Ray sets the cups of tea on the table. House, still reading her notes, gives her a nod and a thank you. The silence stretches.
“You mentioned your role in Pastel's death.” House sent a meaningful look at Ray.
“I told Fleur last week. It… it was time. She was ready to hear it, and she understood, I think.” Her fingers trace the patterns on her cup.
“Did you ask Selene- or whatever it is she's calling herself now- if she thought Fleur was ready?”
“No. But I know people too.”
“If you say so.” House closes the tightly bound notes and slides them back across the table. “I think they're better now. Less biased, includes more of the gritty details and unpleasant truths you like to avoid. Of course, I don't all of the things you could be glossing over, but you seem to have gotten better at it.”
“So! How's the diplomacy going?”
“…I look forward to our joint venture.” Starchild smiles, and saunters off stage.Ray faces the audience and begins to sing.
“What is this feeling that I feel?
For this woman that I tried to kill
This started as a distraction,
and now it is becoming an attraction…\\
-Starchild, the Musical