Time: Directly post thread in 13's kitchen; post Wilson's return thread
Characters: Hawkeye, Thirteen, House, Wilson, Angie, Snape, Draco, Dexter, possibly Neil
Rating: No idea. PG13?
Status: Incomplete
Summary: Wilson's back, and House decided to invite half the town over for dinner in celebration... (or to avoid having Alone Time since he's still
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Comments 93
Plus these dishes were absolutely filthy for certain.
Someone she hadn't met was standing by the kitchen. Must be Angie's father - there was a certain resemblance around the eyes and the hair. He was stirring a large pot of ...
oh fucking hellfire.
Spaghetti sauce.
"Hi." she said quietly, and dumped her dishes in the sink, topping it up with warm soapy water.
There were some in here, she'd just do them, it would be easier.
As long as their water was warm enough. She let it run hot for a minute or two, filling the kitchen with steam.
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"Whoa, Whoa, Thirteen don't you think you should say hi first?" he said when he finally reached the kitchen. He only then noticed the other guy, "Why hello zombie man or at least I assume you are the zombie man."
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It would do. Fortunately she'd had the presence of mind to bring a decent scrub brush and some good soap.
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"Um... yes... I suppose the 'zombie man' would be me. But it says James Wilson on my birth certificate. And... you two are?"
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"One drop. That's all you have in that vial. All you need to do is slip it into his drink. It is oderless and tasteless and the effects are almost immediate. I suggest you wait until the two of you are alone. If he starts spilling his every thought and secret to a room full of strangers, he may never forgive you."
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She busied herself with the placemats and then continued from there, going back and forth to the kitchen as needed to bring out silverware and dishes for other people (after making sure they were clean, of course). Thicket scampered back and forth at her heels, occasionally leaping onto her shoulders when he was nearly stepped on.
And she'd even accidentally put the ruler in the bag after baking the cookies! Excellent. Everything would be perfect.
She stepped back, surveyed the table, nodded once, and took the spot closest to the door.
Now she just needed to organize her own place. Better get to that. She started unwrapping the dishes from the ziplock bags, humming a bach fugue quietly to herself as she did so.
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Watching her he was kinda sad, he'd had his 'nutties', (as he'd heard someone on the bus say he'd immediately latched onto the word, it was a good one) but this... he felt sorry for her actually. Not that she'd want his pity or anything.
He moved a fork slightly out of place just to tease her and grinned.
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One plate. Dead center in the middle of the placemat. The rest of them went back in the bag for now. One fork. One glass. The rest of those went back in the bag.
Perfect. She nodded again and mused a bit, half to herself. "Of course House will probably jump on the table with golf cleats on as soon as he sees it, but there's only so much I can do, I guess." She sighed, leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through Thicket's fur. "I'm absolutely certain everyone at this table thinks that I'm crazy. Well, I am, so that's just that. I'm better than I used to be and that's comforting at least. Hell, I'm here."
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"Seriously, it's fine, you'd put our head nurse Major Houlihan to shame, and that's no small potatoes." He signed and sat down where he'd moved the fork. "Just...it's ok really."
What else could you say to a...well, he didn't know the official terminology but...compulsive person like that.
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Blond.
Pretty.
"Umm...hi?"
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But... it wasn't a bad sight either.
"Hi..." he answered, wondering if it was just his imagination or if the other blond was actually giving him the once over. Then he wondered if he minded. He shook his head. He was here for a reason. "Is Dr. House here?"
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He ignored Sev's amused smirk. His godfather really was perverted sometimes. Then again this was the most he had said to a stranger since he got here. Had to be a sign.
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She set the plate with noodles on it to one side - that was safe, at least - and began separating the sauce into its component parts - tomatoes in one section, meat in one section, vegetables in individual areas depending on the vegetable. It was impossible to get all of the tomato sauce off the vegetables, and she tried very, very hard not to panic about this.
She hated spaghetti. If she had her way the stuff wouldn't even exist. Too many things mixed up with each other. The only thing worse was casserole.
At least this time she probably wasn't going to faint at the table.
Hopefully.
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"You do know that spaghetti normally tastes better with the sauce on it." He wasn't even gonna touch the picking out of everything with a 10 foot pole.
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