AN: This is my first stab at a fanfic, so I hope you enjoy. The first two chapters are kind of prologues and then the story really takes off after that. Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers.

Chapter One: Hope for the Hopeless

I was a little surprised to get the call two weeks ago from my older sister's childhood friend, Lisa Cuddy. Lisa and her family had lived next door to my family for as long as I could remember. I was never that close to Lisa, since her and my sister are eight years older than I am, but she was always nice to me growing up. We had kept in touch throughout the years, mostly to update each other on the lives of our families, and, over time, our relationship slowly evolved into a causal friendship. We were both very busy women, she was the dean of medicine for a hospital in Princeton, New Jersey and I was working for a prominent law firm in Los Angeles, and we rarely had time to talk anymore. In fact, when she called I hadn't spoken to her in six months. But when she asked me to come out to Princeton to head up the legal department at her hospital, I just knew I couldn't say no.

I was more than happy to leave sunny California for New Jersey. I was born and raised in Boston and I was looking forward to getting back to the east coast. The climate and lifestyle of Southern California never agreed with me. I tried the whole yoga craze, the blonde craze, even the vegetarian craze and all I had to show for it was a rocking body from the yoga, a desperate need to get my hair back to its roots, a gorgeous auburn, which I did the minute I arrived in Princeton, and a desire to eat meat.

I had moved out to Princeton only a week before and it was finally my first day at work. I was excited. I had spent the week exploring my new neighborhood, finding all the good places to eat and the good places to drink, but most importantly, I had spent the week actively trying to forget my life in California and start fresh in a new city with a new outlook on life. I slipped into my brand new outfit, bought especially for my new job, a pink and white tweed Chanel skirted suit with a stunning pair of knee high Manolo Blahnik stiletto boots. It had cost me more than my first car, but I had finally made it as a real attorney with a real six-figure salary, so it was worth it. I was no longer working for another attorney, no longer working on briefs until 3 in the morning, no longer doing my own research. I now had people to do that for me.

I arrived at my new home away from home, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, bright and early at 8 am. It was a gorgeous hospital, located right on the outskirts of Princeton University itself. I walked right into the lobby and noticed that Lisa's office was nestled between the clinic and the nurse's station. I could see Lisa standing at the nurse's station speaking to a tall, lanky man wearing jeans and a black blazer over a faded pink dress shirt, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. I couldn't figure out if he was a disgruntled patient or maybe a disgruntled family member. As I got closer, I got a better look at this mystery man. I was intrigued. He had a five o'clock shadow, which I had always thought to be tremendously sexy, his salt and pepper hair looked as if it hadn't been combed in days and he had paired his business attire with Nike tennis shoes. His apparent disregard for his appearance was appealing, almost like he had more important things to worry about than whether or not his shirt was ironed. It seemed he and Lisa were having a disagreement about something.

"You know I can't do that!" he yelled at her.

"Well figure it out, House," Lisa snapped at him.

I walked right over to them, interrupting the conversation. "Lisa! Hi!" I greeted her. The man gave Lisa a dirty look.

"Isabella! How are you?" Lisa exclaimed, happy to see me and giving me a hug, which I uncomfortably returned. I had never been a big hugger.

I looked from Lisa to the mystery man and caught him looking me up and down. "I'm doing great. Am I interrupting?"

Lisa shook her head in exasperation. "No, we are done." She looked pointedly at the man before she continued. "Isabella, I would like to introduce you to Dr. House. He is the head of our Department of Diagnostic Medicine and is solely responsible for just about all our lawsuits." Dr. House made another face at Lisa. "Dr. House, I would like you to meet Isabella Gallagher. She is the new head of the Department of Legal Affairs."

I held out my hand to Dr. House and he shook it. "Well then Dr. House, I expect we will be seeing quite a bit of each other."

His face slowly broke into a smile as if it was a rare occurrence. "Call me Greg," he said, his voice dripping with masculinity.

Lisa looked at Greg as if he was speaking a foreign language. "Dr. House, could you go do your job without bothering me anymore today? I'm very busy."

"I'll try," he said sarcastically.

"It was nice meeting you, Greg," I told him, flashing him a smile, as I followed Lisa into her office. When I got to the door to her office, I glanced back and saw that he had been watching me walk away.

