Title Falling Pieces
Rating PG-13
Pairing House/Wilson; some Wilson/Cuddy and Cameron/Chase
Word Count 1,589
Spoilers This is written as a pseudo-alternate version of season three (only because I'm too impatient to wait for the season to end and start from there), and some events occur in the story, although a little jumbled up, so yes and no to there being spoilers.
Summary Whitner is beating House at his mind games. He gets an inappropriately young stalker and Wilson is...jealous?
A/N Forgive me, but I must plug Noe Venable for a moment, since I nabbed the lyrics from her. "Don't Stop Crying" is on her album Boots.



Somehow, House finds himself hiding out in a corner again, watching Wilson. Except instead of a lesbian nurse, he is talking to Cuddy today, and the two of them are looking mopey. Last month, Cuddy had asked Wilson to be a sperm donor, and House is fairly sure that the two of them have been spending more time than usual together.

Whitner enters the lobby and immediately notices House doing his Wilson-watching; she wonders if he realizes his mouth is turned downward into a deep frown and that he is pulling at his lower lip nervously. Considering what a private person he is, Whitner assumes that would be a no.

“Dr. House,” she says, “see something interesting?”

“Cuddy's breasts look bigger, don't they?” He lifts his hands up to demonstrate. “Fuller.”

“They look the same to me.”

House gives Whitner a long stare before he says, “Your eyes wander more than Wilson's.”

“It's not a crime to look. You're looking.”

“I was going to jump off a bridge after work. Want to join me?”

“Sorry, can't jump.” A mischievous smile spreads across Whitner's features. “And I know you weren't looking at Dr. Cuddy.” And then she's gone.



House's useless fellows failed miserably at finding a case that would interest him, so House wanders into the clinic, stakes out an exam room, and sets up his portable television. Unfortunately, however, Brenda is too good at her job; she finds him and puts him to work.

This results in a partially uncomfortable and partially ego-stroking (and again, uncomfortable) experience as the patient's severely underage daughter flirts with him. Just as she is kneeling on the floor to pick up some papers House dropped, Chase opens the door to the exam room, eyeing the scene suspiciously. “Goodbye, Dr. House,” she says with too much enthusiasm.

Chase hands House a file and when they are further away and simply says, “Nice.”



“I hear you have a stalker,” Wilson says, showing up in the cafeteria line behind House.

“Chicks loved the cane, but apparently walking is even sexier.” House piles up way too much food on his tray, and Wilson wonders how much money his friend would rob him of today. “You should start following my lead – I'm snagging babes from seventeen to sixty-two!”

“Funny, considering you terrorized yet another woman I was only talking to.”

“No need to protest so much, lady, we're not married.”

“Separate or together?”

Wilson really wishes they wouldn't ask that.



“House would do Wilson before you would do Chase!” Foreman declares with all the pompous confidence he had when he was hired. Before Chase can point out that Cameron did him once, House walks in.

“Oh, how awkward,” House says with a phony shiver. “Unfortunately, they are, indeed, going at it like horny teenagers. Although the 'horny' part is redundant. How's the patient?” For once, Cameron is the only one able to focus on her job and she answers House. Foreman stares at Chase and Cameron, shaking his head, while Chase remains in a perpetual state of shock.

“Mhmm, very interesting. Do a DNA test.”

“Huh?” Cameron says, but House has already left the room.

He doesn't get too far before running into into his stalker, Ali. “Don't you have a restraining order?”

“Oh, Dr. House,” she purrs, “nothing can keep me away from you.” Even for House, her behavior had crossed over from amusingly bizarre to downright disturbing a few days ago. But of course, she finds a way to outdo herself and practically tackles House.

Before House is able to defend himself, Ali is being pulled off of him; it's Wilson. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” House isn't sure if he's screeching at the girl or him. Maybe both. He is, however, very amused that Wilson is holding onto Ali as if she were a dangerous criminal. Wilson calls over a nurse that is passing by, and he escorts Ali away from them and out of the building, in accordance with the restraining order Cuddy had placed on her.

“Thanks for saving me, seeing as I'm so defenseless. You're such a knight in shining armor, Jimmy.”

“House, please tell me you're not that stupid.”

“I didn't sleep with a patient.” Wilson flinches at the mention of Grace. “See? I'm not that stupid. Just because I act like I'm eight doesn't mean I am.” House continues on his way to his original destination, the bathroom.

