"So," Wilson casually leaned against the railing of the balcony, "How's your leg?"
House simply looked up, eyes blunt and dry as ever. "Spectacular. I just take the Vicodin because I really like it. It's candy that I buy in bulk."
"People can buy candy in bulk," James laughed, "Can't they?"
House shrugged. "Well, if you can buy ties in bulk, I'm sure candy's acceptable."
"Don't mock my ties. Just because I wear them and you don't—"
Gregory's face was twisting up in a smile. "I don't want to wear them. Silk makes me sick."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "You're a piece of work, House."
Fin.
(A/N: Before you ask, the title has nothing to do with the story. It's Drabble 42, and 42 is the answer to the universe. Again, my plot bunny ran away. Has anyone seen it? I call him Wilson.)
