The brunette girl is lying in an empty hospital room, with the unfamiliar sounds of her monitor beeping, but otherwise silence. Her long curly hair is up in a ponytail, her crop top and black jeans traded for an ordinary hospital gown. She looks down at her body—"A remnant of my former self." She chuckles a little and plays with her belly button ring like she always does when she's nervous.

A pretty brown haired doctor pulls open the door and stands by the foot of the bed.

"Hello Marissa, I'm Dr. Hadley. One of five doctors working on your case, actually."

She gives a little smirk. "That makes me feel special."

Thirteen, not amused, asks, "Have you been through any trauma lately? Accidents, rape, beatings?" She put a little bit of emphasis on the last word.

"Nope, my life is peachy keen that way. I got it pretty good."

The doctor rolls her eyes and lowers her voice, trying to sound a little kinder. "Then how did you get those scars on your waist?"

The girl sighs, not really wanting to discuss this with this stranger. "Some guys need something to hold onto while they're doing their thing. Scratchers, I call them. Over time, they leave the marks there for good."

"And the black eye?"

"So I screwed up last night. I hate the lollipops he makes us eat. I asked him if I could skip it, and that's what I got. He doesn't mind doing it, it doesn't hurt the business. "

Thirteen looks perplexed. "What does that mean?"

"Lady—sorry—Dr. Hadley, look at me for a second. I have two D cups, a 32 inch waist, and 43 inch hips. I have a belly ring and wear that sack of trash outfit over there. Who the hell do you think is looking at my face when they see me?"

A familiar pattern of movement begins to wash over the poor girl yet again, and Thirteen yells outside quite calmly, "Another 4 mg Ativan."

In the meantime, Taub, Foreman, and Kutner are sitting in the conference room, wondering profusely what the holdup is.

"We were supposed to take the girl to Radiology half an hour ago. Where the hell is Thirteen?" Taub has been complaining pretty regularly ever since the clock struck 10:01.

"Here the hell I am. Sorry for the delay, but I sort of had to help a patient through her eighth damn seizure of the day. But really, I'll try harder next time," the female doctor replys angrily. She collapses into a chair and puts her disheveled hair into a ponytail.

"I'll bet fifty bucks it's a brain tumor. What else could it be that's giving her seizure after seizure?" announces Kutner proudly.

Foreman jumps on it: "It's always something else. I'll take that bet." They shake hands, with Foreman laughing inside at Kutner's naivety.

The two walk off to Marissa's room.

Meanwhile:

Cameron glances out of the corner of her eye a crippled shadow moving as quickly as he could towards the clinic. She knows that limp anywhere, and she begins to power walk at a speed that's easily twice as fast as his. He turns a corner and she follows.

"House, I—"

She stops dead in her tracks. She's met with the piercing blue eyes of both House and Cuddy who were obviously about to be engaged in a deep conversation.

"Why, hello Dr. Cameron! Come to finally admit that you want your old job back, or to help me come up with another cool pet name for Cuddy's boobs? Either way, I'm glad you're here!" His voice was as sarcastic as usual. Although, it wasn't totally a lie—Cuddy had pulled House over and he knew what she wanted to talk about. Even more, he knew that he didn't want to talk back.

"Neither option, thank you very much. I was just coming to ask about your new patient," she replied nervously.

"How do you know I have a new patient?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, I don't," she admitted, "I just assumed because I was secretly coming here to profess my love to you and I thought Cuddy might be jealous, so I had to come up with an excuse." Interesting how the secret truth can pass for a lie, she thought.

"You've been buddying up with Foreman again, I guess. Did he tell you she's my hooker?"

Cameron and Cuddy both raised their eyebrows. Cuddy responded with a simple, "I don't think Dr. Cameron needs to know anything more about this. Neither do I, but you're coming into my office now to discuss your latest clinic—problems."

They hurried away, and Cameron, totally unfulfilled, made her way back to the ER. House's hooker, she thought. She must have some interesting stories. Maybe I should go talk to her! She couldn't help but laugh to herself.