The phone rang.
"Hello."
"Hey."
Wilson smiled charmingly at his Aunt Ruthie and extracted himself from the conversation that, up until that point, had seemed to consist of all her friends' medical problems and why Wilson had yet to have any children.
He made his way through the noisy and overcrowded living room, back through the kitchen, ducking his mothers inquiring looks, and into the garage.
"Hey." He repeated.
"How's your Mom?" Wilson let his eyes fall shut shortly, reveling in the familiar sound.
"Fine. She invited Katie."
"Wife number one? Why?"
Wilson shrugged. "I don't know. She likes her." Wilson leaned against his mother's car, staring at a rack of gardening equipment. "Do you miss me?"
"You left 14 hours ago."
"Yeah. Do you miss me?"
"It…might have been a…little hard to sleep."
Wilson grinned stupidly. "I miss you too. I kept rolling over and you weren't there. You should have come along."
"Uh, no. How's it going?"
"They keep asking why I don't have kids. I'm not even married."
"What do you say?"
"I just tell them I don't know. And smile, you have to smile."
"Tell then you've been to busy sucking cock."
"That was it! I knew there was something I was forgetting." Wilson ran his finger along a shelf, collecting dust. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
"I ordered Thai…and then after she leaves I might get some takeout."
"Yeah, funny. I'm serious."
"Beer. Sleep. A very special episode of 7th Heaven."
Wilson drew his name in the dust. J-I-M-M-Y. "A Greg House trifecta. You should call Cuddy, ask her to dinner."
"Encouraging me to dine with a confident busty woman. That's a little strange."
"Well, I'm just a riddle wrapped in an enigma, aren't I? I'm serious; I'll call her if you want."
"Don't you think she has better things to do then go to dinner with me on Thanksgiving?"
"No." Wilson ran his hand across the shelf, obliterating his name. "She's staying in town this year."
"Okay, maybe. But I am not going to sleep with her. She'll just have to get pregnant the old fashioned way, cold metal tables and turkey basters."
"I'll be sure to pass that along."
They sat in comfortable silence for a little while.
"Why?" House asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Why do you want me to go to dinner with Cuddy?"
"I'm not telling. That's the rule isn't it?"
More silence.
"You could give me a hint."
Wilson laughed. "Compersion."
"Is that my hint or did you just insult me?"
"That's your hint."
Wilson heard the sound of someone removing something the bottom of a stack. Pages fluttered. Looking up, he saw the sleds he'd loved so much in childhood stuck in the rafters, looking dusty and disused amongst bits of rope and scrap wood that never seemed to get thrown away.
"How do you spell it?" House asked, breaking his concentration.
"I'm not telling." Wilson said, a bit annoyed at the wait. House undoubtedly had that ancient leather bound Oxford English Dictionary in his lap, taking up his whole lap really, and was skimming through the C's.
"Compensator. Compere. Compete. No Compersion." Wilson heard the book close. Then footsteps across a room and something grabbed. Footsteps back to the couch.
"What are you doing?"
"Wikipedia." House muttered. Wilson heard typing. Damn that wireless internet. "Compersion- the experience of taking pleasure when ones partner is with another person. Also known as the frubbles." Wilson heard the laptop close, slowly and distinctly. "You experience pleasure when I'm with another person?"
"Yeah. You being happy makes me happy."
"And it's called frubbles?"
"I don't know anything about frubbles."
House said nothing.
"I swear to god, I know nothing about frubbles." Wilson said, trying to make him laugh.
"That's all kinds of weird."
Wilson's smile faded. "Yeah, I know."
"If I so much as see you talking to a woman; I want to kill her."
"Yeah, I know." Wilson shifted awkwardly as though House was staring at him through the phone." I'm weird, remember?"
"You're an anomaly." This was not necessarily an insult.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm not gonna get frubbly if you wind up fooling around. Know that."
"I didn't say frubbly. I said compersion. And I never said…"
"I'm a miserable jealous bastard and I can make you miserable too."
"I know that. God, do I know that. No worries. I'm being good. You just….you wanted a hint, okay. So I gave you one."
"All right." House said.
"All right."
"No getting frubbly with your ex-wife."
"What does that even mean?"
"I dunno. Just don't do it."
"Fine. I will avoid all frubbles with my ex-wife. Will you go to dinner with Cuddy?"
"Why?"
"Compersion."
"Do I have to sleep with her?"
"I'll leave that to you."
"Do I have to be nice?"
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Why is that the second thing you worry about? Yes, you have to be nice to the beautiful woman who is willing to be seen in public with you."
"You didn't make me be nice to Cameron."
Wilson ignored that. "And you need to be clean and dressed decently."
"Okay, I'll go."
"Good, I already told her you would. She'll pick you up at seven."
"Oh for Christ's sake!" House said. "This is going to bug the crap out of me."
"But you don't understand it, right?"
"Not even a little bit."
Wilson smiled. "Then I bought us another two months."
House chuckled weakly. "Yeah, I guess."
Wilson slid off the car hood. "It's cold. I should go inside."
"Hmm? Yeah. Well…"
Wilson was barely conscious of a noise behind him. He ignored it.
"Well," House repeated. "I'll see you when you get back. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"AndIloveyou." House mumbled.
"I love you, too." Wilson said, smiling wider.
"Well, I'll let you go…"
"Jimmy?"
This voice was not expected.
This was his mother's voice.
Which meant his mother was in the room, which meant that creak had been…
Wilson spun around, mouth open, the phone still to his ear. His mother's expression conveyed one word. Busted.
"I have to go." He said.
"Why?"
"Jimmy, what are you doing out here? Who are you talking to?"
"Look, I have to go."
"Why?" House repeated.
"I'm hanging up now." He told House.
"Who are you talking to?" His mother asked again.
Dial tone.