Reasons to do this: it will bring both you AND I joy

[cherry]

Guys! I am informed that it is some sort of day dedicated to spreading joy. I am all for this. (Some of you from waaaaay back in my #subcafe days may remember my inaugural "tell people that they rock," day.)

In this spirit, and knowing that everyone is best pleased by different things, I am offering a virtual cornucopia of things designed to bring joy. By commenting, you can have any combination of the following a la carte options:

1) A drabble. (Doctor Who, Dexter, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Life on Mars, Due South, Ocean's 11, Firefly, Dead Like Me, BSG, assorted comics (X-Men, Gen-X, Runaways, Y: The Last Man, etc.), Dogma, House, Dark is Rising, Narnia, Heroes, Harry Potter, Torchwood, or things you won't know about until you ask.)
2) An icon.
3) A reason I think you rock.

Comments

[cherryice.livejournal.com]

Man, pick a hard one.

There's sunlight slanting in from the windows that border her office, yellow summer-light tinged green by the rustling leaves of the oaks outside. House is across the desk from her, sucker dangling from the corner of his mouth (cherry, she thinks abstractedly, by the red tint on his lips). He is talking expansively, hands in motion, animated from the waist up. She's listening to the wind whistle through a cracked window. She doesn't have to listen to House know he's talking bullshit.

When it's do or die, when whatever patient has caught his attention has moved up the UN list from endangered to critical (extinction pending), his movements become more measured, his face less guarded, so that you can almost catch actual, real emotions. Whatever's going on right now, whatever test he wants to run, it's because he thinks it would be cool. "You just want to do it because you think it will bring you joy," she says.

"True," House admits, leaning forward to snag a mint. "I'm a bitter old man. The excruciating pain the patient is in has nothing to do with it." There's a flicker in his eyes there, something gone before she can properly diagnose it.

She knew him before the infarction (she knows he thinks of it as Before, capitals and all, as BEFORE on a bad day), and she tries not to contextualize his behaviour around one event. She knew him BEFORE, and it wears her down, watching as everything about him is washed away by the pain and the drugs, watching the bitterness and anger eat him from the inside, until soon all that will be left is his brilliance and pride.

'You're not alone,' she wants to tell him; or at least 'you're only alone by choice;' or 'you're alive, and that's a hell of a lot more than a lot of people have.'

"Go run your tests," she says instead.

[tellitslant]

Oooh, hon, that is GORGEOUS. I have so missed reading your writing - it is so lovely. And you totally captured the two of them, and their interaction. And please write more Cuddy, at some point in the future? *looks cute*

Thank you! :D

[cherryice.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. *G*

OMG, I really need to start writing something, anything, agai.