Wilson wasn't surprised to come home to find his apartment trashed. With House still signed off from work and struggling to find something that would occupy his brain in the way his cases had, every day was a challenge for Wilson to find entertainment for House while he was at the hospital.
He had thought the newly-filled TiVo would have kept House's attention, but apparently even pay-per-view Monster Truck marathons and specialty porn got boring after two days, and bored House got stir-crazy.
He rubbed the back of his neck with a resigned sigh as House came barreling down the hallway towards him.
"About time you got home! I need batteries. Two AA batteries to be precise, I've already got two. All your lame apartment could provide was this."
House unceremoniously dumped a pile of assorted batteries at Wilson's feet. Square ones, large ones, small ones for watches, but none of the type required. "Most of them are dead too. Why do you obsessively hoard everything?"
"Dare I ask why you need batteries? If it's for some sex toy, I'd like to remind you this is my apartment and you're not doing that on my couch – or my bed," he amended, noticing House's expression.
"Well... okay, no. I did that before you got home." Ignoring Wilson's look of alarmed disgust, House made his way to the living room. "Speaking of your obsessive hoarding tendencies though, look what I found! It's got Mario... Castle Wolfenstein... Pokémon!"
Wilson paused in his arriving-home ritual and glanced to where House was animatedly waving a familiar, grey object: An old GameBoy that had once belonged to Danny. It had been left behind the last time his brother had visited him at med school, shortly before his final exams, and Wilson hadn't had the heart to throw it away, even now when it was years obsolete.
"But like I said. Needs batteries to make the fun go." House pouted at Wilson.
"There should have been some in the utility drawer."
"Looked. Didn't find any. Did find some other fun things, though, got my imagination working for a while." His face lit up as he pretended to remember the good times. "That was actually what I did before you got home... You know, what I said earlier... You'll want to be careful where you sit in that seat," as he thumbed vaguely over his shoulder and grinned wickedly at Wilson's sudden panic.
"Okay. Sit down... Behave... Clean up whatever mess I really don't want to know about while I make dinner."
"Ooh, dinner!" House's eyes lit up again, in genuine anticipation this time. "I'm starving; all I've had today is peanut butter."
"Huh? Why? I left you lunch, all you had to do was microwave..." Wilson trailed off as House rolled his eyes at him. "Of course, I forgot. Microwaving something is far too close to the effort of cooking for you."
"Damn right." House replied sardonically before returning to childish glee. "Can we have lasagne?"
"House! It's a beautiful summer day. Lasagne is far too stodgy for weather like this."
"Yeah, and really, you're too stodgy for lasagne," House teased, poking Wilson's middle with his cane and making an exaggerated thoughtful face.
"I am not. Hmph. I was thinking a salad and a light omelet, and we'll eat outside?" Wilson looked up at house with an appeasing expression, knowing really that any food was likely to meet with approval at this point.
"Omelets are girl's food. Better off with burger and fries." House grumbled, but Wilson figured it was out of habit more than discontentment. He headed to the sitting room to flick on the TV and fiddle with his powerless new acquisition.
The eggs were cooking gently and Wilson had put the finishing touches to his salad when House stumped into the kitchen and leaned on the table. Reaching his fingers into the salad bowl and picking out a carrot stick to munch on, he remarked nonchalantly "Might wanna watch your step for any slipperiness. Got bored earlier in here too."
He grinned as Wilson quickly glanced at the floor, and reached into the bowl again – less because he wanted salad, Wilson knew, and more because he took a perverse pleasure in winding up his friend.
"God House, you're..." He didn't finish the sentence with words but rather with an exasperated gesture. "Fine, I'll find you batteries. Just watch the omelet and flip it when it's brown at the edge."
Storming past House, he groaned when he reached his room to find that it too had suffered at the onslaught of House's search. Was nothing sacred? No sooner had the thought arisen, did he berate himself. This was House... Of course Wilson's bedroom wouldn't be off-limits. He just really hoped that House had been joking about the extent of his 'boredom' earlier.
He hurriedly straightened his belongings, searching for the travel shaving razor he knew took two double-As. He found it eventually, arranged pornographically with two balled-up socks behind his vanity mirror, and he sighed when he realized it had already been violated. Presumably, these were the two batteries House had found already.
Distracted from the cooking by the mess in his room, Wilson was quickly reminded by the smoke he found billowing from the small kitchen on his return. House was sat on the couch, seemingly oblivious and absorbed in the GameBoy in his hands. The working GameBoy, judging by the tinny music emanating from its speakers. Wilson grabbed it from his grasp and threw it on a table on his way to the kitchen.
"House! The kitchen is on fire, and you're playing Mario!?"
Rushing over to the stove, he coughed and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve as he whipped the pan off the hob. He struggled to spread a dampened towel over the fire one-handed, before removing his other hand from his face to help. A fresh burst of smoke blew up into his face as the towel ballooned over the heat and Wilson spluttered and gasped for fresh air, his eyes streaming. Satisfied that the flames were under control, Wilson backed out of the kitchen, still coughing, and was startled to find strong arms supporting him.
House had limped quickly to the kitchen at the possibility of his friend actually being in danger and had been ready to catch him as his body doubled over with the force of expelling smoke from his lungs.
"Easy Wilson, just breathe... I've got you."
Wilson allowed House to guide him to the window and open it, and he gulped in mouthfuls of oxygen gratefully before resting back against House in exhaustion. His voice was raspy when he was finally able to speak.
"House... I asked you to stay with the omelet! How could you just leave it?"
House shrugged uncomfortably, but tightened his grip on Wilson's arm imperceptibly.
"Figured you'd come back for it soon enough."
"I would have if I'd heard..." Wilson looked confused for a moment and then looked back at House, warning in his eyes and voice. "Why didn't the smoke detectors go off? House?"
The older man at least had the grace to look guilty as he mumbled and glanced away.
"I did need two more batteries..."