Randomly dedicated to Rolling Thunder 420 for her reviews. They make me feel warm and fuzzy. (:

Toxicity

Scrawling over the white board, the squeak of House's marker was the only sound above breathing in the office. Cameron, Chase and Foreman were all seated to the back of the room, absentmindedly staring holes through the desk before them or checking watches every five seconds, just to see if the second had forgotten to tick by. Alas, every second fell past. Another one they would never relive.

Apart from his Ducklings, there were two abnormalities in the office. The first was Lisa Cuddy. She was leaning against the edge of the desk, looking down at herself now and again to check if her shirt was a little too open for the matter at hand. Cuddy was incredibly behind on schedule, and would probably fall asleep at her desk as a result, but felt an almost motherly instinct to keep an eye on the group until the brief was over. By 'group', she was mainly concentrating on Dr. House and the second abnormality: Wilson.

Wilson didn't look like he would be catching sleep anywhere, let alone his office. It wasn't even 24 hours since his ex-wife was admitted into the hospital and already he looked like he'd gone a week on the town. He didn't look good, and Cuddy was mainly hovering around to snap at the slightest chance to send him home. He needed some rest, yet, at the same time, she simply couldn't bear to dismiss him from such a case.

"Okay," House said at last, scratching his neck with the base of the pen. "Here we have a thirty-nine year old female. Osteoporosis, loss of hair, lack of muscle control and acute vomiting. The nurses have a bet on when she's going to cough up her small intestine."

Cuddy saw Wilson wince at the crude comment before sinking lower into his chair. She sighed, which gained no more than a quirked eyebrow from House. She could tell already... this wasn't going to end happily.

"In the three seconds she stopped showing us what she had for dinner last night, she said she said her vision was blurred and a headache."

House began to tap the pen against his teeth, now pointedly ignoring both the abnormalities in his office. He hadn't asked either of them to be there, and if they didn't like the suffering House would hold the door open for them.

Well... no. He wouldn't. Put the point still stood.

"Differential diagnosis. Hit me." He gestured to his Ducklings, all of whom seemed incredibly sombre. The news that this was Wilson's first wife had leaked from a set of loose lips and now not one of the three were making eye contact with the Oncologist. It didn't seem to matter at all to Wilson, however – he was staring at his shoes.

"Menopause would explain the Osteoporosis, as well as the hair. Stress." Foreman offered, shifting uneasily in his chair. Usually he would be in his element as this case looked easier than the last batch they had dealt with, but the presence of the Dean and the ex-husband was making him want to hide in the cafeteria for a week or two.

"Is she vomiting up her excess hormones?" House shot back quickly, giving Foreman his 'I'm not impressed. You're a jerk' look.

"Okay, come on, what else." House looked to Cameron and Chase, both of whom had found a fixating new interest in the floor. A sharp bang against the floor from House's cane jerked them both back to reality, and the owner of said cane rolled his eyes.

"Drugs?" Chase offered, looking both hopeful and nervous about his words. "To help the hormone levels of the menopause."

"Her body didn't take to it, trying to throw it back up." Cameron chipped in, "Literally."

"Yeah, could explain the lack of muscle control. The drug could be--"

"No, no, no!" House sucked his teeth, exasperation showing through in his voice. "She's too young. We can check the hormone levels, make sure, but they'll just prove you wrong. This isn't the menopause. Not unless it changed from when I last observed."

"Last time you 'observed'," It was Wilson who piped up, his voice weak. He didn't look like he'd be up for much of a fight, yet still found strength enough to make a dig. "Spandex was still in style."

Cocking his head, House put a hand behind his ear, as if trying to hear better.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that a jibe? Gee, well, just distracting me from my job, Jimmy-boy. Don't worry. We can put this off until she starts vomiting blood, move onto someth--"

"House." Cuddy interjected, tones giving him a warning. "Shut up."

"Aww, he started it." House was still bickering, now speaking in an imitation of a child. Cuddy refused to reply, crossing her arms instead, and he slowly turned back to the job at hand.

"What about Toxicity?" Foreman spoke suddenly, breaking the ice that had soon formed between the coworkers. "Toxicity of the Liver brought about by... Acute Hep-C."

"Cirrhosis..." Wilson muttered, shaking his head. House, as usual, ignored it and concentrated on what Foreman was saying. It would make sense – the headache and vomiting could be part of the flu-like symptoms that accompanied Hep-C. The hair loss, though, and blurred vision? Could that really be stress, and what about the Osteoporosis? If she really was going through the menopause, meaning he was wrong instead of his Ducklings, that could explain away both other symptoms.

"Okay, Acute Hep-C. We want a check on the menopause situation, first. If it's positive, give her the old cocktail of interferon alpha and ribavirin and we're away!"

Shoving the pen back into its rightful place, House hobbled to the door that adjoined the two rooms, exiting quickly.

"Well, I'm glad that's sorted." Wilson's words were bitter as he stood and made for the door. Before the door had even swung close again, Cuddy was following in his footsteps.

"I'll schedule the hormone testing." Cameron muttered, checking her watch again. "Foreman, you and Chase organize the cocktail."

Chase frowned, sitting a little straighter.

"But we... we'll have to wait for the test results."

"No. It'll be positive. Give her the damned drugs as soon as you can, just to stop Wilson moping around here. I can do the test after and lie my ass off about it."

With that sentence lingering in the air, the Immunologist struggled up from her seat and pulled open the office door, quite relieved when she was swept away by the torrents of people all rushing by.

"Jeez," Chase raised a hand to the back of his neck as he spoke to Foreman, trying to rub the ache away. "She's even starting to act like House."