"That was weird. I don't think I have ever seen House be nice. To anyone." Lisa said, sitting down at her desk.

"Huh," I mumbled, although the information that this guy was uncharacteristically nice to me kind of made me happy. "So, Lisa, my God, this office is huge. How do you like being boss?" I asked, refocusing.

Lisa's face broke into a huge smile. "Well, I've been Dean of Medicine for five years now and I still love every minute of it. Plus, added bonus of being boss is you get to hire your friends, so I would say it is just about the perfect job."

"Yeah, Lisa, I can't tell you enough how grateful I am to you for taking this chance on me," I told her sincerely.

"I'm not taking a chance. I know you and I know you will be great." Lisa's great faith in people was one of her best and worst qualities.

"Yeah, but it couldn't have been easy to convince your board to hire me. I am barely 29 years old. I have been a lawyer for all of three years."

Lisa looked across the desk at me. "Yes, but you have already made a name for yourself as one of the toughest attorneys in Hollywood. Believe me, the board did not need much convincing. We need a shark like you on our side. Besides I need another young, hot woman in charge around here to help me keep all these grumpy old men in line."

I smiled at her, "See this is why I keep you around."

Lisa gave me a warm smile. "So how's Patrick and Rebecca?" she asked, referring to my twin brother and older sister.

"They're fine," I said. The truth was I hadn't spoken to Patrick in six months and Rebecca in over a year. We had been close growing up, especially Patrick and I, but after my parents had died, nothing was the same for any of us. It was easier to be on our own than to be around our siblings, who only served as reminders of our parents and the destroyed family we would never get back.

"That's good to hear," she told me, although I got the sense she didn't believe me.

I looked away from her and glanced around her office, taking in the rows of books and framed diplomas on the wall. "So what about you? How have you been?"

"I'm," she paused for second, thinking of something to say, and then, "busy," she finished, with a smile.

"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked, feigning interest in the mundane details of her life because that was the social game people played.

"Kind of sort of. He's a doctor over at Mercy West. We've been on a couple of dates," Lisa told me, a grin on her face. "What about you? How have you been doing since the break up?"

I looked away from her, not wanting her to see the hurt in my eyes. "I've definitely been better."

"I'm so sorry, Isabella."

I shrugged my shoulders at her. Talking about my personal pain was definitely not something I did with anyone, no matter how long I have known the person. "So, do I have a nice big office like yours?"

Lisa was taken aback by my sudden shift of topics, but she just shook it off. "Actually you do. It is on the fourth floor with an adjoining conference room and office for your personal assistant. We currently have two other lawyers in the department and their offices are next to yours. Would you like to see your office and meet your staff?"

"Of course!" I said, standing up.

We rode the elevator up to the fourth floor and Lisa took me to my office. It was beautiful. It had an exquisite oak wood door, with my name and title already in place. My desk was huge, complete with a leather ergonomic chair. A young man, probably in his early twenties, jumped up from the desk where he had been inputting data into the computer.

"Hi, Ms. Gallagher. I'm Will, your personal assistant," he said, thrusting his hand towards me. He was cute, in a California surfer boy kind of way. I laughed at the irony of a blond surfer dude as my assistant in the middle of New Jersey.

"Hi, Will. It's nice to meet you." I said, shaking his hand.

"Isabella, if you don't have any other questions, I have to get back to a situation with one of my doctors, but do you want to meet for lunch in the cafeteria?" Lisa walked back towards the elevator.

"Sounds great." I told her as she stepped into the elevator. I turned my attention back to Will. "So, Will, Dr. Cuddy told me that there are two other lawyers working here?"

"Yes there are. I can set up a meeting with them for later this morning. How does 11 sound?"

"Sounds good." I walked over to my desk and sat down. There was a Blackberry synching with the computer on my desk. "Is this yours?" I pointed to the Blackberry.

"No, that one is yours. I already set it up to sync with both your computer and mine."

I picked the phone up and smiled. 'Wow,' I thought, 'I get perks and everything.'

Will pointed to a small stack of files at the corner of my desk. "These are all the current cases we have at the moment. I can set up intake appointments with all these clients. When should I make those for?"

