To anyone else who happens to be reading: We don't have TV hooked up at our house. We use DVDs to watch the previous seasons. :)
SWEETS: Dr. Wilson, can I just--
(Soft rap at James Wilson's office door. Booth sticks his head in.)
BOOTH: Okay if I come in?
WILSON: Booth. Yeah. Of course.
BOOTH: So, um, Sweets says you won't talk to him.
WILSON: I didn't bring him in to psychoanalyze me.
BOOTH: Mind if I sit?
WILSON: Be my guest.
BOOTH: He can be kind of-- useful. Try him.
WILSON: Hm. This from the man who told me that Lance Sweets was a, and I quote, "Geek nerdboy gamer drone who couldn't psychologize his way out of a wet paper bag." Oh, and that "maybe he should come back when he's gone through puberty."
BOOTH: He might have slightly gone through puberty since then.
WILSON: (Lifting eyes from paperwork to give appraising look from under eyebrows) Anyway I didn't refuse to talk to Sweets. I refused to have a session with him.
BOOTH: You know, that historical quote you gave kind of out of context is just my usual kneejerk reaction to sad little gamer geek nerdboys. He's alright, you know, my little boy thinks he's just the best. They kill fake people in Mortal Kombat together. Parker's one of the best.
WILSON: A session with a therapist is for a person with a problem. Or a person who needs watching, like you.
BOOTH: That's just it. We all think you could use a little watching.
WILSON: "We all"? Is this an intervention?
BOOTH: We just couldn't all get here at the same time.
WILSON: (Giving up on paperwork) Lay it on me. Who's "we"?
BOOTH: Angela. Hodgins. Sweets. Cam.
WILSON: Cam? I'm gonna kill her.
BOOTH: House. And me. Chase thinks you're fine.
WILSON: I don't have a problem. I'm just very busy with my job.
BOOTH: Yeah, about that. Your oncolologist job. It seems to be kind of getting in the way of real people and events. I don't know if you noticed, but Bones got like a ten million dollar advance--
WILSON: (Shakes head) Angela has some nerve thinking I have a problem... She's the one who was in here showing around a photograph, trying to solicit donations to save a piglet. I think Cuddy gave her a sack of gold or something. I'm the only sane one left.
BOOTH: Angela's been seen with Wendell Bray, so maybe that will take care of itself.
WILSON: Who's Wendell Bray?
BOOTH: A squintern. I mean an intern. Seriously, you don't know who all is on staff at the Jeffersonian? But like I said. A ten million dollar advance on Bones's book. She said she'll never have to work again. Do you think that's a good idea?
WILSON: What? No, I don't think that's good for anything. You must be exaggerating.
BOOTH: I'm not sure of the exact numbers, but I ain't exaggerating, alright?
WILSON: Has she considered not working?
BOOTH: Of course not. But don't you think you should know these things? And speaking of Wendell, the guy you don't know, Jack Hodgins wants you to let Wendell have his job. He thinks if you're this scatterbrained he can't be your right-hand man anymore in the Jeffersonian. And he wants Zack to get a pass for work.
WILSON: No. You know I can't do that. And if he wants me to replace him, he should be here himself talking to me about it.
BOOTH: About that, he's in a deep blue funk.
WILSON: Because of Angela?
BOOTH: Nope. No, not at all. Because Jack Hodgins has been talking to the Fates and he is very very concerned about you.
WILSON: I was talking to the Fates this morning and they didn't say anything of the sort. Well. I wasn't talking-- I picked up some mail from them. I guess I haven't seen them in a couple weeks. Cuddy handles all the cases for House lately...
BOOTH: Have you ever been incarnate? Where's your guardian angel? You must have one, right?
WILSON: (Passes a hand over his forehead) I don't know where he is. You've mentioned everyone except Temperance. What does she think?
BOOTH: That's what I'm here about. Bones thinks you're the Lord of the Underworld and you've been fallen a long time and surely you must know what you're doing. That's what she said: "He must know what he's doing."
