Take a look at me now...
Who: Wilson, Cuddy (closed)
Where: Cuddy's home.
What: Wilson cooks Cuddy a thank you dinner.
When: Friday 31st of March, late afternoon
Incomplete.
Late Friday afternoon, Wilson was sitting on the bed in Cuddy’s guestroom staring into space. He’d been that way for a while, though he hadn’t really noticed the time passing. His cell phone was in one hand, resting on his thigh.
It was supposed to have been good news, the call, but it had brought Wilson nothing but a hollow feeling. Since Wednesday Wilson had been doing little but searching for his own place; ringing real estate agents, driving around to check places out, organising his finances. The guilt of imposing on Cuddy had remained, despite her assurances, but finding a place to live wasn’t ever going to happen overnight.
After Tuesday night, with the embarrassment of breaking down in front of Cuddy lingering on - though that was only partly the reason he did it - Wilson had clamped down hard on his emotions. The result was that he generally just felt numb, as if the part of his brain that controlled emotions had been anaesthetised. He’d also tried not to think about House and what had happened between them, though that had been a completely futile endeavour. At least the home-hunting had been somewhat of a distraction.
Wilson was actually very surprised that he’d gotten an okay already. But then, he had money and real estate agents loved people with money. The place he’d gotten the okay on was a two bedroom apartment, very similar to House’s - though Wilson hadn’t consciously noted that. He’d decided he didn’t want a house; they were too big and required too much maintenance. The apartment was in good condition, spacious, had a nice view, and wasn’t too far from the hospital. That was all that really mattered to him.
Letting out a deep breath, Wilson finally put his phone on the bedside table and stood up. He supposed that he'd be spending all weekend moving into the apartment before going back to work on Monday. The prospect of going back to work still left Wilson with a feeling of dread, but he knew there was no choice. Cuddy had been overly generous as it was giving him three days off and sooner or later he and House were going to have to see each other anyway.
Making his way into the kitchen Wilson hoped Cuddy didn’t mind him going through her cupboards - she wasn't yet home for him to ask - and set about making them a lavish dinner of artichoke and sun-dried tomato seasoned chicken with a side dish of pasta. It was the least he could do after everything she had done for him.
Where: Cuddy's home.
What: Wilson cooks Cuddy a thank you dinner.
When: Friday 31st of March, late afternoon
Incomplete.
Late Friday afternoon, Wilson was sitting on the bed in Cuddy’s guestroom staring into space. He’d been that way for a while, though he hadn’t really noticed the time passing. His cell phone was in one hand, resting on his thigh.
It was supposed to have been good news, the call, but it had brought Wilson nothing but a hollow feeling. Since Wednesday Wilson had been doing little but searching for his own place; ringing real estate agents, driving around to check places out, organising his finances. The guilt of imposing on Cuddy had remained, despite her assurances, but finding a place to live wasn’t ever going to happen overnight.
After Tuesday night, with the embarrassment of breaking down in front of Cuddy lingering on - though that was only partly the reason he did it - Wilson had clamped down hard on his emotions. The result was that he generally just felt numb, as if the part of his brain that controlled emotions had been anaesthetised. He’d also tried not to think about House and what had happened between them, though that had been a completely futile endeavour. At least the home-hunting had been somewhat of a distraction.
Wilson was actually very surprised that he’d gotten an okay already. But then, he had money and real estate agents loved people with money. The place he’d gotten the okay on was a two bedroom apartment, very similar to House’s - though Wilson hadn’t consciously noted that. He’d decided he didn’t want a house; they were too big and required too much maintenance. The apartment was in good condition, spacious, had a nice view, and wasn’t too far from the hospital. That was all that really mattered to him.
Letting out a deep breath, Wilson finally put his phone on the bedside table and stood up. He supposed that he'd be spending all weekend moving into the apartment before going back to work on Monday. The prospect of going back to work still left Wilson with a feeling of dread, but he knew there was no choice. Cuddy had been overly generous as it was giving him three days off and sooner or later he and House were going to have to see each other anyway.
Making his way into the kitchen Wilson hoped Cuddy didn’t mind him going through her cupboards - she wasn't yet home for him to ask - and set about making them a lavish dinner of artichoke and sun-dried tomato seasoned chicken with a side dish of pasta. It was the least he could do after everything she had done for him.