I looked at the files and counted about 6. "Go ahead and make those appointments for tomorrow. I'll be ready."

"Great, and what times can I make those appointments for?"

"Um, unless I say otherwise, you can just go ahead and make appointments between the hours of 9 and 4. That should work."

"Perfect. If you have any questions, just call me. I'll let you get to your reading."

"Thanks, Will." I watched him leave the room. I picked up the phone and started tooling around with it, when my desk phone beeped.

I pushed the intercom button, "Yes?"

"Ms. Gallagher, I have Dr. House here wanting to speak with you." Will told me.

I looked through the little window into Will's office and saw Dr. House standing there, looking into my office. Our eyes met for a brief second, before I responded to Will. "Send him in." I leaned back in my chair, waiting. The minute he walked in, I asked, "Having legal troubles already, Greg?"

He smirked a little and took a seat across from me. He fished a prescription bottle from his jacket pocket and took two white pills. "So, you are the new lawyer," he stated, looking around my office.

"Yes." I watched him tap his cane on the floor and thought it must be a nervous habit.

"And the youngest daughter of Drs. Owen and Kathleen Gallagher, authors of that big fancy nephrology textbook everyone uses." He watched me carefully as he spoke.

"Impressive. You know how to use the Internet," I snidely replied. "What else did you find out?"

He looked at me with a slight smile on his lips. "That you were at the top of your class at Georgetown, were immediately scooped up by the biggest entertainment law firm in Los Angeles and in the three years you were there you quickly made a name for yourself as a ruthless little pixie."

"Fascinating. You know my history better than I do," I said, a little smirk on my face.

"I was curious."

"Is your curiosity satisfied?"

His eyes locked onto mine. His stare was intense, like he was staring into my soul. "Not even close."

I leaned forward in my chair, placing both arms on my desk and intertwining my fingers. "You know, Lisa warned me about you, before I even moved out here."

His gaze did not waver. It only intensified. He had the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, but there was a sadness, a hidden pain, that lay within. "Cuddy lies," he said, with just a hint of amusement.

"She said you were a Vicodin junkie, pain in the ass who would cause me more problems than anybody else on staff and all while inappropriately staring at my chest." I paused to watch his reaction, but I couldn't read him. He just sat there rubbing his stubbled chin. "Is that true?"

He looked away, tapped his cane three quick times and looked back at me. "Would you want to go to dinner with me. Tonight?" he asked, with a glint in his eye.

I was taken aback, but I didn't want him to see it. Instead I just stared into those stunning baby blue eyes of his and said, "You can pick me up at 7." I wrote my new address on a small piece of paper and handed it to him.

As he took it, his hand brushed over mine ever so slightly, but I could feel the heat. It was as if an electrical shock had shot down my spine. I could see in his eyes, he had felt it too. "All right then," he said and walked out of the office.

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The rest of my day went by in a blur. My little meet and greet with the other two attorneys, Daniel Paulson and Annette Woods, went very well. They seemed nice enough, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to become bestest best buds with them anytime soon. They got me up to speed on all outstanding cases and everything they were presently working on. At lunch with Lisa, I chose not to tell her about my dinner with Greg. There was something about the way the two interacted that told me nothing good would come from telling her. Finally, my day was done.

When I got to my apartment, I quickly threw my briefcase on one of the many still unpacked boxes in my living room and looked at the clock. He would be here in 20 minutes. I dashed into my bedroom and grabbed the dress I had mentally picked out on my way home. Throwing it on, I stood in front of the mirror, critiquing the finished product. The bright red mini dress hugged my body perfectly, showcasing my best features, namely my breasts and legs. I slipped into my black patent leather Jimmy Choo stiletto boots and walked into the living room. I fluffed my hair trying to put the bounce back into my curls and was pleasantly surprised when I saw I was successful. Then there was a knock at the door. I checked my reflection one more time and opened the door.

'God, is he sexy,' I thought. He was wearing a charcoal suit and sky blue dress shirt, opened at the collar, no tie and he had shaved. "Come in."

He could not take his eyes off me. "Wow," he said.

"Thanks, I think," I laughed. "Can I get you something to drink? I only have bourbon and Coke."

"I'll have a glass of bourbon," he said, his eyes caressing my curves.

