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Tags: you were the one house fanfiction
Published : 2 years, 5 months ago (Fri, 23 Jun 2006 08:36:30 PDT)
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http://sassydew.livejournal.com/4574.html 20 links
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As usual, I welcome any and all comments, suggestions, feeback, constructive criticism, etc. :)
Note: It is my understanding that there are no pending copyrights on literature more than 100 years old; since the Byron poem in this chapter was written in 1824, I believe it is okay to include it here.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters belong to David Shore, et. al. I'm just borrowing them so that I can satisfy my desire to know what happened with House and Stacy BEFORE...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Where Ch. 9 ended:
“Not all fantasies are meant to come true!” How does she know what he’s thinking? “Anyway, I hear floor sex can be pretty good…” She’s still laughing as their mouths and bodies come together once again…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next day Stacy meets Jill, her old college friend who is now a freelance lobbyist, for lunch at a cafe near her office. Stacy explains that she won’t be staying with her after all since she’s met Greg.
“You just met this man exactly one week ago – at a strip club, no less – and now you’re moving in with him?” Jill stares at her in disbelief.
Stacy’s not sure how to explain this, so she only nods as she stabs a cherry tomato off the top of her salad and puts it in her mouth.
“Stace, we’ve been friends since sophomore year of college. That’s over 15 years – and I’ve never known you to be so impulsive. In fact, you’ve always been annoyingly rational. So what gives?”
Stacy looks thoughtful for a moment and does this thing she does where she pulls her shoulders up and moves her head to the side. “I know. I know you think it’s crazy. I think it’s crazy. But I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s…he’s…” She struggles for the right words to describe him. “He’s brilliant, well-read, confident, a bit arrogant, actually--”
“Always a good quality in a man,” Jill says sarcastically, pouring dressing on her salad.
Stacy ignores her and continues. “He’s funny, witty, acerbic…charming, enthusiastic… Jill, this sounds all wrong, like a bad cliché. I can’t explain it. I don’t know why. All I really know is I’m falling in love with him and I…I think…he might be the one.” Saying it out loud scares her, but it’s the truth.
“I’ve never heard you go on like this about anyone you’ve dated before, and you’ve never given me any reason to think that you were even looking for ‘the one,’ so I have to believe that he must be something special,” Jill says smiling, “but I’ll reserve final judgment until I meet him.”
“You can’t! Not yet! Um…I mean…I’m still getting to know him myself. Anyway, I want Rick to meet him, too. When will he be in town?” Jill’s husband Rick is an airline pilot with an erratic schedule.
“He’ll be home for two weeks straight next month.” She lowers her voice and leans in conspiratorially. “Now, about the sex…I assume it’s good?”
“Unbelievably good! And,” she adds with a grin, “he’s extremely attentive.”
“Glad to hear it! Just remember, you’re always welcome to stay with us if you need to.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday morning Stacy officially moves in with Greg. True to his word, he has made room for her things. He even helps her unpack them. The monotonous task goes quickly as they talk, laugh, and, on occasion, stop to kiss, and by late afternoon, her clothes, toiletries and kitchen items are in their proper places. For dinner they eat Chinese take-out right out of the cartons, and then Greg leaves for the airport to pick up Wilson and Susan who are returning from their honeymoon in Hawaii.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As they walk from the baggage claim to House’s car, Wilson and Susan chatter animatedly about all the things they’ve seen and done, from snorkeling to hula dancing. Finally, as they arrive at his car, House is able to get a word in edgewise. “Frankly, I’m surprised! I didn’t think you two would leave the room. Trouble in paradise already?”
Wilson ignores the comment and Susan, who doesn’t really understand what Wilson sees in House, rolls her eyes and climbs into the back seat while the guys load the luggage into the trunk.
“I met someone,” House tells Wilson as he hoists an enormous suitcase into the trunk. “What the hell is in here?”
“Susan bought souvenirs. What do you mean, you met someone?”
“Stacy. She moved in with me this morning. What’d she buy?”
