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A female voice rang out from the intercom system wired throughout the entire hospital.

"Would Doctor Gregory House please report to the office of Doctor Lisa Cuddy immediately." Though the question was phrased as a simple request, anyone with a working history of the hospital knew the sentence was anything but a request.

"You're not going to go, are you?"

"Do I ever?" Inside the free clinic section of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, the section where every doctor, regardless of rank or experience, was required to put in a predetermined number of hours every week, sat two seasoned veterans of the medical profession. The stark difference between them and every other doctor currently putting in work at the clinic that these two doctors were huddled around not a sick patient but the tiny screen of a portable television.

"It could be important."

"As important as Sonny and Emily's relationship? I doubt it."

"They can say many things about you, Greg, but none can say that you don't have your priorities straight." His friend James Wilson mused, producing a little more than an irritated grunt from the hunched form of Dr. Gregory House, more intent to focus on the rapidly-moving plot of his favorite soap opera than whatever his boss had to say to him.

"Either I'm being sued by some idiot patient, I need to do more clinic hours, or she just found out about something I did behind her back. And of those three subjects, a grand total of none of them interest me in the slightest."

"Eventually you're going to run into her."

"Eventually I'm going to be able to watch General Hospital with you in silence, too." The abrupt tone in House's voice was a signal that, at least in his eyes, the conversation was over. Wilson merely signed and rested his forearm on his thigh, staring at the flickering screen of the television but making no effort to pay any attention to the rapidly moving plot of the soap playing before him. He had begun to devote more and more time to attempting to erode the high wall that House had begun to build upon with rapidity ever since Stacy's departure from the hospital. House had never been one to wear any of his emotions on his sleeve, instead using the masks of the tortured genius and the wronged man as a free pass for the most antisocial behavior he could muster. As the ending credits began to flow across the screen, Greg abruptly flicked the lilliputian electronic device off and folded the antenna behind the screen. He made no effort to stand up, however, seemingly more content to continue reposing upon the soft plastic of the examination table. Wilson, on the other hand, was up before his friend was able to tuck the miniature television into the pocket of his sport coat.

"I take it you're going to remain here until you've completed clinic for the day." Wilson stated. House bent and extended his right arm, checking the fine silver watch that wrapped around his wrist and arched his eyebrows in slight surprise.

"Actually, I'm caught up for the day." He replied, standing up in his own unique way, slanted to the side of his cane, but still upright enough to command attention. "I just need to get out without alerting the dungeon keeper." He stared at Wilson and cocked his head towards the cream-colored door of the examination room.

"You want me to go out and check for Cuddy?" Wilson asked, incredulous despite his long acquaintanceship with the diagnostician.

"Thanks, that'd be great." Wilson wanted to protest, but instead settled for an eye roll and made his way out the door and into the expansive waiting room beyond. After the time span of several seconds, Wilson returned to the original room, a bemused look on his face. He spoke in an exaggerated whisper.

"If you run, I think you just might be able to make it. But hurry, they've got every cop in the state hot on your tail." A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips despite himself.

"Cute. Don't you have a naive nurse somewhere to hit on?" House threw the insult over his shoulder as he limped out of the exam room at a speed belying his handicap. Unfortunately, his misplaced interest led him to walk directly into the form of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of the hospital and the woman House was doing his best to avoid. She stood steadfast, with her lips pursed into a thin pucker and her eyes narrowed into slits so tiny one would assume she had them completely closed until they witnessed the trenchant daggers shooting from her eyes. Her arms were folded over her chest and the only movement she made was the constant tapping of her left high-heeled shoe. House stopped just in front of her stoic form, too startled to even make the weakest of comments at first.

"When I request you in my office immediately, do you assume immediately means whenever you feel like it?"

"No, I'm well aware of your meaning, I just like seeing you push your breasts up when you're angry." Said House with an hyperbolic leer.

"The only reason I don't keep you in this clinic for the rest of the day is because you have two urgent visitors in my office. If I were you, I'd be sure to thank them." Her tone was calm and unaffectionate, a tone that made clear even to Dr. House that this was not the time to make jokes

"Before we go any further, is this going to be a two-Vicoden or a three-Vicoden conversation?" House asked, pulling the diminutive translucent orange prescription bottle out of another pocket of his coat.

