I'm on a bit of a roll so here is the next chapter for you...

When House and Wilson returned from the cafeteria, they found the conference room a hive of activity. All of the phones in the room were in use and Cameron was in House's office using his phone as well. The only one who seemed to be missing was Chase. Wilson eyed this activity speculatively then smiled wryly at House.

"I think you might be busy this afternoon," he said lightly. "I'd better leave you to it."

House grimaced then nodded before pushing the door opening and limping into the room. Dr Martinson saw him and wandered over, pausing several times to avoid being run over by enthusiastic young doctors.

"Terry came through for us," he said to House without preamble. "We've got a list of nearly twenty names. Most of them seemed to from Princeton but a few are from a couple of private laboratories. I've got the kids on the phones to track them down. Because there's more than I thought, I decided that they'd only go out if they had to."

"How many could you remove immediately?" House asked as he headed for his office.

"Only three," Martinson replied as they walked in. Cameron looked up but went back to her conversation when House waved a hand at her. "Just the ones Terry had actually met that he felt didn't fit the description. The others he only knows through email conversations or by reputation. The ones that aren't chasing up scientists are calling scientific supply companies." He paused and pulled a piece of paper with a couple of names on it out of his pocket. "I was hoping you might be able to call these two. They're senior enough in the field that even I know their names. The questions to them might be better coming from a Head of a hospital department."

"Might be even better coming from the CDC," House said as he took the piece of paper.

Martinson chuckled and pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket. "I have my own scientists to call. The unfortunate part of cultivating an absent-minded fuddy-duddy persona is you end up feeling bad about lumping work on other people. Lucky for you, eh?"

House gave Martinson an amused look as Cameron put the phone down with an exasperated sigh.

"Out," House said to her, gesturing with his cane.

Cameron gave him a withering look before gathering up the papers she had been referring to. "It can't be Dr Jim Terrence," she said to Dr Martinson. "He's been at a conference in Geneva for the last week."

Martinson watched her go with bemusement then turned back to House. "My, my, I don't think you're her favourite person right now," he chuckled. "I'll leave you to it, shall I?"

Dr Martinson made his escape, his chuckles lingering behind him. House glared at the spectacle in the conference room then sat down in his chair. He threw the piece of paper onto the desk and glared at it irritably for a moment before picking up the phone.

Three quarters of an hour later when he finally put the phone down again he was in a much better mood. Dr William 'Call me Bill' Carter had been surprised to hear from him but had answered his questions with agreeable calm and a refreshing amount of frankness. He'd then turned the tables and asked a few questions about a paper House had published in JAMA about a year ago and the rest of the conversation had veered into the technical. The scientist had been most interested in finding out how House had come up with his diagnosis and that had involved explaining some fairly involuted logic that had seemed straightforward at the time. The scientist had been left shaking his head and expressing his professional admiration which was always something that was likely to leave House in a better humour. Mindless hero worship irritated him; professional respect was far more acceptable. They'd said their goodbyes with House promising to email the more detailed notes on the case to Dr Carter as soon as he could. He made a few notes on a notepad and looked down at the piece of paper again.

His newly acquired good mood was put to the test by his second call when the scientist in question, a Dr Marcus Cartwright, proved to be far more suspicious than his colleague. House was forced to concoct a cover story about having a patient with something horrible and communicable and that he needed to track down the patient's lover. And the only known information about the said lover being that he was a scientist with brown hair and brown eyes. This information seemed to mollify Dr Cartwright and he pointed out to House that it couldn't be him due to the fact that he was married and had red hair. House thanked him with acid politeness and hung up the phone.

He pushed himself to his feet and limped out into the conference room which was still humming with activity.

"Not these two," he said to Martinson, handing him the paper with the names. "One's blond and blue, the other's a redhead."

Martinson opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a loud cheer from Arnie.

"Got 'im!" the young doctor shouted.

The others quickly finished up the phone calls they were making and looked expectantly at the doctor from the CDC.

"Dr Vincent Armitage," Arnie announced triumphantly. "Six foot three, slim build, brown hair, brown eyes, very nice man according to the woman I spoke to but isn't that true of all the psycho serial killers? He's a biotechnologist with a speciality in the genetic engineering of viruses to make vaccines. And he's currently on leave for personal reasons which started about a week and a half ago. He lives about three miles from Princeton-Plainsboro. Got the address out of the phone book."

