Author's Note: I think what medical training does is it gives you the language, the tools to look up facts. I think medical training gives you a sense of how to approach a problem, how to look at symptoms and go down the list of what it might be. –Tess Gerritsen

Disclaimer: I don't own House, M.D., nor its concepts, characters, and setting, but I do love them, especially Chase. This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not meant to take the place of the advice of either physicians or lawyers licensed to practice in your country or state.

Chase settled himself at the conference table with a fresh cup of coffee and a handful of animal crackers in time to see House write LACRIMATION in large black capital letters at the top of the whiteboard.

"The crying can't be a symptom," the younger doctor objected.

House turned. "Oh, no? Quick, name five conditions that have watering eyes as a symptom!"

Chase gaped at him. "Uh—"

"EANHH!" House gave a creditable imitation of the wrong answer buzzer on a game show. "Time's up." He walked over to a shelf and selected a heavy medical tome, returning to the table to drop it with a thud in front of his hapless fellow. "Looks like somebody's going to be making a list of conditions and diseases with lacrimation as a symptom and leaving it on my desk tonight."

"I didn't mean—"

"I don't care what you meant," House interrupted. "I only care what came out of your mouth when I asked you a question, which was nothing, quite apart from the fact that a blanket denial that crying could be a symptom suggests a knowledge deficit requiring immediate correction."

Chase accepted defeat with what grace he could muster and pulled the notebook he famously used as an aide-mémoire towards him so he could write down the order, while House continued to speak.

"Assuming arguendo that you're not a complete moron, there must be a reason why you think this particular lady's crying doesn't constitute a symptom in this case."

"She's in pain."

House turned back to the board, weight balanced on his good leg, then leaned forward to write PAIN underneath LACRIMATION. "You'll note I'm not crossing the first symptom out. What else?"

"Her joints are stiff."

"Which ones?"

"Large ones: shoulders, knees, hips."

"How are her hands and her spine?"

"Fine."

House wrote STIFFNESS IN SHOULDERS/KNEES/HIPS. "And?"

"She's tired all the time, but has trouble sleeping."

FATIGUE joined the list, along with INSOMNIA. "And?"

"She's nauseated and has lost a lot of weight, but that's probably due to the antibiotics."

"Probably," House sneered, simultaneously writing WEIGHT LOSS and NAUSEA on the board. "Did you take her off the antibiotics?"

"Yeah."

"So we'll see if she gets her appetite back." He surveyed the board critically, then turned to his fellow and stole a few of the animal crackers Chase had left to graze on a napkin. "Since there's no such thing as Chronic Lyme Disease, what else could this be?" House's tone had turned mild, coaxing rather than demanding.

Chase took heart at the softened tone. "Rheumatoid Arthritis."

"Are the joints swollen? Warm?"

"No, just stiff."

"Hmm." House's tongue protruded the tiniest bit from between his lips. Clearly, he would have been happier with RA as a diagnosis had Mrs. Baver's joints been warm and swollen, but he shrugged, gave Chase a tiny smile, and wrote RA down as a possible diagnosis anyway. "What else?"

"Lupus."

House rolled his eyes, and at the same time chuckled in a way that took the sting of it away. "Do you really want to run tests or do a biopsy for lupus on this?" The correct answer was clearly no. The mobile lips pursed, and the deep blue eyes smiled. "Is there a butterfly rash?"

"No."

"Any kind of a rash?"

"Not now, no."

"What does 'not now' mean?"

Chase pulled the file over from House's side of the table to sort through the stack of documents the patient had given him. He found the page he wanted and flourished it for his boss' benefit. "She had a more or less circular rash on her back two years ago. That's how she got the Lyme Disease diagnosis to begin with."

"She was treated for Lyme though?" House asked.

"Treated and over-treated. Fourteen days amoxicillin. That should have been the end of it. She felt okay for a while, then the symptoms 'returned' so they gave her a twenty-eight day course of doxycycline."

"Twenty-eight days seems excessive. Did it cure her?"

"Not for long. When the stiffness and pain returned, she went to a… a Lyme 'specialist' and has been on cefuroxime ever since."

"Assuming there was a bacterial infection to begin with," House said, "it's gotta be dead after all that… and you think the nausea is from the cefuroxime?"

"That would be my guess," Chase agreed. "Probably the weight loss, too."

House put a line through those two symptoms. "Pain and stiffness in large joints, fatigue, and insomnia. Go."

"Polymyalgia rheumatica."

"How bad are her shoulders?"

"Stiff. Not as bad as the knees and hips. Limited range of motion, unless she wants to put up with the pain."

House shrugged and wrote PMR on the board. "What else? Think!"

"Giant cell arteritis."

"So the weight loss is a symptom then?"

"Could be," Chase admitted.

"Fine." House erased the WEIGHT LOSS with the strikethrough and rewrote it clean. "No headache, though." He frowned thoughtfully. "Okay, so probably giant cell arteritis, PMR, or rheumatoid arthritis?"

Chase nodded and sipped his coffee.

"Hey, where's my coffee?" House objected.

A grin ghosted on his fellow's lips. Greatly daring, he teased, "In the pot?" but was already rising to get it and pour a fresh cup for his mentor, thereby saving himself from a second scolding.

House inhaled the heady fragrance then drank deeply. He eyed his fellow. "You're lucky you make such good coffee."

Chase bit his lip to hide a smile. "Tests?" he prompted.

"Trying to turn the subject?"

"Yes."

House picked up another animal cracker from Chase's napkin corral. "Get an X-ray of her shoulders, hips, and knees, and redo the blood work. Might as well do another ELISA and Western blot, just to remove all doubt that it could be Lyme at this late date."

Chase nodded, popped the remaining animal cracker in his mouth, gulped down the rest of his coffee, and scribbled another note in his book.

"Why are you still here?" House asked.

Chase only grinned at him before heading safely out the door.