"Shut up and get in my office." Cuddy directed in a louder voice than she had intended, drawing the stares of several of the patients waiting to see a doctor. Her anger at House grew larger, if such a thing was possible. If she had been anywhere but in the hospital she had been put in charge of, she would have given serious consideration to slapping House across his unshaven cheek.

"Definitely three Vicoden." House commented as he shook out three small white pills into his palm and crunched them between his teeth, releasing the powerful painkiller into his system. He turned and followed the fast retreating form of Cuddy towards the clear glass double doors that led to her office, but not before throwing one last insult over his shoulder, this time directed at Wilson.

"How much is she paying you, Mr. Arnold?"

"Beyond my paycheck, nothing. I just didn't feel like devoting the rest of my day to hiding you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go treat some patients. You remember, the reason we work here." House either didn't her him or didn't care enough to respond, as he pushed his limping form through the doors Cuddy had so recently passed through without so much as a responsive grunt

There were very few times in life House ever found himself truly speechless. There had been times, few and far between, that he had been at a loss for a particular description of a disease or a symptom, but he had never been at a consummate loss for any word in his expansive vernacular. However, someone had once said that there was a first time for everything, and the time for speechlessness had apparently arrived. Cuddy's office was the largest of all the offices in the building, yet House could only concentrate on one thing in the whole room, and that was the hulking blue form that stood off to the right side near two rich leather chairs, his colossal size being the obvious reason why he choose to stand rather than sit. Cuddy had adjusted much easier, already sitting behind the oak desk that sat like a humble alter below the wide curtained window on the polar wall from the double wood doors, paneled with glass as further testament to the hospital's unspoken hatred of any semblance of privacy.

"Good afternoon Doctor House, thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

"Well, you know me, I always make time for...whatever the hell you are." House responded, earning a death glare from his boss.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize me; I am cognizant of the fact I have changed my appearance slightly. I am Doctor Henry Philip McCoy, and my companion you see here is my generous benefactor and friend, Professor Charles Francis Xavier." Both men extended their arms in an attempt to shake House's hand. House, however, ignored both men and collapsed on the couch opposite them with an overstated sigh and began to tap his cane on the carpeted floor of Cuddy's office.

"Wonderful greeting, Dr. House. Are you completely incapable of human interaction?" Cuddy asked, too exasperated over the behavior of her employee in the past ten minutes to worry about how it looked to reprimand him in front of distinguished visitors. Hank held up a hand in towards Cuddy.

"Please relax, Doctor Cuddy. I am well acquainted with Doctor House's particular behavioral peculiarities, and as such I have prepared Professor Xavier for this as well." Cuddy let out her own exasperated sigh to match House's previous one, but said nothing further. She returned to her seat and yielded the conversation to Dr. McCoy's control. However, as Hank began to speak, House interrupted the intended speech as a sudden realization hit him.

"Dr. McCoy! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with the new fur coat. Certainly a bit out of style, but then you were never a style-conscious person, were you?"

"A mere result of a miscalculation in my personal mutant gene suppression serum. I dare say I've gotten used to the extra warmth since its first appearance."

"I'm so happy for you. Now are you going to tell me why you came here?"

"Certainly. One of the students at the school I am currently employed by, run by Professor Xavier, has recently come down with a most peculiar disease. It presented itself right after she was admitted to our medical bay with a Urinary Tract Infection-"

"You called me in for a Urinary Tract Infection?" House directed his incredulous query towards Dr. Cuddy, but it was obvious he was miffed at everyone in the room.

"House, shut up or you'll work double clinic hours for a month!" Cuddy snapped, obviously feeling both heated anger at the misbehaving doctor under her command, and heated embarrassment towards not only having to argue with but threaten a doctor in front of such important visitors. Everyone in the room, including the usually calm and collected Charles Xavier, recoiled a slight bit at the sound of Cuddy's venting ire. Noticing the reaction she was receiving after glaring at House for several uninterrupted seconds, she exhaled a long breath and turned to face Henry.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Please continue; I can assure you there will be no more interruptions." Cuddy said in the most diplomatic tone she could muster given the current atmosphere in the room, however she still directed the last part of her sentence towards Dr. House rather than Dr. McCoy.

