When Gregory House woke up that morning he had to pause, shaking his head against the sudden feeling of... but it was gone. His usually obsessive mind didn't even give the feeling a second thought as he limped into the kitchen, cane swung over his shoulder as he settled himself against a counter
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She went to a drawer and pulled out an apron that was clearly meant only for her with frills and ribbon. "Would you like one or two this morning?"
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"Giselle," He started, frowning slightly, "You know that it's my turn to make the waffles."
"And you," He then turned to address House, "need to put away that cereal right now."
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He watched the waffle standoff, a handful of cereal in hand and ready for devouring when Sylar forbad it. He made a very mature face and put the box down, eating the cereal in hand out of spite if nothing else as he hobbled to the coffee machine.
"If it weren't for your waffles and cheerful demeanor this would never work out." He shot to Sylar from over his shoulder.
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"I take it you'll want milk this morning Gregory since you've already had a sip."
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He tried his best not to be mad at Giselle-- it was an honest mistake, after all. "That's fine." He smiled at her, more sincerely than he had at house. "Could you get orange juice for me, if it's not too much trouble?"
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