Well, I'm hurt. More than a hundred hits last chapter before I even considered posting this, and not a single review. A curse on your house. (Except that won't work, because House is Wilson's...)
Wilson stood in his kitchen. He was looking at a blue plate, which he had just found in his boxes of Crap the Lawyer Let Him Keep. It wasn't all that special. A lighter line of blue started at the bowed edge and spiraled its way into the center in a pretty little design.
He really should put it away. Stack it in the shelf, even though it didn't match the set he had bought new. He should put it there and then have company over and let them comment on the fact that it was irregular.
The fact was, he had gotten it in Rome the summer between his med school and internship. He and this pretty number named Bella had been going out a while and she brought him back to her mother country to meet her grandmother. Very sweet woman, that one. He had continued sending her letters back and forth long after Bella had traipsed off somewhere else.
So he should use it as a conversation piece, or something. Give him a chance to reminisce about the Good Old Days, before prescribing pills to a crotchety gimp every other day.
And, since House was obviously going to be the only one he ever had over for dinner, it would be a good way to remind the idiot that Wilson had, in fact, had a life before House. It had the ring of fairness to it, since House's old buddies kept popping up left and right lately.
Wilson hummed under his breath as he nodded. Yes. He definitely should.
The abandoned look that House would wear crossed his mind. His hand opened. The plate shattered.
He sighed and fetched his new broom, cursing House for being able to mess with his brain from miles away.
Please review this time?