Dr. Wilson stalked down the hall, a scowl on his face, and a screw driver in his hand. Or the remains of a screw driver anyway. Pushing through the door to House's office, he saw that the man he was searching for sprawled out on the couch, his nose buried in a book of all things.
"Do you have any sense, any sense at all, of consequences?" Wilson spat angrily, waving the screw driver around for effect.
"Is that a trick question?" House asked, not looking up.
"You ruined my favorite chair. And you won't even look at me." James complained, sighing. Finally House looked up.
"It's Harry Potter." He wined, with a pout on his face.
"Why must you insist on immaturity?" Wilson asked shaking his head and walking toward the door.
"Wait." House called after him. Wilson turned back.
"I was bored." He offered as an excuse.
"Yes, and I fell through my chair in front of a single mother dying of breast cancer." House rolled his eyes and stood up, leaning on his cane.
"It was probably the most exciting this she's scene since she met you. Besides, there is nothing interesting going on in this hospital today. Let's go to lunch." Ignoring his friend's shocked expression, House walked out of his own office and started toward the elevator.
"In case you didn't know actual work goes on in this hospital. I do have a job to do." Wilson said, following House nonetheless.
"That's why I have my team searching the ER for anything that resembles an interesting case. Anyway, until they can find something better than a hiker who got bitten by a squirrel, we are going to lunch. And don't worry about your appointments, I canceled them all for at least three hours. So, I will say it again - lunch."
"You canceled my appointments?" Wilson demanded. House looked back at him.
"Do you not speak english? Or are you losing your hearing now?" He asked snarkily.
"Fine, but where are we going?"
"That place that you like on -" House stopped short when they reached the door. He was storing straight into the eyes of a woman with blood ozzing from a laceration on her scalp.
"Are you Dr. House?" She asked, her voice shaking and her eyes darting around the room. House smiled.
"Nope." He answered, trying to push past her. Wilson grabbed his arm to stop him from moving.
"You have to be. The short man with the hair said so." She stuttered grabbing for him as well.
"Lucas?" House questioned, spinning back to face her, but talking to Wilson.
"The private investigator Cuddy dumped?" Wilson asked, just as confused.
"Short, curly-ish brown hair, with an amazing smil-" The woman colapsed into House's arms.