Timing is Everything

[mcgill_pride]

Characters: James Wilson, Neil Perry, Gregory House, Charlie Dalton, Xander Harris (Hopefully Jack Harkness!)
Location: The Club
Privacy: Semi-private
Rating: PG
Summary: Fancy meeting you here.

Comments

[pwnsgod]

(OOC: RPGing at 4am is not a good idea. The typos were too painful. I had to fix them. It's the OCD.)

Jack was scheduled to go on if Charlie and the band ran short. The kid had only been there for a couple weeks, but he was good. House approved. It was his first night. Logically, House should've skipped out --

Maybe he would have, had Jack the time to take him to another time and place again. And no, he didn't mean metaphorically. He meant literally. Their date was fun (yes, fun. He said fun and meant it) last night. He could get used to that --

But House wasn't going to avoid his new stomping ground on the off chance Neil and Wilson would show up. That just wasn't his style. Instead he sat in the back, at the bar.

"Pirate,” House said at the man approached. "Come looking for rum?"

Oh, and he saw Wilson enter. Yes, he did. He just didn't acknowledge his partner. No need to make a scene and ruin the night; at least, not until Charlie was done his set.

*

"Grog actually," he answered bluntly, not at all happy to see Gimp.

He needed to hide out for a while, he figured a jazz club was an un-Xander like place, so no one would come looking for him. He'd wanted to sit back and get his head together. Maybe if he did that he'd stop digging himself into a hole with Dawn and the Saints. But with House here, forget that.

"A Killians?" he said to the bartender as he sat down at the bar, a stool away from Gimp.

*

"You..." House drew out the word to make a point, "Look mopey. Why are you mopey, Matey? Don't have any cripples to kidnap and torture? Don't you dare try for a Redux. My new play toy has access to alien technology and knows how to use it."

*

Xander just sighed at House, not in the mood to deal. "I'm done with the abductions, if you wanna kill yourself I'm not gonna stand in your way this time."

The bartender came back and He handed over a few bills and took his drink.

*

Wilson watched as Neil sat down at a table, fixed on Charlie's performance, before he broke left and headed for the bar. Alcohol seemed to be a requirement these days.

Chancing another sideways glance allowed him to spot Xander sitting next to House. The more distracted House was the better chance Wilson had of getting out of here without embarassing himself.

"Bourbon. Small glass," he muttered to the bartender, sliding a bill across the counter.

*

"I'm done with the abductions, if you wanna kill yourself I'm not gonna stand in your way this time."

*

"Good," House said. "That's all I want. But you didn't answer my question. What makes Mr. Mopey mope?"

He saw Wilson approaching the bar. He knew exactly what made that man mope. Thus, he was currently bored by the scenario. The fact he broke pack with Neil was slightly interesting. House always thought "there was safety in numbers". Or maybe Wilson just wanted to be slaughtered. Poor Wilson, because that part of the twelve-step program to recovery was over. "Paul," House shouted to the barman. "Put his drinks on my tab."

He raised his coke to Wilson. (And he wasn't drinking tonight. He had other plans.)

*

Wilson stared at House curiously, waiting for some glint of malicious intent to shine through. He was both surprised and at a loss to find no such venom in the guesture.

"Just how long has it been since he actually paid the tab?" he asked Paul, who grinned and slid his glass down the bar. Wilson tipped his glass in House's direction, making sure to meet his eyes.

He was in the dark this time, completely unaware of what was going on in House's head. It was frightening in some ways and in other ways...it was a relief.

*

Wilson looked a bit confused at House's action. He could act generous if he wanted. (And... maybe drunk Wilson was amusing, but that's wasn't the point.) He needed Wilson to know that what he did in the apartment was over. That emotion had passed. Not passed in the "we'll never deal with it again", but it had become more passive. He achieved his venegeance and it no longer consumed him. Now, this was about fun. House couldn't remember the last time he had fun. Jack was bundles of fun.