"I was hoping you would say that." I smiled wide. "I'll be right back. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. Sorry about all the boxes."

I brought out two glasses of bourbon and found him sitting on the couch, his cane causally draped over his legs. I handed him a glass and took the other.

He tipped his glass at me and said, "Cheers." He took a sip and then looked around my rather small apartment. "You know, I would have thought the daughter of world famous, book writing doctors would be living in a nicer apartment."

"Yeah, well I would rather spend my parents' money on designer clothes," I told him truthfully, taking a drink of my bourbon. "So, do you live around here?"

"Over by the university more," he answered, a faint smile on his lips.

I leaned in towards him and placed my hand on his leg. "Greg, I'm going to be honest, I don't like small talk. I want to talk about real things, not bullshit about our likes and dislikes."

His gaze went from my hand on his leg to my eyes. I could see the unmistakable hint of glee in his eyes. "I like that in a woman."

"Good, then can I ask you a personal question?"

A devilish grin crept onto his face. "Sure. I can't guarantee I'll answer it honestly."

I giggled a little. "Fair enough." I paused, "Lisa told me you were a miserable misanthrope who hid in his office and avoided human interactions like the plague. And yet, you seek me out after a brief two-minute conversation. Why?"

"Oh, don't ruin it. Are you really that naïve?"

"Huh, so this decision was made solely by your penis." I took a swig of my drink.

"Why does that surprise you? You are an extremely attractive woman with a zesty bod. Plus, I figured you didn't know too much about me yet, so the odds that you would go out with me were high." He took another sip from his glass.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who extends dinner invitations to women just because they are attractive without knowing anything else about them."

He looked deeply into my eyes. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"Well, it's obvious you don't suffer fools, so I can't imagine you would date a woman you do not respect, who you think is a moron. Have sex with, yes, but have dinner with, spend an evening with, no."

He said nothing for a second as he downed the last of his bourbon. "Why did you agree to have dinner with me? I am almost ten years older than you and Cuddy had already shared her opinion of me with you."

"You intrigued me because of what Lisa had told me." I told him with a slight smile. "Did you think I wouldn't agree?"

"I thought I had a chance. You are not afraid to speak your mind and you don't tolerate bullshit, which often bodes well for me. I need a woman who can keep up with my acerbic wit." He smiled at me.

I leaned in closer, until our noses were almost touching. "Believe me, I can keep up. Besides, I think your acerbic wit is charming."

His hand ran slowly up my thigh, stopping right at my hemline. "Many find it annoying," he breathed.

He moved closer, tossing his cane aside. "Those people are not worth our time," I whispered before succumbing to his kiss.

It was electric. I cannot remember the last time I felt this kind of connection on a first date. There was something about him, something about the spark when we touched, that told me this relationship, however it turns out, would be unlike anything I had experienced before. His cheek was soft against mine. His hand slipped up the side of my dress and rested on my hip as he gently pushed me backwards into my couch. I ran my fingers through his hair as his body covered mine. His hands were everywhere as he kissed me, sliding up my back, running along my legs. His touch was electrifying and I never wanted him to stop.

"Let's go somewhere a little more comfortable," I suggested as his kissed my neck.

He hesitated for what seemed like forever. Finally, he said, "We should probably get to the restaurant." He sat up and grabbed his cane like a security blanket. The sadness I had noticed in him before seemed to return, as if it was his natural state of being.

"You're kidding, right?" I said, as he rubbed his right leg, grabbing a few pills from his pocket with the other hand, and suddenly I knew the source of his sadness and why he was hesitating. "What happened to your leg?" I asked softly.

He looked down and continued to rub his leg. "I had an infarction in my thigh. It was diagnosed too late, causing muscle death, which the idiot surgeons then removed," he told me matter of factly, punctuating the statement with a loud thud from his cane.

"And so, because of that you can't have any fun?" I pulled him back towards me by his collar and kissed him, passionately. "Look, I hate all those dating games people play, so I am going to cut the bullshit and just lay it all on the line for you." He finally met my gaze as I continued, "I can't explain it, but I feel something powerful between us. I felt it the minute we shook hands this morning. I have never felt this kind of connection before. Now if you feel the same way, I think we should explore this to its fullest right now. If you don't, then we should go to dinner and take it from there."

