Wilson was out late at a Cancer Benefit at the Hilton, .
So he had taken this as an open invitation to steal the tub, and at least Wilson had taken a slight pity and let him reinstall his pull bar on the wall.
After the whole Lucas revenge incident Wilson had seemed awfully guilt ridden lately and had been disconcertingly nice to him, and although it was nice.
It was still fucking pity.
"However guilty Wilson does have his benefits" he murmured., as he toweled his hands off and reached for the cigar box on the floor.
Out the tattered cardboard box he liberated a a well rolled joint a silver Zippo and an ancient blue ashtray stolen from lifetime ago when Stacy was a secret smoker
He recalled for a moment the look on her face when he pointed out that he always knew and how it was giger counter for her unhappiness.
"Can't seep into nostalgia too hard it will ruin a good bath.' He thought soaping up a washcloth and giving his face a good scrub.
.As he gave his watch on the floor a brief glimpse "Only 8:11 plenty of time." he smirked and lit the joint taking a deep hit of the dusky sweet smoke.
"At least the upshot is , and it's a big upshot. Wilson is absentminded when his guilt eats him,"
He thought as he took a secondary hit on the joint.
As the pot made quick work of soothing his mind and leg he noticed that water had grown cold and reached for the hot water handle and shivered as t=he noticed he had ran out of hot water.
"Ah well I'm getting pruny and hungry anyway." he murmured as his thoughts shifted from gloom to pork fried rice.
He reached for the newly replaced rail and slowly tugged himself out the tub .
The air was chilly on his wet body as he sat upon the edge of the tub to dry himself, he observed the faint wafts of steam rising off hi nude body.
"Should have turned on the damn space heater:" he thought snagging his faded dark blue bathrobe off the floor.
After brief moment of huddling in his robe for warmth he collected "The Evidence", sprayed the place with Fe breeze to mask any unwanted telltale odor, and limped out into the living room.
The quiet of the apartment was disturbing, and he found it suffocating.
When Wilson was home the whole place was filled with sound and smell.
Always the communicative of the pair Wilsons presence filled the place with life, and House filled it with wit.
Sans Wilson he simply contributed the echoing sound of his own thoughts, and he hated it.
"Fuck it I'm going out tonight!"
He howled to the empty air , and speedily limped to his room.
After brief glance at the closet he snagged a fresh pair of jeans and a black button down, dressed quickly and shuffled to his own bathroom.
He ran a cob through the his still wet hair in a couple ragged passes and sprayed little English Sterling and gave a quick glance at himself.
"Not bad for dirty old man." He said to the mirror.
Then he walked out the hall and gabbed his good cane the one black one with the flames, and his black pea coat
He shrugged it on in brusque motion, and felt through the pockets .
"Ipod check."
"Wallet check"
"Keys check."
Then he gave a quick once over of the apatrtment and headed out to the Garage.
He stood for moment plugging the headphones in and booting up the IPod cuing Steely Dan's Deacon Blues letting the music wash over him as he cranked the bike and set off.
The night and the buzz where a comfortable wash on his bruised ego, and the lyrics suited his mood.
They Got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama
The Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues
Later that evening
The club was thick with the smell of Sweat and Cologne, and through the thick smog of Cigarette smoke everything seemed like a hazy dream.
He watched on absently nursing his Whiskey Sour savoring the bitter earthy taste of the liquor and admiring the the leggy red head tightly wrped in shiny black vinyl trenchoat taking the stage.
"And let's give a warm welcome to our next lovely lady the Tempting Ms. Tawny folks" the DJ crooned over the speaker.
She glided onstage as echoed as the sounds of a train halting rained through the club, and the screech of an Englishman this made him smile.
She turned face forward to the audience and un tied the Coat slowly kicking it offstage revealing the skimpiest of schoolgirl uniforms was revealed.
"A Schoolgirl stripping to The Wall Part 2 now that's the definition of irony."
He was intrigued by this rare moment of artistry in the albeit classy , but ridiculous environment.
He put the drink down and turned his attention to the Redhead Schoolgirl as she took a slow turn around the pole giving the audience a sultry smile.
"Definitely doesn't need any education in this particular talent."
His thought was interrupted by warm touch on his shoulder and a oddly familiar voice, saying "Need some company to go with that drink?"
He turned curtly coming face to face with the owner of the voice, and was stunned to find the owner of of the voice was a Light skinned Honey Blond with a half cocked smile and limpid brown eyes.
"Dr House?" she whispered the eyes widening in shock as he turned around facing her.
Authors note that's it for now, and update will shortly follow.
That's The End For Now