Molly's sister was someone she could tolerate. Not really someone she wanted around all the time, but she could tolerate her. She wasn't anything like Molly. Sarah was prim and proper. She was a housewife for a busy architect and spent their sisterly visits talking about the latest high priced, over compensating item that he had purchased for her. But this visit was different. She hadn't seen Sarah since before the surgery. She was interested to see if Sarah would still make the conversation all about material items.

"Oh my goodness! Heavens alive! You look so good!" Sarah was dressed in a cute little sweater dress, her hair swept up, large earrings dangling and make-up done perfectly. She dashed up in her designer high heels and threw her arms around Molly. "I'm so glad you decided to do this! You look like a real woman now!"

Molly rolled her eyes as she hugged her sibling. "Yeah, good to see you too."

Sarah nodded appreciatively and sat in a cafeteria booth with her. "I know. I got this new conditioner. Doesn't my hair look so soft?"

"Yeah. So Sarah, I only have a bit for lunch here…"

"Oh! Of course. Busy doctor lady!" she giggled. "I won't take long. I just wanted to have you review the changed to my will."

Molly furrowed her brow. "You're will?"

"Yeah. I'm cutting out Donnie." Their brother.

"Why?"

"Because, silly. He's done nothing with his life. At all. And you deserve more." She flipped out some papers from her large designer purse. "I just wanted you to review and sign."

"Dr. Harris?" Chase stepped up to the cafeteria table. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

"No, don't worry." She motioned. "Dr. Chase, this is my sister, Sarah Coleburn. Sarah, Dr. Robert Chase."

She smiled, extending her hand. "Well aren't you just the most charming looking doctor."

He shook her hand with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you." But Harris knew this smile. It was his polite smile. He wasn't sure what to make of the bubbly brunette.

"Well, I suppose if he's here, I have to go," Harris interjected.

"Yeah," Chase agreed. "House is looking for you."

"Well shucks," Sarah pouted. "I was hoping maybe you were joining us for lunch."

Harris slipped out of the booth, snatching up the papers. "I'll get these signed and to you by tomorrow, Sarah. You should probably go to miss traffic."

She nodded. "Of course. Again, thanks for meeting up with me." She winked at Chase. "And you don't be a stranger, now."

As Harris led Chase away, he chuckled. "That's your sister?"

"Yeah." Harris sighed heavily. "Apples don't fall far from the tree… but she's an orange."

()

House stepped into the differential room with Cuddy latched to his side. Neither looked particularly happy. "We've been requisitioned by the CIA," Cuddy began. "This team will be flying to an undisclosed location where you will be treating a patient of undisclosed identity."

Harris blinked. "If we refuse?"

Cuddy sighed. "Molly, just go with this."

Foreman shifted uncomfortably. "When do we have to leave?"

"In an hour. Enough time to gather some personal items; change of clothing, toiletries and such." Cuddy softened. "I know this is not the norm. You will be compensated."

Chase nodded. "Foreman, Harris, you need a lift?"

()

At least she didn't have to wear that lab coat. They were all dressed casually, seated in a private jet headed to the undisclosed location. House was kicked back, drink in front of him, headphones on. Foreman and Chase had taken up a game of cards. Harris kept her seatbelt tight and gripped the arm of her seat. She had one major fear. Flying. Beads of sweat began to form on her brow but she kept quiet, trying not to draw attention to herself.

"Harris?" Foreman came from behind, touching her shoulder.

She jumped when he touched her. "Fine! I'm fine. No problem."

He grinned. "Aviophobia?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay." The plane jostled and she shrieked. "This is a government plane," she stated in a shaky voice. "Highly trained pilots. Top of the line mechanics. We're safe." She was trying to convince herself.

"Maybe you should have a drink. Calm your nerves."

"I can't. Post op doesn't allow it. And I'm unable to swallow any pills. The esophageal opening is too narrow. I can only do liquid." She swallowed thickly, trying to keep her cool. "Ow!" she cried out as the needle pierced her arm.

House spat out the cap. "There we go."

Chase's jaw dropped. "What did you do?"

"Just a little sedative."

()

One injection may have subdued the fear of flying, but it made her a bit loopy. Well, very loopy. And the CIA agent greeting them didn't really look amused. "Your team needs to be on its top game, Dr. House." The agent was gruff, maybe mid-forties. He gave them all a once-over.

Harris puffed up to impersonate the agent. "Your team needs to be on its top game, Dr. House." She laughed, tipping slightly into Chase.