WILSON: There was some concern expressed?
BOOTH: Well, I said to her, "Don't you think this is getting--" (Stops, uncomfortable)
WILSON: I'm not going to smite you. God smites. I torment. Go on.
BOOTH: What I told her was, "Don't you think this is getting -- getting a little out of hand? Are you really being got ready for your incarnation?" And she said, "I'm sure I am." See, Wilson, my life on Earth was really important to me. I want Tempe to have one, and have a good one.
WILSON: I want that for her, too. Have you slept with her?
BOOTH: No. Of course not.
WILSON: Why "of course not"?
BOOTH: W-- well, you told me to. So obviously I didn't.
WILSON: I suggested you do so. As friendly advice.
BOOTH: Wilson, look. I was raised Catholic. I am a Catholic. One thing I learned. One thing I was taught pretty consistently growing up is that the Prince of Darkness does not give friendly advice. The Prince of Darkness is not anybody's friend. You know what's creepy? I'm sitting in this office with stale air and a regular doctor in a regular white doctor coat. But when I woke up in Hell it was all booming voice and creepy swimmy black background and "none of this will look the same tomorrow" or something like that. How do I know that's not the real you?
WILSON: (Smiles) That's the hardest part for the Catholics: the paradigm shift. But it's no skin off my nose. You can use all the Catholic support centers or churches or whatever you want in Hell. But it was friendly advice. And you can relax about the welcome speech. Everyone gets the same one.
BOOTH: Don't confuse me.
WILSON: Get me behind thee?
BOOTH: Yeah. My medal backs that up. Chase gave me a Saint Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows one just to wear here.
WILSON: Look, I copied that amplified voice and welcome speech from The Black-Eyed Peas' The E.N.D.. It's true and it's artful. I take on the form I'm going to be in for your contract after you get the greeting. This is just the form for House, right now. You know that.
BOOTH: Wait. That was an album introduction?
WILSON: I'm not a creative writer. You buy prewritten greeting cards, don't you?
BOOTH: But about my point.
WILSON: I doubt somehow that House cared one way or the other about Dr. Brennan's latest bestseller. If he had some intrigue to play with about it, he'd have brought it to me himself. So what's he doing in your little cabal?
BOOTH: Well, number one, you seem to have forgotten where the Box begins and ends.
WILSON: I have not.
BOOTH: Last time we saw House, you had to let him out. In fact you were right behind him.
WILSON: You were all yanking my chain.
BOOTH: But this time... I mean lately... I mean, he doesn't have passes, does he?
WILSON: Maybe he's forging them over the old one.
BOOTH: I think you're being flip. Sweets said he wanted to talk to you in the first place--
WILSON: Have a session with me--
BOOTH: Sweets and House went out for cigars and amaretto and poker--
WILSON: Why wasn't I invited?
BOOTH: And House told him...
WILSON: (Wary eyebrow raise) He told stories.
BOOTH: I think Sweets knows a good story, coming from House.
WILSON: So what happened.
BOOTH: House said to Sweets that one of the Jersey minotaurs married a Box character. And you didn't even know about it. And then she turned real and the change from her programming or whatever you call it to being a real person started eating her brain--
WILSON: No it didn't. Couldn't happen.
BOOTH: Sorry, Satan, it could and did. They thought at first it was mad cow or something.
WILSON: Mad cow?
BOOTH: Well some big word that sounds like mad cow. And House was going to make a crack about how she caught it from her husband because he's a bull minotaur, but then House realized, the minotaur didn't realize his wife wasn't real to begin with.
WILSON: Bullshit. So to speak.
BOOTH: Look, I didn't know anything about it, but it seems like everyone but you-- well, I mean, and me, because I can never tell the difference between Princeton-Plainsboro and everywhere else--
WILSON: That's the way it ought to be. It is a perfect replica.
BOOTH: Yeah but everyone else knows it's not real.
WILSON: Did someone tell Cuddy?
