Author's note: Second attempt - hopefully it's good and the OCs don't come across as too cliched! Oh and it's set somewhere towards the end of Season 3 (I haven't watched Season 4 yet - can you believe that? Anyway enjoy this little piece! And PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU LIKE IT!!!

Chapter 1: Shades of Cuddy

"Gimme a large Reuben and add on lots of that one, and thaaat one, oh and extra mustard please," said House as he pointed out the toppings to the expressionless cafeteria lady. Wilson, who stood in front him in the lunch queue, stared wistfully at the amount of bacon and cheese and whatnots that were being heaped onto the slices of bread. And who will be paying for all that?

House cocked his head in Wilson's direction. "Put it on his tab."

Ah but of course. Wilson managed a tight smile as he took the plate from the cafeteria lady and placed it on his tray. As they inched along the queue, he said deliberately aloud, "When will Dr.Gregory House ever be able to pay for his own lunch, I wonder?"

"Ssssh!" hissed House, his eyes darting about. "People will think I'm homeless."

"Then stop acting like one. Homeless. Man, I mean." He paid for both meals anyway and they seated themselves at a table.

"On the bright side, though," said House as he took a bite out of his sandwich. "At least I'm not nicking itsy cherry tomatoes out of your bitsy salad."

Wilson looked at his salad plate. True, it looked pretty miserable with wilted greens, tiny cherry tomatoes and slightly blackish onion rings, but it was the healthiest thing the cafeteria served. "Whatever, House. Whatever."

"That, is the motto of a loser."

"So by taking up a pointless argument with you which would only lead to an insignificant conclusion and extreme emotional dissatisfaction on my part I am upgrading my status from Loser to…?"

"Well not Champ, of course. That's my seat," replied House with a smirk.

Wilson scoffed. "What you really need, House, is a woman."

"Well not that woman for sure," House jabbed his cane at a direction and Wilson turned to look. Cuddy had just stalked into the cafeteria and was heading straight for – them. The look on her face was livid.

"Put the damn cane down, House," she hissed as she threw a stack of papers bound loosely in a paper file on the table with such force that their plates jumped. "Why the hell did you take Bill Pepper off the Alprazolam?"

He opened the first page and peered at it. Then he looked back up at Cuddy, with his eyes wider than usual. "My God! What have you done to your hair? It looks exceptional."

"Nothing but - " said Cuddy, flustered and almost breaking into a smile before she caught herself in time. "But we're talking about taking Bill Pepper's anxiety meds without my permission!"

"Who are you, his mom?"

"He's a hospital board sponsor, for God's sake! He took 50K off Pathology when a lab assistant spilled orange juice over his pants and I won't let him take anything away from our Diagnostics fund. Who knows when you'll be wrecking the MRI machine again?"

House looked at his watch. "3.30pm today. I'll get two of my lackeys to do it. You can expect Cameron 'cos she was the mastermind of the last one."

Cuddy's face was stone cold. "You will ask your lackeys to put Bill Pepper back on the Alprazolam."

"He's not clinically depressed or anxious, he's a hypochondriac. He doesn't need the meds. And it's interfering with our test results."

"He couldn't sleep last night and do you want to know why? He stayed up all night worrying if his breakfast would contain toasted bun with sesame seeds or wholemeal bun with banana slices!" She practically bit off his head.

House fixed a meek smile on his face. The sheer incredulity of his reaction drove Wilson to shake his head in disbelief. "He's fine," he repeated slowly.

Cuddy threw him a death glare. "I'm ordering a psychiatric evaluation." She stalked out of the cafeteria, her skirt swishing furiously at her knees. House leaned out of his seat, peering at her legs. "Wow, did you see how short her skirt was? Is that even allowed in a hospital cafeteria?"

"House," said Wilson in a final tone.

"I'm not giving him his happy pills," replied House, sitting back up. He made a face at Wilson. "And you can't make me."

"Oh grow up, House," said Wilson. "Or, better still, get a girlfriend."

"Why don't you get one for me? Make it a quest, or something." He grabbed his cane and got up from his chair.

"Wait a minute. You're not going to even finish the sandwich? The sandwich I paid for?"

"You need the rasher fat more than I do. See, I'm doing charity here. Aren'tcha proud of me?" And with that he limped away, leaving Wilson flustered.

However, by the time House reached Bill Pepper's room, Cuddy had sent her men in. Or to be more exact, a female. He could hear her voice from outside the room, and there he perched and eavesdropped.

"Can you recall when the medication was stopped?" Sharp, clipped, slightly husky. A bit like Cuddy and he hated it. A Cuddler. He peeked through the blinds and saw her seated at the foot of the bed, legs crossed and sensibly dressed in a no-nonsense combo of blazer with white collars and sleeves peeking out and well-cut black pants. Okay, not as fancy, but she sounded just as bad.

"Yesterday evening, I think… some guy with a cane and scruffy clothes came and took it from me."

"How did you feel when they were taken from you?"

"I panicked, of course! I couldn't – I need them! Do you have them? Maybe in your pocket you're not hiding them are you?"

"I'm not, Mr. Pepper. I'm just here to ask you some questions regarding your medication. Have you – "

House had had enough. He slid the door open and strode casually into the room, or as casually as his cane let him. "Hi. Were you by any chance sent by a scowling woman wearing an extremely low cut blouse today?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "I don't know about the blouse but she sounded angry."

"That's him!" shouted Bill Pepper, pointing at House with wide eyes and a trembling finger. "That's the cad who took them! My pills!"

"I took them because you don't need them. Even if you have real things to worry about, they're getting in my way."

The woman got to her feet. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

"I'm a doctor. Who the hell are you?"

"Name and ID card?" she demanded, folding her arms.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I am a doctor."

"Yeah, trust anyone who doesn't wear a lab coat to be a doctor."

"You show me yours and I show you mine."

With a scowl on her face strangely reminiscent of Cuddy yet seemed to originate from a completely different league, she almost yanked her ID out of her trouser pocket. House arched an eyebrow. A woman without a purse. She clipped the tag onto the lapel of her blazer and held out a hand. "Dr. Hesper Wade." Her face though was anything but friendly.

"And I'm lemonade," he quipped.

"I'm perfectly serious!" She dropped her hand.

He nudged his chin in Bill Pepper's direction. "Leave my patient alone."

"I won't until I find out what this is all about." She rested a defiant arm on the edge of the bed. "And if you're his doctor, why is it Dr. Cuddy who ordered this evaluation?"

"What evaluation?" blurted Bill Pepper, his eyes as round as china plates.

House seized his chance with gleeful malice. "A psychiatric evaluation. She's a shrink!"

"But you said you were a – "

"If I had told you that I was a psychiatrist," she replied pointedly back at Bill Pepper, "you wouldn't have co-operated."

"Everybody lies," he whispered conspiratorially at him.

She stared at him. "For the last time, who the hell are you?"

"People call me 'manipulative bastard' and 'arrogant jerk' but you can call me 'the sadist with the cane'," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Bill Pepper suddenly jabbed a startled finger at him. "House! You're Gregory House!"

"Ssssh!" he hissed back at him. "You just gave away my secret identity!"

She grabbed his arm and muttered rapidly at him, "We're settling this outside." She glared back at Bill Pepper, all pleasantries evaporated for the moment. "Stay here."

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