My Jerry Springer Moment

The patient's symptoms weren't anything unusual, but they resisted conventional treatment, and they were getting worse. House had listed them on the whiteboard: irritability, sleeplessness, headache, abdominal pain, lethargy. Typical symptoms of any of a number of maladies.

"What about anemia?" Chase asked.

Cameron flipped through the chart, "hematocrit is low-normal, around 39, not low enough to cause these kinds of symptoms for very long."

House sighed, "Feed him a hamburger. So while he's anemic, we aren't attributing this set of symptoms to that."

Foreman chimed in, "It might contribute to their severity."

Chase nodded, "Right. So the anemia isn't where we need to focus."

House turned, normally each of them would hold on to their theory like grim death, relinquishing it only if it were conclusively proven wrong, usually through painful testing of the patient. "Depression?"

Foreman consulted his notes, "I don't think so. That abdominal pain, it doesn't really fit."

House probed further, "And you don't want to investigate a neurological source?"

Foreman grew thoughtful, "I'm not ruling it out entirely, but I believe that we should exclude other factors before we start with neuro." He saw House's disappointment, "Sorry."

Cameron sucked the end of her pen, "What about duration? He's had some form of these symptoms for years."

House thought, "Environmental?"

"His house is four years old, built on a former onion field…" Chase advised.

"You checked the site information? That's thorough." House eyed him suspiciously, "Don't you hate that kind of research?"

"I knew you'd ask, so I was pro-active."

House paced, "What's his occupation?"

"He's a police officer. A patrolman. So he's not in the same place for very long. Plus his partner doesn't have any symptoms." Chase rattled off.

"Is there anything you don't know?" House asked, miffed that he hadn't been able to trip him up.

"I don't know what women want." He offered.

Foreman and Cameron laughed. House grew annoyed, "Oh come on. What's with you? What happened to that cut-throat competition?"

Foreman thought of something, "Guillian-Barre Syndrome?" He looked over to Cameron.

"He doesn't have muscle weakness, so an NCV might not reveal anything." She said, flipping through pages and pages of notes.

"What about a spinal tap for protein." Foreman suggested.

House spun around; at least it was an idea, "Okay. Try that."

Foreman continued, "But you don't think it's Guillian-Barre, do you?"

"I don't, but I would have expected Cameron to be selling it hard." He stared at her.

"I agree with Eric, I think it's something else. Something environmental." She turned to Foreman, "Eric, what about hobbies," again she flipped, "He's in church league softball. Shortstop. He's also big on target shooting."

House stopped, "Okay, so if we didn't know anything about his environment, what would we suspect?"

Foreman motioned towards the board, "all of that."

"What if he were three instead of thirty?" House postulated.

Cameron got it, "Heavy metal poisoning. Lead. But he doesn't have an old house with chipping paint. Maybe it's mercury?"

"Does he eat a lot of fish? Tuna is very popular with cops I understand." House went over to his desk and started thumbing through a stack of magazines and papers.

"I could ask, or we could just do a blood test." Chase said, trying to think of anything that wasn't consistent with the diagnosis.

"Got it!" House grabbed the MMWR from the CDC. "Last year in Alaska a group of students on the shooting team at their school had high levels of lead in their blood from a poorly ventilated practice facility."

"That's it? Lead poisoning from too much target practice?" Chase whined with disappointment.

"Sorry it wasn't more serious. Test him, but start him on EDTA." House motioned for Wilson to come in.

The team headed over to the lab, leaving House and Wilson alone.

"This is getting serious." House muttered as he and Wilson headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

"What?" Wilson fiddled with his Blackberry as he walked.

"The team." He stopped, waiting for Wilson's complete attention.

"What's wrong with the team?" Wilson put his pager away.

"They're working together. They're happy. They don't fear me anymore. I don't like it." He grabbed a tray, "Oh crap, corned beef and cabbage. He nodded at the guy on the grill, "A Reuben, no pickle."

Wilson opted for a burger and fries, "That's your problem? You can't maintain your desired level of terror?"

House paid for their lunch and they found a table in a quiet corner. "I've always encouraged a healthy competition among my doctors." He took a big bite of his sandwich.

Wilson laughed, "A master of understatement. You want them at each other's throats."

