Chapter Two

“Before I say another damned word I need to lock the door.” She pushed 
herself away from the desk and did just that as House watched her, slightly 
alarmed. When she returned, Cuddy took a deep breath. “What I’m about to 
say isn’t known to another person at this hospital, and for good reason.”

House didn’t interrupt; he cocked an eyebrow and kept his gaze on her as she perched one hip on the desk. He watched her fiddle with her fingers, twisting 
them around each anxiously, and the sight of that set off faint alarms within 
him. Cuddy didn’t GET nervous. Irritated and bossy, yes, but even in the face 
of crises and catastrophes she managed to rise above and still maintain an air 
of complete confidence that rarely faltered publicly or privately. Seeing this 
little sign made him narrow his gaze.

“All right. I need you to promise you’ll sign a nondisclosure agreement after I 
finish tell you this, House. No argument, no bullshitting here. Either you agree, 
or I have nothing to say from this point on.” Came her low, emphatic demand.

He debated internally with the question; a tendency to balk came naturally to 
him, but the look on Cuddy’s face cut that short. House gave a reluctant nod. 
She drew a deep breath.

“Okay, she sighed softly, “Here goes. Within the offices of the CDC Infectious Diseases is a special division—covert if you will-- that deals with . . . 
pathogens of antiquity. Ancient Afflictions. They track various plagues and 
diseases whose pathologies haven’t yet been determined. Stuff of . . . “ Cuddy looked slightly mortified, “—legend.”

“I don’t deal in legends, Cuddy. Facts,” House couldn’t resist sneering. “The 
nature of EVERY disease has a traceable history and you damned well know 
it.”

“Yeah, well I’ve seen the bioanalysis write-up for what we’re facing and it 
covers a fifteen by twenty two foot wall, Greg. And the authenticated 
documentation for it goes back to stone tablets and cave walls. Once I 
became dean here I was indoctrinated about the AA division and the necessity 
to work with them to stop any potential outbreaks of Hemophagic virus. When 
we’re done here I can give you authorization to look into the research in 
Atlanta if you want, but right now I’ve got to verify the contamination and go to 
code, so move over—“

House let her reach across him and tap the keyboard, pulling up a few 
different screens through the CDC site until she reached one he hadn’t seen 
before. Cuddy leaned closer, scowling.

“This would be easier if you would let me sit DOWN—“ came her grouse. 
House patted his lap; Cuddy rolled her eyes. House gave a hurt smirk.

“Suuuure, you can look at beefy calendars, but one little lapsit and you go all 
prissy on me. See if I let you use my cane to impale our Undead friend.”

“Actually, I have my own stakes—“ Cuddy murmured absently, typing in a 
password and missing the sudden narrowing of his gaze. The screen flared up 
and changed color abruptly, going to a cobalt blue. Cuddy typed again and a 
form popped up:

CDC DEPARTMENT AA

INITIAL SIGHTING REPORT: Please fill out with as many pertinent details as possible. Your report is simultaneously being sent to the nearest Dispatch 
office to your area. Estimated TOA for Dispatch team: 26 hrs.

“Okay, you said three blood packets reported for each incident?” Cuddy 
murmured, her long fingers flying.

“More or less, yes—“ came his reply as he leaned forward and watched her 
type. They were shoulder to shoulder at the desk, staring at the screen.

“Okay, that means we have only one vampire roaming around then. Probably 
thrilled to have a safe haven and a steady food supply. All I can’t figure out is 
how it got in—“

“Dispatch? As in storming the hospital?” House muttered. “Some sort of vampire-disposing SWAT team?”

Cuddy drew in a breath. “If it comes to that—the CDC Ancient Afflictions office 
is pretty good at cover stories. Remember that blackout last summer in
Atlantic City? Created just to stop the media from finding out about a rogue 
vampire in a nursing home—“ she sighed. “Every three months I’m required to 
go to meetings regarding this county’s statistics on this. Hospitals are 
preferred targets you know.”

House gave a preoccupied nod, his mind racing. He squinted at the screen 
again, looking at the sketchy details that Cuddy typed in, and snorted. He 
lightly pushed her hands from the keyboard and took over, his typing speed 
much faster than hers, the clackity-clack of the keys loud in the empty office.

“Blood has two Os, not three. And it’s LiSa, not, Lida—“ Cuddy pointed out. 
House rolled his eyes.

“Picky, picky. We’re dealing with a potential epidemic and you’re criticizing my spelling, “ he groused. “Let’s focus on priorities, shall we?”

“Come on, I have standards—“ Cuddy snapped back, “At least for spelling my 
own NAME.”

House hit the enter key and glanced over at Cuddy. Her expression in profile startled him; he hadn’t seen her afraid in a long time.

“Lisa—“ he asked in a low voice. She shook her head, as if to dislodge her momentary weakness, then reached for her desk drawer.

