Disclaimer: Oh, no WAY do i own House...
Author's Note: For some reason, I recommend reading this while listening to Lifehouse's song 'You And Me'. It's wonderful.
Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears that she probably didn't want him to see. Her blue eyes, normally sharp and clear, were dull and saddened by the impossible loss of him. And when she spoke, her voice was choked with suppressed emotion. "I thought that you were too screwed up to love anyone."
Gee, House thought. Thanks so much for the lovely compliment.
She gave a tiny, almost indiscernible shrug of the shoulders. "But…I guess you just couldn't love me." She looked into his eyes, and all of a sudden…
He saw it. Everything that he'd ever felt or wanted to feel with Stacy was right there, glistening wet and strong in her irises. There was…he swallowed…love, hate, and most terrifyingly enough, trust.
She blinked, and it startled him out of his (most likely Vicodin induced) haze. Her lips attempted to twitch up, and her eyes darted past his shoulder to look at Stacy before returning to him. And her eyes seemed to send a message to him, that had never seemed more scary or more real than any other moment:
Goodbye, House.
And she began to walk away.
000
He watched as Stacy made her way out of his office, obviously having expected to leave him weak in the knees with lust for her. Well, he had some news for Stacy: He was pretty much always weak in the knee (well, thigh) thanks to her, and there was no way that what he was feeling was lust.
It was…remorse.
The whole time that she had inched closer, telling him that she knew he was always going to be 'The One', and left a kiss that obviously TRYING to seduce him…he wasn't even thinking about her. He wasn't thinking about the mistakes he'd made in letting this particular brunette go.
Instead, he was closing his eyes and cursing himself for pushing away a young doctor that was close to fifteen years his junior.
000
She hadn't even made it out of the parking lot.
She'd had every intention to tell him what was running through her mind, and then to leave the hospital to go home, but she found herself slumped in her driver's seat, hands firmly clutched at ten and two and her head leaning against her forearms. Tears were slipping quickly down her cheeks, and she was even making the occasional sad sniffle.
Suddenly, there was a distinct rapping on her car window, and she looked out of the corner of her eye to see House standing there. She jumped, startled, and hit her head on the rear view mirror.
"Agh," she groaned, rubbing her palm over the area. She removed her hand and reached for the door. Opening it, she stood up and faced him. "Is there something you would like?"
"Yes," he said. "A million dollars and a cure for Cuddy, but I don't think the second one's going to happen." She rolled her eyes.
"Whatever you want to say…" She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Say it and leave me alone."
"Ah." He looked down at his Nike Shox. "You're angry at me." He looked up at her through his eyelashes, expecting her to agree and make some comment about him being a bastard.
So you can imagine his surprise when she shook her head. "I'm not mad at you." She reached out a hand and let it hover about two inches away from his face before it dropped by her side again. "I'm mad at me."
She took a small step backwards, gave him a forced smile, and seated herself back into her car and shut the door. She was just starting up the ignition (never having actually turned it on) when her passenger side door opened up and a cane was shoved inside, House soon following after. "What are you doing?" she asked, stunned.
"I'm buckling up," he said as he did just that. When the metal clip was firmly in place, he briefly ran his hand up the strap before dropping down to the arm rest. He looked at her shocked face, expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to drive?"
She shook her head, put her car in gear, and pulled out of her spot. "I'm never going to understand you, am I?" she mused, pulling to a stop at the guard's station.
House didn't answer; he was looking out his window when he saw Stacy coming out of the garage, a barely concealed smirk deforming her features. He turned to look at Cameron, who was exchanging small talk with Roger, the guard, and said, "Quick, look at this!"
She turned to see what he was talking about, and he immediately cupped her face in his two strong hands and pulled her close to him. Their lips were a hair's width apart, and she whispered against his smooth skin, "What are you doing?"
"Shutting you up," was his murmured reply before her lips were firmly captured beneath his. She inhaled sharply at the contact, bringing her hands off of the steering and wrapping her arms around his neck. Their lips pressed against each other, all the tension that was from months of want was exploding between them, sending crackles of electricity throughout both of their bodies…and House could have sworn that it took the pain in his leg away.
His kisses with Stacy had never been anything like this. Her kisses, he decided, would never compare to those of Allison Cameron. She wasn't making him weak in the knee…she was making him stronger there.
He opened his eyes briefly as he slipped his tongue into Cameron's mouth, and darted his eyes to the corners of them. He saw Stacy, standing in front of Cameron's car with her mouth hanging open. She shut it quickly when she saw him look, and he almost smirked against Cameron's mouth. His eyes rolled shut, however, when she began to respond with fervor.
When they pulled away for air, neither of them noticed that Stacy had long since been gone.
"Well," Cameron breathed, her mouth still dangerously close to his. "What do you say we get out of here?"
House nodded, pulling away to settle back against his seat. "Lead the way."
000
Her head was pillowed against his chest, the combination of her shampoo and a few errant hairs was making his nose itch. Her left hand was drawing random patterns on his t-shirt, and her face was buried in the crook of his neck. He could feel her breath, steady and reassuring, against his pulse, her breathing unconsciously matching his own. Her legs were thrown away from his, but only slightly. Her left leg was pressed lightly against his own, and her hair was pulled away from it's clip.
He looked down at her as her eyes slipped shut, exhaustion finally making itself present. She yawned against his skin, and slowly but surely the hand movements stopped as she fell asleep.
And he couldn't help but think, as he looked down at her, that Stacy might have believed that he would always be 'The One' for her…but it would take a lot to convince him that Allison Cameron wasn't steadily becoming 'The One' for him.
The End