House sent her for a long soak in the hot tub to warm her up before summoning her to his office with a text, giving her a half hour to get dried off and presentable.
When she arrived, they were not alone. Wordlessly he ushered her into the ajoining room where Kutner, Foreman and Thirteen were assembled. He took a chair in the corner and pulled out his DS as Kutner invited her to join them at the table.
"Where's Dr. Taub?" she asked.
"He's in the lab working on our other case," Kutner told her. "We got a lucky break when you convinced the boy's mother to call her parents. It turns out her father has the same thing as the boy."
"Because her father was able to describe his own symptoms, we were able to diagnose a mild form of a rare genetic disorder," Foreman supplied. "The patient has a much more severe case, but because we caught it early, we're confident that gene therapy will be able to help him."
"How did you find the condition in Jen's father?"
Thirteen spoke up. "When we talked to him to get a family history, he told us about his own symptoms that it turns out had been misdiagnosed; House recognised the symptoms and had him tested."
"So you were able to help two people today. That's great." And she felt glad that she could help with that. However... "Care to make it three?"
"That's why you're here." Foreman went on to explain that her test results were saying one thing and her condition was screaming another. They wanted to focus in on a few things from her history and see if they couldn't filter out some of the ambiguity.
"Dammit," House muttered.
Everyone looked at him.
"My batteries died. Carry on." And he limped out of the room.
"Sorry about that." Apparently Foreman was the diplomat in the group. "You'll have to excuse him."
"Not a problem. So, where do we start?"
When House returned a few minutes later with fresh batteries, the inquisition was already under way. And the first argument had errupted between Kutner and Thirteen, which House quickly settled. "If it could be a symptom, it goes on the board. Fight about it later."
The nature of the argument had been that her sadness might actually be clinical depression. She'd been sad before her husband's death, too, but had attributed it to her line of work, where the girls she poured her life into often made terrible choices. She'd dealt with two suicides on her watch where she'd discovered the bodies. She had a right to be sad.
But it went on the board, and House went back to his game.
Until he decided that the issue they seemed to be skirting around needed to be brought up. "What about sex?"
"Are you offering, or asking me a question?" she shot back before she could catch herself.
The room got quiet as everyone held their breath for his response, but House didn't even look up from his game. "Are you interested?"
"I think what Dr. House is getting at is that libido is controlled by the same part of the brain as temperature and mood," Foreman cut in, diplomatic again with a distinct edge of "shut up, House" in his voice.
Kelly understood why they would feel uncomfortable asking about this, and so she supplied them with what they were looking for preemptively. "My husband and I weren't having sex very often in the last couple of years before he died. My decision. I finally talked to my doctor about it, near the end, and he thought it might just be from my birth control. Since neither of us wanted kids, Mark decided to get a vasectomy so I could go off the pill. The procedure was already scheduled when the accident happened."
"What about since the accident?" House again. "You're not on the pill anymore."
"Dr. House, my husband died less than 9 months ago. YOU experience that kind of loss and then tell me how inclined YOU are to sleep with someone else."
All eyes were on her, including the offender's; House had paused his game and looked up at her. His face was stoic. "Fair enough." A beat. "But it still goes on the board."
She nodded, and the moment passed. On to safer subjects. Kutner drew attention to the fact that she was in shape; he was curious as to how she got that way without noticing that she didn't sweat.
"My workouts involved Yoga and very low impact strength training in a highly air conditioned home gym. If I ever thought about it, which I don't think I did, I probably would have just assumed I wasn't getting hot enough to sweat." They went on to ascertain that this part of her condition wasn't congenital. "I can remember sweating like a pig during college volleyball."
Once she moved into the shelter with the girls, she had very little time to breathe. She spent almost all of her time in the home (which was strictly climate controlled) or in the car driving them to activities.
"Is there a time you remember noticing that you were overheating when you were outside?"
"Dr. Hadley, I live in Fort Bragg, California. Everyone's overheated there. That's why I prefer to stay indoors."
More questions, more answers. Then House again contributed. "What about appetite?"
"I eat."
"I know you EAT. But do you WANT to eat?"
"Are you asking me to dinner, or do you need a snack break?" Before anyone could reply she gave her answer. "I haven't had much of an appetite since Mark died, but thankfully I really like the taste of food, so it's balanced out."
"On the board." House said without looking up again. "Ask her about her memory."
Foreman spoke up. "I know where you're going with this, but her serotonin levels are fine."
"Memory."
Forman smiled a fake smile and turned to her. "How's your memory?"
"Are we talking long-term or short-term?"
"Let's say both."
"I guess it's okay. I mean, things are kind of a blur since Mark passed away, but I think that's..." She saw House open his mouth and added before he could, "...going on the board."
"You wrote down a ridiculous amount of detail in your journal," House reminded her, discarding his DS and getting to his feet.
"I wanted to be thorough," she challenged.
"You wanted to remember," he corrected, limping over to the board. "Temperature, appetite, memory, libido, mood, sleep disturbance. What are we missing?"
"Anger and aggression," Kutner supplied.
All eyes returned to Kelly, who shrugged. "Sorry, can't help you on that one."
"If she hasn't popped House yet, I'd have to agree," Kutner said to Thirteen under his breath. Foreman heard and shot them a look. Kelly heard and laughed.
House didn't hear, and didn't care. "I'll take 6 out of 8. So if her serotonin levels are normal, what are the other options?"
"Nerve damage," Foreman said with authority. "The serotonin is being produced and interacting with the nerve end, but it's either not firing or firing but being blocked."
"I still say we can only really count temperature regulation as an actual symptom," Kutner argued. "The rest are sketchy at best to begin with, and could be easily attributed to outside factors."
"Thirteen, would you like to vote?"
"I'm with Kutner."
"No!" House grabbed his heart theatrically. "I HATE it when Foreman is right!" Then he dropped back to deadpan. "Figure it out." As the others stood and began to gather their things, House pointed a finger at Kelly. "You. Front and center."
She came to stand at attention in front of him, giving him a mock salute.
He held out his hand. "Thermometer."
"Yes, sir," she said, slapping it into his palm as though it were a scalpel.
After the beep, House addressed Thirteen. "She's going to need a warm-up."
"30 seconds in the microwave should do it," Kelly quipped. Then her volume dropped so only he could hear her. "The answer is 'yes', by the way, to your dinner invitation."
His eyes narrowed until he remembered. Then his expression softened slightly and he nodded. "Hit the showers."
"Yes, sir," she said again with a quiet tone and a grin that made his eyes seem to shine a little brighter. Another jaunty salute, and she followed Thirteen out of the room.