On nights when House's leg really hurt, he could be found in the bar. Somewhere between "normal hurt" and "excruciating" - since the latter usually meant he couldn't leave his bed. But if it hurt and he could walk, then numbing it with alcohol usually seemed like a good plan (especially since the Winchester was so close to his hut). It was the kind of thing he'd used to numb with sex.
He sat at the bar, on the end, because sitting at a table could imply you wanted company.
He wasn't picky about his liquor, he just drank it. Nothing particularly unusual about the ritual until he made eye contact with short, dark, and gorgeous over there. When he thought he saw her catch his eye too, he raised his glass, but he had no intention of getting up. Not for a rejection, and not when it meant picking up his cane.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-10-14 03:19 am (UTC)He sat at the bar, on the end, because sitting at a table could imply you wanted company.
He wasn't picky about his liquor, he just drank it. Nothing particularly unusual about the ritual until he made eye contact with short, dark, and gorgeous over there. When he thought he saw her catch his eye too, he raised his glass, but he had no intention of getting up. Not for a rejection, and not when it meant picking up his cane.