Kitty and Cuddy made a trip to the bathroom last as long as it possibly could, stopping to talk to a few other people they recognised on the way there and back. By the time they were making their way back to the tables, meals had been cleared and the band had begun playing. A few people were out on the dance floor already, much to Kitty's relief. Now she could table-hop to any vacant space on the pretence of catching up with someone. She couldn't wait to sit down. Her headache was fast becoming a full-blown migraine and she was getting breathless in the way that sometimes foreshadowed an angina attack. She figured that all the stress of the evening, plus Miranda's outburst, had been enough to trigger one. Two in one day was a record for her.

Kitty looked around for House, realising she hadn't had a chance to speak to him since his speech, but he was nowhere to be seen. She'd have to find him soon if her chest pain got any worse – he still had her Nitrostat in his pocket.

Her scan of the room had told her that Miranda was back at their table. She and her brother were both sitting alone, gazing at the dancers, blankly expressionless. For the first time, Kitty wondered what sort of parenting they'd had. They were two very disturbed – and very disturbing – individuals. What sort of father had Andrew been? Denis was weak and socially inept; he went through life failing at anything he tried his hand to, careless and blundering. Miranda was bitter and unhappy; the amount of plastic surgery she'd had showed that her self-esteem must be close to zero. Neither of them was married or had any significant relationships that Kitty was aware of.

"Like the speech?" Kitty smiled with relief when she heard House's voice from behind her.

Both women turned around and Kitty couldn't help breaking out into a broad smile when she saw his smug grin. "You were wonderful," she said, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He hugged her briefly, holding her to him to whisper in her ear. "Did you see who was at our table?" House asked, under his breath, his distaste evident.

"Yeah."

"I behaved," House said, his voice clipped, "but only just."

"I noticed." Kitty gave him a grateful squeeze, but when she lifted her arm up to embrace him, it felt weak and achy. A shooting pain ran from her shoulder to her elbow and she stepped back with a little catch of her breath.

Cuddy was smiling broadly at them and she gave a short laugh before learning up to give House a peck on the cheek too. "You actually gave a proper speech, House. I thought I'd never live to see the day," she said with another laugh.

House gave a pleased grin. "Neither did I."

"Maybe this PRC thing will actually be good for you," Cuddy said.

"Don't get any ideas, Cuddy. I'm not going into public speaking."

"Just as well, you're mostly really crap at it."

"What, you think I have bad diction?" House said, clearly baiting.

Without warning, Kitty felt the room dip around her and a wave of nausea sweep over her. She thrust out a hand to steady herself as she took a staggering step, and both House and Cuddy reached out to grab hold of her.

"Are you okay?" Cuddy asked.

Kitty frowned. "I'm . . . fine," she said, but as the words left her mouth she became aware of a searing pain, her chest was on fire, the burn radiating down her arm, taking away her breath. She doubled over, clutching her chest.

House stepped closer to her, wrapping an arm around her back, steering her towards an empty chair. "Sit down. Is it angina? It's only been a few hours since you had one, but do you need another pill?" He sat down in the chair next to her and grabbed her wrist with one hand to check her pulse, reaching inside his jacket pocket for her tablets with the other.

Kitty shook her head, unable to breathe enough to talk. If it was angina it was the worst attack she'd ever had.

"She said she had a bad headache earlier." Kitty heard Cuddy's voice, and the note of anxiety in it.

Kitty could sense that she'd attracted the attention of the guests around her. She knew she should be embarrassed by that, but there were so many things going on in her body that she couldn't find room for it. Her head felt like it was splitting open in the worst migraine she'd ever had while her stomach churned. Her chest felt like it was in a rapidly tightening vise, and she was finding it harder and harder to draw breath.

She heard the rattle of pills and House curtly explaining her angina condition to Cuddy.

Then Steve's voice cut through and she felt his hand on her neck. "Catherine? How are you doing, sweetie? I did tell you not to go getting yourself in a state," he tut-tutted. "Her pulse is sluggish," he said to House, and Kitty was vaguely aware of thinking that if she was going to have a heart attack, it was probably not a bad idea to do it in a room full of doctors.

"Yeah, so no more nitro," House said, his voice cutting through the babble around her. "Wait a minute; she said she had a headache too?"

Kitty opened her eyes to find House barely inches from her face, looking at her intently.

"Did you take anything else today? Anything for your headache? Anything for the stress?"

"I gave her some Tylenol in the bathroom just now, I saw her take it." Cuddy was leaning in just behind him.

"Her pulse is getting weaker and thready," Steve said. For some reason, hearing Steve's voice was reassuring. "Catherine?" he asked. "Did you take anything? Anything to help you get through the day?"

Kitty thought back to her glass of wine, to the bitter, chalky taste. She realised now what it tasted like. Like medication. "My wine . . ." she gasped.

"But—" House began.

Kitty heard nothing more as her chest imploded. Pain, more pain than she'd ever felt, ripped through her. She was vaguely aware of falling off the chair, of arms catching her before she hit the ground. Then, nothing.

