Everyone's favorite Vicodin addict was sitting on his couch in a t-shirt and boxers, watching a home-improvement show marathon.

He did love watching idiots with power tools. The suspense was tangible.

[ooc: For she what knows who she is.]

He hadn't even been sure why he'd gone in the first place. And Piper had disappeared on him.

He'd spent worse nights, admittedly. But it was irking him more than a little that he felt... ditched.

So he was currently drinking heavily in his kitchen.

[ooc: For Piper]

House sat on his couch, idly flipping the TV channels, hoping there'd be something racy on Cinemax or something.

He was eating a brownie. He had lots of those.

[ooc: Open, eh? Someone, admittedly, is expected.]

House had everything clean and tidy for Piper to come cook for him.

He really hoped those two teenage brats would keep out of his hair.

[ooc: For thems that know who they are.]

The kitchen was already clean, so House didn't need to worry about that.

Really, he wasn't worried at all about tonight. He had to actually care a great deal to worry ( Read more... )

House had a white board up, and was starting to list symptoms. He'd grabbed random members of the staff, because he worked better with a team. Of coure, he knew he'd work better with a team of people who were smarter, but he wasn't about to call up Cameron or Wilson quite yet ( Read more... )

Amazingly, there is no snarky message. Merely a beep before one should leave their own message.

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