A/N: Okay. This is my first piece of "House" FF. Ever. So if anyone is actually going to read and review, please be kind. Unless you believe that my writing is atrocious and the storyline completely inconceivable. But I am totally open to constructive criticism. I'm not a doctor, and I don't play one on TV. Therefore, if there are any medical discrepancies in this story, please feel free to correct me. Most of the terminology I'm using is just stuff I know from my psychology courses, but I have done some research so I don't come off as incompetent.

Also, this is kind of AU. Some time late in season three, I suppose.

And, as a disclaimer, I don't own "House" or its characters. I'd add some witty remark about what would happen if I did, but it's been done so often, I can't even come up with a clever witticism. (Apparently I'm only good at redundancy.)

"Houses Abound in New Jersey"

by phantasmagorical

Chapter 1

"Alzheimer's? In a seven-year-old? No way, House. Do you know how rare that has to be? I don't even think it's possible," Dr. Eric Foreman said in protest to his boss' latest wacky differential.

"Oh, come on, Dr. Foreman! Open your mind, think outside the box," Dr. Gregory House replied in a tone befitting a Life Coach.

"No, Greg. He's right."

House turned around from his dry-erase board, perturbed that someone had used his first name. He dropped his mouth in genuine shock, a move that was very much unlike House. His employees turned around as well, greeting the visitor with suspect looks. "What are you doing here, Gwen? Manhattan not giving you what you need? Have to come and impose on my territory," he inquired.

"Ha! Trust me; New Jersey is the last place I'd rather be. Well, in the Northeast, anyway. They're so darn stuffy down south," newly-named Gwen said in a sarcastic tone similar to that of House's. "Anyway, I came here at the request of somebody we all hold near and dear to our large, swollen, bleeding hearts: Dr. Lisa Cuddy." She turned to House's three fellows and greeted them warmly. "Hi, I'm Gwendolyn House, little sister of that brute over there and the new head of Princeton-Plainsboro's Pediatrics unit." The three doctors looked at her in shock, turning their heads to look at House, who merely shook his head and laughed.

"Let me guess, Cuddy wanted you here to babysit me? What'd she offer you? Large office with a fantastic view of the local dump? An undeserved astronomical salary? Sex," House asked, his gruff voice drenched in sarcasm.

"Oh, Greggy, come now! You know that was only one time," she announced facetiously. "You're still jealous that Cuddy always liked me best? How sad for you." She laughed and said, "Well, I hate to cut this thrilling reunion short, but I have to go decorate my new office. It was nice to meet you all," she said, gesturing to Foreman, Chase and Cameron who were merely staring at Gwen in confusion. And with a wave of her hand and a smile on her face, Gwen sauntered out of House's office and into the hallway, happy that she could still keep up with her older brother.

Back inside the Diagnostic Unit, Dr. Allison Cameron was entirely perplexed. "I thought you were an only child," she asked House. "That's what you told me."

"I lied. It's a little story I like to tell," House retorted.

"Why? To garner sympathy and explain why you're so ridiculously self-centered and immature?"

"I'm very hurt by your words, my dear Allison. I thought you loved me." He pouted petulantly and turned to the dry-erase bored, studying his patient's symptoms.

"…then, why," Cameron persisted.

"Because I like it," he replied monotonously. "Now, our young friend Anna is suffering from Alzheimer's— yay or nay," he asked, changing the subject. No one replied. "I'll take that as a nay."

"Did you force Wilson to up your Vicodin prescription today, House? She can't have Alzheimer's. And even if she did…well, that would be one for the record books" Foreman said dubiously.

"Oh, pish-posh! Didn't you hear? It's not just for elders anymore. It's all the rage on the playground."

"Will you, for once, stop making jokes and start taking things seriously," Foreman yelled, frustration seeping out from his pores.

"Well, gosh, Dr. Foreman, you don't have to be so mean about it," House replied, drying mock tears with his navy blue sports coat. Foreman shook his head in disgust and stormed out of the office.

