Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
A/N: I'm planning to explore this idea in detail in the Blood Brothers 'verse at a future date, but introducing it now because the finale was a great jumping off place for this story.
House's lips glide down Lisa's warm neck and he tenderly entwines his fingers with hers. She responds by leaning against him, two hard nipples pressing into his chest. He wants her. He needs her. He desires to carry her into the bedroom. Show her he's a new man, but there are limits. Instead, he tightens his grip, and a whimper vibrates in her throat. She sways in his arms, lust-crazed.
He closes his eyes and imagines them performing gravity defying somersaults into the bedroom. Like magic, he pulls her onto the mattress, enfolds her, and drinks deeply. She's better than he ever expected, but she isn't the best.
Strong hands come from behind and land on his shoulders. "Easy House, time to let up on the gas," cautions Wilson. He sounds like an anesthetist or a driving instructor. "Two fast-healing wounds this time. No throat ripping."
The whirl, the buzz, the colors recede, and House returns from his private world. The opalescent pallor of Lisa's face against her lush, dark hair becomes her. She's as still as a frozen stream caught in the moonlight. He checks her pulse, slow but fine.
He twists away and faces Wilson on the other side of the bed. Shadows dance on the walls from the sparks in Wilson's eyes. He knows his own must be contributing to the leaping images.
Wilson lowers his head and nips at his neck, but House stops him. "Tonight was a bitch."
"You mean the accident or Cuddy?"
"Everything. I tried saving a woman trapped in the rubble. Told Foreman I did everything right."
"You did everything humanly possible." Wilson soothes. "I warned you, House. An undead life isn't one eternal stand-up routine at the Zombie Lounge. Look at the bright side. Everyone except the clans live in blissful ignorance about the true reason for the crane operator's accident. And thanks to your fast thinking, the Count never had a chance to win Cuddy and Lucas over to his side. Must I remind you of your own words? Baby steps, House."
"Platitudes, Wilson." House sees and feels Wilson's ardor chill. The silver flares die down to pinpricks. Probably not a wise move to insult his main squeeze while his new girlfriend floats in an orgasmic haze beside him. Wilson deserves more than talk for accepting this latest turn of events. "Suppose you expect me to buy the first round of drinks in celebration of our new minion?" House grudgingly offers while tugging at his shirt to expose his carotid.
"Of course." Wilson's eyes burn bright again and his fangs appear. "Lisa's blood is mixed in with yours. I'm as curious about Huddy as everyone else."
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Comments welcome!