"Right. Make them beg for my notice and grudging respect. But today they were positively using one brain. It's like aliens replaced them with pods or something. Chase, of all people, was actually supporting someone else's idea."

"What's next, the four horsemen? Christ, House, you're the only person I know who thinks that cooperation is a bad thing." Wilson picked up a limp fry and motioned with it, "Perhaps this is a new era, cross-discipline collaboration. No wait, that's the whole reason for having a team. I don't get it. What's the problem?"

"It screws with who I am fundamentally. Today we managed to civilly diagnose a patient. We didn't need invasive testing, we didn't try toxic medicines that provoked serious side effects, and we didn't get it wrong three times before we got it right. We came to a consensus." He poked at his potato chips, "and we got it right."

Wilson nearly choked on his burger in amusement, "don't worry. Maybe it was a fluke."

"No, they've become cohesive. And I blame Foreman. He's the one that got them all together. You know that they go out and have adventures? Cameron even got a tattoo."

Wilson nodded, "Yeah, a koala."

House could barely control his anger, "How do you know?"

"I asked to see it. It's cute." Wilson took another bite of his burger.

"You've seen her ass? She showed it to you? It's a koala?"

"Jealous?" Wilson goaded him. "You should have been there for the pole dance."

House pushed his plate away; he felt the color drain from his face. "Pole dance?"

"Don't freak. It was beautiful actually. I was out…" he omitted with whom, presumably a woman not his wife, "and I happened to see them down at Snooky's. I think it might have been two-dollar margarita night. At any rate, there's a jukebox and a structural support, and well, I guess it was her song." Wilson watched House as he explained; he thought he could visibly detect an elevation in his blood pressure.

House reeled. The idea of Cameron letting go enough to…no, they were all messing with him and they got Wilson in on it. He composed himself. But then curiosity got the best of him, "What song?"

"Van Halen..." Wilson started.

House shook his head, knowing what Wilson was about to say, "No..."

"Yup, Hot for Teacher." He slid the dagger in. "If you ever let her go again, she won't starve."

Cameron studied the results of the blood test. "Lead. Lots and lots of lead." She attached it to the chart, "Well, that was easy."

Foreman threw another pencil into the acoustical tiling in the ceiling. It stuck. "You busy tonight?"

Cameron thought for a moment, "No. I'm off all week. I told them I needed rest. Why?"

"Feel like grabbing dinner? Chase found this new place." He checked his watch, 2:45, the worst time in the work day.

"I guess, but I've got to get home early. I promised Malcolm I'd call him." She made one last notation and closed the chart.

"So what's with these guys anyway? Usually they go away after a while." Chase was still bitter that she wouldn't give him a tumble.

"I don't know. It's the damndest thing. The more I ignore them, the better they like it. Men are so weird." She raised her arms over her head and stretched, causing her skirt to hike up.

Chase watched her; he loved her new wardrobe, and her new attitude. "It's in our nature. We like the chase, we thrill in the hunt."

"It's all a big, boring game. I've already told Ted that I don't want to see him any more." She slid her shoe off and leaned over to rub her foot.

Foreman sat up, "Why? I thought you liked him."

She shrugged, "I do, he's nice. But it's not fair to him. He's not seeing anyone else, and I think he wants to get serious. I don't see myself with him."

Chase brightened, "So you're down to two?"

She looked at him coldly, "Not that it means anything to you."

Foreman studied her, "Isn't Declan leaving for England next month?"

"Yes. What about it?" She sat back down.

"So there will just be Malcolm." He surmised.

"Well…"

"You're dumping him too?" Foreman got up, as did Chase.

"Hey, I'm allowed. I dated them, we had some fun. I'm done. What's the problem?" She tried to get a decent reflection off the surface of a work lamp so she could check her hair.

Foreman took a deep breath, "This isn't about how much you like these guys, this is about how much you like House. You're not over him, are you?"

Chase shook his head, "I think she needs an intervention."

Cameron got defensive, "It's not that."

Foreman leaned over, his lips nearly on her ear, "No? Then what is it?"

She sighed, "Okay. So I'm not over him. I was dropped on my head. It's totally irrational and I know that. But I think you're asking an awful lot from me. At least an addict can withdraw. I work with the man every day. How can I stop thinking about him when he's in my face all the time?"

