(no subject)
WHO: House and Cuddy
WHERE: Cuddy's "apartment"
WHAT: Where do you go to when you want to cry your eyes out? Why, to the person who's carrying around the biggest pillows on the base, of course.
Four years ago, House had discovered that Wilson was a card-carrying member of the National Audubon Society. House had "discovered" this fact when he was going through Wilson's wallet in search of pizza money and, boom, there it was -- James E. Wilson, Member -- the incriminating evidence on a laminated ID card. A further revelation: Member since 1993. This had irritated House. Wilson had never shown any interest in bird watching. Sure, he'd owned a pair of binoculars (Wilson's second ex-wife had given them to him for a Christmas present; Wilson's final moment of marital emasculation came when she line-itemed them specifically in the divorce proceedings) but, hell, House had always assumed that Wilson was using them to look for boobies. Not the "blue footed" variety, either.
So Wilson liked bird-watching. (Over pizza: "Hey, how come you never told me that you were a member of the airborne geek squad?" He'd held up the card. "Will you quit going through my wallet, House? You're worse than my wife.") And Wilson liked art shows, and plays by Eugene O'Neill, pistachio ice cream, James Cagney, mountain biking, and he panted like a wound-up lover when the L.L. Bean Christmas catalog got delivered.
House didn't know Wilson at all.
He dragged himself down the hallway toward Cuddy's apartment. Hot air on his face. The backdraft from explosions? No. Then what? He knew. An oversized book was wedged underneath his sweaty armpit: National Audubon Society Field Guide To Birds: Eastern Region. A wide-eyed and imperious-looking owl stared out from the front cover; House's thumb covered one globe-shaped yellow eye. His own eyes were gutted red and raw. He leaned in Cuddy's doorway. Knocked. When she opened the door, he said,
"Wilson's dead."
He was about to offer her the field guide to prove it, but then realized it would accomplish absolutely nothing. His throat felt backed up with bile and for a second it was difficult to breathe.
WHERE: Cuddy's "apartment"
WHAT: Where do you go to when you want to cry your eyes out? Why, to the person who's carrying around the biggest pillows on the base, of course.
Four years ago, House had discovered that Wilson was a card-carrying member of the National Audubon Society. House had "discovered" this fact when he was going through Wilson's wallet in search of pizza money and, boom, there it was -- James E. Wilson, Member -- the incriminating evidence on a laminated ID card. A further revelation: Member since 1993. This had irritated House. Wilson had never shown any interest in bird watching. Sure, he'd owned a pair of binoculars (Wilson's second ex-wife had given them to him for a Christmas present; Wilson's final moment of marital emasculation came when she line-itemed them specifically in the divorce proceedings) but, hell, House had always assumed that Wilson was using them to look for boobies. Not the "blue footed" variety, either.
So Wilson liked bird-watching. (Over pizza: "Hey, how come you never told me that you were a member of the airborne geek squad?" He'd held up the card. "Will you quit going through my wallet, House? You're worse than my wife.") And Wilson liked art shows, and plays by Eugene O'Neill, pistachio ice cream, James Cagney, mountain biking, and he panted like a wound-up lover when the L.L. Bean Christmas catalog got delivered.
House didn't know Wilson at all.
He dragged himself down the hallway toward Cuddy's apartment. Hot air on his face. The backdraft from explosions? No. Then what? He knew. An oversized book was wedged underneath his sweaty armpit: National Audubon Society Field Guide To Birds: Eastern Region. A wide-eyed and imperious-looking owl stared out from the front cover; House's thumb covered one globe-shaped yellow eye. His own eyes were gutted red and raw. He leaned in Cuddy's doorway. Knocked. When she opened the door, he said,
"Wilson's dead."
He was about to offer her the field guide to prove it, but then realized it would accomplish absolutely nothing. His throat felt backed up with bile and for a second it was difficult to breathe.