"Where's Foreman?"

The lone question had come from Wilson as he walked thought the glass door

House responded by flipping to another page of his magazine. "Foreman is out trying to prove me wrong."

Wilson leaned against the set of filing cabinets and crossed his arms. "Does he have something?"

House scoffed, "It's not from grandma's house."

"Then why did you let him go?"

"When he comes back with nothing, I get to do the victory dance."

"And I take it that the rest of your team is doing labs?"

"They know that at 3:59 I turn into a pumpkin."

"Is that why they working like you strapped a bomb under their chair?"

House pulled his bottle of pills from his pocket and dry swallowed one. "They're running every blood screen and culture they can think of. So far they've found nothing. I'm out of here by four."

"You know I'll stick around for that."

"You want to hear the results too?"

"No, I want to see an asshole turn into a pumpkin."

House gave Wilson a sidelong glance from his magazine as Cameron rushed through the glass doors.

"House, the kid, he's missing."

House finally pulled away from his magazine to fully face Cameron. "What, do you think I'm hiding him?"

The blunt force question flagged Cameron's urgency for a moment before she turned back out the door and rushed back into the hallway and out of sight.

House grabbed his jacket and started putting it on as he turned to Wilson and added as though the interruption just seconds before had not occurred, "Did you know Cuddy has a new boyfriend?"

"Wait a second," Wilson sputtered as he watched House pull his nap sack over his shoulder, "you're not leaving are you? You still have nearly an hour left."

House palmed his cane as he reasoned, "While those two are out looking for our little social deviant, nobody's testing. I know they won't get done by four; I'm going home." He opened his glass door. "So, what do you know about Cuddy's boyfriend?"

Wilson frowned as he followed close behind. "How would I know if she had a boyfriend? And how do you?"

"She's like you," he indicated Wilson's light blue shirt and coordinating tie, "Dresses professionally until she has someone to impress." Wilson shook his but House kept going, "Monday her new dress was 110 proof." He reached the elevator doors and pressed with his cane before turning around, "Today she's got something bright pink on.

Wilson shook his head again. "It's spring. She's buying new clothes for the season."

"Not clothes like these, and not with her calendar blocked off after 4:30 with no reason." The elevator doors opened.

Wilson cringed at House's last word and held back instead of following House in. Then something caught his eye. "Is that you patient back there?"

House leaned out of the elevator and followed Wilson's gaze down the corridor to an adolescent wandering much further down the hall barefoot and in a hospital gown. He looked this way and that as if frantically lost or searching. A few moments later he rounded the far corner. "Do you think there's a cash reward out for him yet?" He ducked back into the elevator.

Wilson sighed and went into pursuit of the youth, leaving House as the doors closed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Something was really wrong. Out of the elevator, Jason weaved though swarming of people. He had defiantly gotten up too quickly. The sides of his head rushed with pressure and noise.

Marshall, in actual clothes and shoes quickly passed him in pursuit of the man he'd seen everywhere. His 'stalker' as Marshall had put it over and over again in the elevator had entered a lift. Marshall was absolutely certain it was to the second floor. Several yards ahead of Jason, Marshall turned to meet Jason's eyes; then he pointed further up ahead of him… there.

As though out of the starting gate, Marshall shot forward after him. Jason followed suite. Jason again saw the problem with no shoes as he made a wide turn at the corner and a wave of nausea set in. "Wait up!"

He leaned against the wall and could not help but to pant as he searched the foot traffic. A quick search for jerseys, sneakers, anything that looked like Marshall turned up nothing. Where did he go? The thought reverberated in his head amidst the other background noises. He glanced over his shoulder and searched the busy hallway full of unfamiliar faces. Then he turned back. Marshall was there just seconds earlier.

"Excuse me," called a voice from behind, you're not supposed to be out here."

Jason turned to see a towering man coming up to him. His expression was not a happy one. With his blue shirt, the dark tie, the badge on his chest, it could only be one thing. "Officer, the man's here! We just saw him." He pointed the direction he last saw Marshall. "They went this way." He started back in that direction…

Until his hand was grabbed. "I think you need to go back to your room," the officer said.

Jason grunted. "No! He's here! We have to catch him." He tore his hand free and jogged up the further into the hall. "He went this way. We have to find Marshall." He turned the corner and spotted Marshall's jersey amongst the sea of other people. "There's Marshall!" He pointed as he turned back to the officer.

After watching silently for a long moment, the officer finally opened his mouth. "Jason, where's Marshall?"

The question was not what he was expecting. "He's right there."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Where? Point him out to me." Wilson watched with fascination as Jason failingly gestured into the empty dead end corridor of offices.

"He's right here, come on, officer, the man went this way too."

"Jason," Wilson tried again, "There's nobody here but us."

There's wasn't even the slightest acknowledgement of understanding, not hesitation at the words, Jason shot back around and cried, "He went this way. Come on!"

Wilson watched as the youth started forward again and fell. His body waved under a seizure. Rote training gripped Wilson as he yelled down the other side of the hall, "Call a code!" Then he twisted back to youth whose fit had nearly passed and uttered: "What is going on in your brain?"