A/N: I promised you another chapter in one night and I did it! This one is exceptionally longer than the last one too. I'm proud of myself. Please review... it's the only way I have of knowing if I'm doing this right or not.

Disclaimer: I own a car, a laptop, and a small college trust fund. Nothing else.

I glanced through the file Greg had faxed to me while chewing a peanut on my thirteen hour flight from Berlin to New York City. The patient was a twenty-five year old male and had been admitted complaining of headaches, backaches, and a severe sore throat. Apparently, he had gone to their free clinic, where a Dr. Wilson had seen him. He was admitted after his 103 degree fever was discovered. As of eight hours ago the patient had added cough, pain in the chest, and diarrhea to his list of symptoms.

I put the folder back in my bag and sat back in my chair, mulling it over. If this was indeed a hemorrhagic fever, it was still in the early stages. This could just as easily be a common virus or Legionnaires Disease. In fact, I hoped it was something so simple. Any sort of hemorrhagic fever could spell disaster for the whole hospital. Closing my eyes, I decided to put off any serious thought on the topic until I could talk to everyone myself.

I awoke just as the plane was landing. I looked out at the airstrip and sighed, 'Welcome to America,' I thought to myself. I struck me as odd that I could just as easily be in one country one minute and in another the next as I could change rooms in my own apartment.

I grabbed my bags and rented a car, happy to drive from New York to Princeton. Checking to make sure I had my map, I made my way to my assigned car. The whole drive took me about an hour and a half, and I was happy to listen to my music in relative peacefulness. It was late at night by the time I reached the Princeton city limits and I decided to crash at a hotel for the night before making my way to the hospital the next morning.

My alarm went off at 7:30 and I felt like I had slept in sandpaper. I'd slept about four hours and, adding the three from the flight, hadn't gotten enough sleep to be conducive of any sort of diagnosis. Getting out of bed, I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped this guy wasn't too sick. It took me an hour to shower and get ready. I took longer than normal on my hair and make-up and, at one point, had to stop and berate myself for acting like a teenage girl. I really needed to control myself.

Throwing my laptop into my rental car I jumped in and looked at my map once more before starting it and heading off towards Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I hadn't been here in nine years but it seemed as if not much had changed. I parked in a designated visitor parking spot and made my way to the front door. I knew where I was going this time and, after my long conversation with Lisa Cuddy the day before, I was headed towards the Dean of Medicine's office.

I pulled open the door to their free clinic and smiled to myself. It had been a long time since I'd been in an American hospital and even longer since I'd worked in one. The last hospital I'd worked in had been in Africa and I tried not to remember that one. I glanced through the window into Lisa's inner office and noted that she looked angry about something. However, she was alone, so I knocked and entered after her invitation.

Lisa stood up and smiled, although it didn't quite make it to her eyes, "Rita! It's been a long time. How are you?" She held out her hand and I took it, shaking it politely.

"It has and I'm doing okay. I'm just curious to see what all the excitement is about." She motioned for me to sit down and I did. I was eager to see Greg and the patient but I tried to mask my giddiness.

"Excitement is an understatement. I just got off the phone with Dr. Macintosh, at the CDC. He said that I should tell you to call him immediately. He sounded angry." Lisa gave me a knowing look and I just looked at the floor. We'd gotten to know each other well enough when I was here during Greg's surgery for the infarction in his leg. She knew about my history with him and my inability to control my feelings towards him.

"I'll call him today, I promise. I left without clearance. He probably wants to fire me." I stood up and smiled down at her, "I'm going to go find Greg, if you don't mind. I'm eager to see this patient and if he's right we won't have much time before treatment becomes a non-option."

Lisa stood up and smoothed out her skirt, "Of course. Would you like me to go up there with you? Do you remember where it is?"

I shook my head and tried to look relaxed, "I remember. I'll be fine. Thanks Lisa."