"Call the police," House and Martinson said in unison.

"And take Dr Cameron and get out there," Martinson added. "Tell the police to take every possible precaution. I can't imagine this man will want to be caught."

Arnie nodded and pulled out his cell phone as he and Cameron headed out the door.

"All we can do now is wait," Martinson said into the sudden silence.

The silence stretched again until it was broken by Foreman and House's beepers going off again. Every doctor in the room sighed and exchanged grim and resigned looks. Foreman got up and ran out the door with House limping along after him. House arrived outside Rina Tyler's room just in time to see Chase step back from the woman with a look of helplessness. The young intensivist looked up at the clock and said something to Foreman who nodded grimly in return. Chase saw House standing outside the room and came out.

"Kidney failure again," he said, sounding tired and depressed.

"We've found him," House said in return.

"Foreman told me," Chase replied. "Thank God."

"I'll leave that to you," House said as he turned. "How's the new one?"

"Unconscious," Chase replied. He paused then jogged after House. "We're not going to save her, are we?" he asked once he'd caught up with his boss.

"No," House said bluntly.

Chase sighed and hung his head for a moment. "Damn."

House hesitated for the barest moment then limped on, leaving Chase staring at the floor behind him. Comfort wasn't his forte; he hardly knew how to accept it, let alone give it to someone else. He returned to the conference room to find everyone standing around or sitting at the table and waiting nervously. Martinson was on the phone but was silent and also seemed to be waiting for something. House limped over and sat down at the end of the table, lifting his bad leg up onto one of the empty chairs. He leaned back and rested one hand lightly on his cane, his eyes trained on Martinson.

Twenty minutes later Foreman and Chase came into the conference room and this coincided with Martinson giving a start and listening intently to the phone.

"They're going in," he reported to the room, one hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "The police decided to call in SWAT. They didn't want to take any chances given what Dr Armitage has been doing."

People nodded and made various noises of acknowledgment and the tension in the room increased. The silence stretched out and House tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. His hand clenched around the head of his cane then relaxed. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his pills. The rattle as he opened the lid made several people start and stare at him. House ignored them as he tipped a single pill out and dry swallowed it. He put the lid back on the bottle and shoved it into his pocket. As he did this Martinson tensed then, in a move that seemed quite incongruous for his appearance, he swore fiercely.

"He's gone," he reported in a voice filled with frustration. "The police say it looks like he hasn't been there for at least a week. But there are signs he'd set up and mini-laboratory in his basement. Arnie's had a quick look but wants to have biohazard gear before he does a full examination."

"I'll get that set up and get down there," Carl said with alacrity.

"I'll go with you," Annie said as she jumped to her feet.

The two CDC doctors strode out of the room as Martinson listened to the phone for a moment longer.

"The police are putting out an APB on Dr Armitage's car and the man himself," Martinson said abruptly. "They're going to start checking the hotels and motels. He must be somewhere close."

Martinson nodded and spoke quietly into the phone then hung it up. He gave a frustrated sigh that was echoed by everyone in the room.

"What do we do now?" Chase asked a little helplessly.

"We look after Ms Lopez and hope that he hasn't found a new victim," Martinson said. "Mark and Terry are still sequencing this virus so that's nothing we can do anything about at the moment."

Martinson gave Chase and Foreman, who were both looking very ragged, a sympathetic look. He then raised an eyebrow at House.

House sighed and rolled his eyes. "Go home," he said to his team. "And call Cameron and tell her to do the same."

"What?" Foreman blinked.

"Really?" Chase asked with almost puppy-like plaintiveness.

House glared at him. "Go home. Don't forget to tell Cameron. And don't be late tomorrow."

The two young doctors got to their feet and scurried around collecting their things before almost running out of the conference room. They were clearly wanting to get out of there before House changed his mind. House watched them scurry away with a look of sardonic amusement, something that was partly echoed by the CDC doctors in the room.

House lifted his leg back down from the chair and stood with a wince. "I'd better go and tell Cuddy what's happening."

"I'll keep in touch with the police," Martinson said. "And we'll keep a close eye on Ms Lopez."

House nodded and limped out of the room.

Much to his sheer irritation, House spent much of the rest of the afternoon in the clinic. When he reported the situation to Cuddy, she decided that since they were at a loose end until either another woman was brought in or the police found their mad scientist, House could spend his time in the clinic. He'd tried a number of excuses but Cuddy had been adamant. House had stumped down to the clinic with ill grace and resigned himself to an afternoon filled with idiots.