He was silent for a minute, searching my eyes. Then, as his gaze settled on my breasts, he asked, "Where's your bedroom?"

I smiled and got up from the coach. "It's right this way." I held out my hand and he grabbed it. I led him into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. He threw his cane on the floor and climbed in next to me. We undressed each other quickly and then made passionate love for the first time. Somehow, I knew it would not be the last. Afterwards, I lay on my back wrapped in his strong, muscular arms, my head resting on his chest.

"So are you Catholic or Anglican?" he asked, casually breaking the silence.

I was a little shocked by his question, not exactly sure what he was talking about. "What?"

"With a name like Gallagher, hair that red, skin that porcelain white and freckles covering ninety percent of your body, I assume your Irish. I was just wondering what part of the island."

"Wow, that is a really roundabout way to ask me where I'm from," I joked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's more fun for me this way."

I chuckled a little to myself before I spoke. "Well, I'm neither, but my parents were Irish Catholics who came here from Dublin when they first got married."

"Interesting," he muttered to himself. We fell back into the silence for a few more minutes, just enjoying the moment.

As he lazily stroked my arm, I asked, "So are you really as miserable and damaged as everyone seems to think you are?"

His hand moved from my arm to my stomach as he thought of an answer. "Miserable, no. Damaged, probably."

"What made you so damaged?"

"If I tell you, you have to tell me what made you so damaged."

"Why do you think I'm damaged?" I asked, a little taken aback by his statement.

"Nobody who moves clear across the country for a job is completely whole. And most women who are as blunt as you are have become that way as a survival mechanism because somewhere along the way, someone broke them."

I was quiet for a minute, knowing full well that he was right. "Okay, it's a deal."

He grabbed me tighter around the waist, as if he was desperate for as much human contact as he could get. "Well, the leg thing is pretty obvious. I live in constant, continuous pain. When it happened, the woman I was living with, who was also my medical proxy, made the decision, against my wishes, to remove the damaged muscle, essentially crippling me. About six months after the surgery, in the middle of my rehab, she left. I don't really have much family. I'm an only child and I don't get along with my father. Stacy was just about the only family I had ever really been able to count on and then she, well she did what she did."

I was shocked by his admission. From what Lisa had told me about him, I had gathered that he didn't talk about himself or his feelings to anyone and it was that characteristic that the people around him found most frustrating, but I had identified with. The ease with which he had confided in me only served to reinforce what I had already guessed: there was a strange, unexplainable pull between the two of us. I rolled over onto my side to face him and caught him just staring at the ceiling.

When he felt me move, he looked over at me. "Your turn," he told me, with a forced smile.

I looked down, not quite wanting to meet his eyes. "My parents died in a car crash when I was a junior in high school, which I assume you already knew." I glanced up at him and he quietly nodded his head in confirmation. I looked away and continued my story, "After they died, my older sister waited around long enough to see me and my brother graduate and then moved to London as quickly as she could with her share of the small fortune we inherited. My brother and I almost immediately moved away to different colleges. I don't talk to either of them much anymore. It's not that I hate them or anything; it's just easier this way. My law school boyfriend, who I moved out to California with because I thought he might be the one, ended up cheating on me after seven years together. We broke up four months before I moved here."

I felt his hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes, just wanting to feel his touch. He gave me a kiss. "That guy was an idiot," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I chuckled, "Yeah, well the blonde bimbo he's fucking doesn't think so."

He gave me a genuine smile. "I told you. You are just as damaged as I am."

"Do you think there is any hope for us?" I asked, quietly.

"Hope is for sissies," he answered, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Great, so we are damaged AND hopeless," I shot back, with a little smile.

He gave me another kiss, a deeper kiss. As he broke the kiss, he gave me a look that made me feel as if he was gazing into my soul. "Look, I am not any good at the big romantic speeches or gestures, but I agree with what you said earlier this evening, about feeling a strong connection."

I lightly stroked his cheek. "Good," I said quietly.

"Ditch this dumpy apartment and move in with me." He looked into my eyes, watching for a reaction.

I couldn't believe it. 'This was crazy. I cannot move in with a man I have known for less than 24 hours.' I thought. But something in my gut told me the right answer. "Okay, yeah, let's do it."