James Wilson will pay for lunch. (thestraightman) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-06-19 00:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james wilson, john watson |
Who: James Wilson + John Watson
What: Lunch break at work, chatty things
When: Wednesday afternoon.
Where: Wilson's office.
Rating: PG.
Status: Complete
John Watson was usually a pretty collected sort of guy. But lately, everything was just a little bit overwhelming. He'd signed all the paperwork and loan outfits for his condo, had all the keys, and was more or less ready to move in whenever he wanted. Probably, he should have been packing his stuff. Looking for real furniture, since he owned none of his own.
Instead? He was working random doubles, and on his day off, he found himself hanging out with Amy Pond, listening to 80s pop and going to water parks.
He needed some calming, proper advice in his life. Or at least a lunch break filled with youtube videos of adorable sloths. And he knew exactly where to go to get that.
With two cups of coffee from the cafeteria in hand, he knocked on Wilson's office door.
“Come in!” Wilson was finishing some paperwork, signing his name and doublechecking to make sure everything was correct. He didn’t even look up.
Watson had mastered balancing cups in one hand and opening doors with the other, so no issue there. “Hey,” he greeted upon entering -- holding out his offering of friendship in the way of caffeine.
Seeing his friend made Wilson smile. “Hey,” he replied, accepting the coffee. “Good to see you. What brings you up to my humble office abode?”
“Tired of running into McCoy,” Watson softened the poor humor with a smile even as he plopped down into a seat. “Have you heard him give advice? It’s rubbish. But really, I just wanted to thank you -- for helping out my friend.”
“He’s too smart for his own good,” Wilson winked. He smiled and leaned back, shaking his head. “How’s she doing? She and I are going to have coffee here sometime soon. She sounds sweet.”
“She’s doing alright, considering. She’s moved out -- apparently your lawyer is efficient, she just has to wait on the filing process.” John shrugged, and then scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “She is sweet, Amy. The loveliest of women.” Clearly, he thought the world of her. No one could blame him, he hoped.
“Do you ... you know.” Wilson wondered if his friend maybe had a little crush on her.
“Well. You know,” said Watson, and then he sipped at his coffee in a strange translation of ‘Yes. Is it that obvious?’
Wilson just nodded. “I’d thought that might be why you recommended Percy to her.” Running his fingers through his hair, he smiled to himself, crossed his legs. “Does she know?”
“Maybe,” Watson just looked a bit embarrassed about it. “She’s a clever woman, and I never was exactly good at being subtle.”
“How does she feel about things?” Wilson wasn’t opposed to talking up his friend when he and Miss Pond eventually had coffee. Wilson liked being a wingman. It highlighted his best skills.
“I think she feels a bit weird about it. Because of the -- you know. Divorce. I wouldn’t say she’s uninterested, either, though.” Women were just confusing. He was really trying here. “McCoy told me I should tell her I’m dating someone to see if she gets jealous. Sounded like a terrible and cruel plan, honestly.”
“I wouldn’t do that, no. That does seem mean. But I might tell her about the nurses here who think you’re gorgeous.” Wilson couldn’t help a particularly impish smile.
Watson rose his eyebrows in that expression that he was apparently known for. Don’t ask, he wasn’t amazingly sure about it, himself. “Oh,” he murmured, sounding oddly delighted. “You are very good.”
“It’s not even a fib,” Wilson smirked. “And yes, yes I am.”
Watson had never doubted it. They were, after all, totally friends. Doctor friends. But still. “Don’t judge me,” he warned. “When you see how young she is.” He’d heard Wilson had a young man of his own, but he doubted the rumors somewhat. About the ages, not the having. Jeez.
“How old is she? Percy’s only in his mid twenties. As long as she’s legal, right?” Wilson took another sip of his coffee. “Trust me, I won’t judge.”
"Oh," said Watson. Maybe rumors were right. "Twenty-four? I think? I'm nearly fifteen years older." He didn't look too embarrassed over that one though. McCoy could rib about dating people the age of children he'd never had all he wanted. Adult was adult, damn it.
“Percy’s about that age.” Wilson smiled sheepishly. “He just graduated law school.” It was very obvious from just saying his fiancé’s name that Wilson was stupid over the other man. It would do his heart good to help his friend Watson find someone to feel the same way about.
Well, weren’t these two just so alike? Watson smiled, sipping his coffee as well. “Are you getting married then?” The betting pool had calmed down some, and now Watson was just curious and hopeful for his friend.
“Eventually. I proposed, but it’s probably going to be a long engagement. We’ll figure out dates when he’s ready.” Wilson’s cheeks were a bit pink.
“That’s just adorable. I’m happy for the both of you, in any case.” Aww, he blushed. Gosh. No wonder Wilson was always the water cooler topic; the man was just -- endearing. Somehow.
“Well, thanks. You should come over for dinner sometime, Percy’d love to have you.” Percy wouldn’t mind entertaining at home in a one-on-one setting, Wilson was sure.
“I’d like that,” Watson could use a few more friends that weren’t his current roommates, or the woman he totally wanted to date. “Maybe after I get moved? I suppose that’s something I should be focusing on right now.”
“Mmm, probably. But you could honestly just hire movers or something. Gail down in NICU will tell you where to buy stuff. Have it delivered.” Wilson was a ‘work smarter’ kinda guy.
“You’ve just got it all worked out, haven’t you?” Watson finished up his coffee, and shook his head. “A right savant. I’m taking mental notes, assuredly.” And he kinda was. Not like he enjoyed all the extra work if he didn’t have to do it.
“I’m good at moving. I had to do it cross country, and I certainly wasn’t about to do much of the work myself.” Wilson wrinkled his nose. “I’m a doctor, I’m not really built for lifting sofas.”
“My current flat is furnished -- it’ll be starting fresh for me. All delivery, of course. It’s mostly just the -- well. Now that I think on it, I suppose I don’t own much to move at all.” Wasn’t that just depressing. Also a bit nice, since he had basically no work ahead of him.
“Well, that’ll be convenient. Maybe you won’t even have to hire movers. I can always help if you need an extra car to move things around.” This was probably why people liked Wilson; he was always free and generous with his time.
“No worries, I think. I’ve already got free labor in McCoy and his daughter. It should really be enough for my meager amount of belongings. But if you want to come protest the child labor, feel free.”
“I’ll just stand there, drink coffee, and complain at you. I can be your work wife.” Wilson winked.
Watson snorted at that, standing up and giving a lazy stretch. “Just so long as your husband doesn’t get jealous. Anyway. Best be off. Work, you know.”
“He won’t, and very well.” Wilson held up the coffee. “Thanks for this, by the by.”
“Certainly.” Watson went for the door, grinning to himself. “And thanks for the preemptive good word.”
“Oh, that’s what friends are for,” Wilson beamed.