BOOTH: Not that I know of.
WILSON: Well, see that you don't. Okay, go on.
BOOTH: Everything's breaking down around you. Well, us. Well, you're supposed to be doing your job. Even the guy with the wife with mad-cow-only-not said he didn't even have Princeton-Plainsboro on his list to call when his wife went missing. When she lost her memory. He knew this place wasn't real, but House realized the guy didn't even associate his wife with it. The minotaur thought his wife was real originally. Your Box and everywhere real in Hell have merged.
WILSON: Only a little.
BOOTH: This is what Sweets thought you'd take better from me than from him.
WILSON: He's right.
WILSON: You're the least self-absorbed person I know.
BOOTH: (Surprised pause) Seriously?
BOOTH: (Shrugs it off) So. Bones. Wilson, you might as well send her up now. It makes no sense to keep her here. Not with her education slipping through the cracks and crazy amounts of money from publishers. She'd advance faster there.
WILSON: Alright. I'll talk to Sweets.
BOOTH: Thank you.
(Booth gets up, hesitates. Hand on the doorknob. Embarrassed and unsure.)
BOOTH: Would you give me a blessing before I leave? The last one is wearing off and I feel kind of naked without it.
WILSON: Of course.
(Wilson reaches to give Booth a kiss on the forehead and Booth bends to receive it, fingering his Saint medal at the same time. Wilson presses the spot with his thumb, then pats Booth on the shoulder.)
BOOTH: Thank you.
WILSON: (Loving) Now go away.
SWEETS: Dr. Wilson. Have a seat.
WILSON: I'll stand. This doesn't have to take long. I just want to get a brief eval of Temperance Brennan.
SWEETS: Certainly. Do you believe Samantha can love you?
WILSON: (Drops heavily into chair) Booth said you've been talking to House.
SWEETS: (Tips head and waits)
WILSON: No. I know she can't.
SWEETS: Because she's a soulless harpy.
WILSON: A charming, smart, well-put-together soulless harpy. We have a lot in common, we-- almost-- get along.
SWEETS: I'm not in the least trying to disparage her or your relationship. Do you agree I'm telling it like it is?
WILSON: Of course.
SWEETS: So, you've asked House to move out, so Samantha can move in. But why partner with someone who can't love you? I understand that you and Samantha have a history. Is there any reason-- besides that-- for choosing someone who, while totally charming, can't give you love in return for yours?
WILSON: I'm not looking for reciprocation.
SWEETS: Sure, no, okay, of course not, but beyond that. It's a relationship.
WILSON: Nobody in Hell can love me. Might as well-- okay, Samantha is someone who is worthy of choosing, don't get me wrong. But in response to your discussion question, might as well move in with one as another. But Samantha is special.
SWEETS: Of course. What do you mean, "Nobody in Hell can love me"?
WILSON: Lance! I'm the Devil.
SWEETS: (Anticipatory headshake)
WILSON: Everyone here is under contract to me!
SWEETS: Broadly generalizing, perhaps. For instance...
WILSON: You're bound with someone else. Alright, except for you and... okay, broadly generalizing, true.
SWEETS: Aside from the fact that I am acting as a professional, does my contract to someone else other than you render me incapable of having genuine feelings towards you?
WILSON: Of course not. No.
SWEETS: Interesting. First you said no one in Hell can love you. Go back to that. Who can love you? If no one in Hell.
WILSON: Amber. Amber could.
SWEETS: Of course, I never had the pleasure.
WILSON: No you-- you didn't.
SWEETS: She was a...
WILSON: A pixie. Fae.
SWEETS: And why could she love you?
WILSON: What an odd way to put it. She-- she didn't-- she wasn't supposed to be here. She couldn't even get a contract. Her pass expired when she got fired. Fae aren't supposed to be here.
SWEETS: No, but-- aren't there a lot of fae? It seems to me Booth's people show up regularly.