“Statues, clothes, a lot of seashells…Wait! House! Who the hell is Stacy?”
“She’s an attorney. Smart. Pretty.” House rearranges the luggage to squeeze in one more suitcase, looks Wilson in the eye, and adds with a big smile, “And sexy as hell!”
“And you…you asked her…to…to live…with you?” Wilson looks at House dubiously, his brow furrowed in confusion, as House slams the trunk shut.
“Yep.”
Wilson stares at House in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Right? This is a joke!”
“No joke, Jimmy. She moved in with me,” House replies.
“I…I go away for a week…one week…and when I get back Greg House, confirmed bachelor…has invited a woman to move in with him? This is just…well…unbelievable!”
“All true.”
“I just…I’m surprised…Oh, God! House! Is she pregnant?”
At this House gives Wilson a cold glare and responds irritably, “No! She’s not pregnant. What kind of a question is that?”
Wilson only shrugs, so House continues, “I didn’t say I’m marrying her! Besides it’s not like we’re in high school. And I’m a doctor; I know about birth control!” he says somewhat annoyed.
“It’s just that…you haven’t been in a real relationship in…well…since I’ve known you. I didn’t even think you…wanted…one.”
“Neither did I,” House says under his breath.
Before Wilson can respond, Susan leans out the window and urges them to hurry, effectively ending their conversation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
While Greg is picking up Wilson and Susan, Stacy thinks she should probably begin unpacking her law books in the study, but she’s too tired. Instead she opens a beer and begins to browse through Greg’s bookshelves. There are numerous medical books and journals, science books and biographies, classics and poetry, and some contemporary paperback mysteries. They appear to be roughly arranged by category. She removes a book of Byron’s poetry from the shelf and curls up on the sofa with it.
She remembers that she wrote an essay on “She Walks in Beauty” when she was in college, so she looks it up in the index and begins to leaf through the pages to find it. She is sidetracked when she encounters a page that is marked by a deliberately folded-down corner. The poem is “On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year.” She reads:
'Tis time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!
My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief,
Are mine alone!
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled at its blaze -
A funeral pile!
The hope, the fear, the jealous care,
The exalted portion of the pain
And power of love, I cannot share,
But wear the chain.
But 'tis not thus -and 'tis not here -
Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now,
Where glory decks the hero's bier,
Or binds his brow.
The sword, the banner, and the field,
Glory and Greece, around me see!
The Spartan, borne upon his shield,
Was not more free.
Awake! (not Greece -she is awake!)
Awake, my spirit! Think through whom
Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake,
And then strike home!
Tread those reviving passions down,
Unworthy manhood! -unto thee
Indifferent should the smile or frown
Of beauty be.
If thou regret'st thy youth, why live?
The land of honourable death
Is here: -up to the field, and give
Away thy breath!
Seek out -less often sought than found -
A soldier's grave, for thee the best;
Then look around, and choose thy ground,
And take thy rest.
She doesn’t remember having read this in college, but thinks she may have, nevertheless. It’s such a melancholy poem…the inability to be loved, the pain of loneliness, regrets of youth, the honor and solitude in death. She briefly thinks the marking of that particular poem may be from Greg’s college days, or just a favorite for some reason. Little does she know how deeply personal it is for him. She has no idea that this is an important key to understanding the man with whom she’s falling in love. She won’t learn this for some time.
Hearing his car pull into the driveway, she returns the book to the shelf and goes to greet him at the door.
He feigns surprise. “What are you doing here?” he teases.
“I live here now. Remember?” She plays along. “How’s Wilson? How was the honeymoon?” she asks.
“You know, I really don’t want to talk about Wilson tonight,” he says softly as he leans down to kiss her.
[To Be Continued...]
Previous Chapters:
Ch. 1 |
Ch. 2 |
Ch. 3 |
Ch. 4 |
Ch. 5 |
Ch. 6 |
Ch. 7 |
Ch. 8 |
Ch. 9 | |
