Short one shot on "The L Word" spoilers
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"Hey--you. 'Nother round." House uttered drunkenly at the bartender. To House's surprise, he had not taken away his keys yet. It was either, he was getting better at looking only barely tipsy, or this guy was just completely stupid.
The air of the bar was very dry, filled with smoke and poorly done songs by the other drunk ladies and gents. Despising them all, House sat in solitary at the end of the bar, closest to the door, so if needed, he could make a quick escape.
Finally the bartender came back around, and poured out another glass for House. Today was Tuesday. Which meant, whiskey night.
Monday was bourbon, Tuesday whiskey, Wednesday was gin and tonic, Thursday specially set aside for night with Wilson, Friday was rum, Saturday for scotch and Sunday--anything he could possibly shove down his throat.
Snatching out his phone for the hundredth time, seeing a few missed calls on his phone and a couple voicemails, he just stuck it back in his pocket, and threw back the last of the glass repulsively, clearing his throat and slamming the base onto the counter top.
That's when the doors pushed open, the first in the past hour he had spent there. Not bothering to glance over--nor did he have to--he remained face forward. The figure had carefully taken a seat next to him. Hitting the counter with his fist, he caught the bartender's attention.
"Scotch on the rocks, with a twist." Lucas recited to him. After he walked away, Lucas waited for House to address him.
"What service can I render to you?" House asked him sarcastically.
"Just here for a drink. Maybe--even a talk would be nice."
"Cuddy." he stated.
"Just me. However--she's still worrying. She doesn't stop worrying."
"I'm fine." he ended with a sigh.
"You think I'm gonna believe that in your state?"
"It was a long-shot." the bartender finally came back with his beverage, and he threw back some before talking again.
"Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Right. Let's not play BS right now? I've seen it, don't pretend you're not--feeling anything."
"I'm wasted. You're wasting your time if you want to get a legit answer from me right now. Come again in a few hours."
"You're sober enough to deflect. I'm sure I can get a legit answer before the next drop in coherence." House took a swig from his glass before answering.
"What do you want me to say."
"Anything."
"I'm using."
"Seriously?"
"No. I thought anything was referring to--anything."
"About her."
"Anything about her. Great bod."
"Alright. I got that."
"You expecting me to say I love her?"
"Only if you do," he said calmly.
"do you?"
"Define love. Then I think I could tell you."
"So you love her."
"Okay--let's say I do. Would you back off?"
"I--I wouldn't, unless she told me to."
"You don't want to let go, unless you think she'd be better off?"
"Ye-s."
"Admirable."
"Sure."
"In that case, hold on to her."
"You think she's better off with me?"
"No."
"Then, why let go?"
"There may be several other guys out there that would be good for her. Happiness she has yet to discover. To experience. And, knowing that, I also know I can't give her that," another swig before he continued.
"but since you can--you should."
"I'm finding this hard to believe. Not cause of the wasted thing--but this whole week--"
"Omit, this whole week. I'm done." Gulping down the rest, he got up tossing some money on the counter and began to walk towards the doors.
"Hey, I think she knows." pausing at the doors, he turned to look at him.
"She knows it's there too. Which is why--she's trying as hard as she can to stay away from you."
"And--are you okay with that?"
"No. I don't need to be. It's not like I'm looking to marry her."
"You say that now. You think I was looking to love her?" House paused.
"now where do I stand?" and he walked out, leaving Lucas with all the other drunkards and junkies, wasting their lives away.
Walking in with Wilson the following morning at work, he spotted Cuddy coming out of the elevator. Glancing over and catching her eye, time seemed to slow, and come to a stop in their presence. Just looking at her, in his mind he asked her softly.
Where do I stand? Where do you? Where do we?
And she looked back, as if replying with her glistening slate eyes...
You stand in front of me, I stand beside him. For now, we stand divided.
_____________________________________________________
"Hey--you. 'Nother round." House uttered drunkenly at the bartender. To House's surprise, he had not taken away his keys yet. It was either, he was getting better at looking only barely tipsy, or this guy was just completely stupid.
