Jan 16, 2006 08:03
He'd had a comfortable dinner with Wilson, then retired to the small apartment with Cash. Cash had taken a while to settle down, preferring to run around the apartment and pester House to throw his ball for him. The pair had finally collapsed in the bed, sometime after midnight.
House swung open the clinic doors just after 8 am. He was showered and shaved and breakfasted. Cash had eaten and romped out in the courtyard. It was a rare morning for House, and the clinic was the last place he wanted to be, but there he was. At the desk, sucking on a red lolly while Cash played with the ball at his feet.
Dr is in. Coffee is brewing, Johnny Cash is singing to the waiting room. Come on in. He is still taking blood samples, if anyone is willing to give
alanna trebond,
cash,
aziraphale,
open clinic,
victor borkowski,
susan pevensie,
gregory house,
counselor