Not the Life I Need

So, I decided to take a break from working on 'Catching His Heart' (my Huddy fic) (don't worry, the ideas are still flowing) and write another one-shot. As I'm watching all the episodes over again, I get ideas to do 'What if's...'. This is one of them.

Enjoy!

This one-Shot is based on the scene in Stacy's attic in 'Hunting' Season Two, Episode 7.
House and Stacy are waiting for Steve McQueen, the rat, to get caught in the cage. This is my take on what could have happened after their conversation.

Stacy: You could have asked me how I was!

House: I already knew. Sorry you were miserable.

Stacy: Sorry I caused you so much pain.

Stacy felt her breath hitch in her throat as she locked eyes with him. God, why does he have to be so sexy? Stop, Stacy. You're married!

Suddenly, she was brought back to reality with a loud metal clang. She and House broke eye contact and looked towards the cage, where 'Steve McQueen' was trapped inside.

"See?" House said, knowingly as he turned towards the cage, "Told you he'll come out with us here."

Stacy smirked and shook her head, staring at the cage. Stealing a glance at the man beside her, she found his eyes on her. Their bodies were close to one another as they lay on the attic floor, watching the cage.

"What?" she asked, slowly.

House said nothing and continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling silently down her face. "I should have said something to you," he whispered, slowly. "I knew you were miserable."

"Greg…"

Leaning forward, House touched his lips to hers. She hesitated for a brief second and then opened her mouth wider, allowing him access. Her eyes fluttered closed as she breathed in the scent of his cologne.

After about thirty seconds, House pulled back. He watched Stacy's eyes open and look at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly.

Stacy reached her arm up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her, and kissed him again. Turning on his side on the attic floor, House brought an arm up and cupped her cheek, caressing her jaw bone with his thumb.

Their mouths stayed together, their tongues exploring each other's mouths until Stacy pulled back for air, as her heart hammered in her chest.

"That cannot be comfortable for you," she told him, looking at his position on the hardwood floor.

"It's not."

Standing up, Stacy reached her hand down to assist him in standing.

Once he was upright, House placed his hands on either side of her hips, pulling her closer to him as their mouths collided once more, hungrily yearning for each other.

Breaking apart after a few seconds, House leaned down and let his mouth trail along Stacy's collarbone, as he planted tiny kisses along the skin. Stacy leaned her face into his shoulder, taking in his scent.

Working her hands beneath House's t-shirt, she caressed his smooth stomach muscles, running her hands up and down the front of his body.

"Mark coming home soon?" House murmured against her skin, as his hands moved down to cup her breasts over her black shirt.

"Not for an hour and a half."

Picking his head up, House looked up at her, admiring how her black hair framed her face. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her, hungrily.

"God, I've missed you," he whispered, as he broke apart.

Stacy untangled herself from him, leaned down and grabbed his cane from off the floor.

"C'mon." Handing House's cane to him, she began to walk to the attic door.

"What about Steve?"

Stacy stopped and turned. House hadn't moved.

"What about him? He's a rat. He'll survive without monitoring for a little while."

Shrugging, House limped over to where Stacy was standing. "I hope you're right," he murmured, as he smirked and moved past her, beginning his journey down the stairs.

Once he was down the attic stairs, House turned around, waiting for Stacy. When she reached the landing, Stacy's hands were on his face, stroking the three days' worth of stubble.

"I've missed you too, Greg," she whispered, as their lips met again.

"Bedroom?" he muttered against her mouth, leaning his cane on the stair railing as his hands gripped her hips, his fingers working the button on her jeans.

"What, we can't fuck right here?" Stacy muttered, smiling against his mouth.

Chuckling, House broke off the kiss. "Up to you."

Taking his hand, Stacy led him down the hallway and into the bedroom. Once he shut the door, House gripped her hips again, lifting the hem of her black shirt as his thumb softly caressed her hip bone. Backing her up against the bed, his hands explored underneath her shirt, as her hands were on his face, their mouths never separating.

As Stacy's shirt came off, House lifted her breast out of the demi-cup bra she was wearing and bent down, his lips latching hungrily onto the erect nipple and sucking.

Bringing his hand around her back, House unhooked her bra and maneuvered her onto the bed so she was flat on her back. House came down on top of her after throwing the bra on the floor, as he kissed her neck and then trailed down to her breasts.

