Disclaimer: I no own House. I no own Wilson. I no own.
Being bailed out of jail was, considering what happened to you, no big deal.
Being bailed out of jail by a guy you've never even met though, is a different matter altogether.
He's taller than you by a head and a half; he doesn't look like he bothers to shave and his clothes are crumpled. He has a glint in his eyes that looks like he could see your every thought and every sin you've done he can suss out.
You have absolutely no idea what to say, so you settle for thanking him. You ask him how much you owe him.
He waves you off like it was nothing, tells you that he didn't even have to pay anything as he has certain information about the guard that helped him along the way, like how that certain guard is doing certain drugs he shouldn't be doing.
You tell him your name, he grins and tells you his. He offers to give you a ride, you see no problem with agreeing as you couldn't have possibly known he'd take you to his house.
It turns out he has a motorcycle and you feel trepidation, you've never really liked the dangerous things but you get on anyway.
He only has one helmet so he gives it to you, you protest of course but he shrugs it off and tells you he doesn't wear it with or without a passenger.
When you arrive at his apartment he goes in, you wonder if he's going to invite you in but go in anyway when you see him grabbing two beers from the fridge. He tosses you one and tells you to shut the door or the neighbors would get the wrong idea. You frown a bit at the implication but shut the door anyway.
You don't quite know what to say, he doesn't seem to care. You roll his name around in your head, Gregory House, it seems familiar like you've heard it before.
That's when you realize that this is the House. The one every professor calls the Prodigy of Diagnostics, the one rumored to be able to pinpoint your problem even when you don't know you even had one. Intelligent enough to upstage teachers in their own classes, audacious enough to actually got up to the board and rub away anything he says isn't right to him. He is every teacher's worst student and every class's best pupil.
When you ask him about your revelation he seems amused and confirms everything you've heard.
You're even more confused, why a guy like him would bail you, a simple Oncologist.
You ask, he laughs. Said he was bored and you were the most interesting thing so far.
He changes the subject and you find yourself arguing about Masher ™ VS Smasher ™ (the game, available on PS2) and who would win in a fight between Batman and Superman.
And that's where it all began. And ten years from then when he's trying to steal your wallet to pay for his lunch while you work off the extra clinic hours Cuddy's given you as a result from one of House's pranks you wonder if you had the chance if you'd change anything, maybe do something so that your long lasting strange friendship would never have materialized.
You stroll into his empty office and replace his vicodin with extra hot mints and slip out before he realizes he's forgotten his precious medicine and returns to get it back.
You smile and duck out before he catches you, and you hear him yell when he swallows a few without looking and your grin widens.
You decide you wouldn't have it any other way.