The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Miss me yet?"

Wilson smiled as he turned the channel on the large television. "Of course." He said, pulling a pillow out from under the tightly made bed and stuffing it behind his head.

"How's the conference?"

"Dull. As always. How's home?"

"Steve misses you."

"Sure he does." Wilson said. He hit the power button on the remote. The television blinked off. "How's work?"

"Boring. Neurosyphilis. How's the conference?"

"Boring. You already asked that."

"I can't think of anything else to say."

Wilson let his hand roam to his thigh. "Wanna talk about something fun?"

"Uh, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Tease."

They sat quietly for a few moments, each breathing into their respective mouthpieces. Through the thin wall of his hotel room, Wilson heard the sounds of two doctors finding love, or at least a welcome distraction. The bedsprings sounded immeasurably loud. He rolled his eyes.

"What are you up to?" Wilson asked.

"Nothing. Television. Bottle of scotch."

"Of course." He recognized the tone of his voice as annoyed, though he couldn't tell why. "Why'd you call?"

"What do you mean, why'd I call? Why can't I call?"

"No, you can. I was just wondering."

"I'm lonely."

"You're never lonely. You get bored. You never get lonely."

"I'm bored then. What's the matter with you?"

Wilson sighed. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"You are not."

"I'm fine, okay? Leave me alone."

"Can't" House spoke quickly in one of his sharp sarcastic voices. "Not the way this works."

"Would you just stop!" Wilson regretted his tone immediately. "Look," He said, more quietly. "I'm just tired, okay. I had a long day. I just wanted to watch TV and unwind and you called, so I wanted to know why."

House didn't speak, but let out a long held in breath.

"What is it?" Wilson asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you." He said. "I'm not so good at this anymore."

"Good at what?"

"Being alone. You haven't been away for more then a day in a while and I just…it's harder then I remember." House laughed. "I'm pathetic, huh?"

Wilson smiled. "A little."

"So…" House said. "I think we should move."

Wilson's eyebrows attempted to escape from his forehead. "Did I just miss a whole bunch of this conversation?"

"I think we should move."

"Can't we talk about this when I get home?"

"That's just it. It's not your home."

Wilson's breath hitched just a little bit. He sat up. "I really wish you'd stop saying that."

"What? No. I mean…it's not your home. It's my crappy apartment. And even I only chose it because it's on the ground floor."

"No."

"But…"

"No." Wilson tried to force a laugh. "I won't move that piano again."

"We'll hire someone to move the damn piano."

"No." Wilson repeated.

"Why not?"

"Because I like our apartment. It's small and loud and when I left Julie, it's where I went. You took me in and…I like that." Wilson smiled. "It's where everything happened."

"We'd have sex in the new apartment."

"I'm not talking about that. Remember the first time you kissed me? We were in the entrance to your building and you just grabbed me and hauled me inside. I thought you'd lost you mind."

"Well, you were gonna leave." House muttered, as though that made perfect sense. Which it did, in a House sort of way.

"You slammed my head against the door. I remember that. I remember being body slammed against this door and most of me is doing homophobic ew-ew-it's-a-man things but I'm also just so…relieved. I was thinking, oh Christ, finally."

"You were?"

"Yeah. What were you thinking?"

"I hope he doesn't kick me in the nuts."

Wilson laughed, a full belly laugh, and fell back onto the bed, curling one arm under his head. "How romantic."

"It wasn't about romance it was about…it was that this thing was leaving and never coming back and I just wanted a piece to remember it by."

"This thing?"

"Us. Don't you remember? We had a huge bitch match, major screaming on both ends…"

"Yeah. I remember."

"And you started to walk out. Really just, walk out, of all of this. You were walking away from me and going back to her and it just pissed me off so bad that I grabbed you. I thought I was gonna punch you or something but I wound up grabbing you by the arms and pulling you inside and slamming the door and shoving you against it and I still thought I was going to punch you and I just…didn't."

"You kissed me." Wilson said, more to himself then to House.

"Yeah. I did. You want to keep this apartment because I physically assaulted you in it once?"

"More then once. It's the place where we slept together for the first time and where we scared off a dozen pizza guys."

"It was like three. Maybe. Two and a half."

"You don't have any happy memories about your own apartment?"

"The time we nearly burnt down the kitchen? That was funny."

"The time we burnt down the kitchen? Are you referring to the time you promised to take the bread out in twenty minutes and forgot about it for two hours or the time you turned the sink hose on a grease fire?"

"See. We should move. All your happy memories involve me endangering your well being."

"I'm not moving. You can move. I'm staying right where I am." Wilson glanced around. "Well, okay, not right where I am…"

"You do know you don't actually have to stay in a place to remember the things that happened there?"

"Yes, I'm the clingy one." Wilson said, dryly. "I'm the one who moved around so much as a kid I wouldn't let the hospital throw out the carpet I bled all over…oh wait."

"Fine. We won't move. Just don't complain next time the couple upstairs start square dancing on Sunday morning or the brat three floors up breaks up with her boyfriend." House paused for a beat. "Again." Another beat. "Right outside our bedroom window."

"I stopped doing that the time I ran into that man from next door. I said, 'Do you think you could keep your dog a little quieter at night?' He just stared at me and kept repeating, 'Mozart at 3 AM. Mozart at 3 AM. Mozart at 3AM.'"

"It wasn't Mozart."

"Was it 3AM?"

"Maybe. I don't do well when you work nights."

"So, you're like a dog. A dog that can play the piano."

"Yes. Exactly." House sighed and Wilson recognized the calm in his voice. It was as if talking to Wilson worked on House like a mild sedative. Soon House would get sleepy and want to go to bed.

"I'm gonna go to bed."

Wilson smiled to himself. "Yeah."

"You too?"

"No. I need to get out of this room. I'm going down to the bar to have a drink. Then I'll go to bed."

"Don't stay up to late." House admonished.

"Night."

"Goodnight."

Dial tone.