Author's Note: Bare with me here. Subject's a little touchy, but it'll improve. I'm not sure if I'm going to finish this or not, but let us enjoy the journey. I don't own "R & J", any of Shakespeare's works, Dylan's stuff, The Postal Service stuff, or House & Co. The rating may seem a tad weak, but I don't think this is too extreme. Please let me know if the rating needs to be upped. I'm mature as a teen, so I'm kind of bad with ratings.

CAPULET: And so did I. Well, we were born to die.

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene IV, Line 4

The book that lay on the table next to the hospital bed was covered in a purple stretch "Booksox". House had picked it up and flipped it to the page that was bookmarked. Romeo and Juliet, the tragic, old love story that he had read ages ago in some English literature class that he had been forced to take. He was a math and science guy, as his career bespoke, and English lit brought him endless hours of unending torture.

He let the book's weight behave as ballast in his one hand, as in the other hand he held fast to his cane. Purple, the color of royalty, he thought. The color of bruises, the color of plums…

"Would you kindly put my book down? I have three more acts to read in there before I can go to sleep," the body on the bed told him.

House set the book down and swung-walked his way to the end of the bed.

"Tell me," he looked at his chart, "Miss Williamson, what brings you here today? I know your uncle and that's the only reason why I'm treating you and not the rest of my team."

"I don't know, that's why I'm here. You're supposed to tell me what's wrong," she snapped back.

"Are you always like this? Because if not, this can be constituted as a change in mood, and thus possible and medical condition."

"Yes, of course, I'm always like this. Have you figured out why my uncle didn't want to treat me yet? Now, find out what's wrong with me and let me go home. I have three projects to do and this is so not helping my GPA."

He watched as she grabbed the English Lit book and flipped to the page that was bookmarked.

House stalked over to her and snatched the book out of her hands, snapping it shut with a loud "THWACK!"

"Hey! I need that book!" She protested.

"You better sleep or I won't release you so you can go work on that precious GPA of yours," he told her.

"I've dealt with people like you before. The tortured soul with an unimaginable amount of baggage? Please, that's why my uncle asked you. Because I can't sit in a bed acquiescing to some softhearted doctor all day. So, until you find out what's wrong with me, you're stuck with me."

House thinly grinned.

"A challenge?"

"You betcha."

She smiled flirtatiously and he left the room, running into Cameron as he left.

"I want a pregnancy test on the girl in there," he told her and flipped the file at her.

Cameron scanned it quickly.

"She's fourteen!" She exclaimed with alarm.

"So? She's already flirting with me. You might be able to take lessons with her. She does a hell of a job at it."

"For your information, even thinking like that is pedophilic. And her uncle is Dr. Williamson, Vice-Chairman of the board!"

"And I didn't see him trying to save me when Vogler wanted me gone. And I'm only thinking like a person who would want to do something that heinous to girl. Please, I'm not a monster."

"Some would disagree."

They arrived in the lobby, House headed for the elevator when someone stopped him.

"Dr. House?"

"Yes, the one and only."

The man looked to be in his early forties with a thin layer of short gray hair, which looked like a Brillo pad. He was tall, probably six feet, and was lean. His eyes were clear with a tint of gray.

"Listen, my name is Greg—"

House felt Cameron stiffen next to him.

"What a coincidence. I'm Greg, too! Nice to meet you, Greg. Now what may I do for you today?" The sarcasm was barely concealed in his voice.

"I'm a teacher and you have one of my students here. Emily Williamson? I was wondering if I could possibly go in and see how she's doing. She was in my class when she collapsed yesterday," he explained.

House raised an eyebrow and Cameron responded.

"Sure, right this way. Visiting hours end in ten minutes, but she's right down here. I'll show her to," she said politely and ushered him down the corridor.

As soon as the man was out of sight, House hit the "down" elevator button.

"Pedophile, huh?"

The elevator was empty and there was no response. An easy case, he thought. Something wasn't right and that girl had to be pregnant. She was certainly flirty enough to be foolish.

Women, he sighed and closed his eyes as the elevator descended. He never liked elevators, the feeling of helplessness as a closed container shot down a shaft.

Hehe. Double-entendres. Where was Cameron when he needed her?