And it's while peeing that House puts together the pieces and figures out what's wrong with Ali. “Damnit,” he swears in slight disappointment.



“Awesome, they're related,” House says the next day when his underlings return with the DNA test. “Can I tell them?”

“I'll do it,” Foreman decides. Then he starts rambling about how they should give the couple a chance to recover before breaking the news; House stopped listening the moment Foreman volunteered to do the job, and when his mouth ceases running, House orders him to tell them now or he'll do it himself. This earns him a scowl from Foreman, but he does as he's told.

“Well, I'm going home,” House announces to the remaining two fellows. “Don't worry, Chase, there's no way you two are related – Cameron's hair isn't fabulous like yours.” Chase is caught between annoyance and trying to suppress a smile, but House has already turned his back. Cameron looks pissy, but Chase refuses to take the bait.

House gets on the elevator out of habit, and Whitner just so happens to be there as well. “I already have a stalker, but the more the merrier.” The doors close and Whitner doesn't say anything. “God, you smile a lot. Whatever you're on, I'd like some of it.”

“You and Dr. Wilson act like a couple.”

“A couple of guys.”

“A married couple.”

“I have a question. Are you the butch or the femme? I'm guessing butch. Me and Wilson, we're both femmes, totally incompatible.”

“Goodbye, Dr. House,” Whitner says when they get her floor. “Say hello to Dr. Wilson for me.”



Wilson is already at the apartment, making dinner when House gets home. Neither of them bother saying anything in greeting, because “honey, I'm home” got old after a few days. After several minutes, House goes into the kitchen and says, “When do you think you'll be leaving?”

“Odd. You were practically begging me to stay before.”

“That wasn't begging.”

“And yet you know what I'm talking about.”

“You were only supposed to stay once you nursed me back to health – yet again, thank you Dr. James Wilson. Now I'm healthy. You're free to go now and find someone else to need you.”

“Maybe,” Wilson says, bringing the knife down a little too harshly, “maybe your theory is faulty. You're not always right.”

“Right, you're staying around because you enjoy my company.” House suddenly gets a craving for vicodin, but pushes the thought away – he doesn't need it anymore, damnit.

“Surprisingly, that's possible,” Wilson mumbles, but House has already moved back into the living room.

They don't bother speaking for a while, but Wilson doesn't leave and House doesn't tell him to. He finishes preparing dinner and they eat it, with only bad television to keep the room from being silent. When House is done, he leaves his plate on the table and then sits down at the piano to play. Wilson listens for a while, drinking a beer.

“That case I just finished today, the couple,” House starts suddenly, but continues playing. “It turns out they're brother and sister.”

“That's awkward,” Wilson replies after a while, “but that doesn't mean they can't be together.”

“You people are all romantics.” The comment starts out bitterly, but ends very gently.

Wilson puts his mostly finished beer on the table and gets up to sit next to House on the bench. House doesn't bother to look up, or even move. “And you're not?”

“I sense sarcasm,” House says loudly and abruptly stops playing; he looks Wilson right in the eyes, and Wilson returns the gaze.

“I want to stay,” Wilson says very quietly. He wants to make sweeping declarations of everlasting love, which worked on his wives, but he doubts House would appreciate it – besides, none of the marriages worked out, showing how well that plan of action works. He goes with just saying how he feels, in simple terms. “And I don't want to leave,” Wilson says with a small smile, “no matter how little you need me.”

House takes a moment to take in all the things Wilson tells him without words; soon, House smiles lop-lopsidedly, turns back to the piano, and starts playing again. “I hope you don't plan on bumming off of me.”

“Yes, I only cook, clean, and pay for all your meals,” Wilson replies, his smile widening. He listens to House play for a little longer, then rises, giving House a pat on the shoulder, and goes to do the dishes.

Once Wilson is in the next room, House allows himself a full smile and stops playing to listen to the sounds coming from the kitchen.



“April morning
In '85
You came to visit
I came alive
The things you'd speak of
The tales you'd tell
No one would guess you'd been through hell

But I was dirty
I was unplanned
And I was born to feel and understand
Your falling pieces in my tiny hands

Whichever way we'd go
Whichever way we'd go”

Don't Stop Crying
~ Noe Venable