"She's fine," House informed him. "She just needs to get rid of her jet lag."

Her hand slipped to Chase's ass, giving it a little squeeze. "Gonna wear me out?"

He quickly took her hand, stopping her advances. "We should just let her sleep this off."

She groaned. "Boring," she sing-songed.

The agent glared at her. "This way."

()

There were migraines, and then there was whatever the hell was happening to Harris' head now. She sat on her bunk in a room designed to house all of them. House and Chase were already in the patient's room. Foreman sat with a blood pressure cuff around her arm, listening with his stethoscope. She held still, no other real option with her head pounding.

He pulled back, loosening the cuff. "You're good," he informed her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap lit on fire. But I'll survive."

He looped his stethoscope around his neck. "Never thought you'd have a phobia like that."

"Gotta keep you guessing." She sipped on a water bottle she was nursing.

"Speaking of that, have you slept with Chase?" He laced his fingers together.

She sighed heavily. "Once."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No wonder he treats you with kid gloves now."

"Oh please, Foreman. Chase always handles me with kid gloves. I'm a girl."

"Did you even think how…"

"How this could affect the team?"

"Yeah."

"It's not. We just had two cases just fine since then." She stood. "And we have a case now. So let's go work."

()

They weren't allowed to keep their cell phones, but they did have access to phones to check their messages. They were advised the phones were monitored and not to reveal anything about what they were doing to family or friends. Harris had three messages from her sister, demanding to know where she was with the papers. Grudgingly, Harris dialed her.

"Molly! Where the hell are you? I need those papers!"

"I got called out on an emergency. I don't know how soon I'll be back. It's okay. It's not like you're planning on dying soon."

Her sister's pause was subtle but she caught it. "Yeah, true."

"Sarah, what are you hiding?"

"Nothing! Don't worry. You're right. It can wait. I should let you get back to your work." There was a soft click as the call ended, leaving Harris staring at the receiver.

()

The four doctors sat around a round table in a make-shift dining hall, mulling over the droll meal in front of them. Government food was no better than high school lunches. But the food wasn't what was on Harris' mind. The conversation with her sister was still the governing item.

"We haven't ruled out Sarcoidosis," Chase spoke up, breaking the silence.

"We didn't have to because it's a stupid idea," House fired off.

Harris moved some mashed potatoes around her plate, only half listening. "If it's a metal poison, we could try chelation therapy."

All three others looked at her like she'd grown a third head.

"Uh, we tried that already," Foreman advised, warily.

She stood. "I'll be back." Rushing, she scurried around to the bunks.

Chase headed her off at the pass. "Molly, wait up."

She stopped, taking a deep breath. "Yeah?"

"What's going on? You've never slipped up on a diagnosis like that."

"It's Sarah. She's hiding something." She paced. "That will, her rush… it's all too coincidental with what happened a couple of weeks ago."

"A couple of weeks ago?"

"Long story. But I'm here, locked up and I can't get to her. I can't get to my contacts." She stopped pacing and punched a wall, hard. The sickening crack of her knuckles echoed in the hall. She bit her lip but refused to cry.

"Molly! Bloody hell…" Chase took her hand gently. "Well, it's broken."

"A lot of things are."

()

It took three weeks to get the agent diagnosed and healed. Three weeks of close quarters and tension. The first sign of free air was long awaited blessing. Harris cradled her casted hand. The complex fracture was almost healed. They had two taxis. One carried Chase and Foreman, while the other, House and Harris.

She leaned her head on the cool glass. "It's strange to miss things like a cab ride."

"I miss internet porn." House popped some pills into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "Really, Greg?"

"Unless you have something else to replace it?" He glanced over at her.

Maybe it was all the isolation. Maybe it was the pain in her hand. Maybe it was the fact that she really didn't care anymore. "Fine."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"Stress relief. Sure. I could use a good lay. And despite your other obvious flaws, you are good at one thing." She shrugged. "So what do you say?"

()

The phone beside her bed rang, waking Harris from a subdued state. Grumbling, she grabbed the receiver. "Hello?"

"Molly?" the voice was her brother-in-law.

She sat up straight. "Ryan? What is it?"

"They've taken Sarah to the hospital."

"Divert them to Princeton Plainsboro. I'm on my way." She hung up and flung her legs over the edge of the bed. "It's my sister. I have to go."

House stretched. "Well, I'll see you there."