Meh. Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy with school, and I've been dealing with an acute case of writers-block. I came up with this while watching 'No More Mr. Nice Guy', from Season 4 of "House, M.D." and right after poking myself in the eye with my damned finger nail... D: Hah. God, I love it when Amber and House fight over Wilson like a newly divorced couple. Anyways, enjoy. I dunno if it's funny or not, but I enjoyed writing it, as usual. :3 I suppose this can be categorized as pre-slash... It's set during the time Wilson stayed with House during his break-up with his third wife, Julie. Warning (?): Julie is possibly OOC.

The Buddy Collections

Chapter 10: The Call

It was late one weeknight in House's apartment. The lights were all shut off, and the diagnostician lay prone in his bed, in a deep sleep for once. Down the hall in the living room, his couch was filled with a calmly sleeping oncologist.

The land line rang suddenly, echoing loudly in House's ears. He remained still, though awake, willing the ring to stop. He chanced a glance at the clock: 3:37 a.m. Seven rings later, he dragged himself over to the other side of the bed, grabbed the receiver and grunted, "Who the hell is this?"

The line was quiet for a moment, though he could hear someone breathing. Just as he was about to hang up, figuring it was a crank call, a voice said, "H-House?"

He sighed. He had been rooting for a crank call; he didn't want to waste precious sleep-time talking. "Yeah."

"It's, um, it's... Julie, James' - just Julie." the voice slurred slightly; the woman was clearly some level of drunk.

"Great. What do you want?"

"How's James?"

"Considering the fact that he was kicked out of his own house by his cheating wife? He's walking on sunshine, of course."

"Oh, shut up." the voice snapped, "I know that all the time he's been with you rather than with me wasn't spent drinking beers or just hanging out."

House placed a hand over his eyes. He did not need this right now. "What do you suppose we were doing, then? Having wild, gay sex?"

The line was silent in reply.

He sat up, wide awake now, "What, seriously?"

"Don't play dumbass with me! I can't tell you how many times I laid in bed awake, listening to Wilson talking in his sleep about you. It's always "Greg this" and "Greg that"!"

"... He doesn't call me 'Greg'." he pointed out.

"Of course he does! Even when he's awake. Any time he talks about you at home, it's always 'Greg'." She paused, he assumed to take another drink. "I heard him admit in his sleep that he's too embarrassed to call you 'Greg' to your face. You'd probably tease him or something. ... Blah, blah, blah, "I'm a poor little closeted oncologist"."

The diagnostician listened intently. He wasn't sure whether it was her drink talking, or if it was actually true. Maybe, just maybe, he couldn't read his best friend as well as he'd thought.

"Julie. Get off the phone, go to bed, sleep off the booze."

Another pause. "Alright. That's a good idea. Say hi to James for me!" she added before hanging up.

House slowly set the phone back on its base, blinking. He wasn't sure whether he should feel uncomfortable or some sort of flattered. After a small debate with himself, he decided on curious. This piece of gossip was definitely something he would have to experiment with soon. He laid his head back, resting comfortably on his pillows, deciding which choice phrase would be best to greet Wilson with the following morning.

-…-

There ya have it. The time that I made it has no real significance. I just chose it at random. I have no clue what Julie's really like, but I'm just making a guess as to what she act like when drunk. It was fun to write, as I stated earlier. Please leave comments, etc., as they make me happy. Flames will be used to make my vacation a little warmer than what it has started out being.