AN: Hey, people! So, this is just a one-shot on what I thought it could be like if House ever met Maura. I don't know if makes total sense, but here it is. I'm sorry for any OOCness and spelling or grammar errors, english is not my mother tongue. Anyway, enjoy it. R&R

Of lies, loves and dead bodies

House got to the clinic entrance with a sigh. He hated this; It was the most boring part of being a doctor. There was no mystery, no excitement, no nothing; Just a bunch of running noses and STD's. Sometimes he even thought the night janitor had a more appealing job.

But he had to do it. Not because of some stupid rule written on a piece of paper by some even more stupid old people, but because she'd ask him to do it. To get him to do clinic duty was part of her job and her job was important to her. And House had learned the hard way that what's important to Cuddy must to be important to him too. Part of the 'being a couple' thing.

So, after looking briefly at her distant figure sitting behind her desk, House grabbed the file at the top of the pile and walked to the exam room 2, where the patient would be waiting. He opened the door to find a woman in her late thirties, with wavy blond hair, sitting calmly at the litter, looking at him with apprehensive eyes.

"Good morning..." he announced out loud and opened the file, looking for her name to complete the sentence. When House saw the name on the first line of the paper, he frowned. "I know who you are," he said before looking curiously at her.

"Yes. My name is on the file. This is why they gave it to you..." she said in a explicative tone and was about to continue when he interrupted.

"No," he rolled his eyes. Why people on clinic had to be always such morons? "I meant I know who you are. You're that crazy Boston ME who performed an autopsy in the middle of Massachusetts Annual Marathon," he said before sitting and open her file. "Pretty impressive," he said pretending to be distract by her file.

"Maura Isles," she introduced herself before responding to his comment. "Thank you," she said politely with a proud smile. "Even though the 'crazy' comment was rather rude."

"Oh, she thinks I'm rude," he faked a pout. "How cute..." he said on false sweet tone and she just kept staring at him with a frown, as if trying to understand the proposition of his comment. For some reason, sarcasm was a bit confusing for Maura. As a logical person, she hated the lack of objectivity.

"I didn't say that. I meant your comment was rude. I don't know you long enough to determinate what kind of personality..." she started in her habitual technical tone.

House looked at her with curiosity. The woman was a genius, famous in all the medical community, but he would never imagine Maura Isles as such an interesting figure.

"Well even a five years old would've guessed," he answered sarcastic, still observing her intently.

"I don't guess," she answered quick and simply.

"That's stupid. You can't find an answer without basing it on a guess," he said.

"You find the real facts when you base your searching on the proofs; Scientific proof. Guessing only leads to wrong answers," she argued back.

"And no guessing leads to no answer."

"No answer means you still can find the right one."

"Unless you don't have time for it," he said and she raised her eyebrows. "If I haven't guessed, I wouldn't have saved half of my patients."

"And if I have, half of the Boston State Prison would be filled with innocent people," she stated in a professional tone. She wasn't mad or heated by their little philosophic argument; She was just making her point and giving her arguments, politely, just like that.

"That is a guess," he stated with a victory smile.

"No, in fact, it is not. It's an statistic fact that almost 50% of the mistaken prisons are made out of assumptions and a poor evaluation of the evidence," she said with a certain authority. House just looked at her while a weird silence took place at the room. Maura looked hesitantly at him, unsure if she should say what she was about to. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"Yes. It wouldn't make sense if I wanted to ask a question without waiting for..." she started with a confusing look when he once again interrupted.

"God! Stop being so literal," he said annoyed.

"What happened to your leg?" she finally asked before giving a quick look at his damaged thigh.

"Fell off my bike while chasing a rainbow," he answered faking a dramatic face.

"You're lying," she said obviously.

"Oh, really? What gave me away?" he said sarcastic, like a kid after getting caught in action; But she kept looking at him, waiting for an honesty answer. "I've been on a car accident," he finally answered, trying to dismiss her curiosity without having to tell about his personal life.

"You're lying again," she said at the same tone as the first time. House looked at her even more intrigued; How could she be so sure? "You're good, but I still can see your occipital orbital contract as you mention the car," she explained with the proud smile of a kid getting a medal at some school nerd competition. "You answer my questions and I'll answer yours."

"Why do you think I want to ask you anything?"

"The way you lean forward and squeeze your eyes when I'm talking says I intrigue you in some way," she said with a victory smile.

"And how do I know you're not lying?" he asked unsure.

"I don't lie."

"Everybody lies."

"Well, I don't. I can't."

"It doesn't matter how much of a stupid moralist you think you are..." he started to say but this time it was Maura who cut him off.

"I didn't mean I can't for a moral proposal. 97% of the American people admit to lie rather frequently despite their moral concept," she said.

"And the other 3% are lying."

"Not in my case. I can't lie; Biologically. I'm incapable of it."

"So you've never lied?" he asked in a mix of interest and suspicion.

"I tried, once; When I was eight I told I had done my homework when I didn't and I got vasovagal. When I try to lie, I start to panic, sweat, hyperventilate," she answered and watched him looking distantly, like he'd made a big discovery or something; she couldn't exactly say.