-

-

"Fuck, she doesn't have a pulse, she's had an MI," House said frantically, searching for a pulse in her neck with one hand while his other supported her as she crumpled into his and Grosvenor's arms.

Grosvenor took most of her weight and helped lower her to floor. As soon as she was laid flat he and Cuddy pounced on her, desperately applying CPR. House wanted to push them out of the way and do it himself, but was rational enough to realise that doing so would waste precious seconds and that Cuddy and Grosvenor were more than qualified. Instead he grabbed his cell phone and dialled 911, handing it to one of the bystanders and telling them to get an ambulance.

"Someone go tell the hotel to get those paramedics in here the instant they arrive," House barked to the crowd that had gathered. "And if they have a portable defibrillator in their first aid kit, it might come in handy about now."

House felt every second tick past as he watched Cuddy blow into Kitty's mouth and Grosvenor pound on her sternum. Each time they stopped to check her pulse and Cuddy shook her head, House felt like his own heart was being slowly torn into pieces. After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two, a uniformed hotel employee pushed through the crowd, carrying a large first aid bag.

"I'm the first aid officer for the hotel, give me some space," he said, trying to push House out of the way.

"Medical school trumps fucking first aid course," House said, using his cane to hit the guy in the shins hard enough for him to lose his balance. He dropped the kit and House grabbed it, kneeling awkwardly on the floor to open it up.

Without warning Wilson appeared at his side, helping to open up the kit and get the adhesive shock pads organised. House nudged Grosvenor from his position over Kitty's chest. As Wilson ripped the cover off, the portable defibrillator began its recorded instructions, a composed male voice explaining the workings of the machine.

"Help me get her dress down," House said, before the voice had even begun to explain to remove the patient's clothing; no thought in his mind for anything other than the desperate need to get Kitty's heart beating again. Together he and Grosvenor lifted her torso so House could undo her zip and then reach around her back to unclasp her bra.

Wilson put the adhesive pads in place just as the stupid recorded voice from the defibrillator unit mechanically told them how to apply them. It made House want to smash it with his cane – except for the fact that it was the only thing between Kitty and waiting even more precious minutes for the paramedics and their non-talkie defibrillator to arrive.

"Clear," Wilson said, doing a quick scan around Kitty's body to make sure everyone was away from her before pressing the yellow button that, House noted, had a very helpful lightning bolt printed on it.

Kitty shuddered from the shock.

Cuddy checked Kitty's pulse at her neck again. "Nothing." She shook her head.

"Do it again," House said, urgently, unnecessarily.

"Clear," Wilson said again.

Once again he pressed the button to deliver the shock and Kitty's body arced.

"Be sure emergency services have been called. It is safe to touch the patient." House realised it was the machine's way of informing them that it had detected a pulse. He sent a desperate glance to Cuddy.

"Yes, it's weak and thready, but it's there," Cuddy said in response to House's unasked question.

Wilson grabbed a glittery shawl from a nearby chair and threw it over Kitty, hiding her naked chest. Cuddy and Grosvenor sat back on their heels, both taking in deep breaths, Cuddy keeping her fingers on Kitty's neck to monitor her pulse.

After a moment of silence in which the whole room seemed to take a breath, House exhaled loudly. "What the hell just happened?" His stomach felt as if it had been filled with lead.

"Why did she go into cardiac arrest?" Wilson added.

House shook his head, baffled. "She had an angina attack earlier and she was stressed. But she seemed fine just before this happened."

"It seemed to come on suddenly," Steve Grosvenor added. "Are you sure she didn't take anything? A drug interaction—"

"Christ," House swore. He reached into his jacket pocket, a sudden, overwhelming dread gripping him as he remembered slipping his other prescription into his pocket too. Could he have given her the wrong pills? He pulled out the Nitrostat and shook his head. No, he was sure he'd given her the nitroglycerine. Besides, Kitty would have noticed.

"House!" Cuddy interrupted. "I saw someone touching her wine glass," she said, running a hand through her hair in her agitation. "Maybe they—"

"What? Who?" House turned sharply to Cuddy.

Cuddy shrugged. "She said that her wine tasted off and gritty. I didn't think anything of it, but if someone had put something in her drink . . ." Cuddy trailed off.

"Who did you see touch it?"

"A woman called Miranda – Denis Barnes's sister. She said she was an old friend of Catherine's."

"What? Old friend my ass," House said, his voice spitting with venom. "I don't understand how the fuck they ended up at this thing in the first place. Someone get hotel security. Find Miranda and that fat slug Denis. I know they've had something to do with this."

Just then the paramedics arrived and the gathered crowd stepped back to let them in. House stood up and pointed at Cuddy and Grosvenor. "Do not leave her side." Both of them nodded their agreement.

Wilson stood up too, putting a hand on House's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"I'll be all right once I get my hand around that skinny, deformed bitch's throat," House replied.