“Shit.” The word came out quietly, and with a hint of self-consciousness. 
Cuddy didn’t swear often either. She fished out a ring of keys as she spoke. “I 
have twenty six hours to find the vampire and verify the incident. And, if 
possible, dispose of it myself. I mean I’ve taken the training and kept up on 
the procedure, but I haven’t actually . . . done it.”

House kept looking at her, fighting a flood of questions. A part of his mind was maliciously, gleefully delighted that his deductive skills HAD picked up on the 
trail of clues. Another part was scoffing at the very idea of vampires or of Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine, staking one out for that matter.

He wondered if he’d finally OD’ed and this was all some hallucination, but 
Cuddy suddenly slid a hand deep into her cleavage and pulled out a thin silver chain, letting the tiny Star of David charm glitter in the light. House stared at it dumbly for a moment.

“I thought it was supposed to be a cross,” he muttered. Cuddy’s mouth twisted 
in a wry smile.

“Any symbol of what you have faith in. Which means in YOUR case you ought 
to wear your DMV photo, I guess.” She shot back. House winced a fraction 
and Cuddy went on. “Not that it matters. You’re going home, House. You’re 
not trained for this—I am.”

“Right.” He agreed. “One woman—a highly efficient one, but a single one nonetheless—to search an entire five story hospital by herself for a vampire. 
Not going to happen, Cuddles. Resourceful you may be, but that’s too much 
territory and not enough time. You need my help whether you like it or not.”

Cuddy glared at him and House saw her struggle not to snap at him, to yell 
the way she so clearly WANTED to. If the situation hadn’t been so 
surrealistically ludicrous he would have laughed.

“House—“ she began, trying to look calm and not succeeding by much, “—It’s dangerous. Not glamorous; dangerous. And if I don’t succeed, you’re going to 
need to tell the Dispatch team everything you know and keep this hospital 
safe.” Her tone was firm, but House heard the little waver of uncertainty in it 
and that faint hint of her own vulnerability made him grip the handle of his cane 
more tightly.

He rose up, looking grim. “Enough with the heroic speech. It’s nearly five 
o’clock now, and by best estimate we have about five hours until whatever 
this thing is can even begin to come out of hiding. So from now until then, we search. We’ll do this logically; but hierarchy of needs. Blood source first, 
right? Then darkness? Privacy?”

Cuddy shifted her keys from one hand to the other and nodded, looking 
slightly relieved. “The blood storage areas first, that’s logical. We have the 
main one off the labs, then smaller ones in Oncology, the ER, the clinic and Maternity for starters, along with the Ambulance restock. Come on, I have to 
get my kit.”

“Sack ‘o stakes?” House asked, half in jest. Cuddy let one corner of her mouth 
go up and merely looked at him. She moved to the wall safe tucked between 
the bookcases. Kneeling gracefully, she dialed the combination and pulled the heavy door open, then fished inside while House ambled over to watch. Out 
slid a green canvas backpack with a biohazard emblem and the CDC seal 
imprinted on it. The tags were locked shut. Cuddy heaved it up at House and 
he caught it, the weight making him lurch forward a bit; he frowned.

“What the hell is IN here?”

“Four stakes, one mallet, a sack of rice, three vials of Holy water, a velvet bag 
of silver religious emblems, a syringe of curare, tube of garlic extract, evidence bags, report forms, and an incendiary bomb,” Cuddy rattled off quickly. House blinked as she shut the safe again and rose up, her jaw set.

“You. Are. Serious.”

“House—“ she leaned in to look at him, and for one long intensely painful 
moment he could smell the fear radiating from her skin, see the flutter of her 
pulse at her throat as Cuddy spoke in a husky voice. “I’ve seen this . . . 
contagion. I watched a staking, live—or dead if you prefer, and this is not 
something to fuck around with. This virus or whatever the hell the correct 
pathology is—it’s as old as civilization, and it hasn’t been conquered or 
contained or controlled in thousands of years. It’s not curable; if either of us 
end up with an exchange of blood with this thing, the CDC is fully authorized to 
kill us. I’m aware that there are already personnel HERE who will . . . 
disappear with the dispatch team. MY people, Greg—“ she choked, “—So, 
yeah. Serious. The out still stands. If you want to leave, now’s the time.”

House gripped the shoulder straps, squeezing them until they cut into his 
hand. The wild and mixed urges running through him were too countless to 
number: To laugh, to nod, to pinch himself, to call the Psych ward; but quelling 
them all was the sudden rise of fury, black and righteous that flooded him at 
the sight of Cuddy’s fear. The oddly compelling impulse to . . . protect her—he 
didn’t know where it came from, but it was there, and in truth there was only 
one answer to her offer.

“Be vewy, vewy quiet . . . we’re hunting vampires—“ House growled, swinging 
the backpack onto his shoulder.