"So what are you going to do? Go back to the way things were?" Foreman paced.

"No! No way. I like how things are going now. I go out, I have fun, and I meet all kinds of great people. I'll just get some new boyfriends. But I'm not going to string guys along just to have them around me. If it doesn't look like it's going to work out, then I'll cut them loose."

Foreman smiled, "New boyfriends?"

Cameron checked her nails, "Yes. There's Charles, he's a stockbroker. He's called a couple of times. And remember Danny?"

"The student?" Chase's voice went up an octave on the last syllable.

"Okay, maybe he's too young. The point is that I have options. If all I want is guys, I can get them."

Foreman clapped his hands in glee, "That's my girl!"

"You're encouraging her?" Chase admonished.

"Hell yes! Why should she sit at home?" Foreman gave her a squeeze, "Good for you."

"No, that's not it. You don't get it." Cameron seemed sad, "I know what real love is, and I'm not settling for anything less. I'll give them a chance, but if it's not there, then…" She motioned with her hand, indicating that they would be on their way.

Foreman grew serious, "Allison, do you honestly love House?"

Chase's eyes got wide, "Oh." He groaned softly.

"I think I do, but how would I know for sure? I know that I have feelings for him, but you can't love someone in a vacuum. Until he loves me back, it's academic, isn't it?" She was remarkably dispassionate.

"I feel like I'm on Jerry Springer. Take good care of yourselves, and each other!" Chase said in disgust.

"I prefer 'dip me in chocolate and throw me to the lesbians', but that's not really to the point is it?" Foreman said, quoting from the opera.

Cameron giggled. "I record the show on the DVR. Want to come over and watch it tonight after dinner?"

Chase fumed in the corner as Foreman allowed the subject to be changed, "What's the topic?"

Cameron thought for a moment, "I'm an idiot with poor coping skills and no teeth?"

"Why not? You in Chase?" Foreman checked his watch. It still wasn't time to go home.

Chase bit his lip, "I s'pose." He regarded Cameron, "What is it about him anyway?"

It was Cameron's favorite subject, and she indulged herself, "He's attractive, intelligent and sexy. I can see why you'd be mystified."

"But he's really mean too." He pointed out.

"I can rationalize that. He's in pain, he's had disappointments in his life, his heart got broken." She knew he'd never understand.

"But you've had all sorts of terrible stuff happen in your life. You're not mean." Chase observed, "You're one of the nicest people I know."

"Thank you." She hugged him. "Sometimes I need to hear that."

House walked in while they were still embracing and he winced. "Okay, break it up. What are the results?"

Cameron handed him the report. "Lead."

"Anti-climactic, isn't it?" He handed it back to her.

"Maybe we can get Balto to mush down here with a serum?" She proposed, "Make it more dramatic?"

He smiled, "You're a funny girl. All of a sudden."

"Is that a bad thing?" She turned to file the chart.

"That depends. Chase, Foreman, go check on Officer Friendly for me. Take him some ice cream." He waved a dollar at Foreman.

"Are you serious?" Foreman took the bill.

"I don't really care what you do; I'm trying to get you guys to take a powder. Now's it's lost all its subtlety." He shooed them out and then turned towards Cameron. "Now, what's all this I hear about tattoos and pole dancing?"

Cameron coughed, "What?"

"I'm hearing things, wild rumors if you will, about you." He leaned against the stainless steel table.

"Oh. Are you talking to me as a boss, or in some other capacity?" She licked her lips nervously.

"As a boss, I have no official standing. This is the 21st century and there's no morals clause in your contract. So that's not it." He waited patiently for her explanation.

"How about a sanity clause? You're sounding a bit crazy House."

"There's no such thing as 'Sanity Claus' Do you have any idea how hot it is, you quoting the Marx Brothers?" He reached into his pocket for his bottle, and then thought better of it.

"Hotter than a tattoo or a pole dance?"

"Stop playing with me. Stop this game altogether. I want the old Cameron back." He tapped his cane for emphasis. "I never know what to expect any more."

She smiled at him, "But I'm having fun. If you're off kilter, well, you need to explore that on your own. As for the rest of it. It's on my time and on my ass."

His eyes went involuntarily to that part of her body. "Allison…" he started suggestively, "perhaps I was a bit hasty. Maybe if I actually saw the tattoo…"