The Ball

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wanderingwidget has, is, and does not plan in the future to make any money on any of the fics here archived. They were written and are provided for pure entertainment purposes.

Author: wanderingwidget
Rating: G
Pairing: N/A
Summary: Wilson notices that something's missing from House's desk.
Author's Note: Well, I read in an article/interview that someone on the set actually stole the ball and put it up on eBay. That, led to this. Written in less than half an hour, while listening to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and less than five hundred words. Not beta'd, not spellchecked, not obsessively re-read.


It was just a ball, it shouldn't have bothered him that much. Just one of a couple dozen distractions that Greg had hoarded in his office. James wasn't even sure where in the hell he'd gotten it in the first place. For all he knew Greg had stolen it from some hapless clinic patient. Actually, now that he thought about it, he was nearly certain that was what had happened.

Still, it was an anomaly, and it bothered him.

That ball had sat on Greg's desk for as long as James could remember, which - admittedly - probably wasn't as long as he thought it was, but still. Greg was a creature of fixed habits and his toys were high on his list of 'touch it and die,' nearly as high up as his personal life and porn collection. The thing was, the ball was gone, and had been gone for almost a week.

He'd tried to be subtle about it, checking a different corner of the office with sly glances every time he'd dropped by, but it was nowhere to be seen. And he wasn't as subtle as he'd thought he'd been.

"eBay." Greg said. It was three o'clock, Friday, and both of his eyes were pinned to the screen of his ancient TV. Robin was urging Patrick to stay away from Carly and Greg had seemed to be fully immersed in the plastic world of Barbie and Ken doctors.

"What?" James said.

"I sold it on eBay." Greg said.

James opened his mouth, about to ask exactly what he'd sold on eBay, but Greg held his finger up in a silencing move and leaned closer to the television. On the commercial break he turned to give James his full attention. "You sold your ball?"

"Yup."

"Somebody actually paid money for it?"

"A lot of money." Greg smirked, obviously pleased.

James blinked, then frowned. "How much money?"

"An obscene amount."

"How obscene."

"Very." Greg said. The commercial ended and he turned back to his show.

James spluttered. "But, why would anyone want to buy your ball?" He demanded.

Greg, by way of answer, pointed to the TV. James - irritated - glanced at the screen, then did a classic double take. "You have got to be kidding me."

There, on the screen, was Greg's ball, sitting on the desk of Dr. Nobody Cares at a jaunty angle.

Greg cackled. "There's a sucker born every minute."

"I can't - no. I totally believe you did that." James said. He shook his head in awe, then his brows dropped. "So, how much did you really get for it?"

END


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