The air of the bar was very dry, filled with smoke and poorly done songs by the other drunk ladies and gents. Despising them all, House sat in solitary at the end of the bar, closest to the door, so if needed, he could make a quick escape.
Finally the bartender came back around, and poured out another glass for House. Today was Tuesday. Which meant, whiskey night.
Monday was bourbon, Tuesday whiskey, Wednesday was gin and tonic, Thursday specially set aside for night with Wilson, Friday was rum, Saturday for scotch and Sunday--anything he could possibly shove down his throat.
Snatching out his phone for the hundredth time, seeing a few missed calls on his phone and a couple voicemails, he just stuck it back in his pocket, and threw back the last of the glass repulsively, clearing his throat and slamming the base onto the counter top.
That's when the doors pushed open, the first in the past hour he had spent there. Not bothering to glance over--nor did he have to--he remained face forward. The figure had carefully taken a seat next to him. Hitting the counter with his fist, he caught the bartender's attention.
"Scotch on the rocks, with a twist." Lucas recited to him. After he walked away, Lucas waited for House to address him.
"What service can I render to you?" House asked him sarcastically.
"Just here for a drink. Maybe--even a talk would be nice."
"Cuddy." he stated.
"Just me. However--she's still worrying. She doesn't stop worrying."
"I'm fine." he ended with a sigh.
"You think I'm gonna believe that in your state?"
"It was a long-shot." the bartender finally came back with his beverage, and he threw back some before talking again.
"Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Right. Let's not play BS right now? I've seen it, don't pretend you're not--feeling anything."
"I'm wasted. You're wasting your time if you want to get a legit answer from me right now. Come again in a few hours."
"You're sober enough to deflect. I'm sure I can get a legit answer before the next drop in coherence." House took a swig from his glass before answering.
"What do you want me to say."
"Anything."
"I'm using."
"Seriously?"
"No. I thought anything was referring to--anything."
"About her."
"Anything about her. Great bod."
"Alright. I got that."
"You expecting me to say I love her?"
"Only if you do," he said calmly.
"do you?"
"Define love. Then I think I could tell you."
"So you love her."
"Okay--let's say I do. Would you back off?"
"I--I wouldn't, unless she told me to."
"You don't want to let go, unless you think she'd be better off?"
"Ye-s."
"Admirable."
"Sure."
"In that case, hold on to her."
"You think she's better off with me?"
"No."
"Then, why let go?"
"There may be several other guys out there that would be good for her. Happiness she has yet to discover. To experience. And, knowing that, I also know I can't give her that," another swig before he continued.
"but since you can--you should."
"I'm finding this hard to believe. Not cause of the wasted thing--but this whole week--"
"Omit, this whole week. I'm done." Gulping down the rest, he got up tossing some money on the counter and began to walk towards the doors.
"Hey, I think she knows." pausing at the doors, he turned to look at him.
"She knows it's there too. Which is why--she's trying as hard as she can to stay away from you."
"And--are you okay with that?"
"No. I don't need to be. It's not like I'm looking to marry her."
"You say that now. You think I was looking to love her?" House paused.
"now where do I stand?" and he walked out, leaving Lucas with all the other drunkards and junkies, wasting their lives away.
Walking in with Wilson the following morning at work, he spotted Cuddy coming out of the elevator. Glancing over and catching her eye, time seemed to slow, and come to a stop in their presence. Just looking at her, in his mind he asked her softly.
Where do I stand? Where do you? Where do we?
And she looked back, as if replying with her glistening slate eyes...
You stand in front of me, I stand beside him. For now, we stand divided.
When does Love become something we need, rather than something we want? Love was seen as something special a long time ago. Now Love is what we are expected to have with us everyday of our lives. Love is common currency when you are a teenager, but turns to worthless pennies the older you get. Do we not care about the substance of what Love was and not what it has been made into today by commercialisation from American movies and Television commercials and soap operas? Only when we experience Love for real, can we comment and judge others who are in Love. Love means something different to everyone. Not two people’s feeling of Love is the same. Why do we generalize, rationalize and compartmentalize Love? Love is and will continue to be an enigma. Only a handful of people will ever unlock it and witness its true beauty and essence. The essence we all crave.
Love.
Love.