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"Do you want to get married?"
House looks up from the fry he's currently stealing from Wilson's shitty cafeteria plate. He shrugs. "What, now? Because my patient is still dying, and I'm probably gonna have to spend the night here—"
"No, you ass. Just— someday. Soon. It's legal now."
House pops the fry in his mouth and hums. "I think I'm still legally married to Dominika."
"Of course you are," Wilson sighs, smiling and shaking his head.
"Guess it's my turn for a divorce."
"Good. Then, after..?"
"Sure. Just don't do anything fancy. I want a good ol' fashioned courthouse wedding."
"How romantic."
"I'm also throwing us a bachelor party."
"No. You are not."
House grins, "I've been planning this since you professed your undying love to me. There's no way you're getting out of this one."
"Nevermind. I'm breaking up with you."
"Good. You didn't even buy me a ring. I deserve better." He's cut off by his pager beeping, and he groans. "I told them to hold off on the penicillin," he stands, stealing one last bite of Wilson's sandwich. "Gotta go save lives or whatever. You better have a ring for me when I get back home."