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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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Afterwards

Summary:

Fandom: House
Pairing: Greg/James [House/Wilson]
Rating: Open to the Public [No swearing or anything]
Spoilers: Minor for "Sports Medicine".
Summary: House and Wilson talk after their separate nights at the end of "Sports Medicine"
Disclaimer: Characters and other pieces of set-up that you recognize from the show belong to FOX. I did the rest. And I'm not getting paid.
Author's Notes: I have two ideas of what might have happened between House and Wilson when they say each other at the end of the night following "Sports Medicine". This is option one.

Work Text:

Afterwards
by Perpetual Motion

 

James goes to Greg's house after the dinner and flops onto the couch as soon as he ascertains that he's beat Greg home. He isn't quite sure if he's welcome. Hell, he isn't quite sure if he won't get flung out the window, but he's hoping that the combination of monster trucks and adrenaline will be enough to make Greg willing to listen to his reasons for lying and missing out on the big night. He ends up dozing on the couch until he hears a key in the lock. He's a little surprised when he hears two voices, and he sits up as the door opens.

"...here somewhere." Greg limps in the door, trucker hat at an angle on his head, and his keys dangling from his fingers. "I found it-oh, James, good to see you." His tone has gone from friendly to frosty in half a word.

James tries to come up with something to say. He spots Cameron behind Greg and wonders how he's going to explain himself with her in the background. He decides to stall. "How was the rally?"

"Cameron had her cherry popped." Greg steps the rest of the way into the living room and closes the door behind Cameron. "She gets off on big trucks."

Cameron shrugs, and her smile is casual. "I, apparently, have a fetish."

"We all get that way, sometimes." James stands up from the couch and tries to catch Greg's eye. Greg isn't cooperating. He decides to keep talking with Cameron. "You had a good time, then?"

"Yeah. It was..." she trails off, obviously looking for an adjective. "It was intense, somehow. Big trucks, small cars, smashing. It was cool." She beams at James. "You missed out."

"Oh, he knows." Greg gives James a pointed look and limps over to the bookcase. "But he had a much more pressing engagement." James opens his mouth to protest, but Greg steamrolls him. "He had *dinner* plans. And they were much more fascinating than an old monster truck rally." Greg runs his fingers along a row of books and doesn't look at either of them. "How is Stacey? Does she remember me?"

James realizes that they're going to have this conversation in front of Cameron. He wonders just how badly it will scar her. "Of course she remembers you. You're too much of a pain in the ass to forget."

"She wouldn't know." Greg pulls a book from the shelf. "She ran away before I learned to walk again and got *really* moody."

"It's not much of a change, trust me." James feels the urge to roll his eyes and curbs it. He doesn't miss the way Cameron is watching the interaction between them, and he bites the end of his tongue to keep from offering an explanation. She doesn't need to know. "She says 'hi', by the way."

"Oh, good. The healing process has begun. We can be buddies, now." Greg walks over to Cameron and hands her a book. "Found it. The history of monster trucks. Complete with pictures."

Cameron takes the book and flips through it. "Great." She glances between them and takes a step backwards. "I should go. I'll see you both, later." She's gone before they can stop her.

Greg throws the deadbolt and turns halfway to look at James. "I think she felt some tension."

"I can't imagine why." James let's his voice go angry. He was careful to keep it mostly neutral while Cameron was still in the room. "Do you get off making a scene in front of people?"

"Always." Greg's smile is all teeth. "Do you get off lying to me?"

James straightens his shoulders and decides to cut through the bullshit. "She needed a medical opinion."

"And she couldn't call me? I may be a cripple, but I'm still pretty sharp."

James sighs. "She needed an oncologist's opinion." He watches Greg deflate ever so slightly. Anyone else would have missed the minute changes in his stance, and they wouldn't have seen the way he flexed his hand around his cane. But James knows what to look for. He waits for Greg to ask.

"What's she got?" His voice is brisk, like he's demanding lab results from Foreman.

"Ovarian cancer." James sits back on the couch and watches Greg limp over to him. He's leaning on his cane more than he needs to be. "She wanted to know if a total hysterectomy was necessary. I looked over her charts and recommended it." Greg sits down heavily, and James risks sliding an arm around his shoulders. "She should be fine."

"You don't know for sure."

"Of course not." James considers asking Greg if he wants to call Stacey's hotel. He has her room number scribbled on the back of the receipt from dinner. "She might not hang up on you if you call."

"No." Greg stares at the floor. "If she wanted to hear from me, she could have had dinner with me."

"Greg, she's scared."

"So was I."

James can't come up with a response. Greg hasn't ever admitted to being scared during the whole ordeal with his leg. He tries not to talk about the issue if he can help it. It happened. It's over. He doesn't like to dwell. He's just told James that he was scared. And James went to dinner with the woman who was supposed to see Greg through the whole thing. Even knowing that he's helped Stacey make an important decision about her health, James still feels like a heel. He stands up and offers a hand to Greg. "Come on." He's pleased when Greg takes his hand. "Can we go to bed, or would you like to guilt trip me into a midnight run to the store for ice cream?"

Greg looks to be considering the options. "I stole Cameron's cotton candy." It's as close as he can come to letting James off the hook for the moment. James takes the truce while he can get it.

"We'll talk in the morning."

"Over coffee and bagels like the yuppies we are. Or, you, more precisely."

"You're a yuppie."

"I'm much too stubbled to be a yuppie."

James smiles tiredly and leads Greg into the bedroom.

 

end