I do not own House

A/N It's been around two years since I've finished a House story and I am terrified. Please read and review, let me know what you did and did not like about it. This one's comming in chapters.

"He opened up the doors and-and grabbed him. They went west on Terhune."

The air was cold. The building and street reeked from the damp that never seemed to want to lift. Fading fog only amplified the gritty and gray surroundings despite it being late May. The ground glittered with an oily iridescence that seemed to have settled into its own strata over everything. Under a hazy void between two dilapidated buildings and the white noise of traffic, one teenager's words sputtered through at high rate.

Officer Logan Bainbridge stood nearby franticly taking notes. He radioed the call for an Amber Alert to be raised just minutes before, "Now, where did Marshall live? What did he look like?"

Jason pointed behind him while he panted, "He lives two doors away from me," he raised his hand to a fixed position over his own head, "ab- about this tall."

"What did you see again?"

The adolescent wheezed while gesturing wildly under his dark oversized hoodie at the street. He perpetually shifted his weight from foot to foot, "It just happened; one moment Marshall was walking home. Then his huge bald dude reached out of his van-just threw him in and they were gone!"

The officer continued to write as he fired off another question, "What did the van look like?"

"It was grey," the youth sputtered, "b-big and grey."

"Can you tell me anything else about it," as Jason shook his head and the officer forged ahead, "did you see a license plate?"

"No, it happened so fast."

Bainbridge nodded quickly as he quickly finished up his scribble of notes and grabbed his radio from his belt. He fumbled a moment with the setting and lifted it up to report.

Bainbridge barely breathed out his first two words when he heard a noise behind him. It was quick and low; the type of sound that never was a good sign: the thud of a body. He turned around in time to see the youth's body ridged and arched on the sidewalk. His arms fixed straight out in front of himself, hands fisted, eyes starting off blankly at nothing.

The next second, his body went lax and the fit seemed to pass. With no warning, he arched into convulsion again and again as he jerked around in the grass.

Bainbridge wasted no time radioing for an ambulance while he rushed the teenager and rolled him on his side. There, the officer rode out the repeated spasmodic jerks with him as they both waited for medical help to arrive.

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Dr. Gregory House glided through the sliding entrance doors to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with practiced ease. Intuitively, he scanned the clinic faces for an appearance of Cuddy and, unfortunately, found her signing something at the nurse's station. His first strategy was to take the long way around, exit via the elevator, and avoid her completely, but she looked up at him midway through his escape and their eyes met for long enough that House corrected course to her.

He knew he was the reason she was in the lobby. He was already a little late for clinic duty. That was supposed to start an hour into his shift that he was significantly late for. But one well practiced hit on the radio alarm clock this morning brought him well over an hour of extra sleep.

His eyes shifted down to the dress she was wearing. It was a nice dress. Chartreuse was the first color that came to mind, but that wasn't exactly right. Though at 110ยบ proof it didn't sound too bad. It was a stark difference to his disheveled appearance with a black shirt and jeans. And it's presence on the grounds of the hospital, during work hours, was planned. The question was, for whom?

"Is it just me, or is the only thing holding that dress up city ordinance? Who's the desperate man?"

Cuddy chose to ignore the comment and instead waved a folder in front of House, "You've got a case."

The promise or threat of a case deterred House not at all, "If you're dressed this nicely, does that mean he's coming to see you here, or did you get all dressed up for me?"

"Fourteen year old male. Has a history of asthma. According to police, while he was questioned he went into tonic-clonic seizures. Emergency CT scan was cle-"

"Cops know what tonic-clonic is?" House pulled a face, "I'd figure they'd just say it was a grand mal."

"They did, but the point is-"

"He's faking." House interrupted as he took the file from her outreached hand and dropped it on the nurse's countertop.

"And what makes you think that?"

"People will do anything to get away from the hot seat-especially when they have something to hide."

She arched at his callus words, "This one was reporting witnessing the abduction of one of his friends."

"The question is," House said completely over her as he took note of her makeup and perfume, "who are you hiding?"

"And either you take this case," Cuddy continued in a warning tone as she picked up the file and again held it out, "or I'm doubling your clinic hours for the month for coming in late again."

That stopped House. He a paused moment to get another good look at her bright green attire as he reached for the file. "Tell me," he asked, "are you this rough on your boyfriend after giving him a treat like this?"

He left as she dropped jaw and started to protest.