Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Four
Her eyes shifted from the brunette with an amber tint in her hair as she glanced back down to her hot cup of coffee in hand. Despite having slept a lifetime for many people, she still felt the pangs of exhaustion on her overworked body tugging at her joints as well as her lack of ability to focus on one thing at a time as she gradually recovered. She found herself longing for the comfort of James' bed, as odd as it was. Not him, but the wonderfully luxurious bed in which she now sees a necessity.
'Who knows if I'll sleep that well again without that damn bed.'
"_____?"
Her eyes flit up to the previously mentioned Thirteen. She flashed her the familiar lost-in-thought smile in which her face is normally decorated.
"I'm exhausted, I am so fucking sorry." She stated, a soft laugh elicited from the two. Despite having slept as much as she has, she still felt tiredness tug at her eyes.
"I can tell. Wilson said you were wiped but I didn't expect you to still be a walking corpse." She said, and ___ sighed, tightening her messy bun that lay upon her head. Her soft baby hairs sat wildly as they wanted, too short to go up with the rest of her hair.
"Yeah, I'm honestly not doing the best. I think House was actually right in forcing me to take the week off. I can hardly focus on anything."
"There's this really weird thing that happens, when you don't sleep like you're supposed to—"
"Shhh... I'm feeling the consequences of my actions. Trust me. I'm a million times more miserable than I look, and I know I'm roughing it right now." She stated, feeling her joints ache as she reached for her cup of coffee. Every movement felt as though there was sand in between her joints. “I’ve also got a lot on my mind that I am trying to navigate. I just haven’t had an opportunity between such big cases. I know it is literally our job, but we haven’t had an easy case in months. I miss the times I was able to just go screw with Wilson while he wrote up emails.”
"So... how do things seem?" Remy asks, seemingly pushing for a conversation she didn't quite want to bring up. Not directly, at least. ____ cocked her head, setting her cup down once again.
"How does what seem?" ____ asked.
"Things." Remy said, again, indirectly pressing. Still confused, ____ was about to ask for clarification, before her eyes caught those of the softly parted brunette male, making his way towards the two from the coffee counter, two cups in hand.
____ smiled, and moved over in her booth to make room for her friend as his eyes met hers with a warm, shy smile making its way upon the flirts' face.
"You look much better than last night." He commented, setting the cups down in front of them. Remy gave him a quiet 'hey' as he got situated.
"Hey, James. You meeting someone?" ____ asked, moving over a little more so he could get comfortable. He moved over a little more, mere inches between the two.
"Thirteen let me know where you guys were going so I swung by and gave you a house key." He said, and dug into his pocket for a minute, before dishing out his keys. He plucked a freshly made, bright silver one from his key ring, and handed it to you.
Thirteen's eyes widened, and to seemingly keep her mouth shut, she took a sip of her coffee.
"Thank you..? I don't...?" ____ stammered, wondering why this was necessary besides so she can grab her stuff later, but she assumed she'd just go back to her place until later.
"I know your apartment is on the rough side of town, and I have a conference I leave for at the end of the month for a week, and I just wanted to extend... the offer of somewhere... safer to you. Plus I'll probably be working late, so you can grab your stuff at least." He said, 'cooly' as he could. Thirteen shot James a confused look. She arched an eyebrow and leaned forward a little.
"Are you asking her to house-sit or are you inviting her to move in?" James' face went red and he let out a nervous laugh.
"I'm just letting her know she is always welcome over if she needs to! When House and I went by her apartment to grab some stuff the other night it was... shady." He said, trying his hardest not to offend the girl next to him, avoiding eye contact.
“I am happy to house-sit. We can talk about that later, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow at the latest.” ___ said, and James was happy to take any out of this conversation, even if his out is ‘house sitting’.
"Who is the other coffee for? House?" Thirteen asked.
"No, no. That ass can buy his own coffee after the emotional torment I was subject to last night." He said, a sigh leaving his face as he paranoidly glanced around the room, as if to judge whether or not it was clear to say what was on his mind in the moment. Remy cocked an eyebrow, obviously intrigued by the vague statement.
