Disclaimer: I don't own House or Gilmore Girls (sad to say). But I love both shows.

Dr. Gregory House sighed in irritation at the thought of having to spend time in the Clinic. Anyone who knew him knew that he hated the Clinic. Stupid people with stupid, lame illnesses. There was no mystery about these people or their illnesses. Most could be seen by interns. So why did he have to do it?

House spotted Dr. Lisa Cuddy, his boss and nemesis. As per Lisa Cuddy, she was wearing a low-cut blouse that was snug to show off her figure. She was also wearing a thigh-length skirt and a white overcoat. All the doctors were supposed to wear overcoats, but House was a rebel. No coats for him. Didn't want people to think he was a doctor.

"Dr. House! I'm surprised to see you in the clinic, on time for once," commented Cuddy as House limped over to the counter.

"I was coming to tell you that I can't do it today. I don't think I'm feeling well. Definitely not feeling up to seeing patients." House gave her a small sickly look. Which, of course, Cuddy wasn't buying.

"Patient in Exam 2. And I don't want you to be in and out, like you usually do. If I see you come out of that exam room in less than 10 minutes, I will give you double Clinic hours." She handed him the folder and smiled a sarcastic sweet smile.

House hobbled to Exam 2, and took a deep breath. Opening the door he spotted a woman of about 35 sitting on the exam table. She had long dark brown hair and clear blue eyes, almost as icy blue as his were. She was wearing a black and blue shirt that read "Tom Waits! I'll have your baby!" which made House grin. He was starting to think that this patient might not be so bad.

He was wrong.

"Good morning, I'm Dr. House." House sat down in a chair next to the exam room sink. He flipped through the file which indicated why she was here. "So, Mrs.-"

"Ms."

"Ms. Gilmore. Why are you here?"

"Well, my daughter Rory and I were on a road trip to find the world's largest Hot Dog. And this town was one of our destinations."

House smiled in spite of himself. "No, I mean, what brings you into the hospital?"

"Oh! My throat is sore."

"Sore throat. Yes, that's what you wrote down on the medical chart. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Sure. It's really, really sore."

House looked at her as if maybe she was insane. She seemed to be really serious. House found his euphoria start to fade away. He looked at his watch. Darn, still 7 minutes to go until I can kick her out of here.

"Okay. Really, really sore. I really, really got that. Can you describe the soreness?"

"Well, it's painful."

"Painful?"

"Yes, painful. But not the good kind of pain. The bad kind."

"The bad kind?" House grabbed his bottle of Vicodin and popped a few into his mouth. He felt like he was in some comedy routine.

"Yeah. The good kind of pain is like how your throat feels after shouting yourself hoarse after a really great concert. This isn't it."

Popping a couple more Vicodin, he put the pills away. Slowly, not really wanting to deal with the patient, he asked, "Can you describe the bad pain in you throat?"

Tilting her head to the side, Ms. Gilmore sat and pondered. "Describe it? Well, it feels like it would if miniature men had thrown me down. And one of them jumped on my chest and was trying to strangle me. But seeing as he's small, he doesn't have the strength to actually kill me. So it's really just a dull thud."

House was sure this woman was on something. "A dull thud. So it's throbbing?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

Happy to finally be getting somewhere with this, he started to make notations on the medical chart. "So when did you notice it?"

"Notice what?"

"The miniature men on your chest."

"Huh?"

"The soreness. When did you notice it?" If he were to go crazy, he was sure this was the reason why.

"Oh! The soreness. Well, I noticed it when it began to hurt."

Closing his eyes in exasperation, House asked, "When did you notice that the soreness in your neck began to hurt?"

"Well, Rory and I had been watching this hot dog eating contest. Which inspired our road trip. Anyway, this guy ate 49 hot dogs in 12 minutes. So Rory and I wanted to see how many we could eat. And one of the hot dogs got lodged so we had to Heimlich it out. After that is when I discovered the pain."

Looking at his watch, notice that he had two minutes left with this patient. Just keep her talking for two minutes. And then she's gone.

"Okay, Ms. Gilmore. Let's look down your throat."

Looking inside her throat, House saw that it was extremely red. As he stuck the tongue depressor down her throat, Ms. Gilmore tried to say something. Doesn't this woman ever shut up? Pulling the depressor out, House asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if people ever tell you that you don't look like a doctor."

"Yes, which is why I dress this way. Well, Ms. Gilmore, your throat is red." Grabbing his prescription pad, he wrote a prescription for her. "Here, take this. Also, I would recommend that you don't talk for awhile. Try for a couple of hours."

"Will that lessen the pain?"

"Yes, for us both. Bye."

House waked out the door. Threw the medical folder on the counter. Cuddy looked up at him. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

House looked at her. If looks could kill, she knew she would be dead.