III.
Then, as soon as it had begun, it ended. House pulled back, and turned and left his office.
Stacy watched him disappear around a corner and felt her knees slowly give out, mind whirling. She sank into a chair and leaned her head back so she was looking at the ceiling, still feeling the unexpected, but gentle pressure of House's lips on hers. They tingled a bit, and she would have laughed had the situation been under different circumstances. But it hadn't, and so, willing strength into her body, she got up, exhaled, and went after him. She found him after only a minute of searching, because she knew him, and somehow she knew he would be with the one person he could trust, and that person was James Wilson.
"Can you excuse us a minute?" She asked through gritted teeth, then changed her mind and shook her head. "You know what, never mind." Taking a deep breath and willing her expression to stay cool and composed, she turned to House. "Never, ever do that again."
She spun on her heel and was out the door before you could say- uh, well, something long.
Wilson's expression suddenly changed to one of curiousness. "What did you do now, House?"
The blue-eyed diagnostician muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
Wilson grinned. "What was that?" Truthfully, he had no idea, but was eager to find out what it was.
House glared at him and repeated himself.
Wilson sighed. "I can't understand that."
"ShewasgoingonandonabouthowmuchIwasajerkandIkissedhertogethertoshutupitwasjustforthatIswear."
Wilson coughed. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Again, House, I can't understand you."
"Go to hell. You heard it just fine."
"I did not!"
House's gaze shot daggers at him. "She wouldn't shut up."
"And you did what, exactly?"
House stared sullenly at the floor, and Wilson sat straight up. "You didn't."
House didn't move.
A/N: Please review!