WILSON IN THE EVENING
Title: Wilson: Princeton to Baltimore
By: lbc
Pairing: House and Wilson
Rating: mature adults
Genre: pre-slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned these characters
Words: 886
Summary: Wilson deals with the monster.
Note: This is the continuation arc from the series: Wilson InThe Morning.
What do you do when you walk out on your best friend? James Wilson sighed, closed his eyes, and pressed his head to the steering wheel of his Lexus and sat for a moment; then got out of his car and walked into John Hopkins to begin a new life - - for three months, at least.
The weeks flew by. The work was interesting, and he enjoyed explaining and demonstrating some of the techniques that Princeton-Plainsboro was using in the field of Oncology, but there was a deep, devastating drag on his body and it had a name: Gregory House.
He didn't see Billingsly or Travis much, but there were a few other faces that were familiar, from a seminar or lecture or something, but it didn't make any difference. They weren't the one person that he wanted to see more than anything . . . the royal pain-in-the-ass and best friend, Greg House.
His apartment was comfortable, but no female or, for that matter, no male had crossed the threshold in the six weeks since Wilson had taken up residence. No late night pizza, no DVD watching, no sneaking into a coma patient's hospital room and watching 'General Hospital', no desperate need for a consultation that was merely a means of skiving. Wilson sighed as he realized how much the limping, scruffy faced man was involved in his day to day life.
For some reason, James Wilson noticed the calendar, sitting on his practical, well-designed desk. The three doctors who had made the trip to PPTH in the exchange had given over their offices to their fellow exhangees. Wilson had inherited Mark Vestry's desk, as neat and precise a specimen of orderliness as could ever be found. Normally Wilson would have loved it. He was methodically neat at work and took it out on his own living quarters. Only now he didn't have a home of his own in Princeton. The final papers of his third divorce had come through two months before; so he gave up his apartment again to his ex-wife, as he had done previously, much to House's amusement.
He had been reluctant to tell House about his divorce for that very reason. He should never have married any of his wives; they would never and could never be a substitute for the furry-faced man that he had fallen in love with some 18 years before. But, all of that was gone now. Wilson had his independence . . . and little else.
Leaning back in his chair, in the perfect office, Wilson glanced at the calendar once again. Six weeks . . . six long weeks. It was now April and while he had kept in touch with Cuddy - - for professional reasons - - he had heard nothing from or about Gregory House, except the vague hints that Cuddy dropped from time to time. He had heard about House's run-in with Cruikshank; he knew that House had lost weight. Wilson had asked if his love handles were gone, but the hospital administrator had ignored the question; maybe he should have asked Cameron, instead. Wilson knew that House was looking tired and in pain, but that was nothing unusual . . . and that's where the revelations stopped.
Suddenly, James Wilson sat straight up in his chair. He stared at the calendar again. April 8! Why did April 8 ring a bell? Then the answer came to the young doctor. Reaching into his billfold, James Wilson carefully removed two tickets: tickets near the main floor for the long awaited sequel to "The Monsters Do It". He had purchased the tickets to thank House for allowing him to stay in his condo. Then the Valentine's Day debacle had occurred and Wilson had walked out. What was he going to do with them now?
Wilson continued to stare at the tickets. They had cost him a bundle. He had even arranged for the two men to stay overnight at the 70 Park Avenue Hotel and eat at Sardi's. The cost would rival the national budget, but Wilson wanted House to know how grateful he was, without actually saying it. Now it was all for nothing. James Wilson was more than 150 miles away, and the two men hadn't spoken in six weeks.
What was he going to do?
Wilson stared at the phone for several minutes; he knew that he could cancel the hotel reservation, but what about the monster machines? Why should he miss out on such an event? New York wasn't that far from Baltimore. He could find someone else to go with him. . . someone else who would appreciate being with him; staying at a great hotel, and eating gourmet food. He didn't need Greg House!
Continuing to stare at his phone for several more minutes; James Wilson finally picked up the phone and placed a call.
After speaking for a moment or two, James Wilson straightened his suit and tie, going off to do battle against another monster.
TBC