AN: I am so sorry that this has taken this long to update. I am hugely thankful for the new followers that I am getting for this story. You guys are the ones that keep this going! My new job has been taking up a lot of my time, but I want you guys to know that I'm not going anywhere. I will continue to write for you guys, even if it's at a slower pace than the usual. I hope that you enjoy this chapter and as always please leave me comments and feel free to follow me!

love - Mich

Foreman and Chase sat around the table in the diagnostics conference room when Cuddy walked in with the sound of her black platform heels and a loud huff. "Where is the best diagnostics department sixty miles from here?"

Chase shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. "We are… why?"

"We are not here. House is in Baltimore with Cameron and Stacy lying about his billings," Cuddy answered.

Foreman shrugged. "So?" he questioned. "I'm certified."

"You are not House," Cuddy corrected.

"Why did you put me in charge of the department if you don't think I can handle it?" Foreman growled.

Cuddy sighed and faced him fully. "Because Foreman. It's temporary while House cannot be here."

"What are the symptoms?"

"Seriously?" she admonished. "Are you going to try and diagnose them without seeing them, try to be just like House?"

Foreman narrowed his eyes at his boss. "I need to know the symptoms so I can tell you which hospitals to recommend them to."

Cuddy cleared her throat and opened up the file that she held in her hand. "The EMT's report states the patient struck his head and is suffering from aphasia."

"A neurological problem then. Now I know a lot of good people in that field, seeing as I happen to be a neurologist."

"You're really going to pout?" Cuddy asked.

"Not at all," Foreman answered, "Taylor's pretty good. House was going to hire him until he saw my resume."

Chase snickered to himself as he looked back and forth in between the two. This is a riot, he thought.

Cuddy sat the file down on the table and propped on arm on her hip. "The patient is Michael Thomas. He's written twelve books? Exposed three administrations? Before he exposes us—"

Foreman held up a hand, halting her rant. "I get it; famous patient needs a famous doctor. I'll contact Taylor."

"Thank you," Cuddy answered with a smile and picks the file up, turning to leave the room, when Foreman spoke up again.

"Or you could call him?" he suggested. "I could end up saying something stupid."

Cuddy turned back towards Foreman, who was raising an eyebrow at her. "Oh my lord!" she hollered. "House is easier." Cuddy tossed the patients file onto the table in front of Foreman and left the room to the sound of both been chuckling.

Chase leaned over Michael and shines a light into his each of his eyes, checking the reaction of his pupils. "Have you taken any drugs?" he asked.

Michael watched Chase's movements before responding. "I displaced my function… laid back," he replied, only to furrow his eyebrows and sigh.

Michael's wife stood at the edge of the room, letting the doctors run their tests. "He used to drink regularly, but he's been sober now for almost a year."

Foreman nodded and faced Michael. "Mr. Thomas, you think that you're talking normally but your speech is impaired." He watched as Michael looked over to his wife and he turned his head to look at her as well. "He knows what he wants to say, but when he reaches for a word his brain finds something else," he explained.

"I grapple average," Michael suddenly stated, causing everyone to look at him. "Cancer glisten."

Mrs. Thomas looked at Michael, then to Foreman and Chase. "He doesn't realize he's saying it wrong?"

"It sounds normal to him," Chase answered as he grabbed a pan and paper from his front pocket. "Could you write your name for me?" he asked, handing the pad to Michael.

Michael looked around at everyone in the room with a bewildered look on his face. He leaned forward in his place on the bed and attempted to write, only his hand shook as he made a couple of jagged lines on the paper.

Chase nodded to him and gently took the pad and paper back. "It's called agraphia, the loss of the ability to write. Most of the time it's temporary."

Foreman took in a deep breath and jotted down a couple of notes. "How hard did he hit his head?" he asked.

His wife grimaced at the thought. "It was a pretty loud crack… made an awful sound."

He nodded and turned back to Michael. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Of golf!" Michael exclaimed.

Foreman shook his head. "Don't tell me a sentence. Give me a simple yes or no; do you understand what I'm saying?"

Michael struggled a bit and let out a huff of breath. "Yes." He finally answered.

Chase was about to speak when another woman rushed into Michael's room. "Mike!" she exclaimed. "Is he alright, Tina?"

Tina turned and shrugged. "We're not sure," she answered, turning to Chase and Foreman. "This is Mike's editor."

"I'm Maya Fipps. I just wanted to make sure that you got the right story from the EMT's."

Chase furrowed his brow. "How many are there?"

"He didn't trip," Maya stated, "He fell, out of nowhere. His foot kind of jerked, and then he fell. It just looked like he tripped."

Meanwhile House and Stacy sat in an office waiting for the Medicaid officer to walk in. Stacy looked over at House and watched him for a moment as he played with his cane. "Remember what we talked about. Don't say anything and don't attempt to defend your billing practices."

House rolled his eyes. "Haven't we been over this already?"

"If I thought you'd listen, I wouldn't say it," Stacy replied, just as the man they had been waiting on entered the office.

"Good afternoon," He greeted as he sat down behind his desk and began to look through the large folder that he held.

"Good afternoon," Stacy returned in kind, while House just sat in silence.

"So," the man began, "Every case that you have rates a five on the complexity scale."

Stacy nodded, "Dr. House has a very specialized practice."

