Kyrial: Chapter 16 is up, and season 4 of Heroes is over... T_T I call personal dibs on Tim Kring if he doesn't bring back Daphne... Tracy can do whatever, although I think *mff mfff* should *mmmffff!*... Syathan is interesting, though... Like to see how that turns out... yes...

Kyrial: Without further delay, the world is turning and you're waiting! Heroes...

The Master: Whatever. Just don't make me have to censor you any more. *ahem* Until my plans for world domination are successful, I don't own Artemis Fowl, the Doctor, Heroes, or House, and neither does Kyrial.

"It changed your species entirely. To mine. Time Lord." I'm sorry…

"Reverse it. Now." House's voice was low and angry.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I can't. Not here, anyway." With the Chameleon Arch... I might be able to modify it sufficiently, but…

"Then do it elsewhere. Something. Anything. Just… fix it, okay?" His voice was starting to shake a little.

"House. Calm down." Wilson looked pale, but better than I expected comsidering what had just happened.

"…I can do that, but Wilson's going to have to come with me."

"Right." House stood up. "What're we waiting for then?" he asked, matter-of-factly.

"Uh…" I motioned at my chest. "I don't suppose you'd know where to get some underwear from?"

"Sure," said House, just as Wilson replied, "Yes." They glanced at each other, then House sighed melodramatically, and left the room. I watched his progress through the door absentmindedly. Huh… Unexpected.

Wilson watched me closely. "What actually happened to get you in here?" he asked suspiciously.

I looked at him again, this time paying more attention. "I had a blood infusion."

"So you weren't lying when you said that earlier." He sounded surprised.

"I don't lie, in general. Well… not unless there are exceptional circumstances. I just… omit the important parts of the truth." I winced at the phrase.

A hint of a smile pulled at Wilson's lips, as the door opened again. House entered with a bunch of plastic bags, which were thrown onto my hospital bed, causing the contents to strew over my lap.

I stared at them. …Okay…

"Don't worry, they're all clean. Except for that one," he added, removing something black and skimpy-looking.

"…I probably don't want to know the answer to this question, but where exactly did you get all this from?"

House opened his mouth as Wilson cut in. "He keeps them in his office drawer."

"Fine." I sighed, and indicated the suit. "Pass that to me, please, then draw the curtains around the bed."

Wilson looked quizzically at me, but picked up the suit and passed it over. House made his way over to the curtain, pausing before he drew it. "Are you sure you don't want any help putting that on?" he asked, smirking.

"House." Wilson glared at him.

"No, no, it's fine. If I have any problems, I'll let you know," I said seriously, with the straightest face I could manage.

"Fine," House grumbled, looking disappointed. "If you say so…" He disappeared behind the swathe of blue cloth as I pulled off the standard hospital gown, as well as my boxers. At this point, I spotted the immediate problem. There was a large variety of underwear, but…

"Er… how do the sizes work?"

"Cup size is letters, chest size is numbers," came House's disembodied voice from the other side of the curtain.

"Right. Right. Who invented this?"

"No idea."

I stared at the pile, then decided to just cheat. I pulled out the sonic screwdriver, fishing around for a replacement battery, then slotted it in, keeping the discharged one for recharging later. Setting number 56, I believe. Female… Undergarments… Right.

I switched it on, and pointed it at myself. There were a few seconds of buzzing, before it came back with the results:

Top Undergarment: 34C

Bottom Undergarment: 12

"Really?" Huh.

"What?" asked Wilson, from behind the screen.

"Oh... nothing." Let me see, I installed a little interfacing device in the suit somewhere... There. I fiddled with the innocuous-looking patch of cloth, then pressed the sonic screwdriver's head to it. The various parts of the suit contracted and expanded in the appropriate places to fit as I pulled out a set of underwear that wasn't excessively lacy. Unfortunately, this also meant it was bright red, and would therefore show through my suit shirt. It took a few tries to get it on.

"Just out of curiosity, what exactly were you doing on this planet anyway if you're not human?" House asked.

"What? Oh…" Very little, actually. "I just like Earth. It always fascinates me how much trouble you humans attract." Just like me. Amazing how similar we are sometimes, isn't it? Ironic considering how similar we aren't sometimes. I slipped on the trousers, then shirt and, finally, the sacred suit jacket, replacing the sonic screwdriver. "Done."

