Title: Fairy Tales Can Come True
Author: SrslyNo
Summary: Wilson gets an earful of advice from his conscience.
Characters: Wilson/House
Rating: PG-13 (because the cricket made me)
Warning: Wrote this "under the influence" of sleep deprivation. A crackfic or a "fractured fairy tale." IDK. Slash. AU.
Spoilers: "The Itch" and "97 seconds"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. Any resemblance to an entertainment empire whose icon is a rodent is not by accident, but from admiration.
A/N: I was inspired to write this story after watching "The Itch" and seeing photos posted by soophelia of RSL and his ginormous eyebrows.
After a string of long workdays that continued into the next, Wilson was still at his desk writing up drug trial requests for the third night in a row. He could hardly think straight.
Taking his mind off his work for a moment, he massaged the back of his neck as he thought back to his conversation the other day with Cuddy, 'I must be slipping.'
Leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, he immediately felt his right eyebrow twitch and rubbed it to soothe the fatigued muscle.
Imagine Wilson's surprise when he felt something pop out of the hairy cocoon, tumble down the ski slope of his nose, and land on his desk with a plop.
It was a cricket dressed in a top hat and tails holding an umbrella. A tiny but plucky voice called out, "Why hey there, young feller!"
Wilson looked at his watch. It was now official. His medical records would indicate that he stroked and lost mental capacity a little before midnight.
The green bug was undressing before him, or at least removing his coat and hat, "Don't you say hello when somebody greets you? Where are your manners, or has one of Rigoletto's great-great-great," he paused to take a breath, "great-great grandkittens got your tongue?"
Considering a reply, Wilson tried to remember if speaking to a hallucination meant he was even crazier than he suspected. He internally shrugged. What the hell? He could use some company. "Uhm…Hey?"
"You don't remember who I am do you?!" Demanded the insect. "You're so busy doing my job for others, you're not listening when I talk to you."
"Huh?" Wilson quipped.
Gloved hands on hips, "Why I'm Jim E. Kricket, your conscience, of course."
Deciding against the notion that his conscience would resemble a famous cartoon character with an off-brand name, Wilson was determined to engage the critter in a brutal debate. He opened his mouth and eloquently replied, "Oh."
"You know what your problem is?"
Hands jumped up in surrender, "I believe the standard reply is, 'No, but you're gonna tell me anyway.' So, go right ahead. Be my guest."
A zippy melody assailed Wilson's ears, "Be our guest! Be our guest! Put our service to the test…"
The cricket stomped its tiny foot twice, "Hey! Lose the sound effects guys. This is a different story."
A dreamy cotton candy chorus crooned, "When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…"
Mr. Kricket nodded with a self-satisfied grin, "Much better. I take my music with lots of cream and sugar. Decaffeinated. Now where was I?"
"You were just about to leave."
"Now see here, don't try those Mickey Mouse tactics on me. I've heard them all before. Many invented by yours truly." A gloved finger wagged in Wilson's face. It loomed large, and there were only four per hand. Wilson couldn't help diagnosing the condition, 'Hmmm, ectrodactylism.'
The fingers drummed on the tiny chin, "Now what was I going to say…Oh yes! I was about to tell you what your problem is. You used to be a much better liar. It's a good thing you're not made of wood."
Wilson hoisted one furry brow, answering archly, "Shows how much you know. There is a part of my anatomy that becomes wood and grows—"
The finger was back, "Hey, hey! Watch that. We only have a PG-13 rating here."
It was obvious to Wilson he wasn't going to be successful at deflecting this buttinsky bug. He clasped his hands in his lap and prepared for the worst, "Don't mince words. Take your best shot at assassinating my character."
The cricket dragged a staple puller closer to the edge of the desktop, leaned on the handle with arms folded against his chest, and rocked against the spring. "You told Cuddy you had feelings for her, implying you wanted to go out on a date."
"Did some proposition pass in New Jersey making it a crime?"
"She thought you were doing your Tinker Bell impersonation and helping her make House jealous."
Wilson couldn't look at the critter. As a matter of fact, he wanted to squash it, but he answered calmly, "Well, wasn't I?"
