london_spy | House

House

After getting Fin home, Danny had done the same for himself, getting his homework done at last before calling it a night. House's text was what woke him mid-day. ...Apparently he was getting that lunch after all.

Car still in the shop, Danny took the tube into the city proper, meeting Greg in a diner he'd never been to before.

He spotted House in a booth and went to join him, dumping his bag on the seat beside him as he slid into the booth.

"Rough night?" he quipped.

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"Oh, relax," said House. "If you lose I'll pay you back."

Danny still looked unsure, but eventually went and did as House said, returning a while later with a slip of paper he handed Greg.

"Why that one then?" He asked.

I don’t bet on the horses, I bet on the jocks," said House. "That rider’s bulimic; purges after his weigh-ins; leaves a two pound pile at the starting gate, shaves valuable time off that final eighth." Pause. "And the extra motivation of hating the guy who just came in first in the last race doesn't hurt either."

"You're full of shit," Danny laughed. "Come off it, how'd you suss all of that out? You can't tell someone's bulimic by looking at them."

"You a doctor?" House asked. And then added, "Shhhh," as the race started and he stared at the TV.

Danny just smiled and knocked back his beer.

House watched the race... and then grinned when the horse he'd picked one by a nose.

He looked at the odds printed on the slip Danny had brought back. "You just won six hundred dollars," he said.

Danny looked at the slip, then at House. "You won," he pointed out, offering him the slip.

"We could share it," House said. "Imagine all the trouble we could get into with six hundred dollars."

"Oh? And what sort of trouble do you like, Greg?" Danny asked, a tad more seductive than he possibly meant it to sound.

"The kind that costs a lot of money? Strippers and cocaine," House said.

"Or, we take this, and go to Blackpool," Danny suggested.

"Ah, you like cards better than horses?" House said.

"I like the slots," Danny admitted with a smile, not ashamed that he wasn't keen on the more skill based games. "...And crane machines. Love a crane machine."

"Crane machines are the worst odds in the place," House said. "Though they are a feat of dark pattern engineering. But... sure. Let's go to Blackpool."

"Yeah? You'll really go with me?" Danny asked, raising a brow. "It's a fair way out, Greg."

House glanced at his watch. "Oh, I... guess it's kind of silly, isn't it." The truth was, he'd been so ready to just get away. Maybe the weirdness with Wilson was getting to him more than he realized.

Danny deflated slightly, then nodded. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It was a stupid suggestion."

"I'd actually really like to, I just - this isn't a good time for overnight trips." He sighed, and took a swig of the beer.

"It's fine, we'll just split the cash and call it a night," Danny said softly, getting up to cash in the slip.

When Danny got back, House said, "Keep it. We'll go to Blackpool another time."

"Don't," Danny pleaded quietly, handing over half the cash. "It is what it is, alright?"

"We could go," said House, even as he took the cash from him. "We could take the train, hit the slots, get a hotel room..." His voice trailed off. "And I think we both know what would happen."

"I said it's fine," Danny said, getting to his feet and looking hurt. "It's all fine."

Picking up his bag, he looked down at the floor rather than Greg. "I'll get a cab home. You have a good night, alright?"

"Danny - "

But then he stopped, because he didn't know what the hell to say. And Danny was better off without thinking about him anyway. "Yeah," he said, resigned. "Goodnight."

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london_spy - 2020-03-09 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

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