"No problem. Listen, Rita, people say he's changed since the infarction and Stacy but I don't think he has. He's still the same Greg, there are just more walls." I nodded and turned for the door, ready to face my fears.

'Up the elevator and to the right,' I thought to myself. The last time I was here, I'd memorized this hospital and I couldn't remember why. Before I knew it I was standing outside his office door. He wasn't inside but further inspection led me to find him in a conference room next door with three younger doctors. They were talking about something but I couldn't understand what. I opened the door to his office and walked in, happy to wait for them to finish. I glanced around and noticed some things that hadn't changed. Maybe Lisa was right. Maybe he was the same old Greg.

"Rita Johnson." He opened the adjoining door to the conference room and entered his office. This was the first time that I had seen him with the cane. I wanted to run away and hug him at the same time.

I opened my mouth to make some witty statement but nothing would come. I must have looked awfully dumb, standing there with my mouth open. He didn't say anything though, and just limped over to his desk and sat down with a sigh.

"It took you long enough. Did you walk from Germany?"

He expected me to say something smart, something that would make him smile, or at least get that funny smirk he used when he wanted to look macho. I couldn't think of anything. My brain had become a giant scrambled egg and I couldn't feel my feet anymore. It was like I'd grown roots.

He looked up at me and gave me a questioning look, "Are you going to faint? I'm sorry to say that I won't be catching you if you faint."

"Greg-" I had to stop and remember to breathe, "You look…" I trailed off and just stared at him.

"Spare me the formalities. It hasn't been that long." He pointed to a chair and then opened the file sitting in front of him, "Twenty-five year old male-"

"Yeah, nine years is nothing to us young kids." I almost sighed out loud, I thought I'd lost my sarcasm but almost as easily as it was lost, it was found.

He looked up at me and smirked and then I did sigh. Sitting down, I rubbed my forehead and tried to focus on the window behind his head.

"As I was saying, twenty-five year old male presents with fever, aches, and diarrhea. He is now sitting at a 104 degree temperature and he's already blown chunks on a nurse and Wilson."

"He's vomiting? Is it just stomach contents or is there blood? Tissue? Who's Wilson?" I leaned forward in my chair and I could swear he smiled at me.

"There's the Rita I was looking for. Yes, there was some blood but no tissue yet, and Wilson is our local oncologist boy wonder. You'll be meeting him soon." I leaned back again and thought. Wilson had to be the only person in Greg's life that I didn't know.

"I need a better history of the patient than the one I have. Has he been traveling? The only way this could be hemorrhagic is if he's been to an affected area. Africa is the only one where he could get it by accident. I need to know if he's been there, where, when, and what he did."

I made a move to stand up and he held up a hand, smirking again, "I figured you'd want to do that catch up thing first but if you're so eager to visit the patient I'm sure he's not doing anything important, other than dying that is."

I leaned back again and tried to relax, "Oh, of course, what am I doing? It's not like he's going anywhere. I guess I'm just used to doing this in the field."

Greg rolled his eyes and shut the file, dropping it on his desk, "That's what Africa does, it ruins people. You come back to the real world and suddenly you can't work without thinking about the poor starving children."

I started to glare and then just shook my head. I'd forgotten how he sounded sometimes. This was just Greg protecting himself.

"Every time I see a baby…" I pretended to tear up and put my head in my hands.

He laughed at me and, after a second of awkward silence, I dropped the big question, "How are you, Greg?"

I made a note to look at him and really see him. The lines on his face were more prominent and I was sure that I looked just as haggard, if not more. He had frown lines on his forehead and I could tell that he didn't smile much. The only thing that hadn't changed was the azure blue of his eyes. The ever unchanging eyes that made many a woman swoon. Those eyes were the most expressive eyes I'd ever seen.

He held my eye contact for a minute and then sighed, looking down, "I'm alive."

I frowned but decided not to push, after all, we hadn't seen each other in nine years, "Me too, House. Me too."