James E. Wilson (doctor_j_wilson) wrote in willingtoliefor,
James E. Wilson

[ Friday, approx. 8 PM; House and Wilson (Closed) ]

The subject of a serious chat with House had come up more than once in the past week or so. Wilson knew it was unavoidable and he'd even been the one to suggest it a time or two, and yet he kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off. The probability of a rational discussion was very low and Wilson's bruises from the last argument had only just faded completely. He didn't feel like explaining new ones to Allison.

Nevertheless, now that he'd gotten Stacy involved (sort of), if he kept putting things off, she'd end up bursting into House's office herself to -- to use her favorite word -- browbeat House into ... something. Who knew what. Stacy wasn't always the most rational person, either, when she was upset and/or worried.

Wilson glanced at the clock and sighed. Now was as good a time as any. Past dinner but before bedtime. He flipped his phone open, hit the first speed dial button, and listened until House's answering machine picked up. "I know you're there, House," he said. "I'm coming over. If there's a hooker there with you, you better be done by the time I arrive. Uh... And if you're not, I guess I'll wait in the kitchen or something. But I'm coming over and I'm letting myself in and we're having this talk that we've been saying we need to have. See you in a while."

A half an hour later, Wilson unlocked House's front door and slipped into the apartment. "Honey, I'm home," he called, rather hoping House was actually alone.
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