He'd even been denied the amusement of calling Wilson in for a consult when Cuddy had very sweetly told him that every time he did that, she would be there as well. She'd then made an amused observation that she'd even resort to counting the marks on Dr Wilson's neck if necessary and House made a strategic retreat until he could come up with something sufficiently evil to annoy her with.

He finally signed out just before five and limped up to his office with an expression on his face that just dared anyone to make an issue of his leaving. He checked in with Martinson and was told that Maria Lopez was still hanging on, Arnie was finding all sorts of interesting things at Armitage's house, Cameron had gone home, the sequencing of the virus would likely be finished sometime the next day and that Wilson was waiting in his office. House blinked then turned and limped into his office, prodding Wilson with his cane before grabbing his bag.

"Come on," he said abruptly.

Wilson rubbed at his shoulder where the cane had impacted and picked up his own bag. "I heard you got sent to the clinic," he said with mostly well-hidden amusement. "I didn't get called in for a consult. I think I'm disappointed."

House glared at him as they walked out of office and towards the lifts. "Cuddy hates me," he growled.

"She doesn't hate you," Wilson said mildly as they got in the lift. "She thinks you're a pain in the ass put on this world solely to give her an aneurism but she doesn't hate you."

"She said if I called you in for a consult, she'd be coming along too," House replied.

Wilson chuckled. "Ah, that'd be because she doesn't trust you, not because she hates you."

"She said she'd even count the marks on your neck," House said, amusement flickering in his eyes as they got out of the lift and headed for the carpark.

Wilson blushed and one hand went almost involuntarily to his neck. "I've had a very interesting day," was all he said.

House snickered as they got into his car.

"And Julie called," Wilson continued.

House's snickers stopped and he shot a glance at Wilson as he pulled out of his parking spot. "What did she want?"

"I think she's got a source at the hospital," Wilson replied. "She wasn't very happy about the fact I was…flaunting my new relationship in front of everyone. I think she called you a crippled troll and told me I was insane to get involved with you."

House was silent as he drove the car through the traffic. "She may have a point," he said finally.

Wilson sighed and ran one hand down his face. "Greg, I've been involved with you since before the infarction. Okay, the nature of that involvement has changed recently but doesn't change the fact that I've been a relationship of some description with you for longer than any of my wives. I know what you're like, I know you come with enough baggage to sink a small nation and I know I want this. Okay, maybe that does make me insane but I don't care. After all, it's not like I'm Mr Perfect. I come with a fair amount of baggage myself and that doesn't seem to bother you."

House was silent for a moment then a small smile settled on his face. "Not really," he said and Wilson subtly relaxed. "So who do you think the source is?" House continued.

Wilson sighed. "Who knows? I didn't think Julie knew anyone at the hospital. It's not she really ever came there and she only came to a couple of Board functions."

"Probably one of the nurses," House said as he pulled into his car park. "They've never liked me."

Wilson snorted as they got out of the Corvette. "That's because you seem to take an inordinate amount of delight in scaring the hell out of them. What did you expect?"

"A bit more backbone," House replied as he unlocked the door and limped in. "They're supposed to have more gumption than that. They deal with dying people, after all."

Wilson snorted. "Dying people don't tend to growl at the nurses taking care of them," he said dryly as he hung his coat up and held out a hand for House's.

House snorted but dropped his bag and pulled his jacket off. Once Wilson had hung it up and closed the door, House made his move. He backed the younger man up against the wall and kissed him slowly and deeply. Wilson made an agreeable sound and wrapped his arms around House.

"Well, this is unexpected."

The voice came from behind them. House pulled away and turned in one motion, something that pulled a wince from him as his leg protested the sharp movement. Standing in the middle of the living room was a tall, slender man with brown hair and brown eyes. He seemed calm but there was a feeling of frustrated anger that seemed to almost swirl around him.

Wilson swiftly stepped up beside House and glared at the stranger. "Who the hell are you? And how did you get in here?"

"I believe this is Dr Vincent Armitage," House replied coolly, eying the scientist carefully.

Armitage's eyes narrowed at the correct identification. "Very clever. But that seems to be a theme for you."

"I like to think I'm fairly intelligent," House replied. "What are you doing here?"

