House frowned, brows drawing close together and his mouth tightening in a thin, straight line. He looked up again, glancing out through the glass walls of his office. Wilson was still out there in the hallway, talking to one of the residents and pointing at notations on a patient's chart. If he felt House's eyes on him, he didn't show it.

House dropped his gaze back to his desk. The object of his puzzlement was still there. He'd actually wondered for just a moment if it would disappear if he took his eyes off it.

The postcard showed a Mediterranean beach, all sun and sand, umbrellas like large colorful mushrooms with happy tourists lounging beneath. He turned it over and read the message again. House -- Spain is even better than South Africa! Miss you and wish you were here. Love, Wilson. All in Wilson's left-handed, butchered scrawl. He rechecked the postmark -- like the first, it was from four weeks ago. Archimedes, regarding him from the postage stamp, seemed to be saying, Well? Solve the equation!

This couldn't be a joke, as Jimmy had suggested last week. One postcard, perhaps ... but two? What was going on? A game like this had to be well-planned out, far in advance. The sheer logistics that were involved --

"Lunch?" Wilson poked his head in House's office. House hastily slid the new card under some papers.

"Sure, just give me a minute," he replied. Wilson nodded and ducked back out.

House frowned again. He'd looked completely innocent -- but then Wilson always looked innocent. Even caught red-handed in prank, escapade, or actual affair, those high cheekbones and youthful face had often been enough to absolve him of any guilt. House felt certain all of the ex-Mrs. Wilsons would testify to that.

He allowed himself to briefly consider other suspects -- his Fellows, an old college friend -- but dismissed them immediately. No. This was interesting. This was tricky. This had depth. This had the fingerprints of James Wilson all over it.

Sighing, he used his cane as a brace and pushed himself up from the chair. He'd let this rest for a while, watch his friend carefully. Better right now to lie back and observe.

This plan worked perfectly until the next week, when the third postcard arrived.

tbc