WILSON: Those are Booth's people. Some are the Seeley royalty, his family or entourage. They have passes. Most of the fae here have been human, though. They incarnate, they can come to Hell. Amber--
SWEETS: Never incarnated.
WILSON: The Fates had to organize a death for her. We all knew it was coming, but-- that was the last person who could love me.
SWEETS: I'm puzzled.
WILSON: Sure you are.
SWEETS: No, I mean. Looking at a few of the species who aren't fae. Who don't need invitations. Who can come and go as they please... (Ticking off a few on fingers) Elementals, of all kinds if I'm not mistaken. A few gods and their minions. Familiars. Or-- why not date a serial revenant like myself? Not me, you understand. Just a serial revenant of some kind. The soulless harpy is the one person whom you know who is absolutely unable to love you as you are capable of loving. This says to me she's a safe choice.
SWEETS: You know for sure she can't give you what you're looking for in someone else. Amber's not the only one who could love you. You're afraid that one specific person who is contracted to you, who's under your thumb so to speak, can't love you. The suspense bothers you. If you knew for sure, you wouldn't need the refreshing knowledge you get from your relationship with Samantha.
WILSON: I do have knowledge. I know he cares. But I know he can't love me.
SWEETS: Wow. You don't even roll a saving throw against therapists, do you?
WILSON: This is why I don't come to see you.
SWEETS: No it's, it's nice for me. Sit back down.
WILSON: I suppose you think that I've let Princeton-Plainsboro deteriorate into regular Hell so that House will be loose, and I'll have let go... and he'll be able to feel genuinely towards me. However he might feel.
SWEETS: No. No, I don't think that at all. As I understand it, House is contracted to you for a certain number of lives. It doesn't matter, does it, where the lifesaving happens, according to what he signed?
WILSON: No, right. That's right.
SWEETS: So he's contracted to you no matter how much you let him go.
WILSON: Unless I let him out of it.
SWEETS: Out of the contract.
SWEETS: But then he'll leave.
WILSON: He's still alive. He can go back to Earth.
SWEETS: And you can't.
WILSON: Not without -- no.
SWEETS: But if you let him out of the contract, you'll know for sure what he feels or doesn't feel. Just as you do with Samantha. And you want very much to know for sure, or you wouldn't have let Samantha back into your life-- no matter how deserving she might be. You want that feeling of being secure in your knowledge. But you want to be sure before you let him out. Which, of course, you can't be, because you're convinced no one under contract to you can love you.
WILSON: So I'm a hopeless procrastinator, is that it? Is that why everything's gotten away on me?
SWEETS: I wouldn't say everything's gotten away. In fact, I think you're exaggerating the situation, yourself, because others have picked up on it and are worried about it. You don't really think it's gotten so out of hand. I think you just wanted to see what House would do.
WILSON: The first thing he did when he got damned was to have a one-night stand with a rogue angel who buried him alive afterwards.
SWEETS: So you boxed him up. It's perfectly understandable.
WILSON: You're going to have to drag the next part out of me. I'm way too easy.
SWEETS: (Challenged, tents fingers) Alright. So. You see that House is behaving admirably when let loose a little bit.
WILSON: Still not dishing.
SWEETS: I'm not done. You intend to take a big risk, yourself. Samantha, as we have established, is not a risk, so it's not in relation to her. You want to see if House can be a rock during a time when you might make a huge mistake. You intend to take a leap of faith.
WILSON: Look, can we just talk about Temperance Brennan?
SWEETS: I could put the rest in a sealed envelope and open it later publicly to see if I called it.
WILSON: You dare.
WILSON: (Smiles) Alright. So I'm curious.
SWEETS: What does the Devil do that takes Faith?
WILSON: Any devil, not just me?
SWEETS: Any devil. As long as he's in a position of authority... We know the breakdown didn't start consciously on your part.
WILSON: How do you know that?
SWEETS: If it had, it would have started from within the hospital. Instead it started with letting real people from the outside in. That's not the first thing you would have consciously done.
WILSON: Good call.
