Who: Greg House, James Wilson What: House and Wilson catch up, and House drugs him...for the great justice Where: Princeton-Plainsboro, Lounge When: Lunchtime or Coffee tiem.
"That jokes is never funny to me and yet you continue to use it," Wilson said before pulling his glasses from his nose and shuffling a heap of papers to the side.
"It's funny for me, if you must know," House remarked then handed Wilson the spiked drink. For a whole 24 hours or so the manual said, the oncologist would have no choice but say the truth.
"You're aware the only person that takes pleasure in your sadism, is you, correct?" Wilson brought the coffee cup over and took a small drink. "So, what? Are you in need of another epiphany? Don't mind me. I'm still trying to cope with the fact that you're homosexually engaged to a devout Christian pediatrician."
Whatever happened from here on out was gravy, since the coffee was drank. "Wow, Wilson, I thought you'd be more tolerant of my life choices. Though by now, you should know that I've gone beyond genders. I happen to enjoy sex, no matter if I get it from the Yankees or from Cosmo readers."
"I'm more concerned for him than I am you. This could just be a test or a trial of some sort, at the worst? A game."
Wilson brought his coffee to his lips again and signed off on a few more medical documents. "I'm not immersed in whatever's happened to Princeton like the rest of you... I'm just trying to carry on like I would normally while hoping the part of my psyche acting like a blockade doesn't shatter under the pressure."
"Oh, it won't," slipped out of House's mouth but he gave it no follow up to say, "What makes you think that my engagement isn't real?" Questions about possible serial killers later, this was amusing.
"You've always mocked anything and everything to do with ANY SEMBLANCE of religion, I see you still treating it with disdain even while it's blatantly right there in front of you. After knowing you for several years I know that in every situation you enter there's always an underlying ulterior motive." He paused. "Which reminds me, why ARE you in my office?"
"What are you... What are you doin," Wilson shook his head and ran his fingers through his fringe. "I feel strangely... gregarious. That's amusing. That word of all words starts with your first name."
"It does. Now, to answer your questions in a neat and orderly fashion: I used some of my disdain for religion to good use. Second, I love Jimmy, even if we disagree in the notion of God because he makes me feel right. I am fully aware that made me sound like a 15 year old girl. Which brings me to my question: why are you so defensive all of the sudden when it came to acknowledging my relationship with another man?"
"Curious, you say? In what way, James?" The truth serum worked but House had to keep giving Wilson baseline questions as to prepare him for the three he wanted answered the most.
"You've been curious before? With whom, Chase? Chase qualifies as a girl most of the time," Greg egged on. The reason why Wilson couldn't was in due part to an inhibitor in his cerebral cortext that prevented lying.
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Wilson brought his coffee to his lips again and signed off on a few more medical documents. "I'm not immersed in whatever's happened to Princeton like the rest of you... I'm just trying to carry on like I would normally while hoping the part of my psyche acting like a blockade doesn't shatter under the pressure."
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Oh, how badly he wanted to lie.
"Not for me, either," it was blurted out; the words a bit mangled.
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