"What 'torment' did you have to endure?” She said, gently tossing her long, chestnut hair behind her shoulders.
“It is a crime and extremely offensive for me to be friends with a female that is not the exact same age as me.” He said, feeling a heat make its way to his face with the mere mention of the conversation. He almost felt like he was ripping the innocence from his mature, younger friend by even thinking about her following the visuals House had nearly injected into his head.
Several hours were spent on and off “teasing” Wilson for his intentions with the young colleague the two shared. House consistently swore she was only around for being an excellent doctor and a total idiot with the passion for her job to leave her relentlessly exhausted at all times, seeing as she needs to be virtually held at gunpoint to sleep.
“You’re keeping her around and only doing this as a fastpass into her panties. I’ve seen her ass, I don’t blame you, but at least be honest and stop making yourself look like you’re sacrificing things so she feels more compelled to lie with you.” He remembers House uttering. Wilson just threw him another hateful glance, and resumed his attention back to his phone.
‘Maybe I seriously like her around. Is that such a forgein concept to you? I have a plethora of female friends that I have never tried sleeping with. You can’t seem to make friends with any woman without making it clear the relationship is one-way.’ Wilson thought to himself, just before standing up to check on you. That was the last comment House got in last night before finally dropping the topic.
At least, until midnight struck another day.
“Says House?” ____ asked, cocking her head.
“Implied House. He also implied a lot of other things that have me ignoring his existence today.” He said, taking another heavy sigh as he took a sip of the warm coffee in hand. He felt the urge to glance at ____ as she was part of the discussion, but ignored it.
‘I don’t want her knowing House thinks of her that way. Besides, I have more than one very close female friend, so it's not like she would gather that from this conversation. Right?’ He thought to himself, before finding his inner monolog more confusing than beneficial.
He would, in moments following, find that this did not work as planned.
He sat up readjusting his position next to the tired woman next to him. She slowly nodded, finally understanding what the conversation likely included. She fought off a soft giggle, watching her brunette friend fight a soft blush that was finding its way up on the flirts’ cheek.
“Why are you so pressed? Sounds like textbook House to me. Angry and horny.” Remy muttered, once more taking a sip of her coffee. James stuttered over himself.
James, in fact, was not entirely upset because of the misogyny that he had to endure by sitting idly by his now hammered best friend. He, too, was drunk, while you slept heavily in the other room. Occasional, soft snores could be heard in the living room.
“So, you’re not gonna even try?” The diagnostician said, setting his now-empty scotch glass back onto the coffee table.
“House. She is not interested, and young.” James muttered for what felt like the millionth time.
“‘Young’ is an awful excuse to not pursue the babe in your bed. You really can tell me more about her than any of your ex-wives but you refuse to even try going on a date with her.” The drunk spat out, some truth to his searing words that James refused to accept.
“Maybe I want a serious, platonic relationship like this with someone other than you, House. Whether or not I like her doesn’t matter, I’m not pursuing anything.”
“Now that you’ve made it very clear you’re not going to sleep with her, when I do, I’ll be sure to take pictures.”
“Yes, that is textbook House. Doesn’t mean I should have to deal with him reducing my friends to nice bodies.” He said, glancing to his left and unintentionally making eye-contact with the hopefully-unaware person that brought upon the subject matter.
Both Remy and ____’s eyebrows arched, shooting the oncologist a curious glance as he continued to clam up.
“Who is House jealous that you have around?!” The pair spat out at once, almost as if they had rehearsed the moment a million times. He was mildly taken aback, wondering why this conversation didn’t run through his head as a potential outcome to the topic posed.
For obvious reasons, he was not sure he was ready to sell out his best friend to the innocent, or so he assumed, younger woman next to him that he was not sure would like to hear of the ways her boss objectified her while she was unconscious in the other room.
James felt the familiar heat he tried to overcome over the last few minutes on several occasions burn as it finally won– the tall, flushed brunette finding himself stumbling over words in his head, unknowingly stuttering a response out to the two.
