"And you're a...what exactly?" asked House, brows drawn together sceptically, "A doctor? I doubt it. A policeman? I haven't done anything recently. A delusional relative? Sorry for your loss, now get out." He pointed towards the door with his cane.

Sherlock gave a small smile, evidently having deduced something he liked, "On which floor is the morgue located? I'll just head over there and do the post-mortem for you."

"Excuse me?" House narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, "Not that what goes on in this hospital is any of your concern, but what makes you think we haven't already performed it?"

"Your impatience," Sherlock replied, "If you'd already done it you wouldn't feel as threatened by our presence, as is evident by your desperation for us to leave. Also, your whiteboard," Sherlock gestured towards House's board, causing House to take a protective step towards it, "which you clearly use for note-taking related to diagnostics, is essentially blank, which suggests that you either haven't performed the post-mortem or don't have any ideas regarding the cause of death."

"Oh yeah? Well you're not a doctor, as is evident by your inability to gain access to the building without manipulating Wilson here," House glanced at Wilson before turning his gaze back to Sherlock, "Who is easy enough to manipulate even without a doctorate, so that doesn't give you any special credit."

"Hey..." Wilson began to protest but was drowned out as House started up again.

"Also, I'm in charge here so what I say goes. And I say leave, so go."

Sherlock's smile grew, "I have clearance."

House stuck out his hand, "Show me," he demanded.

Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sheet of folded paper, which he placed in House's outstretched hand. House unfolded the paper and gave it a cursory glance before handing it back to Sherlock.

"That piece of paper means nothing."

"Excuse me..? Oh, I see. Because you're in charge here you think you can stop me from seeing the body," said Sherlock, quickly realizing what was going on.

"Nope," House replied, "You can watch my team and I perform the post-mortem from the viewing room. But you're not touching it. This is my case now, detective, and I'll be the one solving it."

"I have permission to join your team during any and all diagnostics sessions regarding this case," Sherlock pointed out, "You can't stop me from solving this."

"Joining my team doesn't mean anything either; you'll be like a kid on 'bring your kid to work' day. Your responsibilities will be limited to; sit down, shut up, and be amazed."

"You're so easy to read, doctor," Sherlock retorted, "I can tell so much about you just by looking. Would you like me to tell you what I see? How about I start with the..."

"Sherlock!" John suddenly exclaimed, having grown sick of watching the argument build up between the two men, "Can you not do this right now? I thought we were here to solve a case, not have egotism-fuelled arguments."

"House, you said it's important to perform the post-mortem as quickly as possible," said Foreman, grabbing the chance to stop House before he could get too fired up and do something they'd all regret.

"Yeah, well I also told Chase to bring me a latte," retorted House, turning to look at Chase reproachfully.

Chase glared at him, "As a qualified doctor and part of your team it's not part of my responsibilities to..."

"Just do it, Chase," ordered Foreman.

"But he's..." Chase tried to protest, but Foreman interrupted him.

"Get House his drink, and he might shut up," Foreman hissed to him quietly.

Wordlessly (but with a loud sigh of defeat) Chase got out of his chair and left the office.

"Now we can go to the morgue," said House, giving Sherlock his least genuine smile.

John sighed, and across the room Wilson did the same. This case was going to be difficult, no matter how easy it may be to solve.