House

Let's stay focused, Johnny.

What are you looking at?

Who is she?

That's Miss Cindy,

Zeke's new aide.

What happened to his old aide?

She got married.

So, first,

you want to rub the glue on the paper

in any shapes you like.

Why do people get married?

Because they love each other.

Why aren't you married?

I haven't found the person I love yet,

because I spend all of my time loving you.

Does that mean we can get married?

Well, love comes in many types,

and there's lots of it

to go around.

Oh, my snow is ruined.

It's not ruined.

Oh, it's pretty.

See, look, I like the green.

Who ever heard of green snow?

It's magical.

Come here.

We'll get you cleaned up, okay?

It's okay.

Ooh, are you okay?

Oh.

Hey, hey, hey.

You gonna pay for that?

Nice of you to offer.

Now I can actually get some cream cheese.

29-year-old teacher--

she works with special needs children.

She-- - Love what you're wearing.

Brings out the blue of the case file,

which means it's not from the E.R.

So why are you here?

Because Dr. Cuddy is not here.

She's decided to spend some more time

at home with the baby for a while.

I'm taking over some of her day-to-day responsibilities,

like babysitting you.

Interesting.

You have your whole life ahead of you.

So why would Cuddy want you to die so young?

She figured I'd spent three years working for you.

I was inoculated.

Good.

Fun.

You get to exercise your newfound power.

I squirm under your thumb,

resent the student becoming the teacher,

and then push comes to shove,

and we all get to realize what our real roles should be.

Then you put out.

That's why I took the job.

29-year-old Special Ed. teacher coughs up blood

all over Corky.

No dyspnea, no weight loss.

Why are you smirking?

Never thought I'd see the day

you were taking orders from Cameron.

Cameron's in charge? - When did that happen?

You're gonna destroy her, aren't you?

I am going to do my job.

If that involves leaving her a rotting pulp...

Cameron's gonna mark her territory.

She'll probably overcompensate and destroy you.

Bleeding ulcer.

Scope of the stomach and lungs were clean,

yet she continues to spit up blood

from both her stomach and lungs.

That means it's probably something wrong

with the blood itself--

Leukemia, Von Willebrand's.

Thoracic tumor is a better fit.

Erodes into her airway and esophagus--

Oh, will you two stop it already?

Stop what? - Disagreeing.

Okay, which one of us shouldn't have an opinion?

It's not an opinion.

It's a smoke screen.

Toss out a lame idea, instead of agreeing

with Foreman's better idea because you're worried

that'll confirm that he's boldly gone

where no man has gone before.

You slept with Foreman?

Sorry. You were busy.

Drop it, House.

We're seeing each other, end of discussion.

Anything else isn't relevant.

It's extremely relevant.

Apparently, it colors everything.

Now I have no idea if you have differing opinions

because you have differing opinions

or because you're just trying to prove

that you can think for yourselves.

How about you just judge our ideas on their own merit?

Oh, you don't want me to do that.

Go run a bleeding-time test,

confirm our patient's blood is screwy.

Then you can come back

and pretend to disagree about why.

Time Zero.

I'm impressed. You didn't even flinch.

I just went to my happy place.

We cannot let House anywhere near this woman.

Where is your happy place?

My class,

with them.

Passed the first mark.

It's a great thing you do.

Not really.

Most kids, typical children--

you hand them a pair of scissors, and they cut.

Well, Tony-- he's got C.P.,

and when I gave him the scissors,

we went on a journey together,

learning to get his fingers in those holes,

to hold the scissors apart, to hold the paper.

I mean, when he finally learned to cut,

we both just wept with joy.

If you ever meet our boss, just yes or no answers, okay?

It's not slowing up. No sign of clotting.

So there is something wrong with my blood?

Don't worry, we'll run some lab tests

to find out which clotting factor is off and then--

I'm not worried.

Must be one hell of a happy place.

She's beautiful.

I know. I'm lucky.

Absolutely.

What's she like?

She's eight weeks old.

Are you asking me about her politics or her sense of humor?

My cousin had a kid.

They acted like they knew the thing

from the time it was two minutes old.

I just-- I just thought--

She cries, she eats, and she poops.

What's wrong?

I don't feel anything.

You're tired.

I'm not sleep deprived.

She sleeps fine.

I'm obviously not hormonal.

I know I'm supposed to feel amazement.

I'm supposed to love her.

I just...

I don't feel anything at all.

Sorry.

Maybe I am just tired.

Um...

Thank you for stopping by. I'm okay.

Lisa...

If you're...

I am feeding her,

I'm changing her, and I'm burping her.

I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do.

She will be okay.

Please go back to work.

It is the blood,

but the clotting proteins aren't the problem.

It's her platelets, looked like they had bite marks in them.

So now you're agreeing?

Either you folded because I gave you crap,

or you broke up, or--

We disagree, you blame our relationship.

We agree, you blame our relationship.

Don't you see a problem there? - Yes.

Don't you? Could be lymphoma.

Not with normal LDH.

I.T.P. fits.

We should start her on methotrexate.

Absolutely, and total body irradiation.

Because she failed a bleeding-time test?

TBI will promote cancers,

kill her digestive tract.

Don't forget--stop her from bleeding into her brain.

It's premature, reckless, and potentially lethal.

True.

Must be somebody's job

to stop me from being reckless and irresponsible.

Nobody can stop me

from being premature.

Got a patient with I.T.P.

Need to hit her with radiation.

I'm gonna have to call you back.

Methotrexate. - Good point.

On the other hand,

if she bleeds in her brain,

she's gonna need a Special Ed. class of her own.

Fine.

Really?

Yeah, if you think it's right, do it.

Hmm.

Some people thought you were gonna be brutal,