Wilson strode down the hallway of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, not particularly excited to be there. His eyes were downcast, and dark shadows were visible underneath them. He looked as if he had spent the morning trying to rid himself of a nasty hangover, as his usually perfectly ironed clothes were slightly rumpled, and the hair he normally blow-dried was a messy halo around his head. He reached his office door, unlocking it and slipping in quickly, as if he was attempting to avoid contact with a certain snarky doctor in the office next door.

Said other doctor was currently lounging in a chair in his office, using his cane to battle the wall in a game of catch. Thump. Thump. Thump. He popped a Vicodin and continued. Thump. Thump.

Wilson sat down and pulled a large stack of paperwork out of a drawer, setting it on his desk and sighing. He should have completed it the night before instead of skipping out early with House. Damn him and his powers of persuasion. It was probably those ice blue eyes. But no, Wilson wouldn't think about such things. Especially after…

Thump. Thump. Although he was glad to have broken that chain of thought, the incessant thumping that had just startled Wilson out of his reverie was going to be a problem. He waited to see if it would stop. Thump. Thump. Nope. Wilson sighed. He knew exactly where the noise was coming from, and he wasn't going to go and ask House to… No. That just what House wanted him to do. So Wilson took out a pen, settled himself in, and got to work.


"House, have you actually done any work today?" Thump. Thump.

The ducklings filed into his office, not at all surprised to see him just sitting there.

"Unless you've got a case, go away. I'm busy," he told them.

"Doing what, exactly? You're not going to win against the wall, you know," Chase pointed out. Cameron tilted her head curiously.

"Isn't that the wall that connects your office to Wilson's?" she asked. "You know, I think he has enough work to do without-"

"Don't you worry; he'll be here any minute." House smirked. His ducklings frowned.

"How long have you been doing that?" Foreman asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"About an hour and a half. I told you, he'll be here any-"

"House! Would it kill you to leave the damn ball on the floor and go do your clinic hours like you're supposed to? I'm trying to finish some paperwork!"

Wilson had burst into the room, white coat flying behind him, practically stamping his feet. His eyes were wild and The lines on his forehead revealed the stress he was trying to hide.

"Umm… it might kill me, yeah. You look like hell, Jimmy, what happened to you?" House's eyes were just a little too innocent, his smile just a little too wide. Wilson glared daggers at him.

"You know perfectly well what happened to me! Stop smiling, damn you!" Wilson did not look like he was in the mood for House's antics.

"Why Jimmy," House said in an annoyingly high voice, "I have no idea what you mean. Maybe you should have spent a little more time on your hair this morning. It looks like a bush."

Wilson snapped.

"Dammit House! It's not my fault that all morning all I could think about was how you tried to-". He stopped, snapping his mouth shut, as if he had just realized that Chase, Cameron, and Foreman were in the room as well. Said ducklings were currently looking very confuzzled, as opposed to House, who was grinning madly. Wilson's cheeks started to turn red. He was staring right at House, and House was staring back at him. House's team was staring at both of them. No one said anything until Foreman broke the silence.

"Tried to what?"

Wilson spun on his heel, half-running out of the office, and his door could be heard slamming behind him down the hall. House stared after him until the door shut, and then turned back to face the wall. He laughed to himself, picked up the ball, and threw it against the wall again.

Thump. Thump.