Gregory House and James Wilson || Cramps
It was a surprisingly calm afternoon in the hospital, at least by Princeton-Plainsboro standards. House, Wilson, and you had been working together like a well-oiled, if slightly dysfunctional, machine. Cases had been reviewed, arguments had been had, and House had sufficiently annoyed Cuddy to the point where she threatened to revoke his clinic hours exemption. Everything was normal. That was, until you found yourself curled up in pain from severe menstrual cramps, and the hospital's top diagnosticians were left baffled by a condition they couldn't treat with their usual medical expertise.