Eggs and, much to Houses amusement, bacon had always been Wilsons' favorite breakfast. House had learnt that about 9 years ago the first time he had gone out with him for breakfast. At the time Wilsons' breakfast choices only served to amuse him, and often enough feed him, of late however they had become something a little more relevant.

Mainly because he'd been making them in his kitchen every morning.

It had been very odd for him the first time he had woken up to the smell of breakfast. Stacy only made eggs on special occasions, usually opting for a bowl of life or just right. Since she left, his mornings usually consisted of coffee and vicodin, until of course Wilson moved in when it became coffee, vicodin and whatever he could steal of his friends' plate.

After the first week, Wilson started making two plates.

It was the Saturday of the third week and house was sitting in his kitchen drinking a cup of coffee. Another cup rested on the table, a small dab of milk giving it a softer hue than the one he was drinking. He had poured it. He had to have; Wilson had been in the shower. Why he had, he didn't quite understand. He had never in his life poured Wilson a cup of coffee before. Ordered him one in a star bucks (with Wilsons money of course) but never poured him one. But for whatever reason this morning he had reached for two mugs instead of one, he hadn't even noticed he was doing it until he saw the steaming mug on the table. It was so, domestic.

And quite frankly it disturbed him .

Apparently it disturbed Wilson a little two, who walked into the kitchen wrapped in a dark navy housecoat. Houses' dark navy housecoat. Now that, House thought, is domestic.

James blinked a little before picking up the mug and taking a sip. He smiled into the coffee and groped around the fridge for the carton of eggs. He frowned when he couldn't find it and put the mug down to look into the offending appliance.

"That's mine" House said conversationally about his robe. Wilson shrugged not lifting his head out of the fridge.

"Mines at Julies still."

"And that's my problem?" Wilson gave up on finding the carton and reached instead for the milk and the cheerios.

"I'll have it dry cleaned." He sighed and put two bowls on the table.

"You should just buy one. Your going to get mine all, Wilson-y." Wilson raised an eyebrow and swallowed a mouthful of cereal.

"Wilson-y?"

"Next thing you know I'll be holding hands, being nice to my staff, chasing nurses." He grinned. Wilson shot him a withering look at the last comment, but there was a smile tugging his lips.

"Could have the reveres effect, I could become a misanthropic, soap addicted bastard." He grinned. "Or start loosing my hair."

The last comment earned him a cheerio to the head. He laughed and finished his bowl.

"I've got to go see the lawyer today." He loaded both empty dishes into the dishwasher. "The joy of alimony settlements."

"Be grateful you don't have kids." Wilson snorted at that and headed towards the closet were his cloths were hung.

House popped a vicodin and picked up the cross word he'd been working on. Just as he finished 28 across, the Yiddish word for bedbug, Wilson emerged form the bathroom dressed one of his nicer suits. House smirked a bit when he noticed the green tie gracing Wilson's neck. The oncologist was almost out the door when house called to him.

"Ya?" He stuck his head back in the door.

"Pick up some eggs on the way home." House said, turning back to his crossword. Wilson blinked once, then smiled and closed the door behind him.

House waited until he heard Wilsons' sedan pull away before he looked up. He sipped his mug, draining the rest of his coffee.

Now that, he thought silently, was domestic.