Sessions 28: Jail Break

House rested back against his cot with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling of the small little jail cell. As far as jail cells went it was pleasant one. A little reminiscent of the Andy Griffith show but hey, he'd seen the inside of far worse. He listened to Wilson flip over restlessly for the fourth time in as many minutes on the lumpy metal cot across the cell from him. He huffed and he puffed. He might actually blow the walls down. House held in a smirk knowing that if the disgruntled oncologist caught him having fun with this he might actually come over here and strangle the life out of him with his bare hands. He was pissed. He didn't blame him, it was after all his fault. He'd smashed his cane to the gas pedal so the cop in front of them would pull them over for speeding. It was a magical stroke of good luck that the cop had found the outstanding warrant from Louisiana. They would definitely miss the funeral now having spent the night in jail. First SARS and now this. This was good shit, you can't make this stuff up.

Wilson huffed again. "You couldn't leave it alone, could you?"

"I told you the struggle to resist ones capture is never pointless, " he said peering at him from the corner of his eye.

"You just had to push it, " he seethed.

"It was a spur of the moment decision, " he said off handedly. It was the truth. The situation presented itself and he seized the opportunity. "I didn't know you were a fugitive from the law."

"I wouldn't be a fugitive if you had taken care of the whole thing like you said you did, " he accused. "I had a cavity search, you asshole. Do you know how humiliating that is? It's not like having your prostate checked."

Well, that's amusing. "Nope. Haven't had the pleasure, although there was this one hooker…"

"Fuck you House, " he hurled at him.

"No need to get testy. So you had your rectum tickled… That's why you got to carry the drugs on the outside in a prescription bottle."

He heard keys jingling up the tiny hallway as one of the cops approached their cell. "Up and Adam boys, " the deputy said gesturing for them to come to the door. House slowly rose from the cot. His leg was aching and he needed his Vicodin. But that had been confiscated along with his cell phone and Wilson's car when they were detained. He limped heavily to the cell door and stuck his hand through the little tray slot so the deputy could handcuff him before letting him out. Wilson stared in disbelief at his comfort with the procedures of a night in jail. He shook his head in disapproval and taking the cue to do the same thing. The deputy unlocked the cell door and escorted them to a little sofa bench in front of the sheriff's desk.

House slumped in the seat to afford his leg a little more comfort. His one hand was cuffed to the arm rest so he rubbed his angry thigh with the other. Wilson sat shoulder to shoulder to him cuffed to the opposite arm rest. Wilson shoved at him irritated when his arm bumped his because of their proximity.

"What, I haven't had Vicodin in over eight hours, " he complained in his defense.

"Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"

His phone must have been sitting on the sheriff's desk. He wondered what the team was calling for now. It was morning and he hadn't been able to get the idea of a steamroller smoothing out pothole from his mind.

"Can I have some of my Vicodin, the accommodations here leave a lot to be desired, " he called to the sheriff who was perusing a file on his desk.

"No, not until I can determine what to do with you two, " he said.

"I'm a cripple, this goes against the American's with Drugs and Disabilities Act, " he said.

"It's America with Disabilities act; only one 'D', " the cop said with an amused smirk.

"Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"

Second call. Hmm. Something interesting must be going on.

Wilson rolled his eyes. He was getting fidgety and it was annoying him.

"Mmmbop, badubba dop…ba do bop"

"I need that phone call…I'm a doctor and when someone tries to call you three times its code for pick up the damn phone before someone dies."

"I'm sure there are other smart doctors."

"You'd be surprised." The sheriff didn't seem to agree. He put the phone in his desk drawer. He could hear he bottle rattle and his scared little Vicodin calling his name from the desk. They needed him.

"You told me you'd taken care of this, " Wilson said. He was back on that again.

"I did."

"First words you ever said to me, " he reminisced.

"I took care of it. You must've screwed up some how…" he wasn't going to be blamed for the warrant. That was solely Wilson's domain.