The man nodded. "Alright then, let's go through these then shall we?"

Houses eyes widened. "All of them?" he questioned, looking at the mountain of folders that he had sitting on his desk.

"If you had any lunch plans, I would cancel them if I were you."

House sighed and sat back in his chair, a grim look on his face. I hope Cameron won't be too upset for me not meeting her like I had promised her, he thought.

Back at the hospital, Foreman and Chase sat in the team's conference room. "If Michael didn't trip, something made him fall. A stroke? Seizure?" Foreman thought aloud.

Chase shrugged. "Thirty people say that he tripped when he fell. Only one person is saying that he didn't. Who are we to believe?"

"His symptoms can all be explained by head trauma; causes a contusion or a seizure that causes the aphasia. We should get an EEG," Chase babbled.

Foreman nodded and noted it on the white board. "If it was a stroke, it could also be a clotting issue."

"Even if he fell, drug use could be pretty likely, I'll order a tox screen." Chase stood and was about to head out of the room when Foreman stopped him.

"I'm not done with the differential Chase," Foreman warned.

Chase furrowed his brow at him. "You're not my boss." He quickly stated.

Foreman rolled his eyes and huffed. "I am House's boss right now, which makes me your boss."

"Are you the person that signs my paychecks?" Chase argued. "Are you hiring or firing anyone?"

"It's not about that and you know it," Foreman replied.

"The only thing you have been asked to do is to look over House in case he does something stupid," Chase replied sternly.

"Someone has to be in charge of everything."

"Why?" Chase questioned, getting frustrated.

"Do you think we should all be able to do whatever we want to do? Maybe have a race to the diagnosis?" Foreman asked.

Chase sighed. "I think it should be a discussion among peers. We're grown up enough to reach a consensus."

Foreman sighed in return and nodded in agreement. "Go on and do the tox screen, come back when you get the results."

Back in the Medicaid office a few hours later, Mr. Kline sat at his desk, reading through yet another file that contained one of House's cases. "Patient, 62-yrs-old. You prescribed Viagra. I look in vain for the words 'erectile dysfunction' in the notes for a Margarete Sanders?"

House shrugged in his seat, although a ghost of a smile was on his face. "She had a heart condition," he stated.

Mr. Kline raised an eyebrow. "You ran out of nitroglycerin then I assume?"

"She also had low blood pressure, so giving her nitro would be dangerous. The little blue pills improve blood flow, they're vasodilators. That's why you sometimes get the headaches," House explained.

Stacy sighed, "I think Dr. House understands - "

"Of course I understand, the woman has a heart condition, so she's on her own. A man can't nail his office assistant, its national crisis time."

Mr. Kline looked at House sternly. "Are you seriously expecting us to foot the bill for the off-label use of this medication?"

"Fine, I'll pay for it," House answered. He leaned to the side in his chair and reached for his wallet. "How much are the pills? Exactly how many did she take?"

Stacy's eyes widen as she slaps him on the arm. "House! Put your money away."

"Are you trying to bribe me Dr. House?" Mr. Kline questioned.

House was about to make another retort, but Stacy butted in. "I'm sorry Mr. Kline, my client is an idiot," She looked over at House, who had the audacity to look shocked at her words. "But is he wrong about the pills?" she asked.

"The off-use of any drug is not sanctioned –"

Stacy smiled sweetly. "You're retiring in three weeks. You've been doing this job nearly twenty years, aren't you tired of administering a policy you disagree with?" she asked.

Mr. Kline shook his head. "I never said that I disagree with –"

"What can they do to you?" Stacy asked, "Doctor House is sorry," she continued, looking pointedly over at House, "about his earlier outburst."

House readily agreed. "Absolutely sir."

House and Stacy walked out into the lobby of the Medicaid building, both with a smile on their face. "Do you normally do background checks on Medicaid personnel?" he questioned.

Stacy shrugged as she held the door open for House to walk through it. "I do what I need to for my clients," she answered, checking her watch. "Plus I just made a new personal record."

House nodded. "It actually worked out since I made a reservation for dinner tonight."

"Gotta date?" Stacy asked.

House smirked. "You know it."

"Just make sure that you make your flight, that's all I ask. Cuddy will have both our heads if you and Cameron don't make your flight. Where is she anyhow?"

"She said something about deciding to go shopping while she has free time. Girl thing I assume."

Stacy chuckled. "You would assume right. I'll see you back at the hospital House."

House nodded and watched as Stacy turned and walked down the street. He then pulled out his cellphone and quickly dialed Cameron. "Answering on the second ring… awaiting my call?" he asked.

Cameron chuckled. "Maybe…"

"How was your shopping?" he asked, trying to hail a cab.

"You're actually interested?"

"If being interested is wondering if you bought any sexy lingerie, then yes."

"If you must know, I had a good time. It's nice to be able to relax for once and have a little down time."

House nodded as he got into a cab. "That's why I invited you along. Where are you? I just got a cab and I can meet you."

"Umm," Cameron looked around and spotted a park down the street from her. "Seely Park."

"I'll be there shortly. We have reservations before our flight back home."

"Taking me on a date Dr. House?" Cameron teased.

House chuckled. "Yes, I am… anything wrong with that?"

Cameron smiled as she walked into the park and sat on the nearest bench. "Not at all."