Title: I live on the second floor

Author: mitfordgal

Fandom: House

Rating: M for Mature due to language and disturbing situations

Category: Drama/Angst

Relationships: House/other friendship (for now)

Spoilers: Up to season three by the end

Disclaimer: I do not own House or any of the wonderful characters from the mind of David Shore and co. I do, however, take credit for Hilary, Myra, Derek, cops etc. Please do not sue.

A/N: I've manipulated House's environment a bit to make this story work. In my little world, he lives in a triplex and has one of the first floor apartments. I realize that in season 1 we saw Cameron come into his apartment and there were trees on the other side. I am ignoring that.

A/N 2: I am desperate for a beta or betas. I don't only write House – I write The West Wing, Higher Ground and MASH for now – maybe the X-files later. If you are interested, please email me at I need not only spelling/grammar help but also a kick in the butt to get through my writer's block.

"No man is an island." John Donne.

I LIVE ON THE SECOND FLOOR

The first time he saw her, she was sitting outside his apartment building, shivering in the cold and waiting. At least he assumed she was waiting because when she didn't have her head buried in her knees shivering, she was looking up the street as though expecting someone. There were rules about letting people into the building that didn't belong there. House had received a notice about it just that morning slipped under his door by the superintendent. He didn't recognize this girl but anyone 4 feet 10 inches tall with a skinny build and masses of unruly dirty blond hair couldn't be a danger to anyone, he decided. He held the door open just a few seconds longer than he usually would and heard the rustle of a body slipping through behind him. She might have muttered thanks as she went to the stairs – he couldn't quite hear.

The next night she was back, but House found her inside, not outside. She was sitting in front of his door, reading. House tilted his head and was a bit startled to see the cover of Judith Guest's "Ordinary People."

"A bit advanced for a second grader, isn't it?" He asked, sardonically, stepping over her to get his key in the lock. She gave him a scornful glance.

"I'm 9 years old and in fifth grade, thank you very much." She scrambled to her feet and followed him inside. "I'll be 10 in January. My grandmother named me Hilary because the Republicans took over both the House and the Senate on my birthday so she was a bit depressed. It only has one "l" because she couldn't spell very well. I suppose I was lucky not to be called Wilhelmina or Chelsea." She made a face.

House tossed his knapsack on the couch and flopped beside it. He hoped that he had remembered to tape General Hospital. A lack of attention did not deter his uninvited guest at all.

"Wow, you have a piano! It's gorgeous. Why do you have one?"

"The space was too big for an easy chair," he answered absentmindedly. Damn. He had forgotten. Curses on Cameron for getting him involved in a case that took him away from the television in the lobby during his soap opera. He flicked off the TV and woke up to the fact that Hilary was sitting on the piano bench, a hand reaching out to touch the keys.

"Hey, back away from there!" he ordered protectively. His tone did not seem to upset Hilary at all. She spun around to face him.

"You must be the guy that helped us get our apartment cheap. The superintendent gave us the apartment for a discount as long as we didn't complain that you were a bastard or played your piano in the middle of the night."

"Sounds like me," he agreed. Before he could figure out a way to get her to leave, she piped up,

"He said you were a doctor. You don't look like a doctor."

"I play bass in a heavy metal band after work. This is the outfit we have to wear." He shook his cane at her. "Unless you are narrow-minded enough to believe that someone who's disabled can't do anything except lie around watching TV and collecting benefits."

Hilary continued to study him in a way that made him uncomfortable. "It doesn't have anything to do with your cane. I just thought that people who became doctors did it to help people, at least on some level." Suddenly her face brightened. "Unless you are one of those doctors who are so arrogant about their abilities that they assume the world should treat them like gold. Is that why you're a bastard?"

"First of all," said House firmly, getting up. "I don't think little girls should be using words like 'bastard' to describe anything. Secondly, I use a cane because my leg hurts. When I'm in pain, I'm cranky. Thirdly, you need to go upstairs to your own apartment and annoy the people who decided to bring you into the world."

Hilary didn't budge. "I would do that but I can't get into my apartment and the super isn't answering his door. My mom's out working and won't be home until late. I forgot my key."

House sighed heavily and pulled out his cell phone. "Foreman? Have you got the kid off the roof yet? Great. Leave him in Cameron and Chase's capable hands and get over here. Yes, my apartment." In a sarcastic tone, "I've fallen and I can't get up. Just get over here and bring your 'break-and-entry' kit with you." He snapped the phone closed in annoyance.

"How many doctors does it take to keep a teenage boy in his bed?" he muttered. He wandered into the kitchen, popped 2 Vicodin and got himself a drink. Without thinking, he poured a glass of water for Hilary.

"So you have doctors working for you?" asked Hilary cheerfully, accepting the glass of water.

"Yeah, three of them."

"And one of them can get into locked apartments?"

"That's why I hired him. Oh, and because he's black. I'm all about affirmative action."

"So that's Foreman," Hilary mused. "What about the other two?"

"I hired Chase first because his dad was famous in Australia and I was curious to know why he wanted to work in the US, far, far away from Daddy and his influence. I hired Cameron because she was pretty, naïve and sincere."

Hilary nodded. "When you're a bastard, you need someone nice to follow behind you and pick up the pieces."

House sighed. "I wish you would stop using that word."

Hilary cocked her head inquisitively. "You don't seem like the type to be concerned about what comes out of kids' mouths. Is it that you don't like to think of yourself as a bastard?"

"Look, I've had a long day and it's longer because of you so can we please just sit in silence and wait for Foreman?" He stretched out his legs and propped them on the coffee table, wincing slightly as he did so. Hilary watched him with a slight smile on her face. Finally, something interesting.