"It's no problem, I can assure you. As I was saying beforehand, one of our students recently suffered a particularly severe UTI. After I treated the infection, however, our charge displayed severe Transcortical Motor Aphasia and uncontrollable rage before suffering a massive seizure. In the past week, she has also displayed an apparent loss of thermoregulation. I've run just about every test I am currently aware of with the equipment provided at the mansion, however I have yet to come anywhere near an answer as to what our dear Rogue has come down with." House barely waited for the words to cease their eloquent travel from Henry's maw before responding in his own uniquely brusque fashion.

"Congratulations, whatsername is on drugs. From what you've described, I'd say she's discovered the magical delights that can only come from PCP and amphetamines, most likely low-grade."

"I've run tests for every recreational drug that is currently on the market. No positive results." House's face fell slightly, however he remained undaunted.

"STD?" At this guess, Henry and Charles exchanged nervous glances and hemmed and hawed for several seconds before Charles finally spoke up, bringing the tips of his fingers together in a framework triangle and leaning back into his chair.

"Rogue's specific mutation manifested itself through her skin. Specifically, she absorbs people's memories, powers, and even their very life force if the contact is prolonged enough. I have attempted to help her gain control of her gift numerous times, however every attempt has met with failure." House's face contorted into a mask of thought at the sound of the British telepath's words.

"So no drugs and no STD's. No chance this girl absorbed a couple of Hell's Angels, is there?"

"None whatsoever." Charles responded, either choosing to ignore the bleak humor in House's statement or missing it completely.

"Okay then. Cuddy will have one of the nurses check her in, and I'll go round up the usual gang of idiots." Before House could so much as move his cane, however, Cuddy spoke up, freezing him in his tracks.

"She was checked in forty-five minutes ago. She's in the second floor ICU."

"You checked her in before coming to find me? What's the matter Cuddy; you don't trust me?"

"Why Dr. House, I trust you almost as much as a mouse trusts a starving cat." replied Cuddy in a greatly exaggerated and sickly sweet voice.

"Fine, I'm going. Second floor you said?"

"Wait, you're going to visit a patient?"

"No, but Cameron gets annoyed whenever I send her to the wrong room, and she makes the coffee." House said as he grabbed the file Dr. McCoy handed to him, making sure to get in the last snide comment before leaving. Cuddy closed her eyes and shook her head, rubbing her temples in an attempt to eliminate the migraine that seemed to arrive every time House exited her office.

"I apologize for Dr. House's behavior. He is an excellent doctor, unfortunately, he has the emotional maturity of a three year old."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Dr. Cuddy. Henry previously informed me off Dr. House's unusual social graces. As long as he can get my student better, I have no issue with how he chooses to interact with us."

"You certainly seem to have more patience than I do, Professor. However, I'm willing to bet you don't deal with Gregory House on a daily basis."

"You would be correct there."

"If I may interject," Dr. McCoy started, "I was curious to know what my access to Rogue's condition will be now that she is under the supervision of this hospital."

"It's not often we get someone who actually requests to spend time around Dr. House. As long as you let me know when you arrive, I don't think it will be a problem, at least not for me. House won't be happy, but he can suck it up."

"Thank you very much for your hospitality, Dr. Cuddy." Stated Henry, wrapping his paw around Cuddy's hand in a warm handshake.

"Sixteen-year-old female presents with a Urinary Tract Infection, high fever, fits of rage and seizures. Tweedledee and Tweedledum, what's the differential diagnosis?" House leaned against the tall dry-erase board that stood in the middle of the conference room part of the Department of Diagnostic Medicine. At the modern glass table sat Dr. Robert Chase and Dr. Eric Foreman, both med school graduates finishing their teachings under the tutelage of House.

"Am I seeing this correctly? The great and powerful Gregory House is treating a simple drug overdose?" Foreman asked, incredulous at the inversed behavior of his superior.

"No drugs. Oh, and I forgot one more symptom." House bent down and scrawled inability to control mutation under seizures. After reading the new information, Chase snorted, annoyed.

"You've got us treating a mutant?"

"I would assume that's what I meant when I wrote the word mutation on the board."

"I hate mutants."

