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House.

In the living room.

Lounging. With a cane.

Even odds whether he wants to talk to you or not, whoever you are.

"Talking tiger. His name is Tiger. He talks. Haven't seen him around lately."

"I find that rather hard to believe. Tigers don't have vocal cords, they're not capable of duplicating human speech patterns."

Can you tell she's a bit new?

"Go track him down and tell him that. Have you got any valuables I can inherit when he eats you?"

She was wearing a gold cross necklace, but that looked like the only thing of value at the moment.

"Sir? Are you well?"

"Peachy. You, on the other hand, are new around here."

"A few days yes, how long have you been here?"

"A few days, but clearly I've been paying more attention than you have."

"I've been sick, and trying to keep hydrated with fluids and keep my digestion calmed down," she remarked. "And the lack of medical supplies isn't helping the situation here at all. Barely even the basics for first aid."

"Great. A patient. Well, we'll be getting a hospital in later today, I think. I'll be sure to pat you on the head and prescribe you some useless cold medication."

"Actually I'm also a medical doctor, and it's not an illness. It's simply morning sickness."

"Great. Anybody ever tell you it's a bad idea to get knocked up during an apocalypse? Good for the survival of the human race, bad for you."

"This happened before I came here. I'm only about 7 weeks into my first trimester. Hence recovering, and adapting to the sparser variety of food here."

"Whatever."

"Who the hell are you anyway?" She was getting tired of his attitude.

"Greg House."

"Special Agent Dana Scully." Granted, she's not used to the fact that government went bye-bye so any authority was gone.

"If I wanted your title I would've given mine."

And this is House trying not to be an asshole.

"Habit," she simply replied. "Already surmised you were a doctor. If your mannerisms are a tad questionable." Granted her bedside manners, or lack thereof was partly why she stuck with forensics and joined the FBI instead. So she wasn't going to judge his too much.

"Bedside manner doesn't cure patients, it just makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside. Would you rather be warm, fuzzy, and dying, or offended and alive? Don't answer that."

"A valid point," she allowed. Rather have someone who's competent. Have to be in such line of work when too often lives are at stake.

House nods. He doesn't look surprised. That doesn't mean he's not surprised, just that he's good at hiding it.

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