Armitage cocked his head to one side. "I was interested in meeting the man who worked out what I was doing so quickly." He stepped forward and pulled a syringe out of his pocket. "Now, Dr House, you will go and sit down here while your…friend can sit down over there."

House and Wilson paused as they both internally debated whether to obey. Armitage slowly uncapped the syringe and gestured towards them.

"I'm sure you have an idea of what's in here," he said calmly. "If you don't obey me, you'll end up the same way as those stupid women."

House looked over at Wilson and nodded once. He then limped over to the armchair Armitage had indicted while Wilson slowly walked over to the chair that was near the piano. Armitage gave them a chill smile then walked over and plucked House's cane from his hand. He threw it into the corner of the room then walked over to Wilson, reaching into his pocket again.

"I think we'll make sure you can't spoil things," he said to Wilson as he pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. He held the syringe on Wilson's shoulder and he closed one end of the handcuffs around the doctor's right wrist. He then attached the other end to the back of the chair and stepped back. He placed the cap back on the syringe and tucked it back into his pocket. He then sat down on the couch and made himself comfortable before looking over at House with a great deal of interest.

"So, Dr House, tell what it is I'm supposed to be doing?" Armitage asked as he stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles.

House was silent for a moment then he shot a quick glance at Wilson before answering.

"You've engineered a virus using the Human Immunodeficiency Virus and something that mimics Lesch-Nyhan disorder," House said coldly. "You're using Rohypnol to subdue young women then injecting them with your virus after which you let them die."

Anger flitted across Armitage's face before he calmed himself. "Very good. So tell me, since you are apparently so very clever, why am I doing this?"

"Because you contracted HIV from a young woman," House said bluntly. "For some reason you can't get to her, so you're taking your anger out on any convenient target that you can find." He sneered. "Very brave of you. So frightened of dying you want to take as many people with you as you can."

Rage seemed to grip Armitage and he sprang out of his chair. He leapt towards House and belted him across the face. House's head snapped to one side as he jerked in his chair. Wilson swore and leapt towards Armitage, dragging the chair rather painfully behind him. He came to a sudden halt when Armitage yanked the syringe out of his pocket again. The scientist prowled over to Wilson and forced him back towards where he had been sitting. He reached around Wilson and set the chair on its legs.

"Sit. Down," he said in a very dangerous tone. "If you get up again, I will inject the contents of this syringe into Dr House."

Wilson paled and nodded. He looked past the scientist looming over him to see House wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth. The older man's face looked set and Wilson could see the pain lingering in House's eyes.

"I'm fine, James," House said irritably as he hitched himself up in the armchair.

Wilson relaxed slightly at House's tone of voice. If he was talking like that then he was fine. House got angry and childish when he was badly hurt, not simply irritated.

Armitage eyed Wilson for a bit longer then he put the syringe back into his pocket. He turned on his heel and walked back over to the couch. He sat back down and again affected that casual pose though the tension in his shoulders indicated he was anything but.

"Well, that was all very clever of you, Dr House," he said tightly. "Now answer this question for me. Why should I let you live?"

"Why should you kill me?" House countered as Wilson drew in a sharp breath.

Armitage gave him a very chilling smile. "Well, I suppose I could say something very profound about an eye for an eye except that has more to do with the women than you. And I could say something along the lines of eliminating the one who has worked out what I'm up to except I'm sure you've told this to more than one person. So it really comes down to something along the lines of anger and revenge for spoiling my plans."

"That's very petty of you," House observed. "Not what I'd expect of a scientist of your calibre."

A muscle in Armitage's cheek twitched and irritation flared in his eyes. "Where is it written that the intelligent and talented always have to act in a noble and self-sacrificing manner?" he said bitterly. "She gave me AIDS! She sentenced me to a slow and lingering death and then went and got herself killed in a car accident. She died quickly! I can't get my revenge on her so why shouldn't I take it out on others? Don't women always call themselves sisters?"

House's eyes widened momentarily and he glanced over at Wilson. The oncologist was looking at Armitage with undisguised horror. Wilson's gaze tracked over to House and both of them could see the same thing in each other's eyes. The scientist was quite likely angry and crazy enough to kill them both without giving a damn as to the consequences. He was going to die anyway, if it was sooner rather than later then what did it matter. A man with no fear of dying was far more dangerous than any other.