House looked around the crowd. Even the musicians had stopped playing – there was clearly only one entertainment in the room and it was Kitty. He was grateful for Wilson's foresight to cover her up. He knew she'd be horrified to find out that most of the guests at the fundraiser had seen her naked breasts. His thoughts were somewhat preoccupied by that, when he realised that he'd actually scanned past the two people he was looking for. He trailed his sightline back and yes, there they were, the two of them standing together on the other side of the table to where Kitty was lying. Denis was looking upset and faintly sick, while Miranda's eyes gleamed with manic intensity.

"Security!" House yelled at a couple of stupid-looking uniformed bouncers who'd appeared along with the first-aid guy. "Grab those two." House made his way through the crowd, using his cane indiscriminately to push through where he needed to.

House somehow expected both Miranda and Denis to make a run for it, but they didn't – both stayed standing right where they were as he, Wilson and the two security guards leapt towards them.

"I don't understand," Denis said, looking confused.

"Of course you don't," House said spitefully. What an idiot.

"What did you do to her, bitch?" House spat at Miranda.

Miranda didn't flinch, simply smiled at him malevolently. "I just gave her some of my brother's vitamins," she said. Her voice was calm, pleasant, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Vitamins? What the—" House swung to Denis and reached out for him, almost grabbing the lapels of his suit before Wilson pulled him back.

"I wasn't go to hit him," House protested, wriggling in Wilson's grasp. "Search his pockets," he ordered one of the security guards.

"Sir, would you mind emptying out your pockets?" the guard asked politely. House wanted to strangle him for his manners – there was no time to waste.

Denis flushed slightly, but he did as he'd been asked. He pulled out a wallet, handkerchief, parking receipt and a cell phone. He then hesitated, his hand poised over the inside pocket of his jacket. "Well, this is rather embarrassing," he said, looking at the floor.

"What the hell have you got?" House demanded. Wilson's grasp had eased as Denis had cooperated with the security guard, but it suddenly tightened again.

Denis pulled out a white plastic bottle of pills.

"Viagra?" House yelled as he caught sight of the label, causing Denis to blush an even deeper shade of crimson. He turned to Miranda, filled with a white-hot rage that was fierce enough to almost blind him. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" The fact that he'd thought only a moment ago that he might have done exactly the same thing - although by accident - only increased his fury.

She smiled, and no one who saw it was in any doubt that the woman's sanity hung by a fine thread. "I told you she had a broken heart," Miranda said, her nose raised in the air smugly.

House felt himself go weak as he remembered the messages that had been delivered to him. Miranda was behind them. She clearly knew about Kitty's heart condition and, furthermore, the medication she took to cope with it. And what would happen if she "accidentally" ingested a vasodilator like Viagra.

"House!" Cuddy called over to him. "They're ready to transport her. They'll need someone who knows about her medical history when she gets to the hospital. You should go with her."

House was torn. On the one hand he was desperate to ensure Kitty was looked after correctly when she got to hospital. On the other, he didn't know how he could leave without making sure that Miranda and Denis were held accountable for their actions. House was vaguely aware that Seth Bannister, the Barnes lawyer, stepped forward.

"Miranda, what have you done?" the lawyer asked, shaking his head like a disappointed father.

"Yes Miranda, what have you done?" Denis asked. He'd clearly recovered from his embarrassment and he turned to stare at his sister with unconcealed anger. "You know what Father said. You've ruined everything."

Miranda simply giggled and wrapped her arms around herself.

The lawyer turned to House. "Dr House, go with Ms Brecht and be there for her. I'll make sure that Miranda is dealt with appropriately."

"And why should I trust you?" House didn't for a second think that Andrew Barnes's own lawyer would be remotely the best person to leave in charge of the situation.

"House, go," Wilson said, pushing House back towards where the paramedics had begun wheeling Kitty towards the doors. House noticed Steve Grosvenor was still by her side. "I'll stay here and call the police. I can tell them about the threats. Cuddy can tell them about seeing Miranda touching Catherine's wine glass. I'll call you as soon as we know more."

House paused for a moment, uncertain, but then scowled at Miranda before turning and striding as quickly as he could move towards the exit. A random woman from the crowd approached him and House almost pushed her out of the way until he realised she was returning his cell phone to him. He grabbed it without a word and caught up with the paramedic crew as they pushed her out the front door.

"What did she dose Catherine with?" Grosvenor asked as Kitty was loaded in the back of the ambulance.

"Viagra," House answered.

"Fuck."

House raised his eyebrows at the an uncharacteristic expletive from the older doctor.

"Get her on dialysis as soon as you get there," Grosvenor advised.

House just prevented himself from sneering – of course that was what he was going to do. For once he realised that the other man's advice was only prompted by concern.

"We're moving," the paramedic said, "get in if you're coming."

"You should come too," House said to Grosvenor. House figured Grosvenor had known Kitty longer. They were close – he might have insights to offer.

The older man shook his head. "I'll drive and meet you there. I assume you'll take her to Princeton Plainsboro?"

House nodded as he awkwardly climbed inside the ambulance. "See you there."