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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 27, 2009 22:25:32 GMT -7
"'Cause our friendship is the only thing that offers a modicum of a social life for you?" House snorted in reply. He stood up, and huffed a laugh, "you'll have to do better than that, James. I know you, remember? You and your dull, needy wives. You practically gave yourself away to them, giving them everything they needed until they decided they didn't need you."
Harsh, but it was truth, it was reality. Wilson needed to be needed. Or did once. Maybe Cutthroat Bitch succeeded where his efforts hadn't managed to break through Wilson's stubborn skull. He paused, maybe he'd be generous... considering that Wilson had somewhat insisted that he be paid for services rendered. It showed that Wilson was willing to represent himself better.
"On second thought, just for showing initiative, I'll give you twenty percent." If Wilson bargained, tried to negotiate a better piece for himself, House would consider it a win. Less money for him, but a success story for his friend.
"Honey? Do I in any way resemble a sweet confectionary?" House grumbled. "And forget about leaving at this hour. You can have the couch."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 28, 2009 7:09:05 GMT -7
Normally, Wilson would be furious at House for bringing his ex-wives into the conversation like that but nothing had been ‘normal’ lately and deep down inside Wilson knew that House was speaking the truth. “You know me so well, Greg,” he said, sarcastically. “Maybe we should get married.”
Amber had changed Wilson, as much as someone could in the short period they had been together. And Wilson knew that every time he stood up for himself, didn’t give in, he was honoring her memory. He blurted out the first thing to come to his head, “Make it forty.” He really didn’t need the money. He just had to see how far he could push House…They were like two peas in a pod.
“What do you want me to call you? Love muffin?” Wilson chuckled. Well, telling Cuddy and Angel that he stayed in House’s apartment for the night could only help House’s plan. “Thanks.”
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 28, 2009 17:01:46 GMT -7
House snorted, "yeah, sure. Only in the state of California."
When Wilson shot back with forty percent, House snorted again, but went with it. "Deal." He picked up his bottled water and Wilson's empty beer bottle. Cane in hand, as always, he retorted, "you can be the love muffin. You do make all those weird ethnic foods. What are you making for breakfast?" House asked as he made his way to the kitchen for another bottled water. He was sure if Wilson made anything, it would be something yucky looking in appearance and yet inexplicably delicious. The apartment was not large; he was reasonably sure he would be able to hear Wilson's reply in the kitchen.
He contemplated his shelves. Running low on some things. He'd have to manipulate one of his ducklings into doing his groceries by convincing him it was medically relevant, somehow. Kutner seemed an easy bet. Oh to be young and stupid again. On second thought...
He rubbed his leg. It was still on this side of bearable pain, so he forewent the vicodin. Sex was the greatest painkiller of all. Euphoric bliss tended to disrupt pain signals.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 28, 2009 18:22:23 GMT -7
How House got 'weird ethnic foods' out of 'love muffin' Wilson had no idea, but he was not surprised that House wanted him to make breakfast. He probably should have just gone home for the night. He couldn't rescind House's offer to let him spend the night, though, and he didn't want to go back to his empty, lonely apartment.
"Does pancakes and waffles sound ethnic enough for you?" Wilson asked, loud enough to be heard. Wilson didn't know what House was thinking. It's not like this one night at his apartment was going to be like old times.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 28, 2009 20:18:49 GMT -7
House hobbled out. "Why yes. What is this pancake and waffles you speak of? Will it be delicious?" It was so late, House was tired. Overwrought and drunk. Well, well on the way out from that, given all the water he had just drunk in the past half hour. "Wilson, you know where the linens are. Shut up and go to sleep."
House gave Wilson a nod of good night and headed to his bedroom. It was just like old times. On that thought, House detoured to the bathroom to hide the hair dryer. Hair dryer securely hidden, he snuggled into his pillows and was asleep before he could think... "sleep."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 28, 2009 21:42:33 GMT -7
Or maybe things were going to be like old times...just for this one night. Spending the night in House's apartment brought back a flood of memories from his last divorce. Although, with the way things were going now, Wilson didn't think he'd have any objection to going back to those simpler days. "That's no way to treat your soon to be lover," he retorted. "Goodnight, House."
Seeing as House wasn't going to be the polite host that he never was, Wilson got up and retrieved a blanket for himself. He laid down on the couch, pulling the blanket tightly around himself. He closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
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