Dr. Gregory House (dr_greghouse_md) wrote,
Dr. Gregory House
dr_greghouse_md

rp for harvard_law

ooc: Cont'd from here. This is pre-infarction House, just so anyone who might read this isn't confused.

House got home around seven-thirty that night - would've been earlier had the guy offering the ride home hadn't kept insisting on having "just one more beer for the road". He stashed his bag, lacrosse stick and jacket in the closet before he headed through the apartment to have a quick shower.

The woman he'd met at the bar, Stacy, had stuck in his mind. He'd watched her leave the bar when he returned to his table, disappointed that she'd left - though that he had her number in his pocket meant he could rectify that later if he wanted to. Once he'd finished his shower, he quickly dried off, tugged on some jeans and a t-shirt and then fetched himself something quick to eat.

House lived like a typical bachelor - lots of takeout, very little actual food in the fridge, save for a loaf of bread, tub of butter that had been in the fridge longer than was probably healthy and a few other random things that he never really found any use for. He slapped together a peanut butter sandwich and leaned against the counter, looking at the closet where he'd stashed his jacket as he ate.

Wiping his hands on his jeans once he'd crammed the last of his sandwich into his mouth, House made his way across to the closet and opened it. He fished around in the pockets for the napkin Stacy had written her number on. Shutting the door, he peered down at the number as he idly strolled towards the phone, wiping away a bit of peanut butter from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. It wasn't every day House asked someone for the number. Then again, it wasn't every day that someone bought him a drink at a bar - especially an attractive woman. What did he really have to lose? It wasn't like she objected to giving him her phone number.

Picking the cordless up from its cradle, House weighed the phone in his hand for a moment, still peering down at the number before he pushed aside any apprehension, and punched the number in. It was a cell phone number, and he had no idea what her schedule was - whether she worked on weekends or not.

Lifting the phone to his ear, he heard the ring tone on the other end.


ooc: Slowtimed.
Tags: rp, stacy
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