|Gregory House, el doctor.|

House observes the person from where he is resting, hands overlapped on his cane while he waits for the flare-up in his leg to subside. They are working diligently in the hospital lab, reviewing the results of the latest patient House has accepted. They have been part of his team for years (House still remembers when they were first hired) and have been a reliable part of the diagnostics department ever since.

He has come to respect them, something quite rare for an abrasive man like him, but there is the small problem of how his heart does that little, annoying flutter every time they smile at him or bring him coffee in the mornings. The corner of his mouth twitches; annoyance crosses his mind. He is a busy man; he has no time to unnecessarily fall in love with his subordinate.

He rises from the chair with a small grunt and limps over to see how your progress is going.

"And? I'm right. The patient has AIDS."