"Uh…should we…go…after him," Chase asked, bewildered.

"No. Leave him, he'll come back," House soothed. "Now, back to work, you young medical geniuses..."

Foreman was muttering obscenities as he made his way to the cafeteria, or "The Grill," as the hospital liked to call it, furious at House for being so obnoxious and uncaring. As he continued his mental tirade, he was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"Whoa, there, cowboy," the voice joked, piping hot latte in hand.

Foreman looked up, and saw it was House's sister. This time he got a good look at her. She was no shorter than 5'6". Her light brown eyes complemented her chest-length hair of the same color, and it looked as though she had never frowned before in her life. Foreman noted that there was a radiant tone to her smile, which greeted him as he studied her practically perfect features."Sorry, Dr…uh…House. Hm. That feels...weird."

She laughed. "Yeah, but you'll get used to it. You could always just call me Gwen. I don't mind. So what's with the big hurry? Dr. Crankypants need his coffee fix, sent you to do it 'cause he's too damn lazy?"

"I'm assuming you mean that heartless jerk? No, I just couldn't stand being in the same room with him," he spat.

She looked at him in surprise. "Wow. Okay. I'm sensing some, uh…hostility. Hate my brother? It's okay if you do. Everyone does. Maybe because he's so tall and gangly," she said with mock thought.

In spite of himself, Foreman smiled. "Nah, no hate. I just…really dislike him. He turns everything into one large joke. He's never serious, just sarcastic and glib. I've worked with him for three years and I still don't understand him."

Gwen nodded. "Well, I've been related to him for thirty-seven years and I don't get him most of the time, either. Just don't let him get under your skin. I know, 'easier said than done.'" She smiled sympathetically at Foreman. As much as she loved her brother, she knew he never believed the cliché "you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar" to be true. "Look, I've gotta go, but try taking a stroll outside, clear your head, calm down— you'll be okay. I'll see you later...Foreman, right?"

Something in her eyes, perhaps the warm sympathy and compassion, made Foreman believe that everything could work out."Yeah— Eric, actually."

"Great. I'll see you later, Eric."

Foreman watched her walk away, surprised that someone that nice could possibly be related to that manipulative bastard.

After successfully taking a thirty minute walk around the hospital perimeters, Foreman headed back inside, hesitantly making his way back to the conference room. He knew House would most likely make a joke about "a quickie in the janitor's closet," and he was fully prepared to brush it off. As he reached the obscenely large glass door that lead to his usual work area, he breathed in heavily, hoping he wouldn't have to resort to grabbing his boss' cane and whacking him with it. But, no, he could never do that— that was too terribly violent and unfair. Laughing at his own sarcasm, he opened the door and waited for the glares and criticism that were bound to follow.

"Hey, Foreman! Got your sexual healing? Which nurse was it this time? Nurse Rosalie? I heard she digs all kinds of boys," House mockingly questioned.

Foreman merely shook his head and sat down. "Are we still considering Alzheimer's," he asked Cameron, whom he noticed was giving her typical, "are-you-okay-because-I'm-worried" look.

"We still think it could be a possibility," she said with obvious doubt and appeasement, "but we're also considering a severe case of retrograde and anterograde amnesia, and a severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Which, really, is kind of the definition of dementia in a child," House reminded.

Foreman nodded. "That makes sense, though anything makes more sense than Alzheimer's in a child," he said, ignoring House. "But Anna's history shows a clean bill of health: no brain damage or trauma, no illness of any kind."

"Not necessarily," Cameron argued, "We're deeply considering some sort of sexual molestation— most likely accompanied by emotional abuse to boot."

"Right, but we gave her a full body exam when she was admitted because we suspected molestation— no vaginal scarring or sign of penetration at all," Foreman argued.

"But there's always something we could have missed," Cameron said.