"NO!" The bug leapt up on his shirt, and with one hand firmly hanging onto the tie and the other repeatedly jabbing Wilson's nose, he chirped, "You wanted to use Cuddy so House would get jealous and want you instead!"
"Uh…"
"Don't lie!!!!"
The fragile but fierce cricket vibrated as Wilson softly rumbled, "You got me."
"Well? What are you going to do about it?" Two black eyes stared into the lazy brown one.
"Resign again?"
"Running away is almost as bad as lying."
The oncologist's shoulders slumped, "I-I just don't have the courage to tell him about the way I feel."
Mr. Kricket jumped down, shrugged on his coat and collected his things while all the time shaking his head, "That's just so sad. But, at least you're being honest with me, and with it comes rewards." One more ferocious bound and Jim E. was whispering confidentially into a cavernous ear, "I'll do some checking with the Grimm boys and see if I can't persuade a fairy godmother or two to help you out of your dilemma."
And with that, Wilson heard a 'poof!'
Jim E. Kricket was gone...leaving a minuscule black turd on the laundered shirt to remember him by.
Wilson didn't realize he fell asleep until he opened his eyes as something soft brushed his lips.
"House! What are you doing?!"
"Just checking to see if you'd change into a frog if I kissed you."
Wilson was about to put on his best show of outrage when he felt his eyebrow twitch again and heard a whisper-soft but spunky voice prod, "Careful. Don't blow this. I had to call in favors from all over the Magic Kingdom.
"Don't you recall Robin Williams saying, 'Seize the Day!?'" The voice hurriedly added in deep a broadcaster's voice, "FromDeadPoet'sSociety,TouchstonePictures,divisionofWaltDisneyCompany."
"Well, have I?" Wilson croaked. It was stressful answering two voices at once.
House gave his head an appraising tilt, "Mmm, no. I still see a tired doctor one step away from a lawsuit if he doesn't get some shuteye. Why don't you finish what you're doing, and I'll drive us back to my place. You shouldn't be driving, and I've got my car."
Wilson was considering the offer, but his mind went on full alert at House's next suggestion.
"We can take turns playing Snow White and the seven dwarfs."
Eyes narrowed in suspicion, "And, just who am I in the first round of this role playing game, Dopey?"
"No, my Princess." House's hand swept the air with a flourish. "You are Snow White and I'll be Doc. After you get enough sleep, we'll dump her royal highness in favor of your royal heinie." House looked up at the ceiling for a moment as if he was listening to an angel getting his wings, "I was born to be Grumpy."
Wilson shook his head, "Can't argue with that, but seriously House. What brought this on? I never dreamed, er, uh…never thought--?"
"Remember when I put the knife in the electrical outlet?"
"Can I ever forget?" Wilson blanched.
"Well, you might say I had a moment of clarity when I woke up with you hovering over me. I dropped a hint the size of a monster truck, but it went completely over your blow-dried head."
Another bon mot dropped from Wilson's lips, "Wha--?
"Idiot. I said, 'I love you.'" Smiling mysteriously, House finished, "Let's just say, 'It's a Wonderful Life,' Wilson. Ready to head back to my secreted woodsman cottage?"
"Sure. Give me a moment to clean my desk." Wilson was beginning to believe in miracles, and that fairy tales can indeed come true. As he locked his office door, he made a mental note to reassign more of his 401k to Disney stock.
As they both headed to the entrance, House turned to Wilson, "So, have you decided which dwarf you're gonna play when we get back to my apartment?"
Wilson beamed, "No doubt about it. I have dibs on Happy."
"And, if you're happy than I'm..." House didn't finish the sentence, but returned the smile.
And, nothing more needed to be said.
___________________________
"Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true."
___________________________
Thank you for reading. Comments always welcome.
Song credits:
"When You Wish Upon a Star," Music by Leigh Harline / Lyrics by Ned Washington
"Be Our Guest," Music by Alan Menken / Lyrics by Howard Ashman
"Young at Heart," ("Fairy Tales Can Come True...") Music by Johnny Richards / Lyrics by Carolyn Leigh.
