A/N: I've finally decided to start posting my Becker-House fics here again. I had taken them down because I wanted to rewrite them, which I am still in the process of doing.
I wasn't sure at which point in their relationship I should begin posting these; I have a bunch of stories/plot bunnies from which to choose, but the night they met seemed liked a fitting place to start. The rest of my "Grayla" fics will be posted eventually as I finish polishing them.

Setting: Johns Hopkins, one of the dorms. It's the middle of the night, not long after Aileen and House first met, Friday, 13 May 1988

Gregory Joseph House lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the night's events replaying ceaselessly in his head.

She had been there. He had gone there specifically so he could meet her, at the behest of one of his professors. Her dress had been so simple, elegant on her frame. Her dark hair had been delightfully free of all the styling products every other woman he knew seemed to enjoy piling on these days.

And her face! It was so refreshing to be able to see a woman's face unobscured by a palette of garish colours.

She was the kind of person who would rather cut through all the bull shit and façades and masks; he could tell that right away.

And so he'd been himself.

He hadn't blundered his way through her first impression of him. He didn't try to charm her or pretend to be some nice guy that might have had a chance at wooing her.

Yet she hadn't been put off by him. Or by his assitude, as a girl he'd once known had called it.

No, this woman - a teenager, really, he reminded himself - was different. She saw past all that he let the world see of him and managed to look into his . . . Damn it all, she saw into his soul.

He had invited her out to dinner - to escape that boring party meant for some pre-med students to impress potential future employers - even though he knew she wasn't even seventeen yet. That wasn't for another week. And what would she see in him, anyway? He wasn't anything special.

He was just a case study to her, of course. Just another patient for her to treat. He had to remember that.

He glanced over at the red glowing numbers of the clock.

It had been an hour since he'd walked her to her dorm and he still couldn't stop thinking about her smile.

He turned on the radio. Maybe music would calm his mind so he could get a few hours of sleep.

Young girl, get out of my mind. My love for you is way out of line.

Damn.

Aileen Layla Becker sat at the desk in her room. She was prone to bouts of insomnia, so she was wont to take advantage of her sleepless nights to get some work done. She was scribbling notes for a case study she was just starting.

The moment she'd met him, she could see a tortured soul and a genius bordering on madness lurking behind those blue eyes.

Oh, she could drown in those blue eyes . . .

She couldn't put that in her notes, of course. Those thoughts had been entrusted to her diary, safely tucked away in a locked drawer. There were many things about that night that were only admitted to those secret pages and not her files.

Why her father had insisted she should meet Gregory House, she couldn't reason out in her head, but she was fascinated by him instantly. Oh, she knew what her father had told her, that he had a promising student who showed great potential. He just needed to work on his bedside manner.

The look on John Becker's face when he realised that Aileen and Gregory had spent the better part of the night together told her that he'd had no idea there might have been any sparks between the two of them. He'd looked almost appalled at the sight of the pair dancing as closely as they had been.

She shook her head at her own foolishness. Of course there was nothing between her and Gregory! There was the age difference to consider, not to mention that she was under-aged. A minor who was majoring in pre-med. And besides, what could he possibly see in her, anyway? She was just a child in his eyes, surely.

She was a psychologist; he was her patient. He'd agreed to let her do a case study on him over the summer because . . . because he had nothing better to do? Because he was bored?

She told herself it didn't matter why. She had to maintain a professional distance. Otherwise, the summer wouldn't go well.

Not well at all.

She switched her radio on and tuned to a random station, hoping to rein in her emotions the way her Aunt Lilith had taught her. 'Deep breath, slow and steady.'

Better run, girl. You're much too young, girl.

Damn.

Song credit: "Young girl, get out of my mind; my love for you is way out of line. Better run girl; you're much too young, girl." Those are the first two lines from Young Girl, written and produced by Jerry Fuller, recorded by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, released March 1968. There have been numerous covers, including a Hebrew-language version entitled, coincidentally enough, Layla (Night), by Israeli rock band, Noar Shulayim.