"Cameron's right," House announced, earning him a pleasantly surprised look from Cameron. "We're all blundering idiots with medical licenses. Why do they trust us?" House smiled sarcastically at Cameron, who rolled her eyes in return.

Chase, who had remained quiet for most of the day, smirked and said, "Why don't I run a SPECT scan? Maybe Cameron is right. We could have missed something."

"Or maybe she has Alzheimer's!" House yelled.

"House, you know it's near impos-"

"Fine, fine, fine. Chase: go run a SPECT, Cameron: go...hug someone, and Foreman: go take an accurate and thorough family history. We'll reconvene in sixty-two minutes. I need my hourly snort of coke." House limped to his office, grabbing the phone and demanding that Wilson buy him a Reuben—no fries, hold the pickle.

Foreman couldn't help but race out of the conference room.

"Foreman! Wait up," Cameron called.

Foreman stopped and rolled his eyes. "Yeah?"

Cameron winced at his tone. "I just wanted to make sure that you're okay."

"I'm fine, thank you. He just gets to me sometimes."

"I know. But if you ever want to vent or just need to talk...I'm here."

"Thanks. I'll let you know." He smiled and headed towards Anna's room.

Cameron was left with nothing to do, so she decided to do House's clinic hours.

Fifteen minutes after he had been beckoned, Wilson appeared, Reuben in hand. He took a seat across from House. "How much do you owe me, now? I think we're in the trillions."

"Oh, Jimmy, I know that you know that my friendship is payment enough," House replied cheerily.

"You have more wrinkles than usual. What's up," Wilson asked, changing the subject while taking a jab at his friend.

"You'll never guess who the new head of Pediatrics is," House said with feigned excitement, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"They fired Oscar?"

"Suppose so. But, come on, guess!" Another bite.

"House, you just said I'll never be able to guess." House looked up and stared at him blankly. "Oh, fine. Ronald McDonald," Wilson asked.

House grinned triumphantly, "Ha! You're wrong! It's my sister." House noted that the color in Wilson's face drained, and then turned a peculiar shade of red. "I take it you're not happy about this?" He was genuinely surprised, as Wilson and his sister always got along very well.

"No, no. Of course I'm happy. Gwen is a wonderful doctor. I'm just...surprised, that's all," Wilson said, covering for his physical blunder. "I didn't even know Cuddy was thinking of firing Dewdy."

"Ah, Oscar Dewdy. I think he went crazy, actually. Yeah, the kiddies couldn't stop giggling at him when he introduced himself." House did his best impression of a child, "Hee, hee! He said 'doody,' Mommy!"

Wilson laughed. "I'm sure that's why. Besides, I thought Gwen was happy at Mount Sinai?"

"Last I heard, she was. I've gotta get to the bottom of that one, don't I?"

"Of course you do. She's your sister, you should find out if there's anything wrong," he said eagerly.

Too eagerly, House thought. "Nah! That's your job. I just want to spy and look through her files. It'll make Cuddy mad."

Wilson rolled his eyes and got up. "That's great, House. Spy on your own sister," he said incredulously. "Look. I've got a patient in ten minutes. Promise me you'll talk to Gwen." Before House could even open his mouth, Wilson corrected himself. "Nevermind, promises mean jack to you. I'll see you later, House."

"Toodles!" House checked his watch. It was 3:15, and he was missing "General Hospital." He sat in his chair, watching Sonny Corinthos once again break his scotch glass against a wall, and trying to figure out what could possibly bring his sister to PPTH.

About an hour later, Cameron, Chase and Foreman entered the conference room. House grunted and sat up. He walked out into their meeting area.

"So, my darling children, any news on our patient," House asked cheerily. "General Hospital" had ended with a bang...literally. Sonny and Jason were almost killed by Alcazar! (Again!) There were red hues, slow motion action, mob music and everything! It was riveting television.

"Her SPECT was clean," Chase said matter-of-factly.

