Current location:	Princeton, New Jersey
Current mood:	drunk
Entry tags:	[comm] muses_w_remotes, [ship] chase/rogue, [with] justalilcontact, [with] justwilson

muses_w_remotes: 1.6 Dead Poets Society
1.6. “Carpe Diem.” | The Dead Poets Society



Wilson tried to jump up out of the pub booth, but was a little too on the tipsy side to do it elegantly. His belt buckle caught on the edge of the table and forced him back into the seat, much to his frustration. “Chase!” he called as he watched the Aussie stumbled his way from their shared table. Chase was far more intoxicated than he was, and if what Head of Surgery just declared was correct, he was going to be intoxicated and a few grand out of pocket.

Chase wasn’t having a bar of it. He’d downed the last of his double scotch and soda and was more than determined than ever to reach his destination. Tonight was the night. He’d put it off too long and it had to be done NOW. He was grinning as he stepped out of the noisy crowded pub and sucked in heavy breaths of fresh air. He swayed a little and giggled in response as he made a grab for stair railing so he didn’t go tumbling down them. Trying to explain a broken arm to Rogue a few days before they left on their holiday was not something he wanted to face. His eyes were a little unfocused as he scanned the street and spotted exactly what he was looking for. He was across the road and in the door of the shop before Wilson even made it out of the pub.

Wilson, too, sucked in some fresh air and was glad to say he was mostly still thinking clearly. Chase had gone straight to the doubles while Wilson more sensibly stuck to lager with a glass of water in between each. Chase would have a killer of a hangover in the morning and Wilson was glad to say he wouldn’t. A car stopped for him and let him across the street and Wilson waved his grateful thanks to the driver and followed Chase’s path. He entered the little boutique shop with a tinkle of a bell hanging on the door and found Chase on his knees before one of the cabinets, nose pressed to the glass and poking sharply at it with his index finger. “That one!” the Aussie declared triumphantly. “I like that one. D’you like that one? I like that one.”

“Chase,” Wilson said, stepping forward to peer at what Chase was pointing at. His brow creased in obvious disapproval… and perhaps even slight distaste. “Chase, maybe you should think about this another day? It’s an important decision to make…”

Chase shook his head vigorously. “Nope. Now. It’s gotta be NOW! Don’t you get it? NO-OW.” He went right back to his insistent pointing, looking up at the sales woman with a grin. “I like that one,” he repeated and pressed his nose back against the glass. “Do you like it? I like it.”

Wilson put his hand up and rubbed his neck. “It’s supposed to really be about a certain some else liking it, Chase. Do you think- holy shit! Does that say twelve thousand dollars?” He looked up at the sales rep in horror. Surely something that looked like that couldn’t possibly cost that amount of money?!

The women raised her eyebrow at Wilson and looked down her nose at him. “That is a very popular design, sir. I happen to believe your friend has wonderful taste.”

Wilson couldn’t stop himself before he snorted. Yeah, you would with him pissed and about to freely hand over his credit card, he thought to himself. She could’ve told Chase she was a koala breeder and had one in her handbag and the natural born Aussie would’ve believed her in the state he was in. But still, his conscience wasn’t going to let Chase do this without at least a bit more protest. “Chase, you should wait until the morning. I’m sure the kind lady will hold it for you…” he trailed off as Chase was already digging around in his jacket pocket for his wallet, which seemed a trial in itself.

“Shush,” Chase offered and yanked his wallet from the depths of his leather jacket. “I like it.”

“You should really love it,” Wilson threw back. “Trust me, I’ve done this three times. You get it wrong and you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Chase whipped his credit card out and lost his grip on it, sending it flying into the woman’s chest. As Chase turned to Wilson with a matter-of-fact look on his face, the woman snapped up the card and was already running it through the till before Chase even opened his mouth. “You’ve never done it with Rogue,” he said, as if it explained everything. All that was missing was a ‘So there’ and a poking out of his tongue.

Wilson looked down into the cabinet again and winced. He took a step back with his hands up. “Okay, okay,” he relented and then scratched his head with a stifled sigh.

Chase just grinned smugly, tripping over his own toe as he turned back to the woman behind the counter. “I like it,” he added one last time, just to prove his point.


- Wilson (justwilson) is my own now so very much referenced with permission. I don't own Rogue (justalilcontact), but she pretty much own Chase's arse, so also referenced with permission

Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | 860