A/N: Happy Valentine's Day. Here's another chapter. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Three

That night, when Cameron arrived at ten to get ready for her shift, she saw a motorcycle fly past her and slide in one of the handicapped spaces. She got out and started to walk toward the side entrance. House called out to her and she stopped at the door.

"On time tonight, Boss," he said with a cheeky grin. His helmet was tucked under one arm and a backpack hung from his shoulder. She smiled at him and noticed his cane had flames on the end of it.

"Nice cane," she remarked as she walked in.

He waggled his eyebrows and smirked. "If I know what you mean."

Cameron shook her head and greeted the guard before putting her bag down on the table and walking through the metal detector. Behind her, House did the same. The guard did a cursory search through their bags and put them on the table on the other side. They grabbed their things and headed for the employee locker rooms. Cameron changed into her scrubs, put her bag and clothes away before taking a quick look at herself in the mirror. For some reason, she wanted to look nice. Satisfied, she shoved her phone in her pocket and headed to the ER. House was already there talking to a woman they referred to as a "frequent flyer." She came in several times each month complaining of various aches and pains.

"I think it's broken," she said as she held her foot out for him to see.

"You said you dropped something on it?" he said as he examined her bare foot closely. It was quite bruised but he wasn't convinced it was broken since she was able to walk on it.

"Yes, some heavy ceramic bowls. My hands were wet and I dropped them on my foot the other day."

"But you can walk on it," he said it as more of a statement than a question. "Can you wiggle or move your toes without pain?"

She did just that and it affirmed House's belief that it wasn't broken. "Do you drink a lot of milk? Or take vitamin D supplements?"

"Yes, I drink milk, but I don't see what that has to do with anything. Look at it! It's black and blue!"

"The calcium in milk strengthens bones. To make a long story short, your toe isn't broken because your bones are strong from all the milk you drink. If it was broken, you wouldn't be able to touch it, move it or even walk on it without extreme pain. And since I don't see a cane or crutches, that tells me all I need to know."

"But.."

"What?" He snapped as he looked at her file. "You've been here three times this month already. Do yourself or us a favor and just go to a clinic next time. We don't have time for this. The ER is for real emergencies."

"Well, I never!" she hissed as she got down off the bed and stormed out, barely limping, which made House grin as he watched.

"What was that about?" Cameron asked him.

"Munchausen's," he said with a cheeky grin. "Or she's just a lonely hypochondriac."

"Could be both. We see her all the time. We call her our frequent flyer."

"Great. Next!" he called out and wandered to triage to get the next patient.

The next week, he got a break from the ER and worked in the clinic, once again with Cameron.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were babysitting me," he said to her during a lull between patients.

"Maybe I am. I just want to make sure you get through your probation."

"And if I do?"

"When you do," she corrected him, "the sky's the limit. We took a chance on you because we needed more doctors and because Amber gave you a glowing recommendation."

House blinked twice. "She did? Seriously?"

Cameron's eyes narrowed. "Did you put her up to that?"

"Please," House scoffed, "I had better things to do than rig an interview."

"She told me you were having a hard time finding work. Also, she told me that you were amazing with diagnosing patients."

"Well yeah, there's that," House said with a charming smile.

"So you're board certified in Infectious Diseases, I get that, but why Nephrology?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I wanted a specialty while I worked toward the Infectious Diseases one."

"And you knew Dr. Cuddy?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. She was almost sorry she brought it up, as it seemed to be a sore spot.

"At Michigan State, yeah. Years ago."

"But she was the attending physician when you came here with your infarction…"

"Look, do we need to go through this?" he snapped at her. "You already know, clearly, so why are you asking me?"

Cameron blinked and stepped back. The sudden anger was radiating off of him and it was a little scary. She was beginning to understand why he was having a hard time keeping a job.

"I'm sorry. I was just curious."

House glared at her as he grabbed a file from the desk and wandered off to call on his next patient. Cameron felt bad for the rest of the shift but she tried not to take it personally. It was her fault for bringing it up but after all she'd heard about it, she was merely curious about what really happened. All she had to go on were rumors.

When their two hour shift in the clinic ended, they headed down to the ER. The woman with the sore foot was there and House groaned.

"She's back," he griped.

Cameron's assistant, Tyler, approached them. "You've got a patient complaint about Doctor House. Mrs. Woods says he was rude and dismissive. Considering who's complaining, I didn't send her up to the Dean," he said.

"Thanks," Cameron told him. "Any real emergencies?"

"Nothing we can't handle," he responded and walked back to the desk.

"I like him," House commented. "He's logical, scientific, efficient and doesn't get mired down in needless emotions."

"Sounds like you," Cameron grinned. "I better go see Mrs. Woods. Hopefully I can keep her from going upstairs. Last thing you need is a strike."

House watched her approach the old woman. Woods was annoying as hell but there was something about her that tugged at his brain. He decided to pull up all her charts and contact the other hospitals in the area. If she was a frequent flyer here, she was probably one at all the others.

An hour later, after stitching up a toddler who got hold of his mother's kitchen shears and tried to groom the family cat who responded badly, House grabbed a computer stand and started his search through Mrs. Woods' records. He already contacted the other emergency rooms in the area and the files were in his email folder. As he combed through all of it, a pattern began to emerge. When he was done, he went looking for Cameron. He found her with a patient and waited for her to finish.

"Hey," she said when she saw him.

"We need to get our frequent flyer back here."

She frowned. "Why? I placated her. She's not going to complain to the Dean. You just have to stay away from her."

"Can't do it," he told her leaning on his cane. "I think she has variably protease-sensitive prionopathy. It explains all her symptoms including dropping bowls on her foot. She's the right age and has a history of dementia in her family."

"Doctor House," she said softly pulling him toward an empty bay. "If you're right, she'll die."

"If you get her in here and test her, then there are medications we can give her and get her into a care facility. She'll still die but she won't die alone. Come on, Doctor Cameron, what have you got to lose? If I'm wrong, the hospital can bill her insurance for a butt load of money. If I'm right, well, the hospital can bill her insurance for a butt load of money."

Cameron sighed. "I'll have Tyler call her."

XXX

A week later, Mrs. Woods was diagnosed with variably protease-sensitive prionopathy.

Cameron called House into her office after the diagnosis. Once he was seated, she leaned forward in her chair.

"How did you know?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I went over all her files from here and other hospitals. She didn't remember going to the other ER's and didn't remember coming here when she went elsewhere. Her age, family history, complaints of being tired all the time…" he looked at her. "Do I need to go on?"

She shook her head. "No one else thought to do what you did. We all just saw an old woman who complained. We thought she was just lonely. Turns out she's married and has two sons. The sons and grand-kids are getting tested."

"That all, Boss?"

"For now."

He began to whistle as he grabbed a chart and made his way to the waiting room.