The mention of Lisa Cuddy, by first name or otherwise, moves over House less like water off a duck's back, more like a gust of cold wind through an open doorway. The lack of reaction is not because there is no reaction, but because there is no resistance to the chill for the short seconds that it lasts.

"And he's still an idiot. Especially if he thought that I have anything to do with who signs your paychecks anymore."

He frowns before taking the bait, reaching forward to the third pile and plucking up a female, african descent, thirty years old.

"I came here to see you." He admits to it, and moves quickly on. "I wasn't looking for a job. I'm not looking for a job. I'm not working for you."