SWEETS: Suddenly awake to the fact of what was happening, you decided to use it to further something you didn't even know you were going to do until the veil rent in two. You turned your back, things changed a little, then you let them change. You wanted to see if House could be your believer and your support system. You need a believer with his intellect and who was still alive when he came here. It's not just for personal reasons that you've chosen him now, although you do love him.
WILSON: Are you working this out as you go along?
SWEETS: I never reveal whether I know things ahead of time or come up with them on the spur of the moment. My solution, however I arrived at it: You're going to try to be a doctor in a hospital you didn't design, one that isn't centered around House or rather around you. You're going into outer Hell the way a king goes in disguise amongst his subjects.
WILSON: Whoah, Scorpion. Time-out, right there.
SWEETS: (Grins warmly) So. Dr. Brennan.
WILSON: Dr. Brennan... Now that I've been gutted. Booth thinks I'm holding her back.
SWEETS: You can put your entrails back in. Things will work out.
WILSON: Are therapists supposed to say things like that?
SWEETS: I've been around. It's as professional as I can get with a friend in distress.
WILSON: I'm not in distress.
SWEETS: Of course.
WILSON: Temperance Brennan. I might have-- I might have let my observation of her slide a bit. And-- you know, what the heck. I've totally blown off House's torment, too. Plus I've put off throwing Booth another bone on his contract. He's going to see through me. I suck.
SWEETS: So what's the problem? What does Booth see in your actions that he thinks is inadequate for Tempe's advancement?
WILSON: I'm sure he's told you. Not paying enough attention. Making it too easy for her. Slacking off. Being mean for no good reason.
SWEETS: Does Temperance slack off?
WILSON: Of course not. But I'm not directing her.
SWEETS: What exactly do you want to get out of this evaluation?
WILSON: A shortcut. Do I send her up?
SWEETS: You forked over some dough for Angela's piglet, didn't you?
WILSON: That's out of nowhere. It was not her pig, it was a pig! I don't even know which pig it was. I-- gave her ten bucks. I guess it kind of makes up for my eating bacon. Although I'm not sure I feel karmically empowered. But as for Tempe... Do you think she's too involved in what she's doing? Stuck at one stage? Not progressing? And her attachments...
SWEETS: Did you know that Agent Booth calls her "Bones"?
WILSON: Yes. Quaint. You'd think, if he's going to focus so much on her djinn nature, he'd be the last one to think it's appropriate to send her up to Earth as a human. Is she progressing so quickly that it's hindering her to keep her in my jurisdiction? I-- sometimes it's hard to let go.
SWEETS: Booth wants the best for her. Life was good for him.
WILSON: No it wasn't. It was Hellish. If you'll pardon the expression.
SWEETS: James, Dr. Wilson... Booth valued life. That's why he's here.
WILSON: That's true.
SWEETS: But as for Dr. Brennan...
WILSON: What do you think?
SWEETS: You may not be ready to let go, but that is a different problem entirely. She is, like, totally not ready.
WILSON: I don't know enough to even discuss this. And I'm sorry.
SWEETS: Look. You'll know when Temperance is ready. She's not oblivious. She's not ignorant. When she's ready to go up-- or over, perhaps more properly speaking, she'll be dissatisfied. There's not a thing wrong with her being entirely engrossed in her work at the Jeffersonian. She'll show you by her restlessness when she's ready to move on. Then you can test her and know it's not just doing pointlessly mean things to her.
WILSON: She'll have to go to the Fringe.
SWEETS: I know. I can go with her, if you like.
WILSON: I wish you'd take Wendell, when you go.
WILSON: I looked into him. Booth told me his name, and I thought I hadn't heard of the Brays. But that's your veil name for him, isn't it. His family have extensive experience with the Fringe.
SWEETS: Well I -- wow. Sure. We'll-- if he thinks it's safe.
WILSON: It won't be safe. That's the point.
SWEETS: Wilson. Talk to Tempe.
