Back with another chapter. I don't own House, only Maria.

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Maria was still furious after the long walk back to the parking structure, ranting furiously in Spanish under her breath. Of all the people to run into, she hadn't expected to run into him.

Gregory House. Twenty-five years ago, he had shown up at the University of Michigan for med school, while she was in her last year of law school. They had run into each other at the bookstore at the start of the school year. Literally. She had been so focused on finding her textbooks that she had somehow missed the tall, gangly young man until her face met his chest.

When she looked up and met those brilliant blue eyes, she had nearly stopped breathing. He wasn't a traditionally handsome man, but there was something about him that attracted her.

That image had been ruined the minute House opened his mouth. Maria couldn't remember what he said, exactly. All she knew was that it was something rude.

At that time, she was quite fluent in English, having arrived from Mexico with her family in her late teens. She responded much quicker in Spanish, and let loose a flurry of curses that would have made her mother faint from shock.

House had barely responded at first. Finally a smile slowly crept across his smooth face. That's all it took to dissipate Maria's anger, and both of them had dissolved into laughter before going their separate ways.

They ran into each other again later that semester at some party hosted by a friend of hers. She was never quite sure how House had ended up there, but when he pulled her into a bedroom later that night, she didn't feel the need to ask any more questions.

And so had started something that had lasted well into the next semester, until she was called home upon her father's sudden death. She returned to school almost a month later, stopping by House's off campus apartment to explain her sudden disappearance.

Another woman had answered the door, followed by House's voice calling out, "Who's that?" Maria had been so angry that she had simply turned and run down the steps back to her car. She had known almost from the beginning that it was purely physical for him, but she was still appalled that he had apparently moved on so easily.

She threw herself into the remainder of her course work, making up what she had missed and graduating law school with honors, barely giving House a second thought.

That was until today, when he had strode into the Dean of Medicine's office, all six feet plus of him. He walked with a cane now, and his hair was gray, his face like a road map of the life he had lived.

Those blue eyes were still the same, and it had take all Maria had to maintain her professional composure as House plopped himself down into the chair and studied her. Once again, the image was ruined by his rude and sarcastic manner.

By the time she had left the office, she could feel her blood begin to boil. Suddenly it was 1985 all over again, all her memories of him rushing back to her. Oh, it had felt so good to unleash just a little of that rage on his rough face, to give him a little of the humiliation she had felt so long ago.

She was justified, Maria thought. But if she were justified, why did she feel guilty now instead of vindicated?

It didn't matter, she decided as she slid into her car and left the parking structure. Since her client had backed down and chosen to settle out of court, it was unlikely that she would see that arrogant bastardo again.

So why did she find her mind drifting back to him? Maria didn't have a good answer. She sighed as she pulled into her driveway and entered her house. Some things were better off left in the past. Gregory House was absolutely one of those things.

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House's cheek was still stinging from Maria's slap as he swung his leg over the back of his motorcycle to head for home. His mind continued to work at the mystery of her sudden appearance, coupled with her surprise attack.

She had managed to pack a hell of a lot of rage into that one slap, but then, she had always had a quick temper. It was the first thing he remembered about her. She had bumped into him at the college bookstore, and instead of apologizing, she had cursed him out. In Spanish, no less.

House knew then that Maria Velasquez was a woman he wanted to get to know. She wasn't classically beautiful. As a matter of fact, she was almost mousy as she hid behind that stack of text books. The minute she spoke, House decided she wasn't as plain as she appeared.

It wasn't easy to track her down after that, but House had a puzzle on his hands, and he wasn't ready to let it go. She had popped up again at that party that House hadn't even planned on attending that night, and he had spent a good deal of the evening observing her from a distance.

In that setting, Maria was completely unguarded, clearly among friends. House had found himself drawn to her, and had finally managed to approach her. A couple of drinks and some conversation later, he had no trouble convincing her to join him in one of the upstairs bedrooms. No one had even noticed they were gone.

They had spent the next few months together. She expanded his knowledge of Spanish, taught him some dance steps, and introduced him to the finer points of her home cuisine. House wasn't sure what she saw in him, but she seemed to enjoy his company, both in and out of the bedroom.

Over those few months, he had started to fall for Maria in a big way. Not that he would ever let her know that. She was graduating from law school that spring, and the chances of them staying together after that were remote at best. It was better to enjoy the physical pleasure she brought him than open himself to potential heartbreak.

House hadn't thought much of it when he didn't see Maria for a few days. They were both busy, throwing themselves into their respective class work. When one week turned into two, then three, House figured things were over between them. He was hurt, but had little trouble finding other companionship to fill the void.

A month or so later, someone had knocked on House's apartment door. The girl he was seeing jumped up to answer, expecting her friend that was picking her up. He thought he had heard Maria's voice, but the girl had told him that whoever it was had the wrong apartment.

House was sure the girl was lying, but wasn't concerned enough about it to investigate further. In time, the memory of his time with Maria faded to the back of his mind. Occasionally something would trigger a memory, the way someone laughed, a slightly accented voice, a whiff of a familiar perfume.

Seeing her today had brought that time in House's life back in a rush. To say he was surprised to see her seated on that couch in Cuddy's office was an understatement. It had taken everything he had to not let it show.

Now that he knew she was in Princeton, both his memory and the mystery were alive and well. Clearly she was less than delighted to see him. His mission now was to find out why.

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