Work Text:
House snaps the phone shut and slams down onto the couch. Jimmy tears his overly wide eyes away from the TV and plants them right on House’s face. “You’re mad.”
“Not at you.”
“I know.” Jimmy shakes his head. “At the phone person.”
House crosses his arms and stares intently at the television. Cartoon. Figures. “I can’t stand people who can’t think.”
“What’s ‘can’t stand’ mean?”
House rolls his eyes. Figures that Jimmy’s vocabulary would be especially poor for things that aren’t goodness and light. “‘Can’t stand’ means ‘hate.’“
“Oh, yeah,” Jimmy says, as if it’d been on the tip of his tongue and he’d just forgotten.
The cartoon mouse has just flambéed the cartoon cat’s tail when Jimmy pipes up again. “You don’t hate people who can’t think.”
“I just said –”
“You’re OK with people who can’t think. You hate people who can think but don’t.”
House looks at his feet for a moment, propped up on the coffee table next to Jimmy’s. Jimmy’s feet are the same size as his, might even be a little bigger.
“You’re right.”
“I know,” Jimmy says.