House yanked the curtain aside, and stared. "How did you get that to fit you again?"

"Resizing." I glanced at him. "I wasn't about to walk around in that underwear. Or a hospital gown. I'd get taken to the psychiatric ward."

He looked disappointed. "Shame. You'd probably look good in – " House stopped quickly when he saw the look on Wilson's face. "Hey, you can't blame me for trying."

"Is he always like this?" I asked Wilson.

Wilson grimaced. "Worse. Never go to poker nights with him."

"Right, I'll remember that… Allons-y!"

He blinked. "What?"

House smacked Wilson over the head with the cane. "It means, 'let's go' in Français." He turned to me. "He's a languophobe," he confided.

I stared at Wilson, aghast. "You don't speak French?" How is that possible?!!

Wilson looked embarrassed. "I did live in Quebec for a while, but… I wasn't very good at speaking the language."

"Never mind." I sighed. "Let's just go so I can undo this."

"Fine," said House, making for the door.

Wilson looked startled. "You're coming?"

House rolled his eyes. "Obviously. If you get abducted and dumped in France, you need someone to help you. Besides," he added, smirking evilly, "I've always wondered what the inside of a spaceship looked like."

"You didn't believe in aliens until today," Wilson objected.

He shrugged. "Whatever, let's go."

"Just a question first," I said suspiciously. "If you're a doctor, aren't you supposed to work for the whole day?"

House looked at me. "Spending the entire day diagnosing the hypochondriacs, frat-boy university students and people with STDs, or going on a spaceship with an alien?"

I get the feeling I'm going to regret letting him come.

Daphne was, currently, rather annoyed. This was not helped by the fact that the passengers in the car she was driving were Flint and Knox. It also wasn't helped by the fact she was forced to drive the stupid machine, or that there was a traffic jam.

"Are we nearly there yet?" Flint complained from the back seat.

Yep. This is why I hate cars. I mean, jeez, I could run faster than this…

Unfortunately, she, Flint and Knox were all incognito. Daphne could, admittedly, have just run into the hospital at super-speed, found 'John Smith' and run back to Arthur Petrelli again, but, a hospital being a public place, this would raise an awful lot of questions about where the patient had vanished to. She could also super-speed all the way to the hospital with Knox and Flint and just take it from there, a fact she'd pointed out to Arthur. He'd objected to this as well, saying that it was likely someone would notice the trio apparently appearing out of thin air.

So, Daphne was stuck with the metal.

"How much longer?" Flint grumbled.

And the annoying 4-year-old in the back, she reminded herself. Thankfully, Knox at least was silent. "Probably a couple of minutes. We're almost there." She pulled over into the car park, and eased the metal hulk into a free parking space. We have success! See, Dad, my driving test was worth something after all.

"Right, let's get outta here," said Knox, cracking his knuckles, as Daphne and Flint got out of the car.

Daphne assumed an assertive posture and her serious face as she entered the hospital with Knox, Flint trailing slightly behind. She marched up to the receptionist, who was currently talking to a patient. Reaching into her jacket pocket, she grasped the leather wallet tightly. When the patient left, Daphne walked up to the receptionist.

"I need to find someone. A John Smith is in this hospital, I believe, and I and my companions need to talk to him. It's urgent," Daphne said, stressing the last word.

The receptionist glanced up at Daphne. "Visiting hours are from 2pm to 5pm. Come back later." She turned her attention back down to the computer screen, as Daphne dropped Matt's badge on her keyboard. The receptionist raised an eyebrow, and looked at it closely.

"We have reason to believe there may be a dangerous criminal in the hospital," Daphne said, quietly. "If you could tell me where to find John Smith, we can solve this quickly and painlessly."

The receptionist swallowed, then tapped the name into the computer. "Room number 6, 4th floor up. The elevator's over there," she said, pointing, then winced. "He's being attended to by Dr. Gregory House, if you want to speak to him."

"Thank you," said Daphne, retrieving the badge and flipping the wallet shut.

Kyrial: This is getting really long - 25,659 words and counting, not including A/Ns! That's 45 and a bit pages. And it's nowhere near finished. I have no idea about Billie Piper's clothing sizes, I just guesstimated. So sue me if I'm wrong.

The Master: ...she's Billie Fox now.

Kyrial: Yeah, well... I'll never remember.

Review and you get cookies!