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housebigbangmod ([personal profile] housebigbangmod) wrote in [community profile] house_bigbang2009-03-25 10:03 pm

[round two] Artist: mem_vermelha

Title: Untitled
Subject: Cover art
Pairing/Rating: Gen, G.
Medium: Photoshop
Artist: [livejournal.com profile] mem_vermelha










Title: The Other Conversation
Author: [livejournal.com profile] imissimissyou
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: PG
Length: 21 000 words.
Spoilers: Through Human Error.
Summary: He understands her mute conversations with everyone. She is on the edge of a cliff.
Excerpt:

Sound was everywhere. Plates crashing into each other, people talking over tables filled with food, the line reaching well outside the door filled with talking people, the hollow and mechanical beeping of the cashier. Everything had been so quiet before this, she had forgotten how loud sound could be, how close it could get to you, how it almost became you.

"What did the doctors say?" Dana asked him as a worried frown creased her eyebrows as she glanced over at her, curled up in the wheelchair, looking more and more scared as she constantly searched the cafeteria they were sitting in. He sighed patiently, having explained this several times already.

"They will call us when the results come back, and then we're going to go up to Ally's room and meet the doctors there," he smiled a sweet smile at his wife, carefully stroking her hair out of her forehead and then kissing her quickly on the lips before returning to his food.

"Did you call Mrs. Andersen about picking Less, you know she forgets."

It could not have been that long ago she too sat in this cafeteria, with her own lab coat on, or scrubs, proudly calling herself a doctor. She couldn't understand why they had brought her here, out of all places, could they not understand the humiliation of meeting them now? If they noticed her they would strike up a conversation with her, and then Dana and him would have to explain everything, and it would get awkward.

Outside, the last leaves had left the trees, leaving them naked as they tried to reach the grey sky with their naked branches. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes to look at the trees more closely, but they were just as scary as before. There was no beauty in the dead.



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Title: Untitled
Subject: Alternatives.
Pairing/Rating: House/Cameron, Chase/Cameron, G.
Medium: Cover art
Artist: [livejournal.com profile] mem_vermelha









Title: your rosary beads under the bed
Author: [livejournal.com profile] fated_addiction
Pairing: House/Cameron, Chase/Cameron
Rating: PG
Length: 22 935 words
Spoilers: General spoilers for season five.
Summary: The truth is she's had the letter since June. We carry our memories in too many ways.
Excerpt:

House is starting to walk past her.

Her mouth tightens, twists, but he barely glances back at her. There's no sense of acknowledgment and her shoulders relax, lowering as she passes him.

"Hey."

Or not, she thinks.

She stops, turning slightly. She waits for that obnoxious, almost imposing drawl of her name. But he's just standing there, studying her, as if he were waiting for her to push back. She blinks, confused, and shrugs, all the same, as if to say that she doesn't know anything at all.

"Hello," she murmurs.

His mouth curls slightly, his amusement more than obvious. He steps forward again, but she ignores him, still aware of him following her to the soda machine.

"So I met a guy at the bar."

He's teasing her. It's like a joke. She's not exactly sure how she's supposed to respond. Last night, it was the same thing - she's almost beginning to think of these moments as funny, crazy or not, and the way they still seem to walk into each other like this. She doesn't mean to, but it still seems to churn in its own direction. The case, months ago, was nothing more than incidental, and the little minutes that spun out where merely to subdue boredom, all on his end.

She doesn't want to talk what's happened recently, preferring to reengage herself with what she knows and what has stayed faithful to her. Familiarity is comfort at its best.

"What?"

But she can't help but be concerned, the sharpness in his voice making her stop and tense, underwriting any sense of quiet that she had been hoping to get before she heads home. He leans against the wall, watching her, and all she can think about is the locker room and how it's only a few turns in the other direction.

"A guy," he drawls, "at the bar."



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