Disclaimer: I sadly don't own House…

A/N: First, I'd like to thank you for your criticism. I know some people might not appreciate it, but I do. Frankly, I'd rather have harsh criticism than silent readers who never say anything. I'd also like to say that I have planned for her to change. She won't be like that forever. Also, yes. She is a Mary Sue and I realized that. I have been writing for a while…but that doesn't bother me (at least, at the moment it doesn't…). If it bothers you, that's why you review. And that's why I listen… Thanks, Buzzkill Bunny. Keep reviewing, if you will. I…weirdly enough…value peoples opinions. Hope this chapter is better…if not…hey…you've got one more story you can give a bad review to!

Imrie looked around her and let her mind wander. For once in her life, she doubted the decision she had made. The only person here who seemed to ever like her was Wilson. And she didn't even see him on a daily basis. She pushed her fingers through her now black tip-less hair and looked back down at the book she had been thumbing through. The words seemed more jumbled than usual. She gave a frustrated sigh, stood and walked out of the office. It only been what…a week or so? And she was already getting stir-crazy.

Imrie bit her bottom lip tightly and walked down the hallway, toward the elevator. Someone stopped her she could always say she was taking a break. In reality it was true…although it had been her maybe third break of the day. Cuddy didn't need to know that. She pressed the down button and found it quite odd that there was utter silence around her. Usually House was yelling at someone, or someone was yelling at House. Either way…

The elevator finally opened and she walked in, not really paying attention to anything around her. "On another break, Dr. Tavington?"

Imrie finally snapped out of her dream world, realizing one of the people she had been avoiding was right behind her. She turned her head slightly and saw House's familiar blue eyes. "I might be. Or I might just like riding the elevators. Who knows…?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you want to get through this hospital unseen, take the stairs."

"What about you?" she muttered under her breath.

He looked down at the back of her head. "What about me? Oh. The stairs. You were trying to make me laugh…or hurt my feelings…"

Imrie shook her head lightly, trying to block out the world again. It's not like she had any real work to do. Clinic hours, maybe. But House hadn't taken a new case yet.

"You've changed since you've gotten here, you know." He said, her mind snapping back to the slightly less cramped elevator; considering a family of two had just gotten off.

"Really? Have I? I haven't had time to notice…what with all the work we've been doing and all…" she said, stepping out of the elevator when it reached ground floor.

She tried to walk to the exit, hoping for some fresh air, and to not be pulled into the clinic, but that rarely happened. "You have." He said, a little distance behind her.

"I know. You've told me. But I'm glad to see you notice some things besides how far your hair line is receding." She told him as she turned around to finally face him. He was dressed as casual as he usually was.

Imrie glanced down, self-consciously. Okay, she had ditched the jeans. Even she admitted they were way to…laid back. She had worn a pair of black pants, with a surprisingly ironed white, button up shirt. However, the pants were a little loose, and the sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to just beneath the elbow. But hey, better than jeans.

"I guess I have. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, is it? Change is good. Even you should think that. I mean, you hired me, didn't you?"

"Only because I value Wilson's opinion. And because your quite stunning when you want to be." He answered as though the answer itself was obvious.

"Okay, I can deal with the fact that you hired me because of Wilson. But the rest was because you liked the way I look? Funny. And I thought you'd go for the mean, lawyer type. Too bad for every malpractice lawyer who wants you, eh?" she said smartly.

She started walking away again, but it seemed like he just would not stop following her. "You know, that actually wasn't bad…"

Imrie turned around and looked up at him. "Look, Doctor. I don't like to be followed. Or taunted. So…please…don't. I have ways of getting away from you."

"Oh, really? Like what?" he asked.

"Like this," she muttered before turning and walked into the clinic. He raised an eyebrow.

"This will definitely be…interesting…" he said to no one but himself as he walked back towards the elevator.

Imrie sat at the computer in front of her and began typing meaningless words. Maybe words that put together didn't mean anything, but she just wanted to at least look like she was really doing something. Her mind wandered back to the conversation she had had with House earlier in the day and she couldn't believe most of the things she had said. Most of the sarcasm she ever had was just after she had had time to think of it. This time…he just made her want to say much worse things than how his hair had been looking.

She punched random keys now, not wishing to do anything more than nothing. The day was almost over, thankfully. She could not wait to get home, put on some music and for maybe the first time since she had started working here, relax. She checked the clock at the bottom of the computer screen and smiled. She could finally leave. She quickly closed the computer program and shut down the computer itself. Just as she had bent over to pick up her messenger bag, she heard a voice behind her.

"Nice ass," the all to familiar voice of House said.

"Thanks for noticing. Although I'm sure you did before. When you decided to hire me," she replied, swinging her messenger bag onto her shoulder.

He smirked slightly. "I didn't really think you'd take that much offense to that comment."

"Which one? That my ass is cute, or that you hired me because I'm pretty? I basically take offense from both. I would have like to have been hired for being a good doctor. Although, it seems now like that doesn't even matter, does it?"

Imrie reached into her bag and started fishing out her car keys.

"Of course it matters. If you had barely graduated med school and you had the worst smile in the world, you would never been working here. Well…maybe for Wilson, but not for me. Your medical background does count for something."

"That's good to know. I mean, I actually did work for a reason. I don't really like people who go through life just slipping by. Doing as little work as possible. It seems almost a waste of life to never experience things. Now if you'll excuse me…I have a bowl of ramen noodles waiting for me." She said, trying to walk past him.

"Not so fast…"

"What now?" she basically groaned.

"I need you to look up something for me. Something that could cause neck pain, fast heart beat, and hallucinations."

"The first thing that comes to mind is heart attack."

"But that wouldn't cause hallucinations."

She sighed, dropped her bag on the floor and grabbed a medical dictionary. "I guess I'll tell you in the morning."
"Good night," he muttered, walking out. She sighed again, shook her head and opened the dictionary.

"I'm sure it will be." She said bitterly.

"Good morning!" House said loudly into Imrie's ear. She jumped awake and realized she hadn't gone home at all. She had gotten to the C's before falling asleep.

"I see you had a very productive night. So, tell me what you found."

"Nothing. Maybe it was a heart attack, and maybe she has schizophrenia."

"There was nothing about it in her medical records and nothing taken in history."

"Everybody lies." She muttered to herself.

"What was that?"

"I said that everybody lies. Besides, you can test for schizophrenia. And if she doesn't have it, its one more thing we can mark off a list of things it could be…" she stated, standing up.

"Now, I am going home for a few hours and will be back after I have bathed, changed, and eaten."

"Nothing more than I'd expect." House said as he walked back into his office.

Imrie picked up her bag, looked through the glass door and sighed. He certainly knew how to keep someone guessing.