A/N: Bla bla bla, I don't own House or it's characters. They all belong to Fox... I wish Fox would stop hogging them! Anywho, brief summary, this is in no way going to involve sappy doctor relationships. I can't guarantee updates all the time, school eats up a lot of time.

One of the Hospital staff has to bring her daughter to work (for reasons unknown to the staff.) House finds himself rather taken by the girl (not in some disgusting way) once she helps him get out of clinic duty. When the nurse and girl become stricken by some vile disease, it is a race against the clock to save lives and unmask a terrible secret that lies with the girl.

Et voila, don't like it? Sure thing, doesn't matter much to me, you're the one wasting your time reading it. I'm having a jolly good party writing it!

"'Neath the stars at bazaars... often I've had to caress men... Five or ten dollars then I collect from all those yes men..."

"I don't see why you had to drag me out here," Doctor Gregory House shifted his cane

slightly and took a sip of his beer. The dim lights in the bar made his eyes ache, he didn't complain, it was so rare that one of his colleagues asked him out for drinks after work, truth be told, he enjoyed getting out once in a while. He wouldn't tell any of them that.

"Thought you might want to get out of your dismal fortress of solitude just once." James Wilson grinned across the bar table at his friend, "Besides, if you don't get out once and a while you become more grumpy. Then patients start to complain and Cuddy starts to bug me and-."

"The very concerned friend, I see." House observed, "Thanks." Was the muttered reply.

"Anytime."

"Don't be sad, I must add that they meant no more than chessmen... Darling can't you see, twas for charity?" A mellow voice rose from the stage at the far end of the bar.

"So what was with that last case you had?" Wilson looked over the suspicious bowl of bar nuts.

"You don't want to," House said, interpreting his friends look. "A guy with antiphospholipid syndrome."

"You don't see that every day."

"No, you don't, What made it interesting was the arrogant wife hanging off of the guys' arm at every minute of the day."

"Must have made it difficult."

"I don't know, I let Foreman handle it."

"Though these lips have made slips, it was never really serious... Who'd have thought I'd be brought to a state that's so delirious?"

"That was nice of you, why do you beat on that guy so much?"

"He amuses me, like a puppet." House said plainly, "I feel so in control, pulling his strings..."

"Not to mention pushing his buttons," Wilson pointed out.

"I'm god, it's my right."

"God... sure."

House pulled out a medicine bottle, unscrewed the cap and popped a pill into his mouth while Wilson looked on with a rather painful judgmental gleam in his eyes.

"Go on, say it, I know you want to. I can feel the shame rays emanating forth, fortunately you haven't mastered crushing peoples skulls with your mind yet, so I think I'm all right for the time being."

"I didn't say anything." Wilson said, pushing aside his friends dry comment. "I just think maybe you ought to slow down on the pain killers a bit."

"Now... we've gone through this before. I become grumpy if I stop taking my candy, you wouldn't want to put the rest of the hospital staff through that again would you?"

"I could cry salty tears, where have I been all these years? Little wow... tell me now.. How long has this been going on?"

"The rest of the hospital staff would like to have you committed, or arrested, either one."

"They're just jealous." House said smugly.

"Jealous of what, pray tell?"

"My charm and charisma of course."

"This is the part where I say something smart and you come back at me with a witty retort... I'm not even going to bother trying."

"There were chills up my spine... And some thrills I can't define. Listen sweet, I repeat... How long has this been going on?"

"Smart move on your part," House's eye's sparkled with amusement, "You know, If I were that singer showing all those symptoms, I'd get to a doctor."

"She's pretty young," Wilson said as they turned to the stage at the far end of the room and observed a young girl in a short, black dress singing on the stage with a back up band behind her.

"Either that or she's a midget."

"Thank you Politically Incorrect Doctor House."

"Bah, politically incorrectness is everywhere, I don't see why you have to point it out every time I say something..." House muttered.

"Because you are politically incorrect, your methods are, your personality is, your eyes only allow you to see things for you to make fun of..."

"Right now they're tuned in directly on you. When did you and Cuddy exchange brains?"

"Two weeks ago after that big after-work party. Don't ask, it involved martini's and a donkey."

"Oh I feel that I could melt, into heaven I'm hurled. I know how Columbus felt, finding another world..."

"In other words, she has a high fever." House sipped his beer as the rancid taste of the pill remained on his tongue.

"Kiss me once, then once more. What a dunce I was before... What a break for heaven's sake... How long has this been going on?"

"You ever wonder what the meanings of some of these desperately sad songs are?" Wilson asked as he hummed along to the old tune.

"Not really."

"Oh come on Greg, there must be something other than 'grumble grumble I hate patients grumble grumble' In your head."

"It's about a hooker that's found love,"

"Really?"

"I dunno, but it sounds about right."

"I thought that's what 'Mr. Brightside' was about."

"Kiss me twice, then once more. That makes thrice, lets... make it four. What a break for heavens sake... How long has this been going on?"

"It probably is."

"How long... has this been going on?"

There was a mellow applause for the woman... young girl on stage, she flushed a brief smile before giving a nod to the guitarist, a second song started playing. House recognized it as "Tomorrow Never Dies."

"Come on," Wilson pulled a few dollars out of his pocket and put them on the table to pay for the drinks. "You've got clinic duty tomorrow, and you'll be up lately thinking of some master plan to avoid Cuddy."

"That's it for Miss Jennifer Corbin, people! Give her and the band a big round of applause!"

"Jen, hey Jenny, are you okay?" The guitarist from the stage sat beside the young girl who was sitting on a couch in the green room. She held her head in her hands and breathed heavily for a moment, her wavy brown hair fell limply around her shoulders.

"Yeah... I'm fine, just tired."

"We did two sets' tonight, I'm not surprised. You must be hungry."

"No... I'm not."

"You have to eat something..."

"Thanks for your concern Spence, but I'm fine. I just need some rest."

"You going with Gloria to the hospital tomorrow?"

The girl, Jenny nodded and smiled, "Yeah, apparently they don't want me at home by myself. Who knows how many days I'm going to be spending there?"

"Jen..." Spencer's voice was suddenly quiet, "I can get you out of here. I've got enough put away."

"I know," She whispered in reply, "And I appreciate it, but for now I've got to stay, you know they'll find me."

"Jen, come on." A gruff looking man stood in the door way, "We're going."

"I'll see you later." Jenny smiled happily and kissed Spencer on the cheek, "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." He agreed.

Jenny stood up and tried to push back the nausea in her stomach as well as the slight spinning feeling that filled her head.

'I just stood up too fast,' she told herself, 'I just need some sleep.'