A/N: This is two firsts in one for me. It is both my first songfic and my first House fanfic. So please be as critical as you like because I need to know whether I write House fics well as I am sporadically working on another one that I really want to do well on. The bits in bold (like this) are song lyrics.

Disclaimer: I do not own House. If I did, I would spend my time hanging around with Hugh Laurie (House) and Robert Sean Leonard (Wilson) instead of writing fanfics. Also, I don't own the song 'Poison' which is probably owned by Alice Cooper and whatever record company he was signed to at that point. Nor do I own the song 'Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me' to which I make a brief homage to in one of the later paragraphs. That song is owned by U2 and whatever record company theywere signed to.

House stood, slightly unsteady, in front of the fireplace and tipped up the glass, letting the amber liquid pour down his throat. He didn't usually drink much – Vicodin and alcohol don't mix well – but Stacey had been preying on his mind.

Your cruel device.

He was going to try walking without his cane. It was a stupid idea, but he was at least slightly drunk so it didn't matter to him. Maybe if he could walk again, he could forgive her. And if he could forgive her, they could love each other again. If he were sober and thinking straight, he'd know that it was the stupidest idea ever. She was married. He was bitter.

Your blood like ice.

He took a deep breath, readying himself for the pain. He could do this, he could do this. He'd show her that he could. After all those icy looks she had given him over the last few days, he would walk up to her and show her he was good enough.

One look could kill.

He began to take a step onto his right leg, stretching it out. He tentatively put weight on it, letting that weakened right leg take his... and it crumpled beneath him with an overwhelming surge of pain that sobered him in moments and took his breath away. He fell to his knees, leaning on the armchair, and gasped for air.

My pain, your thrill.

House can't even walk for Stacey. Leaning heavily on his left leg and using the arm of the chair for support, he maneuvered himself onto the piano stool. His eyes were close to watering with the sheer agony. Waves of nagging pain shot repeatedly through his nerves. Shit. He can't even do that one thing for her. It wasn't as if she would have come back to him anyway. She was forbidden fruit.

I wanna love you but I'd better not touch. (Don't touch).

House began a swift, silent argument with himself. Stacey had hugged him. She'd even said that she wasn't over him. That meant that he still had a chance, right? But no, she was married, she'd said that she wasn't interested. Damn it. He couldn't stand being near her, but being with her was the one thing in the world that he wanted most.

I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop.

He sighed and took out his Vicodin bottle, examining it morosely. Damn, damn, damn, why did he still have to love her? He would do anything for her for just one kiss... anything except forgive her for what she did. But he remembered all those kisses they had shared and he longed for another.

I wanna kiss you but I want it too much. (Too much).

He wanted to taste her in his mouth instead of Vicodin.

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison.

You're poison runnin' through my veins.

You're poison.

I don't wanna break these chains.

House tapped out a single pill, flicked it into the air and watched it fall, catching it deftly in his mouth. He swallowed it dry, ignoring the flavor, and waited for the medication to take effect. His mind was still on the last kiss that he had really enjoyed with Stacey, all the sensations that he could remember.

Your mouth, so hot.

She probably didn't even know how House felt. She knew that he wasn't over her, but did she really know how he was feeling? Did she really know all the complexities involved? He was hers in almost all but name. Except that he couldn't forgive her. He was so caught up that he didn't know what to think. And his leg was still hurting like hell.

Your web, I'm caught.

His mind wandered back even further, to the last night he had spent with Stacey before the infarction. She had been wearing that black lace and silk night dress.

Your skin, so wet.

Running his hands over her body. Hearing her gasping breaths. Groaning her name. Hearing her moan his.

Black lace on sweat.

But those times were gone. There was no point in thinking about it when nothing would come of it. His thoughts deviated to the last few days, when he had been treating her... her husband. Her voice hadn't been so welcome then.

I hear you call and it's like needles and pins. (And pins).

House loved her. He knew that. But he also hated her. She was the reason that his leg refused to stop bothering him, the reason that he couldn't even walk across the room. He wanted to hurt her just as much as he wanted to hold her.

I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name.

He wanted to just forget about her. He wanted to avoid her for another five years, perhaps even longer. But he couldn't get rid of her. She was working in the same damn hospital. She was like an itch which he longed to scratch but couldn't reach. She was under his skin and it irritated him like hell.

Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin. (Deep in).

The pain from his leg was finally beginning to ease. House leant his head on his hands and sighed. He wanted Stacey there in that room. All he needed was ten minutes with her completely in his power and he would be satisfied. He could hold her, thrill her, kiss her, even kill her...

I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison.

You're poison running through my veins.

You're poison.

I don't wanna break these chains.

Poison.

Stacey is Greg's poison.