dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.comWilson was bored. He was used to days at the hospital, running at full throttle and though he’d deliberately stepped off the fast lane of life; his subconscious had yet to catch up with his conscious choice. So, he was bored and he needed something to do.
Anything to do.
Anything at all.
Somehow, that desperation to alleviate his boredom translated into the oncologist finding his way out of the apartment he shared with House to the bastar…err…Diagnostician’s office. Even if everything else in his life was topsy turvey, Wilson knew one thing would be constant; House would be behind on his charting.
Dressed in jeans and a simple grey sweater, rather then his habitual tie and dress slacks, Wilson had no problem unearthing a stack of charts sitting in House’s ‘In box’. Smirking affectionately, to himself, Wilson carried the stack over to the desk and settled himself down on his best friend’s chair. Pushing his sleeves partially up his forearms, the oncologist flicked on the desk lamp and reached for the first chart.