Dr. James Wilson knew the very second he walked through the doors of PPTH that it was going to be a different kind of day. First off, the lobby was dead silent when he entered. Silent enough that if someone had dropped a pin he was certain he would have heard it clear as a bell. Secondly, he could see House through the large glass windows that separated the lobby from the clinic and it appeared as if his cantankerous best friend was actually being pleasant to a patient. Something was most definitely ... off today. Wilson decided it was most likely in his best interest to head for the elevators and his office to enjoy this uncharacteristically nice day before it turned itself around for good. In doing so, however, he failed to see what had House in such a good mood.

Inside the clinic, House's sarcasm was still on high alert, as always, however the mood of the place was certainly lifting considering the waiting room was almost empty. And of the three cases he'd been forced to take that morning, two had been "prescribe and go's". This left him with plenty of time to exchange snarky, flirty, witticisms with the busty new receptionist. At the moment, as he was "listening" to his final patient describe his mundane flu symptoms he was trying to scientifically deduce her bra size. He was debating between a high C and a low D when a new body entered through the large glass double doors. Perfect, another patient to keep him away from the pressing task at hand. A second glance, however, revealed a pair of sensible low heeled shoes, a freshly pressed suit skirt, and most importantly a white lab coat and clipboard. House felt an intrigued smirk pass over his face as the new arrival nervously made her way across the room to his side, holding out her petite hand awkwardly. He stared at it for a long moment, his nose wrinkling as if he was afraid of contracting the bird flu from her touch, before turning to take her in, both his hands still tucked deep in his trouser pockets. She dropped her hand, clearing her throat anxiously as she forced her shaggy bangs out of her eyes.

"Erm...Doctor House?" It looked as if she'd nearly vomited as she'd forced the words out. She was scared of him. Her obvious terror of his presence was like a wave of pleasure crashing on the beaches of his ego and House let his interior grin sneak outward, smirking once more at her. She gulped. "Um...I'm...Evelyn Shepherd, Sir." She had a faint accent, House noted as she spoke again. Welsh, perhaps? He couldn't quite pinpoint it over her blatant stutter. "I'm...Dr. Cuddy...well.." She tripped over her words painfully, her eyes wide as a deer's in headlights. House took this time to give her a good once over. She was short, and her lack of a good pair of heels wasn't helping her in that department. She barely reached his shoulder and was forced to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He was unsure how she managed to see him, however, behind her dark, wild, choppy bangs. The rest of her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Everything about her was boring, non-descript. House was starting to lose interest in this conversation already and it had only barely started.

"Did Cuddlefish send you to me so I could cure you of your verbal dyslexia?" he theorized sarcastically, sliding the chart he'd been holding into a slot by one of the exam rooms, jerking his head at the patient in front of him to get inside. The girl shook her head nervously and smoothed her bangs again.

"I'm..." She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm her quaking nerves. She was starting to wear on House's patience. "I'm a transfer from BIDMC... Dr. Cuddy said you'd probably want to see me?"

"Beth Israel..." House mused. "So you're Harvard material." It was a statement, not a question but she still nodded her head violently in response.

"Yes, Sir." Another deep breath, this one slightly steadier. "I did my premed study at Cambridge and then attended Harvard for Med School." She looked at him hopefully, as if her credentials would impress him as they'd no doubt impressed her new boss. This girl had a lot to learn about the world according to Dr. Gregory House. He widened his eyes at her dramatically.

"Wow! And let me guess! Mommy or Daddums graduated from both schools before you." Her face fell.

"Well...well, yes. But..."

"I don't know what made Cuddy send you to me, and I really don't care. Unless you're planning on taking over my shift down here I think this chat is finished." She winced as he turned away, but she still plucked up the courage to speak up one last time.

"She said you would say that. And she said if you did to tell you I diagnosed a case of Primary Neuroendocrine Calcinoma of the liver."

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't a difficult diagnosis for your Harvard trained attending." He spat the name out with disdain.

"I diagnosed it on my own." Her voice was low. She wasn't expecting this to impress him.

"Lucky guess." House was still ignoring her, opting instead to doodle an overly characterized version of the receptionist, paying special attention to the shading around her breasts. Evelyn huffed and flipped her messy ponytail over her shoulder indignantly.

"I treated it without my supervisors approval. So I'd say I was pretty goddamned positive..."

"And when was this? Six months ago? You don't need an attending to hold your hand anymore..." House turned to walk away and her face screwed up in anger. He felt a twinge of pleasure in his chest when he realized he'd struck a nerve.

"It was during my first year of internship." She spat. House stopped, turning back towards her. He gave her a good once over before holding out his hand, palm up. She stared at it, confused. Did he want to shake her hand now?

"Your credentials..." He said slowly, enunciating as if he was talking to a small child. "I assume you have them?" Her eyes widened in understanding and a twinge of shock and she fumbled with the manila folder she'd had holstered under her arm. He nodded once and disappeared into the exam room, leaving Evelyn bewildered.

It seemed that as soon as House disappeared, Dr. Cuddy was at her side, patting her shoulder. "Congratulations. You've just survived your first close encounter with the House kind."