A/N: I decided to do this challange I saw somewhere where you take the first sentance from every 10 pages, and try to make a short little story out of it. The book was Without You by Anthony Rapp. I used House/Wilson for the subject. I didn't include all of the stories, just the ones I thought were best. And yeah, some of them are really short.
"'Hey,' I said. 'I just want to say that I think the song is great!'"
And I meant it. I've gone through some of House's more... let's say, interesting creations, but this one was brilliant. It had just the right balance of softness and attitude. I took his hand from the piano and put it on my face. Then I leaned in and kissed him.
"Soft, indistinct organ music droned in the background of the funeral home."
Wilson stepped up to say his piece. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to say it. His eyes were already gleaming with tears and were threatening to spill over. But he took a deep breath and began.
"Well, um, there's so much to say. I don't know how long I can last, so I'll try to give the short version." He paused to take another cleansing breath. "Gregory House was a best friend to me. Even though he was a complete ass, he had a certain charm. He didn't care what people thought of him. He was unique. He had a courage very few people have." A few hot tears slipped down his cheeks, so he paused to wipe them away. He began again, voice breaking, "There's so much I've left unsaid. I always thought I had more time, and when it came that I didn't, I could never get the courage to tell him everything I was longing to say. I guess I'll take this as an opportunity to say it all now, because I'm sure he's listening. He's probably making sure we give him a proper send-off." The other attendees laughed softly. "Greg, I.. I never was able to say this, but, I love you. Sure, it wasn't love at first sight, and hell, I even hated you for the first few months that I knew you. But you grew on me. And now I feel like such a coward for not telling you all this because," he choked on his tears, but cleared his throat and resumed. "Because now you're gone and never coming back. So all I can do now is say that I love you, with all of my heart, and too me, you're spirit can never die." Wilson brought a hand to his soft, tear stained lips, then pressed it to the coffin. He went back to his seat, shoulders shaking with grief.
"Accompanying herself on the cello, she deadpanned a pitch-perfect send up of pretentious performance artists, complete with sudden fits of screaming that transformed instantly into robotic calm, non sequiturs galore, and the surprise bonus of several full-throated, manic mooooooooooos to finish it all off."
House and Wilson cracked up as they watched Maureen do her thing. Their hands entwined as they continued to laugh until their sides were sore. Wilson couldn't believe it had happened. He was finally on a date with House. When House had offerred him the tickets, his heart leapt. And House had been serious about making it a date. As an added bonus, the play was great! RENT, hmm, he'd have to remember that.