what some call insanity

Going out with some friends in a few minutes, but I wanted to post these before I left. I'll get to the next two either tonight or tomorrow. Hope you enjoy :)

Title: Impossibilities
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG
Summary: For kcountess, who requested Jack/Tony post s6. I went with the whole 'Tony's alive' scenario, so hopefully the implausibility won't take away from it, lol.



Jack Bauer was no stranger to the impossible. Hell, he lived the impossible every day. He’d known betrayal of the worst kind, human minds warped to the worst degree, years of torture in an iron cell – he’d seen those thought dead alive before his eyes.

But this face, maybe a foot from his, was the one that convinced him he’d finally lost his mind. He lived the impossible every day, but as the man before him (hallucination before him) gave a half-grin, Jack shook his head and gave up.

“Hey,” Tony greeted him, voice hoarse. “Good to see you.”

And suddenly it didn’t matter whether he was real or not, because this was the face that Jack had seen every single day for the past two years, flashing before his eyes, just out of reach. Without thinking he glanced past Tony, almost expecting to see all of them: Teri, George, Ryan, Claudia, David, Michelle…

Of course, the hall was empty, no one but a couple further down smoking cigarettes outside their room. There was just Tony.

“Jack,” Tony said. “Uh, can I come in? We should talk.”

Jack nodded distractedly, still not sure that this was real, still not caring. He didn’t take his eyes off the younger man (by two and a half years but Tony had never let him forget it.) He suddenly realized that he hadn’t said a word but couldn’t come up with anything, and just gestured toward the dingy couch.

“Listen, I know that this doesn’t make much sense, and I wish that someone had told you earlier but I guess things were kind of out of control,” Tony began, and Jack barely heard anything as he continued on, something about how he was the next target and Chloe and Bill had worked out a plan, the syringe was harmless and when Henderson was dead Tony was safe to ‘come back to life’. Dimly it made sense, to a degree at least, and Jack was sure that when he could think there would be a million questions to ask. For now he just nodded.

Finally he choked out “Tony,” and moved forward – to do what, he didn’t know – hug him? Hit him? But Tony just smiled that same half-grin and shook his head.

“I don’t know who put you up in this shithole, but you can stay with me for awhile, I have a spare room.” Automatically Jack began to protest – two years in China hadn’t touched that instinct – but again, Tony shook his head and stood. “Let’s go.”

Jack followed.


Title: Physical Therapy
Pairing: Gen
Rating: G
Summary: For dolphincheddar, who requested 'House and a pogo stick.' I had a lot of fun with this one! Takes place before season 3, after the Ketamine treatment.



Cuddy wasn't sure why she was surprised. She shouldn’t have been. The past few years had taught her nothing, it seemed. Why on earth should she be shocked that her diagnostician was currently bouncing down the halls, on a pogo stick, no less?

No, she shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe the lurid pink of the contraption should make her blink, but only in defense.

Wilson was standing next to her, and she was infinitely pleased to see that he looked as flabbergasted as she felt. Possibly this was a new level of insanity.

The man wasn’t even working here at the moment – he was on leave – more than that, he was supposed to be recuperating! She really should take this to mean that there was no reason to let him stay at home another two weeks, but she thought she might need them.

“Cuddles!” House bounded forward, still on the damn pogo stick. Patients were staring and Cuddy wanted to be swallowed whole. “I’ve missed you, you know. There’s no one but Wilson to annoy at home.”

“What are you doing?” she hissed, and he was still bouncing. He was right in front of her and still bouncing, up and down, not even moving anywhere. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman were snickering, but it looked like it might be from nerves more than anything else.

“It’s part of my new physical therapy,” House yelled, apparently under the impression that his motion made it harder for him to be heard. “I’m supposed to exercise. And gosh darn it, I decided that I might as well have fun doing it!”

Wilson finally spoke. “House, you went to that therapist once. Two months ago! Why are you taking her advice now, and why are you taking her advice here?” His tone would have been appropriate in trying to talk a suicidal teenager down from a balcony.

House merely beamed at him. “Oh, you,” he said cheerfully. “Actually, I must be off – I have an appointment. My motorcycle is being repainted, I felt it was time for a change. What do you think of this pink?” He bounced higher, as if gesturing at the pogo stick. Cuddy just closed her eyes.

“Go home, House,” she gritted.

“Toodles!” he shouted to the hospital at large, and took off down the hallway again. Cuddy didn’t open her eyes until the bouncing had faded away.

Wilson was looking down the hall. “You know,” he said, bemused, “it takes talent to stay on a pogo stick that long. I don’t even want to know what else he’s been practicing.”

Cuddy groaned.


And also, isn't this mood icon amazing? LOL.