"I don't recall love being part of a differential diagnosis. So let's hear some suggestions." House said, popping another valium. House had never had a soft spot for the Australian, considering him the least useful of his

"If it's not drugs, next best suspect is something in the brain, most likely a tumor. But I've got a better question. How are you so sure it's not drugs?" Foreman was the one doctor in the whole hospital younger than House who could match him in terms of arrogance and pure stubborn willpower. House would dent it to the grave, but the truth of the matter was that House respected the young Doctor's opinion, and House was one to respect the opinions of a select few individuals.

"Well, if it's cancer, then let oncology deal with it."

"What's your problem with mutants anyway?"

"They're a danger to society. Do you want people who can read your mind walking about freely? There are mutants that can walk through walls, mutants that can make fire simply by concentrating. And you want them walking around free?"

"All you're doing is falling for propaganda. They're saying things now about mutants that they said about blacks in the forties. For once in your life, use something besides a lab coat to show you went to medical school."

"This is not propaganda. Every night they've got these mutants on the news, killing innocent people. Last time I checked, there weren't any African-Americans that could bring down a building by simply running through it." House was watching the childish argument play out before him with a mixture of bemusement and vexation. Bemusement because he took a perverse sort of pleasure whenever his two male lackeys got into a pissing contest, which was at least twice a week, and vexation because the more time they took to bicker meant it would take longer to actually treat the patient, which in turn meant it would be even longer before he could do anything that wasn't actual work. Haunted by the looming danger that was physical exertion, he quickly broke up the playground scuffle playing out in front of him.

"Hey, you two can take turns measuring your genitals on your own time. Last time I checked you two still worked for me, so start."

"I'll tell you right now, I'm not treating a mutie."

"Your choices are treat the patient or answer my mail, and I'm fairly positive Cameron wouldn't appreciate having you horn in on her action. It's basically the same thing as when two women wear the same dress to a party." As House finished his putdown, none other than Dr. Henry McCoy, proving to all that doubted that there was, in fact, a god of impeccably bad timing.

"I certainly hope I am not interrupting anything." Chase turned to face the guest, his face first a mask of pure shock, then quickly transforming to that of a violent disgust. Finding his voice through the red spirit in his eyes, he spoke quickly and short, not using a single word than what was necessary.

"You're not interrupting anything. I was just leaving." As Chase pushed his way past the large blue man that stood within the room, he turned back to House, nothing less than pure hatred within his corneas.

"I'll be in the clinic, treating humans." The word humans was spat with such a lethal venom that, even after Chase was out the door and down at the elevators some distance away, the three still inside the conference room were busy in awe. House was the first to speak up.

"Just ignore him. He's always cranky when the cafeteria forgets to put the beet on his burger."

"I apologize for...that. I'm Dr. Eric Foreman." He said, extending his hand as he stood up from his metal chair.

"Dr. Henry McCoy, and you have nothing to apologize for, young sir. Everyone in the world has their opinion."

"Yea, I think I read somewhere that they're like something else everyone has. Now, let's get back to our patient. I'm sure you're every bit as good as you were in med school, with the added bonus of shedding."

"I am hopeful that I will be able to aide you to the best of my abilities. I trust you have always placed Rogue in an ice bath?"

"Yea. She was pretty upset to be torn away from my mail, but thems the breaks in our profession." Just then, both Foreman and House's beepers went off. As they stared at the glowing LCD screen, their faces simultaneously became grim.

"What is it? What happened?" Asked Henry.

Author's Note: There it is, chapter two. As was the case with chapter one, I own neither X-Men: Evolution nor House. Those are all the property of...someone. I'm sure of it. I now owe some thanks to a few people.

NightGoddess: Ask, and ye shall receive. Glad you enjoyed that chapter; I hope you enjoy this one.

The Writer With No Name: Glad you enjoyed that one; I hope you enjoy this one. As for what Rogue's in for...wait and see.

Ishandahalf: Dude, you're pretty much O.G. on this board, so I was thrilled to read your review. As for Rogue and House butting heads, it will happen, but not for some time. Also, glad you enjoy Hank. Beast is one of my favorites, so I'm glad to know he sounds like he should. Hope you enjoy the chapter

To everyone else who read, thank you so much. I hope to have the next chapter up within the week, but I'm preparing to go back to college, so the wait may be sightly longer. Now go review, and your teeth will whiten magically.