AN: This is a flashback story, but just to be safe, I'll say there are some vague spoilers through series one as far as House and Stacy are concerned. Thanks again to everyone who's given me feedback; I appreciate the time and effort.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, and I'm not making any money from this, so please don't sue me.
You Have Loved Enough
The volleyball went up into the air, and the man took a few steps before bringing his hand to meet the ball in a graceful arc. Then the volleyball flew squarely into the net.
"Nice try," House said, straightening from his crouch. "Why don't you go back to pediatrics or whatever it is you do for a real job?"
"Hey," Wilson said, placing his hands on his hips, "I was a band geek in high school."
House passed the volleyball from one hand to another. Should he go for a no-frills serve or pummel Wilson with a jump? "That explains your strategy, which seems to consist of taking your shirt off and blinding the opposition with your pallor."
"Ooh…oh…" Wilson clutched his chest dramatically and fell on his back in the sand.
"Greg, are you hurting my husband?" Sara called. She and Stacy were watching the game from their nearby beach chairs. House let his gaze drift in that direction; he'd use any excuse he could find to look at Stacy in a swimsuit.
"Please," House said. "He's a big boy. He can handle it."
"He jests at scars that never felt a wound," Wilson said, voice muffled by his position on the sand.
House spun the volleyball on one finger. "Come on. Get up so I can beat you without cheating."
Wilson propped himself up on his elbows. "You know, you could at least try to be a gracious winner."
House pretended to consider it, then shook his head. "Nah."
"Greg," Stacy said, "turn this way so I can ogle you."
House looked at Stacy, then at Wilson. "Some people are so shallow."
"Right," Stacy said, "because you haven't been turning and stretching so you can stare at my ass."
Nice. House gave Stacy a withering look. "Not everything is about your ass, Stacy." He tossed the ball easily into the air and went sailing up after it; it was definitely time for a jump serve. The ball crashed into the sand, sending up a slight spray as it hit the ground at Wilson's feet.
"I give up," Wilson groaned. "Now can you please stop kicking my ass?"
"Not everything's about your ass either," House said wryly.
"Some of us would disagree," Sara said.
House rolled his eyes. "Some of us are certifiable."
"Hey!" Wilson said. "Insult me all you want, but leave Sara out of it."
"Haven't you gotten the memo?" Stacy asked. "He insults us because he cares."
"I care?" House said. "Let me see that memo. I don't think it's legitimate."
Sara stood, crossing to Wilson. "Well, I still love you, even if you are a band geek."
Wilson smiled, putting his arms around her. "Thank you. You hungry?"
Sara nodded, snuggling against him. "Mm-hmm."
Ye gods, public displays of affection. House fought the urge to clear his throat until Sara and Wilson stopped stroking each other. Wilson didn't seem to have any problems with it, but if Stacy had tried cuddling with House in front of Wilson, House suspected he'd be about as responsive as a cedar block. Love was love. You shouldn't have to prove it to spectators.
"We're gonna go get lunch," Wilson said. "See you guys later."
House waited until Wilson was turned away from him. "Hey, Wilson? Nice ass."
"Yeah, yeah," Wilson said, not bothering to face House.
Stacy swatted House with the novel she was reading. Grisham. Even on the beach she couldn't get away from the law. "Don't make comments like that in front of your girlfriend."
House hated the word "girlfriend", but he put up with it from Stacy. "If I can't play with Wilson's mind, life is meaningless."
"And what part of me would you like to play with?" Stacy asked, her voice growing husky.
House quirked an eyebrow. "If you haven't figured out by now, I'm not sure I can explain it to you."
Stacy leaned in so her face was inches away from House's. "Show me."