"OK," he finally said. "I had an infarction on the muscle. The doctors removed the infected tissue."

"You could have amputated," she said with a sorry look. "At least you wouldn't be in pain."

"This doesn't sound like a question," he stated matter-of-factually.

"OK, what do you wanna know?" Maura asked exited. She wasn't that much of a competitive person but she loved games. It was part of her personality.

"Why did you choose to be an ME?" he asked, catching her off guard. "Most of doctors go to med school to help people, save lives, be a hero. But your patients are already dead."

"I do help people with my job, Dr House. I mean... I... I became a doctor because I believe in science, more than anything. I believe in how it can help people. And I like precision, I like objective answers. Besides, people spend too much time lying, complaining, judging. But not the dead. They tell me exactly who they were. As much honestly as silently."

"Clever choice," he joked. "You choose the dead to not to be forced into interaction. Most of people find life fascinating, but you see it in death."

"The human being itself is fascinating. It amazes me how people spend their whole life creating bounders and differences when we will all end up the same way."

"If everybody thought that way we would have a massive suicide wave. There's no point in living if in the end nothing you do will matter. You need to find..." he would continue if she hasn't finished the sentence first.

"Something that worth living for," she smiled. " Have you ever fallen in love?"

"I knew it was just a matter of time for the girl talking to start..." he rolled his eyes. "I have fallen in love."

"Elaborate," she asked with an expectant look.

"You ask a question, I answer, then I ask a question," he explained as if talking to a kid. "Do I need to draw? I thought you were one of the high IQ, socially awkward genius..." he completed and she rolled her eyes discreetly, not moved by his sarcasm.

"In fact, an elaboration does not qualify as a question," she argued.

"Alright; We had an one night stand in med school, then a few years ago we met up again and now we're together. Happy?" he told trying to sound as bored and contradicted as he could. His history with Cuddy was far more complicated than that, but he wouldn't specify it anymore than he had to.

"So you're still together?" she asked interested and he could already sense the fluffiness in her tone.

"Yep. Until she decides to shoot me..." he starter, joking.

"You think you don't deserve her," she said with a hint of something he thought was amusement, for supposedly figure him out.

"And here we go for another therapy session... I thought you were a pathologist," he said annoyed.

"I've done two years of forensic psychiatry," she answered once again with her proud smile. "But you do think she will eventually leave you," she said, half asking half stating.

"Every relationship is fated to come to an end."

"It's not a reason not to try."

"You're single, right?"


"But you already fell in love for someone, right?"

She pause for a moment and looked hesitantly at him. "Yes," she finally answered and lowered her eyes.

"That is the point. You fall in love and get into a relationship with intentions of making it last when in fact it never does. Love is not enough and when you found out is when you get hurt."

"Knowing from the start doesn't make it hurt less."

"No it doesn't." he answered in a firm but still sad tone. "So, what is your story?" he said as if talking to a drunk guy on a bar. She decided to ignore his rude tone this time.

"I met him after college. We fell in love, got engaged... Until our lives became to part, until each one decided to go your own way. Then I met him again during a case last year; We found his brother corpses on a bay. And when we met, the thing were still there, you know? I still loved him. Then we kind of..." she started and he saw her blush, probably embarrassed to say it.

"OK, you had a flashback, so?" he completed for her, impatient with her dramatization of the facts.

"It turned out he had killed his brother."

"Sorry," he said quickly, not looking at her.

"Why?" she asked and he looked up at her, surprised. "I mean, you don't know me, or him."

"It's a sympathetic expression. It doesn't mean I'm really feeling bad for you," he explained as if stating the obvious.

"Aren't you the one who claims to be against the hypocrisy of the social contracts?" she raised her eyebrows with an amused expression. Of course she'd heard of him; He had as much reputation as her, just that his case was the other way around.

"I am... or was," he said and she could almost see he was in a fight with himself. "Somethings change."

"People change."

"No, they don't. Circumstances change, people stay the same."

"Circumstances change people; all the time. You know, you can cross a river as much time as you want, but it will never be a reaped move; You're not the same, and neither is the river."

"What you really are, never change."

"What you are is defined by your experiences. If circumstances change and you have new experiences, it changes your view of the world; It changes who you are."

"It doesn't mean you change how you act."

"You just told me you were sorry."

"OK, end of the game. What the hell are you doing here anyway?" he said changing quickly the subject while she chuckled.

"I'm on a conference here in Jersey and I forgot my pain killers," she explained simply. "I had cramps while doing yoga. In fact, I feel little unbalanced. Must have been the hotel room; I hate hotel rooms..."

"OK, so you want a prescription for back ache. I'll call a nurse."

"You're not even going to exam, make sure?" she asked in a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Don't need. I can see your discomfort," he said simply and got to the door giving the prescription to a nurse.

Maura just shrugged and stood up from the litter, heading silently to the door.

"Besides..." he started again and she turned to him. "Social awkwardness, high IQ levels, excessive use of technical language... You get Aspergers syndrome." he stated with a triumphant smile.

She looked at him for a moment, as if trying to sort his words. After a moment she just raised her eyebrows slightly and smirked.

"Maybe... But now you're just guessing," she said cleverly before opening the door and leaving him alone in the room.