House MD Fanfiction

A Successful Failure

Hilson, fluff, 2,215 words
By: chaostheoryy

Wilson was nervous, more so than he had ever been in his life. No interview and no presentation could ever compare to this day. Today he was going to do something brave, something no one else would ever do.

            He dressed in his finest shirt, blazer, and trousers, putting on his best tie and his newest pair of dress shoes. He took his time fixing his hair, adjusting the lose strands on his forehead at least seven times before giving in and proceeding to freshen himself with the pricy bottle of Tom Ford cologne he had bought for occasions such as this.

            He was ready. He knew he was. He was dressed, he smelled fresh, and he had the reservation information sealed in a scarlet envelope tucked inside his blazer. He wouldn't be any more ready than this and yet he was scared out of his mind. If he screwed this up, he could very well damage the strongest friendship he'd ever had. He couldn't afford that. This had to work. He needed it to.

            He made one final attempt to tame the stray hairs on his forehead before surrendering and heading out to climb in his Volvo and make the drive to the hospital which, to his dismay, was quicker than usual. Hell, it was almost too quick.

            The second he stepped through the front doors, Wilson felt his heart cartwheel in his chest. Each stride was bringing him closer and closer to the daunting task he had so thoroughly prepared himself for. And guaranteed cardiac arrest, Wilson thought as he made his way down the abnormally constricting hallway. As he turned the corner and saw the all-too-familiar glass doors of Gregory House's office, his breath hitched and his body protested any further advancement.

            Oh crap, he ruminated as he stood motionless beside the wall, I can't do this. Not yet. He's probably in there with Foreman talking about that Wesson case. Last thing I need is for Foreman to witness me embarrass the living hell out of myself.

            He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. He had to put this off. He could wait. He could just hide away in his office for a few hours and catch House at a better time. He could drop in during his lunch break and-

            "Have you gotten cold feet or have you realized she's a complete whore?"

            Wilson's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets upon hearing the rugged voice behind him. He spun around, inadvertently slamming his right arm into the wall. "Ah!" He hissed and clutched at his forearm for a moment as he looked at the tall figure of Gregory House now standing before him.

            "No need to answer," House said before Wilson could even form a response, "Your inability to control your motor function tells me it's the former."

            Wilson's expression was full of shock and fear, making it all too easy to elicit a string of jokes and obnoxious comments from the doctor before him. As much as he wanted to turn tail and sprint for his life, the oncologist was trapped.

            "So," House inquired, his eyebrows cocked a little too high for his aging face, "Who is she?"

            Wilson blinked and looked House over quickly. The man seemed genuinely interested in knowing the answer to this question. Strange. That had to be a first. "Who is who?" He countered, the nervousness he was feeling far too obvious in his voice.

            House rolled his eyes before narrowing them at the oncologist. "Who is the poor woman you're planning to ask out? Clearly she's here in the hospital. You certainly don't dress this ridiculous every day just to get all handsy with those dying kids of yours."