"Right, just as I thought it would be. Foreman, go do a biopsy," House said with an air of nonchalance.

"What? Why should we perform a biopsy? That's unnecessary and dangerous, House," he replied.

"Because we need to know if she's got Alzheimer's. I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't want to wait until post-mortem to find out that I was right," House said smugly.

Foreman put his hands up, as if he were surrendering. "I give up. You guys wanna give it try?"

Cameron and Chase looked at each other, unsure of how to approach their boss. He was getting out of hand, and they weren't sure how to handle him. If they refused, there was a major possibility that House would find a way to do the biopsy on his own. If they agreed, they could be potentially killing a child.

Cameron spoke first. "I don't think it's a good idea. A biopsy is dangerous on an adult. But a child? House, she's so young. Her brain is still going through major developments. A biopsy could leave her brain dead," she said quietly.

"Coward." He looked at Chase. "Chase is my girl. What do you say?"

Chase scowled. "I agree with Cameron," he said defiantly.

"Of course you do, you lovesick puppy." He grabbed Anna's file, turned to his white board and sighed. He erased all of the original symptoms. "Since you're all a bunch of morons, we're starting over. Give me all of her symptoms again and we'll go from there. No interruptions."

"Except one," Gwen House said. "Good afternoon, everyone."

"What do you want, Gwen," House asked, agitated.

"Nice to see you, too. But don't worry about the symptoms— Cuddy gave it to me, anyway," she announced.

House smiled. "Of course she did. All right, take 'er. But don't come crying to big brother when you can't figure out what her problem is."

She walked over to her brother to grab the file. "The file, please."

House looked confused. "The file? But, why?" Gwen glared. "Oh! ...OH! You mean Cuddy gave you this case? I thought you just had a romantic rendezvous in the supply closet. Silly me. Here, take it," he said, shoving the file in her face.

Gwen rolled her eyes and turned to House's employees. "I think I'm going to nominate the three of you for 'Doctors of the Year.'" She turned back to House. "Thanks for the file, and enjoy your evenings." She turned and left, a small smile of satisfaction coming to her face.

"You're dismissed," House said, gesturing for Cameron, Chase and Foreman to leave.

"You're just going to let her swoop in and steal your case," Cameron asked in disbelief.

"Cuddy's orders," House stated simply.

"Since when do you listen to Cuddy," she retorted.

"I always listen to Mama Bear," House quipped. "See ya later, ladies." He turned on his cane and headed towards his office. He turned the lights off and relaxed in his chair.

Foreman stood up and shrugged, walking over to the kitchen area to make some coffee.

"Why aren't either of you upset about this," Cameron asked in a huff. "How unfair is it that she's here for one day, and Cuddy immediately gives her this case? I mean, isn't there something we could-"

"Cameron. It's one case. No big deal," Foreman laughed, attempting to get Cameron off her soapbox.

"How can you say that? We have no idea what's wrong with that girl. She could be dead by midnight."

"Or she could be treated properly by a sane doctor," Chase broke in, hoping to calm Cameron down.

She sighed and stewed for a minute. "You're right," she said, rubbing her temples. "I suppose she's in good hands. Dr. House... House's sister can't be too bad."

"Actually, she's the best pediatrician on the East Coast," Foreman chimed in.

"How would you know," Chase asked.

"I looked her up online," He said. "She's highly renowned. Knows her stuff. I guess genius runs in the family."

"Yeah, but let's hope that this genius doesn't come hand in hand with egomaniacal bastardry," Chase replied.

The three laughed and moved on from the incident. House heard the laughter, wishing he could hit the three of them over the head with his cane to make them shut the hell up. He needed to recoil from his day. He massaged his bad leg, slightly easing the cramp that was beginning to form. He couldn't wait to go home.

A/N: Dr. Dewdy was actually the name of my pediatrician many years ago. No, I'm not kidding. I laughed. Not in his face, but I was inwardly cracking up. ...I was six.