WILSON: I already know she worships the ground I walk on. What's the point?
SWEETS: Go. If you think it wasn't worthwhile, come back.
WILSON: You can't lose, can you?
WILSON: Dr. Brennan...
TEMPE: Oh, Wilson. Hi. Is there a problem?
WILSON: I know the last time I came in here there was a problem, but right now-- I won't keep you long-- I'm after a little talk to see what you think of my decisions regarding your "promotion". You're beginning to see things you couldn't see in the first stages.
TEMPE: I'm sure you're doing the right thing.
WILSON: You sound sure. And yet Booth, your constant companion, has expressed serious misgivings.
TEMPE: Oh. He's a Catholic. Don't get mad at him. He'll probably outgrow it. Or... develop beyond it, since he's already full-grown.
WILSON: He's not the only one. I've been informed that I'm worrying my friends. Apparently the only one on my side besides you is the other Catholic. And you don't mistrust me at all?
TEMPE: (Knits her brow) No.
WILSON: I didn't realize how out of hand this had gotten. Your books--
TEMPE: What about my books?
WILSON: Nothing. It's too late to change it now.
TEMPE: What would you want to change? Did I make a mistake?
WILSON: No you-- you're doing fine.
TEMPE: Because we can correct it in the next edition if you tell me what page.
(Wilson takes Tempe's chin. She puzzles at him, wide-eyed.)
WILSON: Just keep doing what you're doing.
TEMPE: Okay. Wilson-- I do wish, when I go up to Earth and incarnate as a human, that you could come and visit me sometimes.
WILSON: I'd like that.
TEMPE: Good because then I'd know someone on Earth.
WILSON: You'll be alright. I promise.
TEMPE: What if Booth could go with me? Don't you think that would be a nice idea?
WILSON: Booth doesn't want to go back to Earth. He wants to go home. Hasn't he talked to you about this?
TEMPE: Where's home?
WILSON: The fae courts. In faerie land. Where my Amber Volakis came from, only unlike Amber, Booth is Seeley. And fae royalty.
TEMPE: Yes-- I know he's a Seeley, but I don't know what that means.
WILSON: Booth wants to go back where the Seeley royalty, like he is, live. He's one of them, changed out with a human, and he's died and come here.
TEMPE: I know some of that. But-- couldn't I just go there instead of Earth?
WILSON: I thought you wanted to go to Earth. You're on the Earth track.
TEMPE: I did but-- are the fae courts like Earth?
TEMPE: I do. Want to go to Earth. I want to go where my simulation has prepared me to go.
WILSON: I know. Tempe... not everything about the Jeffersonian, even when you ask people to use their veil, is like Earth.
TEMPE: But you designed it perfectly.
WILSON: I designed it to be the way I want Earth to be for you. It's mostly Hell, with my fantasy laid over it. I'm very proud of it as such.
TEMPE: Wilson, beware of that. Pride is your biggest sin. And how am I supposed to learn what's important if it's part fantasy? Fantasy is never important.
WILSON: (Holds up a hand) Temperance, you can rest assured that regardless of what kind of simulation I've got worked out, and whether I'm there or not, no matter what situation you're in, the same things will always be true. And those will be the important things.
TEMPE: (Unsure) But how will I know which things those are? The accurate ones. The important things. I don't want to waste my time with any other kind.
WILSON: Today's piece of advice: waste your time.
TEMPE: Booth says you don't give people advice, you just lead them astray.
WILSON: I give advice. If they get led, it's up to them.
TEMPE: So if I waste my time, that's the wrong thing to do and I won't learn anything.
WILSON: On the contrary.
TEMPE: I know you're trying to be spiritual and lead me to something on my own, but I want you to just tell me.
WILSON: I'm going to lead you astray.
TEMPE: But even if Booth says so, I know you wouldn't do that to me.
WILSON: If I don't, then I will have failed. It's my specialty. A lot of people don't go to Earth from Hell, you know. You can start out from a whole lot of places.
