house_wilson_ghc | Rational Principle Part VIII 1/2 (Reply)

Rational Principle

Part VIII

By G. Waldo (formerly GeeLady)

Rating: NC-17 Adult.

Summary: WARNING! AU. Mentions of SLAVERY. This story will eventually be H/W, also. Senator/Doctor James Wilson owns House - who is an unfortunate member of the Worker Caste. Violence, politic-speak, adult situations, language, and maybe a few other things I'm not sure about yet.

Disclaimer: Not mine...blah, blah, blah - though a fantasy never hurt anyone.

This story is in response to a Plot Bunny prompt by LUMI. I bow humbly before you! Thank you for the excellent idea. I hope the resulting fic' meets with your approval.

KEEP in mind this is the regular New Jersey that changes harshly. Unlike as in Gone With the World, where cannon normal becomes abnormal, in this AU, House and Wilson are born into a non-cannon AU, and then it changes. Hmmm, not sure that makes sense.

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The heat of someone else`s body next to his brought him from sleep into a pleasant realm of woozy contentment. Wilson rolled over to find the long back of Greg House nestled up to his left side. His worker turned lover was still snoozing.

A quick bit of morning sex would be a perfect way to start the weekend, and he ran a few fingers along the sloping side of Greg`s rib cage. Flesh, finally, was firm there again. Muscle restored to its correct form, well-fed and tight. Skin; soft and golden, that twitched seductively under his light touch.

Wilson`s unspoken message woke Greg with a start, and he rolled over to look into the eyes of his master turned seducer.

“Don`t think this makes me your home-boy.” Were Greg`s first words.

Wilson felt his erection die as Greg crawled from the bed, headed to the en-suite and said over his shoulder. “We fucked. Don`t read anything more into it than that.” And slammed the door.

Breakfast still in his mouth, Wilson watched Greg sip a mug of coffee in silence. “I meant what I said last night.”

Greg nodded. “Figured.”

Wilson contemplated his un-eaten slice of bacon. Synthetic. Bean-protein spiced, pressed and shaped to appear almost like the real thing. Cheaply mass-produced meat. The flavour - not quite right. The color - artificial. The smell... neutral. No real odour at all.

He was a senator. He could have real bacon if he wanted it. He had the money and the influence. But it felt wrong to be eating luxury items all the time when most of the world had to make do with mock-spam and canned potatoes.

“You feel nothing for me at all?”

“What am I supposed to feel? Gratitude?” When his host said nothing in response, he asked a question of his own. “You fucked a worker. That`s not legal.”

Wilson shrugged, now thoroughly depressed. He could think of no response that wasn`t laced with swirling emotions even he wasn`t sure he could yet sort out. Clearly, Greg did not love him. If Greg felt anything at all for him, Wilson was too worried to ask, less he be even more disappointed by the answer.

Finally he settled for another shrug. “It felt right.” He knew it was a lame answer, but it was honest at least. He looked across the kitchen island at his lover-guest. “Just for the record – I don`t think of you as my home-boy.”

Greg swallowed the dregs of his cup and held it over the island to his host. “Prove it.”

Puzzled, Wilson stared at the empty mug. “How?”

“Give me a real job, like we discussed. With pay.”

He was willing. It was dangerous, but Greg had already proven to be a smart as a whip diagnostician. Rosemary Castillo, the patient Greg treated over the phone was doing much better. Feeling wonderful, as had been her words to him on the phone a few days previously. “That patient is doing well.” Wilson knew he was about to cave to his demands. He loved this man. He knew he was deeply in love in fact with this frustrating, obnoxious, brilliant, sexy, captivating man. He knew he was in deep, deep do-do.

“What patient?”

How could he not remember? Perhaps Greg might not do so well with doctor/patient relations. He had interacted with exactly one sick person, and then promptly forgotten all about her.

“The woman you prescribed Viagra for? She`s doing well.”

“Oh.” He nodded. A completely apathetic response. To Greg, it seemed, patient treated, cured, sent home...whatever.

No, not a doctor you send when congeniality and a kind hand is a must. And, for most of his patients, they were.

“Pay, huh?” Wilson considered the logistical difficulties of that one. “You realise you can`t go out and spend any of it anywhere?”

“I know.” Greg nodded. “It`s the principle. I`m worth it.”

Wilson wasn`t about to argue that one. “It`ll be risky. If we get caught...”

“You`ll deny all knowledge.”

Easier said than done. The authorities for one, were not idiots. Rational Principle was appearing to him, as more and more of a tyrant`s social experiment, but it had its benefits. RP did hold certain rationality for the saving of mankind. Sacrifice the rights and freedoms of many to assure the survival of future generations and their rights and freedoms.

Plus there was his conscience. He did not think he could deny his role in this just to save his own skin, if it came to that. Greg House had entered his life and altered it forever by thoroughly smashing to bits his previous convictions that the Union was doing the only thing it could do to save humanity. Bastard!

“Okay. You`re hired, but only as a consultant. No patient interaction at all. You consult from here, at home, and only to me and only by my private cell phone. If I find you`ve spoken to Reggie or anyone at the office – or anyone anywhere for that matter – we`ll both be up the creek without a tongue depressor. In fact,” the more he thought about it, the more he realized he needed to very carefully arrange this insane idea, “I consult with you.” It was the only way to keep them both safe. “You don`t call me at all unless I call you first.”

Wilson held out his hand, waiting for Greg to shake on their agreement. “Deal?”

Greg looked at his benefactor`s hand. “One more thing before we shake on this.”

What else? Greg was being given more than was reasonable. They were both risking their freedoms. “What else could you possible want?”

Greg`s mug was still in his hand. “Another coffee. And this time, more sugar cheap-skate.”