A/N Kind of the typical episode of House. I, of course, don't own any of this. But maybe I'll get hired to be one of their writers?

ooo

House was scribbling at the white board while the team sat at the table in dejection. He wore a look of concern on his face.

"These symptoms, they just don't make sense!" cried Chase.

House studied what he had just written. "Maybe we're not looking at symptoms, maybe we're looking at something else. What were the test results?" He turned to the others.

"Negative," said Foreman.

"And the tox screen?"

"He's clean for everything," Foreman said.

Chase spoke up, "Maybe it's something genetic, we could start screening him for -"

Cameron cut him off. "We can't. One more needle poke and his liver is going to go into shock. And besides, there's just no time."

"What about his kids? We could screen them," suggested Foreman.

Cameron shook her head sadly. "The mother has already ruled them off limits. She's crazy."

"If she's a whack job, we'll get custody and test them anyway," said House.

"Won't work either. The family is incredibly wealthy and has a crack team of lawyers. We'll be tied up for weeks."

House groaned. "At the rate this guy is going, he's not going to have days, let alone weeks."

He studied the board for a long time while the others made useless suggestions. House sighed. "Run the tests again."

"What?!" said Chase.

"You were right, they don't make sense. You screwed the test up!" snapped House at Chase.

"There's no way! I never mess the tests up. There is no human error," Chase defended himself.

"Run them again!" shouted House. He stormed out of the conference room and down the hallway. Cameron was right behind him.

"House! We need to talk about the event that happened last week."

"Talk this, talk that, I'm tired of talking Cameron. Keep your emotions to yourself, I don't care what you have to say."

"This is important!" implored Cameron.

"So is doing our jobs! So is saving the patient!"

"You don't care about the patient!" shouted Cameron back at him. "All you care about is solving your puzzle. You don't care who you have to hurt to do it!"

House glared at her, and then entered Wilson's office, slamming the door behind him.

Wilson looked up from his desk. "Strange, usually you slam the door when leaving my office, not entering it."

"Wilson, we need to talk."

Wilson pushed the file away from him. "House you're here for one of three reasons. You either want to manipulate me, get sympathy from me for that thing that happened last week, or you want to steal my lunch. And since it's three in the afternoon, and I've already eaten, I can rule out that last one."

"Wilson, you don't understand, it's gotten to them, Chase is making mistakes, he's -"

"House, you're an adult. Figure out how to fix this mess on your own. I've got too much to do right now to get dragged into another melodrama." Wilson returned to his file.

"Oh yeah, right, I forgot. It's that time of month where you get divorced again and have a fling with one of your patients. Didn't mean to interrupt your busy schedule."

"Dammit House! Fine," Wilson pulled out his prescription pad and scribbled all over it. He tore off the page and handed it to House. "Here, get yourself some more Viocadin."

House snatched the paper from Wilson's hand and then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He made his way down to the first floor and got the pills. He took one and when he looked down there stood Cuddy.

"House! If you don't do more clinic hours, I'll, I'll," Cuddy looked fit to burst.

"You'll stutter at me, and wear low cut blouses so I can get an excellent view of your funbags?" suggested House.

"Arrgh!" cried Cuddy. "That's the final straw. 50 clinic hours this week, or I'm taking away your parking spot!"

"Oh no, not my parking spot," pantomimed House sarcastically. "When you're done wasting my time, let me know, because there's a patient that needs saving." House stormed off to the elevator as fast as he could hobble.

He went up to his office, shut the door and turned on some music. If only he could figure out the secret to this disease. He took another pill and threw his ball up into the air. Cameron burst into his office.

"I won't take no for an answer this time! I, ouch!" Cameron tripped and fell to the floor.

House stood from his chair. "What happened?"

"I tripped, and I think I chipped a nail."

House's eyes glazed over. "Of course," he mumbled and hurried out of the room. A very confused Cameron chased after him. He went all the way up to the patient's room and threw the door open. Chase and Foreman looked very surprised.

"Stop doing tests you morons!" shouted House.

"But you," protested Chase.

House didn't even acknowledge him. "Get this man on the cure for tetanus right now!"

"What!?" said everyone in unison.

House lifted up the sheets and yanked out the patient's foot. There was a cut in it. Foreman and Chase exchanged glances and then immediately began the treatment for tetanus.

ooo

The next day the patient was recovering well. His family was around his bed. House looked over the charts. "It looks like you'll be fine in a few days," he said.

"Dr. House, I can't thank you enough. I know you yelled at my wife the other day and scared her half to death, but I want you to know how much I -"

House groaned and shook his head. "How about the next time we ask you questions about your condition, you don't lie to us."

The man looked downcast. "I couldn't live with the shame. If everyone knew I had just stepped on a nail ..." his voice trailed off.

"Your vanity almost got you killed." He turned to the kids. "Learn from daddy's mistake, you brats, I want to know that stupidity isn't hereditary."

He left the hospital and drove home. There he contemplated for awhile, fixed himself a meal, watched bad TV, and then played the piano for an hour.