TEMPE: Okay, I know logically you really don't want to lead me astray. And you certainly don't want to fail and you don't want me to fail for you, because you are very proud. Even if that vice is something you need to work on. So when you say I need to waste time and let you lead me astray, you must really mean the opposite.
WILSON: (Smiles) Eventually.
TEMPE: But I want to do it right.
WILSON: Don't worry.
TEMPE: I don't feel like I've gotten a lot out of this conversation. I'm sorry. I'll try harder so you can send me up sooner.
WILSON: You're way ahead of schedule.
TEMPE: But I'm proud, and I don't think excessively proud, that I've been on the fast track compared to a lot of your previous projects. I've been doing very well.
WILSON: Yes. You have.
TEMPE: But I might be interested in finding out more about Booth's native land.
WILSON: That's not my specialty, I'm afraid.
TEMPE: You're afraid, or you apologize?
TEMPE: (Suddenly hugs Wilson) Don't be afraid.
WILSON: (Moved) We'll get an invitation and both go look at it, sometime.
TEMPE: Thank you. Thank you very much.
WILSON: I suppose we each have work to do.
TEMPE: Yes. But it's always good to see you, Wilson.
WILSON: I will make a practice of checking in more often.
TEMPE: I don't need checking up on. I'm very well behaved.
WILSON: Alright then. It'll just be social calls. And to check that your team is on the ball.
TEMPE: I'm sure they won't disappoint.
WILSON: I think they believe I'm the only one slacking.
TEMPE: Oh, no, you're very hard working.
WILSON: (Amused) Coming from anyone else, anywhere, that would be underhanded.
TEMPE: I don't know what that means in this context.
TEMPE: I meant what I said as a complimentary observation.
WILSON: Wherever you go after this, you'll be one of my greatest and dearest champions. I only hope that serves you.
TEMPE: (Pleased) We like each other, right?
WILSON: Yes. We like each other.
TEMPE: This is a long Midwestern good-bye, isn't it?
WILSON: Ah. Yes. It is.
TEMPE: Zack explained it to me. One of us has to leave now.
WILSON: I'll leave, you get back to work.
TEMPE: (Curls lip, showing a tooth, in delighted obedience) You got it.
(Wilson smiles. And lingers. Then leaves. Tempe isn't watching him; she's working)
(Shy knock at Wilson's door)
WILSON: Jack, I know it's you.
JACK: I just gotta see you. This is getting crazy.
WILSON: I know what I'm doing.
JACK: No, no you don't. The Fates can handle Box programs. But the ones that change over-- do you know who controls those?
WILSON: They can't change. Look, it shouldn't matter. When Booth came here on behalf of you all he pointed out something about Princeton-Plainsboro: he can't tell it apart from anywhere else. I have a healthily Satanic torment in mind that I came up with, involved with his not being able to know whether someone is real or not, even when he's met them. Booth will take care of it once I set it up.
JACK: Booth!? Man, Wilson, that's what I'm worried about. I want out. Give Wendell my job. I can't watch this.
WILSON: (Mild) Don't be ridiculous. Wendell won't take your job.
JACK: Somebody else, then. Give me a leave of absence.
WILSON: If you don't want to be here for a simple torment exercise, why don't you just break with me and go back to Earth?
JACK: You know why. I love it here. You're jeopardizing something I love. Stop it.
WILSON: You've seen me do at least two of the same template before. What could possibly go wrong this time? Booth gets dead for a third or fourth time, what of it? I'm going to test it on House, first.
JACK: This isn't the same. Booth isn't the same. Before you know what's happened, Booth will be out of his contract. And if you lose this one, you think you keep your spot?
WILSON: I can't believe you have so little faith in me.
JACK: I am deadly serious, Man.
WILSON: You really think they could overturn me for this.
JACK: I-- (Pauses. Stares at Wilson.) That's what you want to happen. Oh, my God.
WILSON: Dr. Hodgins, what do you think is best to do in this situation?
