"Dr. House."

Gregory House's eyes shot open, burning from the light pouring in through the windows of exam room three.

"I didn't know you snored," an amused Dr. Cameron said, the tiniest hint of a smirk forming on her lips. She stood by the door, her back pressed against the wall.

"This better be important," he grumbled huskily. "You interrupted my all-important nap." He placed a tired hand over his eyes, willing the darkness to swallow him again.

"We found a case for you."

"If it's the guy with the huge growth on his eyelid, I'm not interested." Cameron shook her head slightly, opening the file she held in her hand.

"34 year-old female came in with a fever of 102.6 and rising. She also has a severe headache and slight delirium."

"Slight?" House snorted, lifting his hand to eye her skeptically. "What, is she seeing purple elephants flying above her?"

"No, but she's been referring to Foreman and Chase as 'Lord and Lady Pomperton.' Bet you can guess which is which." House sat up quickly, keeping his gaze on Cameron.

"How old did you say she was?" House asked seriously, ignoring Cameron's failing attempt at an insult to Chase. Judging by the frown his face had fallen into; Cameron knew she had him hooked.

"34. Birthday is…" Cameron flipped through the pages of the file for the date. "March 3rd, 1972." House ground his teeth in thought before continuing.

"Name?"

"Emily Baden." House's frown etched even deeper into his face.

"Get the team together, we got ourselves a case."

As they entered the conference room, Foreman was busying himself over the coffeemaker, while Chase was chewing on a pen, engrossed in his crossword puzzle.

"He's gonna take it," Cameron said. House stopped just inside the door and glowered at a nearby chair.

"'Lady Pomperton,'" House said, pointing his cane at Chase. "What's the girl's temperature at?" Chase rolled his eyes, and slowly took the pen from his mouth.

"Last time I checked it was up to one-oh-three," Chase replied, his eyes still on the crossword. He stuck the pen back in his mouth, chewing intently. House flicked his eyes over the three doctors, his annoyance growing.

"So, what are you still doing here?" he barked. Chase groaned and dropped the pen and newspaper to the table and made for the door, closely followed by Foreman and a smug looking Cameron. "Don't look so pleased with yourself," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Your ego won't fit through the door." With a final quick glare, he pushed past her towards his office.

House eased himself into the chair behind his desk, searching the mess in front of him for his I-pod. Once it had been located, he placed the headphones over his ears and turned on something soft and soothing. He had just started to think about their newest patient when the office door swung open. House lifted his eyes to meet Wilson's. Sighing heavily, House removed the headphones, delicately setting the I-pod back on the desk.

"Who are you?" Wilson said slowly, sinking into the easy chair opposite House.

"An incredibly brilliant doctor," House replied matter-of-factly.

"You took that girl's case." Wilson fixed his eyes on something below House's head, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"And?" House prompted. Wilson closed his eyes, shaking his head gently.

"She probably just has pneumonia. What is so exciting about pneumonia for the brilliant Doctor Gregory House?" He chanced a look at House, who had taken to bouncing his cane between his knees. "You don't take trivial cases. Not unless Vogler is forcing you. But he's gone…So what is it….Do you know her?" The cane stopped suddenly, and the resulting silence was deafening.

"No," House said finally. He let out a breath, bringing a hand to his eyes. "Not anymore." Wilson's eyes widened at this, but had no time to question, as House's pager started beeping impatiently. Squeezing his eyes tight, House reached for the bit of plastic. He eyed it disinterestedly, the frown returning to his features.

"What is it?"

"I have to go," House said, standing as quickly as he could. He waved his hand at his friend, motioning him to follow. "Come on." Wilson watched House for a few steps before he stood and went after him.

Cameron and Chase stood over the woman, anxious looks plastered on both their faces. Emily's chestnut hair was splayed all over her pillow, her face twisted with pain. She scratched absently at her arm.

"What's wrong?" House asked as he came through the door. Emily forced her eyes open to stare at the visitor.

"Her fever just reached 103.7, and she's got a rash, all over her body," Cameron said worriedly, glancing at House. She reached over to Emily, lifting the blankets to reveal an angry red rash covering her skin. House stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Does it itch?" He asked, remembering her scratching. Emily shrugged slightly, and turned on her side, her back to the doctors.

"She's pretty out of it," Chase half-whispered.

"Did you get an MRI?"

"We can't," Cameron said, opening the file again. "Says here she's got three surgical pins in her skull." House ran his fingers through his hair, smiling softly.

"Well, make her comfortable," he said suddenly, turning to leave. "And find her some damn calamine lotion." He walked past Wilson, who had been watching on in both confusion and amusement. House shot him an intense glare, to which Wilson only held up his hands in surrender.

"I didn't say anything!" He said, the smile on his face not helping his argument any.

"Don't you have a dying person to look after?" House spat. He limped down the hallway, leaving Wilson standing dumbly behind him.

"She has your eyes," he whispered.