...Oh, God, he should have known that he would have to be dealing with this sooner or later.
He knew that voice. Of course he knew that voice - he'd spent more than a dozen years hiding his lunches from that voice, to no avail. He'd just also been dreading the moment when he'd have to hear that voice shouting some variant of 'oh, my sweet Jesus, you cheating whore' across the tent, ever since these crazed surprise marriage things had gone down. Just because House was, well, House. And that was just... the way they did things.
Best not act nervous. House would jump all over that. Wilson set down the random magazines he'd been sorting - why, he couldn't say, it was just something to do, and Sylar wasn't around right now. "It's great to see you too, by the way, Greg, it's been a while," he shot back, eyebrows furrowing a bit towards the other man. He almost added some pun about how were the wife and kids back home? and... that would probably just have ended very, very ugly.
Wilson was being calm about this. Of course Wilson would be calm, it took a lot to get him worked up, these days. Prolonged exposure to House was probably for the reason for that. Also, he was the one who was at fault here, so he'd hardly be panicking about it.
"And who's fault is that?" House shot back, seething. "I don't think it's mine, unless I just got married as well. Unlikely, since I'm not addicted to cheating on people like it's going out of style."
On a whim, House jabbed out his cane and knocked over the small stack of magazines that Wilson had been sorting. Hah. That would teach him. Also, it was pretty damn satisfying.
Oh, fantastic. This is just what he wanted. Just what he expected from House, naturally, but, God. Wilson threw up his hands, helplessly, ignoring the disarray of magazines as if it didn't bother him. If he just picked them up again, House would knock them over again and it would be... an ugly process. He just settled with letting his eye twitch, for the time being. It was easier that way, it really was.
"Let's start in on that, then, huh?" he sniped in return rolling his eyes. "Let's pretend, for a minute," and he grabbed at the air, as if he could strangle it to relieve some stress, "that everybody in this tent city right now wasn't forced to get married. Let's pretend the world revolves around you for a minute and, yes, I just got married because I wanted to piss you off."
"Okay, let's pretend!" House snarked, taking a rather large amount of satisfaction in Wilson's clear annoyance at the knocked over magazine. Wilson was so anal about organizing things; it was a cheap and easy way to get him very quickly irritated. And House wanted him off-balance, it would lead to a straight answer.
House feigned a 'off in dreamland' face, pretending to pretend. After a few moments, he scowled heavily. "I tried," he said sarcastically. "And all I came up with was the world of a man who does like to piss me off, and has been known to cheat the moment some needy floozy gets all pathetic and," House pitched his voice, mockingly whiny, "'Oh, Dr. Wilson, please help me'. You can't help yourself, can you?"
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He knew that voice. Of course he knew that voice - he'd spent more than a dozen years hiding his lunches from that voice, to no avail. He'd just also been dreading the moment when he'd have to hear that voice shouting some variant of 'oh, my sweet Jesus, you cheating whore' across the tent, ever since these crazed surprise marriage things had gone down. Just because House was, well, House. And that was just... the way they did things.
Best not act nervous. House would jump all over that. Wilson set down the random magazines he'd been sorting - why, he couldn't say, it was just something to do, and Sylar wasn't around right now. "It's great to see you too, by the way, Greg, it's been a while," he shot back, eyebrows furrowing a bit towards the other man. He almost added some pun about how were the wife and kids back home? and... that would probably just have ended very, very ugly.
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"And who's fault is that?" House shot back, seething. "I don't think it's mine, unless I just got married as well. Unlikely, since I'm not addicted to cheating on people like it's going out of style."
On a whim, House jabbed out his cane and knocked over the small stack of magazines that Wilson had been sorting. Hah. That would teach him. Also, it was pretty damn satisfying.
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"Let's start in on that, then, huh?" he sniped in return rolling his eyes. "Let's pretend, for a minute," and he grabbed at the air, as if he could strangle it to relieve some stress, "that everybody in this tent city right now wasn't forced to get married. Let's pretend the world revolves around you for a minute and, yes, I just got married because I wanted to piss you off."
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House feigned a 'off in dreamland' face, pretending to pretend. After a few moments, he scowled heavily. "I tried," he said sarcastically. "And all I came up with was the world of a man who does like to piss me off, and has been known to cheat the moment some needy floozy gets all pathetic and," House pitched his voice, mockingly whiny, "'Oh, Dr. Wilson, please help me'. You can't help yourself, can you?"
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