JACK: (Shakes head and exhales sharply) I hope you have somewhere warm and safe to run to, Buddy.
WILSON: There is no proof that any of this is going to happen the way you say it will.
JACK: I sense a "but" coming.
WILSON: But. If you see anything like what you expect to see, cling to the Jeffersonian. Just do what you do best. Guardian-style.
JACK: I... won't let go of it.
WILSON: Now you go. Go back to work. (Lifts a pen, spreads some papers over desk)
JACK: Paperwork? Satan? Dude, you're never getting out of that white coat again, are you? Can't say as I blame you, but I do like to shake it off on at least a daily basis, whether the lab jumpsuit goes with me or not.
WILSON: (Quietly flustered) Just go.
JACK: You've lost it.
WILSON: (Standing) Will you get out of my office before I get Foreman in here to shave your fucking mane.
JACK: (Pleased) Sure thing, Dude. I'm gone.
HOUSE: I came when called.
WILSON: Good boy. Have a malted milk ball.
HOUSE: Can I have two?
(House takes up bowl of malted milk balls and sits on Wilson's couch, shoveling in candies)
WILSON: You've noticed Princeton-Plainsboro and real geography are merging into each other.
HOUSE: And... bringing this up openly right out of the gate means you have something else to hide.
WILSON: That's me, Prince of Lies.
HOUSE: Your least-flattering title. You're bad at it, and lying does not become you. I'll ferret out what you're hiding, however. That's different.
WILSON: Do you know how to let Chase out of his fetters if something happens to me?
HOUSE: Yah. I've done it before.
WILSON: Why am I experiencing no sensation of shock at this pronouncement.
HOUSE: Probably because I'm an annoying busybody who can't leave well enough alone. Also we needed a fourth for bridge.
WILSON: Chase can't play bridge.
HOUSE: I know.
WILSON: House... Think carefully before you answer. In the event of a cataclysmic or even slightly political event inside these walls, what would be your first action?
HOUSE: Stand around staring. No, wait, I'd run real fast. Oh, nope. Wait.
WILSON: Chase is my responsibility. If I pass him on to you, can you do me that service?
HOUSE: Oui, mon capitain. I will let ze 'ound lewse.
WILSON: (Sighs, nods)
HOUSE: You're serious. Really? Chase would be deeply upset if he could hear you right now. In fact, he'll probably be almost as upset when I tell it to him secondhand without asking your permission. I thought he was still in punishment. What'd make you give me a free pass to let him out for a frolic? You know the next time some kid gets the wrong brand of chips out of the vending machine I'll call it a political upheaval and unleash the hounds. Or hound. Or-- what's a partial plural and a partial singular? Hound-slash-zzz.
WILSON: He is most definitely under punishment.
HOUSE: Huh. I figured you'd got over it. I mean. Pff. It's Chase. How can you stay mad at those faces?
WILSON: I can't tell Chase. Chase will worry.
HOUSE: I'll handle all the breaking of bad news at awkward moments parts.
WILSON: Thank you, I think. I need to know... when this happens... will you be on my side?
HOUSE: I dunno. Who will the new guy be?
WILSON: I'm serious.
HOUSE: I'm not sure. Sometimes I think maybe you can't be my friend. I mean, it's not like you're really my boss, but you have me in your control. You have to decide things about me on a professional basis. If that breaks down, how do I know who's left with me?
(Wilson sits on couch with House)
WILSON: Heh. How do I know who's left?
(Long, quiet consideration)
HOUSE: Whatever. Sure.
WILSON: I can count on you.
HOUSE: (Munching malteds) Don't ask me things like that.
WILSON: But you just said--
HOUSE: Geez, Wilson. You're asking me to confirm it. Don't bait my tendencies to negate everything I promise.
(Wilson shrugs. Places a hand over one of House's and when House lets loose of the candy bowl, holds that hand. House slumps sideways, leaning on Wilson's shoulder.)
HOUSE: (Holding up bowl of candy) Malted milk ball?