Author's Note: I got inspired to do these after watching way too much House MD in the span of a week. I've written out basic plans for all five, but I'm willing to take suggestions if you have them. These are going to be out of order, chronical wise. I'm writing them up in the order in which I'm most excited about. So, this one won. All one-shots.

Sadly, I don't own House MD.

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Season 2- Stacy

It happened semi-regularly: that Doctor Gregory House had a bad pain day, and still had to come in to work for whatever reason that was important enough to ignore the leg. Most times, House would finish whatever was needed: a case, clinic hours, verbal sparring with Cuddy. Then, he would go to his office, and crash in his office chair. Sometimes with large amounts of Vicodin, alcohol, and the occasional dose of morphine that would knock him out long enough for the pain to dissipate.

This time, House had crashed into his office chair after a long day of catching up on clinic hours that he had missed while he'd been on a grueling case. Cuddy had called him early, not knowing that the pain in his leg had kept him awake all night, and demanded he come in to complete them. Judging from the look on her face, she had realized her mistake the second she'd laid eyes on the diagnostician. However, Cuddy couldn't go back on her demand, as the nurses and other clinic staff knew that Cuddy had demanded House's presence.

House had done the job with mild resistance. He put up a paltry fight, but everyone could see he wasn't into it. His eyes were too glassy, his face too pale, the limp pronounced more than usual. He yelled at stupid clinic patients more than normal, stressing the nurses and Cuddy out. Cuddy eventually let him off half an hour early, told him to go sulk in his office or go home.

House had stumbled into his office, stripping off his jacket and collapsing into the comfortable recliner. He had shut the blinds, and defying the insomnia he battled regularly, fell asleep quickly.

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Stacy stormed her way up to House's office, clutching several files worth of paperwork. The man was so far behind, and it could come back to kick the hospital in the ass later. All in all, it would be better if Stacy could wrangle signatures from the man, and fill in the blanks herself with Cuddy's help. At least then-

As Stacy opened the door, and was suddenly aware of the fact House had jolted awake from her sudden intrusion. A sudden tightness in House's face told Stacy that he was in pain, something he clearly didn't want her to know about.

Stacy placed her free hand on her hip, and examined the man critically. He was paler than usual, and judging from the tightness in his face, the pain in his leg had flared up when he'd jolted.

"How bad is the pain?" Stacy asked simply, clutching the paperwork tighter. The last thing she wanted to do was to drop them.

House groaned, a sarcastic, snarky groan, "I'm not in pain. I'm just upset about the dream you oh so lovingly jolted me out of. I was just getting to the part where Pamela was going to take off her shirt-"

Stacy snorted, "There's no point in hiding, Greg. I stuck around long enough to know when you're in pain."

"I'm always in pain," House's bright blue eyes flashed a warning.

Stacy deflated a little, but didn't let him see it, "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy," House replied dryly, moving so he was sitting up straighter in his chair.

Stacy put the papers on his desk, then turned and crouched so she was face to face with the man, "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," House challenged, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. Definitely a sign that Stacy should leave, that the conversation was over.

Stacy wasn't ready to give up yet. Reaching forward, she put her hand on House's thigh, a simple feather-light touch, "House, it's ok-"

"Don't touch it!" House snarled, teeth bared and eyes sparking with inner fire. Rage or pain, possibly both. House's leg twitched away, allowing Stacy to see the silhouette of the leg when House's pants tightened over the thigh.

It was a watered down glimpse of the wound Stacy still sometimes saw in her nightmares. House sat up straight again, "Get out!"

Stacy, unsure for the first time since starting work at Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital, quickly left the office, the blinds shuttering in response to her quick passing through them.

House, thrown slightly off balance by his previous movement away from Stacy had to catch himself from falling from the recliner. To his dismay, the sudden movement made what was left of his thigh muscles tighten into a series of cramps. Almost biting clean through his lip at the sudden pain, House was immobilized until the cramps eased.

House resigned himself to a long, painful night spent in his recliner. Now, he knew he couldn't drive home, or even walk to Wilson's office, without the leg locking up or worse.

"Damn it, Stacy," House grit through clenched teeth, rubbing his temples with shaking fingers.