"Sir, not to hurry you but we need to be at a funeral in.."

The sheriff stood and looked really imposing. "Nobody's going anywhere or taking anyone's calls," he said pointedly at him, " 'til I hear back from Louisiana."

Wilson squirmed. "It's a really old warrant. Isn't there a statute of limitation on this kind of thing?"

"It's suspended when you flee the state, " he said. Noob…

"I didn't flee the state. I left the state because… I don't live in the state." His voice was getting squeaky. He was starting to get nervous. "The charges were just so minor…"

The cop picked up a paper from the file. "Vandalism; destruction of property. Assault?

Wilson started to sweat. It wasn't pretty. "There's a simple explanation, there was a medical convention in New Orleans…"

The cop put on his 'I've heard it all before' face. "You don't need to explain to me."

Wilson couldn't take the hint. "I was fresh out of med school…" The sheriff looked bored and went to get a cup of coffee. He could have used some himself, but the guy didn't look like he was in the sharing mood.

"You heard the man, Wilson, you don't have to explain."

Wilson's temper flared. "I'm not gong to sit here wasting time just so you can avoid your fathers funeral, " he shouted at him drawing attention from the cop who turned to stare at him.

"He's my father. I have the right to avoid his funeral, " he said defending himself to the sheriff now.

"Not if your mothers alive you don't." He came around the front of the desk and perched on the edge like an albatross. "Ok, explain." Apparently Barney Fife on steroids also had an opinion about what he needed to do just like everyone else in his life.

"I was at the hotel the bar trying to unwind. There was this guy who kept playing Billy Joel's Leave a Tender Moment Alone on the juke box."

"Leave a Tender Moment is a good song, " the cop said.

House nodded remembering fondly where this was going. "It's a great song; he was outta line."

"Not as good as Scenes from an Italian Restaurant… or…" True, the man knew his Billy Joel… of course there was his new favorite, She's Gotta Way

Wilson held hand up to continue "… So I asked the man to stop politely."

"Yeah, you yelled politely, " he said helping the story along.

"I was polite the first couple of times but courtesy made no impression on the ass so, I threw a bottle into the mirror which… successfully conveyed my message."

"And smashed ten foot antique mirror and set an example to the two other patrons who threw shot glasses." Ah good times….

"I had nothing to do with that fight. The assault charge was totally bogus and… I paid for the mirror."

The cop smiled. "I think I have the picture. I assume you're the guy who was playing the song…" he asked him with a knowing smile.

"Nope. I was the guy who bailed him out."

"That's how we met; I was in jail." Wilson shook his head depressed.

"This guy was a total stranger to you and you bailed him out?"

House shrugged indifferently. It had noting to do with kindness. At all. "It was a boring medical convention, I needed to have someone to drink with."

"And there's the foundation of our entire friendship..If you hadn't be bored one weekend it wouldn't even exist."

House looked at Wilson. His words hurt. "Hey, there were 3000 people at that convention you were the one I thought wasn't boring; that has to day something."

"It also says something to me that you lied to me about getting the charges dropped…"

Oh here we go again… "I got a lawyer; he cut a deal, you didn't call the guy. You have to show up at the arraignment everybody knows that…"

Wilson snorted. "Everybody with your misdemeanor experience."

The cop came over and uncuffed Wilson. House was confused. "You can go, " he said and moved over to unhandcuff him.

"What?!" House exclaimed "He's a fugitive from justice. That whole story was lies. He stabbed a man."

The cop laughed. "Louisiana doesn't want to pay to get you back."

The cop took off his cuffs and handed him his Vicodin and cell phone. "Forget Louisiana, he was driving recklessly through your comatose village… " House pleaded with him. He never thought he'd actually ask to remain under arrest. "What, do they put lead in the jelly donuts here?" Maybe if he antagonized him…

The cop leaned down and got in his face. "Stop being such an ingrate and go pay your respects to you father."

This guy could not be instigated. Fuck. His luck just ran out. He was going to this damn funeral.