Stacy's hands reached down to undo her zipper and she pushed her jeans down around her ankles.

House pulled them off and threw them on the floor and then pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Stacy's hands caressed his bare stomach as they kissed passionately.

"Fuck me, Greg," she whimpered.

With Stacy's help, House managed to get his jeans and boxers off. As she saw his erect cock, Stacy felt a tingling sensation between her thighs.

"Not yet," House muttered, as he dived between her legs, his lips kissing around her inner thighs before moving his tongue to lap between her walls. He was greeted with moist wetness. Growling with anticipation, he dived, his tongue anxiously licking her labia.

Moaning softly, Stacy writhed beneath him with pleasure.

He smirked and stroked faster with his tongue, as he moved onto her clitoris. As she approached orgasm, Stacy yelled out. "Ohh, Greg, yes!" Her hands stroked through his hair as she enjoyed the ride.

After about fifteen seconds, House withdrew and came up to kiss Stacy on the lips. Her eyes fluttered open as he entered her.

She moaned, her breathing rapid. As their bodies grinded together, House looked down at her. Piercing blue met hazel as they stared at one another.

House grinded his hips faster and his cock entered further into her. Her eyes fluttered closed again and pulling him closer, they kissed again.

Wrapping her legs around his back, she broke apart and moved her face down to bury in his neck, in an effort to stifle her yelling.

Closing his eyes, House buried his face in her hair. "Oh God, Stacy," he whispered, as he neared orgasm.

He pumped into her one last time. Fast.

As they both finally slowed down, House nibbled on her earlobe, running his lips around the outer curve of her ear.

Finally pulling out, he rolled over on his back against the pillows, breathing heavily.

Next to him, Stacy turned on her side facing him and lightly kissed his shoulder. He looked down at her.

"We still got it."

She smirked. "Was this your plan all along? Help me find my rat in the hopes that I would succumb and betray my husband, and then sleep with you?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

Stacy punched him lightly on the arm. "You're a real bastard sometimes, you know that?"

"Is that my new pet name now?"

Another punch.

"Oww, stop that, woman!" House whined. "I sleep with you and then you beat me up?"

Smirking, Stacy said nothing. Flipping over on her stomach, she laid her head down on the pillow and turned to face him.

"I should have been open with you and I wasn't. After your surgery, I hated myself. You're right, I was miserable. I shut you out and I'm sorry," she whispered, as she began stroking his bare arm with her index finger.

"I'm sorry too."

"You realize this was a mistake, right? As much as I loved it, I - I'm not going to abandon Mark to be with you - "

"I'm not asking you to."

Frustrated, Stacy flipped over on her back, and stared up at the ceiling. "Why do you have to be so goddamn irresistible?" she muttered.

"I just had an affair, for Christ's sake. This is not me! ... What am I – I don't know what I'm doing…" She slid a hand down her face and exhaled, clearly disturbed.

House propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her. "If you are treating me as a placeholder for Mark because your marriage is on the rocks, that's the last thing I want here."

Turning toward him, Stacy opened her mouth to refute him. "That's not what I'm doing!" she told him, angrily. "I- "

"You can either tell Mark that you love him and this was just a one-time thing. He may not even have to know that this happened," House interrupted, "…or, you can have a life with me, again. But I'm not going to be the middle man."

"I wish this were simple," she muttered, frustrated.

"Oh it is."

Angrily, Stacy turned toward him. "For you, maybe it is, but not for me! I love Mark and god knows why I still love you but I do."

Exhaling, she turned on her side, facing him more directly.

"Greg, I love you and I probably always will, but I know that you won't change for me. You'll still be miserable and you'll still shut everyone out of your life at some point."

Opening his mouth to interrupt her, House didn't get the chance.

"Let me finish," she told him. "As crazy as this sounds, you're the person who I love to hate and hate to love. You'll always be the one for - "

"I could change!" House blurted out.

"No, Greg. You can't. You won't," Stacy told him, softly. "Not for me."

She stood up from the bed and moved away, with her back to him.

When she spoke, her voice wavered.

"You're the life I want," she whispered without turning around, her voice breaking, "but not the life I need."

THE END.