“Cameron.” He spat, little thought following the exclamation. She was the first, non-___ girl that he has even remotely considered a ‘close’ friend over the two facing him.
He locked eyes with ____, and she looked puzzled. He knows, even while absolutely exhausted, she was not buying the lie the man spoke. He knew she was calculated, and knew this was not something she would drop until she knew who he was really referring to. He could feel the urge to call him out to his face– a characteristic he both loved and hated about her– but watched as she readjusted in her seat.
Strangely enough, she nodded, flashed him a smug grin, and shrugged.
“Sounds about right. He always did want to sleep with her.” ___ said softly, taking another sip of the now less-scalding, bitter coffee. James watched in shock as she seemingly continued about listening, not a word leaving her lips. Her baggy eyes now trained on the opening and closing of the slightly busy coffee shop.
“Cameron? You still keep in touch with her?” Remy asked, setting her now almost empty cup to the table. James pulled his confused face from the apparently disinterested girl next to him.
“Well, yes, but very sparingly.” He said, shifting as he felt Remy nearly see right through him. Her face quickly became that of disbelief, but she knew better than to press the man for more answers than he was ready to give. She cleared her throat, it becoming increasingly obvious that she did not believe a word he was saying.
“Okay. Okay. Not Cameron. But who it is doesn’t really matter. They’re a close friend and that is that, I don’t know why House seems to think I only ever want to sleep with the people I have around me. Maybe they’re just good company.” He explained, and relaxed, not realizing the short lived lie had already begun to take a toll on his physicality. The bigger lie he didn’t need to address was that he’d almost definitely, on more than one occasion, found himself wondering what this ‘unspoken’ person would be like as a romantic partner, but that’s just curiosity, right? Is it a crime to imagine what a friend would be like as a partner?
He glanced back at ____, who was still seemingly anywhere emotionally than the coffee shop.
“It’s House, Wilson. You know better than anyone else his cynical ass only brings young women around for one reason.” She said, letting a sigh leave her lips, as she sat back against the rest of her chair. “You’re telling me he’s never harassed you for anyone else?” She pushed.
“Yes, of course he has, but he is particularly insistent with this person in specific.”
“Maybe it is his weird ‘House’ way of getting you two together. He is very good at reading people.” Remy said. She took the final sip of her coffee, gently setting the empty cup down onto the table. She glanced over at her friend, noticing her blank stare towards the floor. ‘Maybe she should get going.’
‘“I-I mean, maybe. But regardless it isn’t any of his business. And I don’t even know if I could be in a romantic relationship with this person. I’m not sure it has even crossed my mind prior to this conversation.” He said, rubbing his thumb against one another underneath the table. He felt unusually nervous speaking those words right next to the unspoken woman in question. He caught another glimpse of the unusually quiet ____ next to him. She had her eyes trained on the door again. He gently tapped her thigh under the table, and she whipped her head around to look at him. She came to, seemingly previously stuck in another universe before flashing him a soft smile.
“‘M sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. Sorry, I am listening!” She muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, flashing a sleepy, almost distracted smile to the oncologist. He felt his anxiety manifest as butterflies in his stomach. He was unsure if it was because of the smile or the subject matter.
He flashed a warm smile in response, feeling his anxiety climb higher with the innocent action.
“Hey, ____, I’m sorry to drag you out. You don’t look well. Let me take you home.” Remy interrupted, and ____ shook her head.
“No, no, it’s okay! I’ve missed you guys. We haven’t hung out like this in months. I’ll go home and go to bed later. Do either of you have somewhere to be?”
“I’ve got work in about an hour. But, Remy is right. You should go rest.” James said, finding his hand rubbing her shoulder. She flashed him a warm smile, and shook her head. “I can take you home if you need, too, or you can grab your house key from my car.” He said, glancing at Remy to watch as she nodded her head in response.
“I have a lot on my mind right now. This is more helpful than you know.” She said.
“So… Who is the extra coffee for?” Remy asked, and James, without a word, hands it to Remy seeing as ____ has not even nearly finished hers.
