Stacy woke up on House's couch for the second time the next morning, and immediately almost slipped off of the couch. She found herself precariously perched in the doctor's arms, one arm locked across her waist, holding her against his chest, still heaving with sleepy breath.
"Greg?" Stacy scooted up on to the couch, trying to squeeze herself farther back to avoid unceremoniously tumbling to the floor. "Still asleep?"
"Stupid question," House muttered, not opening his eyes. "You move like a herd of wildebeests."
Stacy slipped out form under his arms, her bare feet hitting the carpeted floor with a muffled thump. She turned to look at House, scanning his drowsy face for any lingering trace of how voracious and eager he'd been the night before. He looked complacent, nonplussed, very much the House she'd known only hours before.
"It's elephants," she said, reaching down to locate her blouse in the pile of discarded clothing. "I'm starving. Take me out to breakfast."
"Demanding woman," House replied, but she could hear, to her relief, the trace of a smile in his voice.
House rose, and pulled on his pants, stretching and blinking in an attempt to reorient himself. Stacy stood and watched him as he dressed, noting the wince as he knelt on his inured leg to reach his sweatshirt. Stacy went to her knees beside him, picked up the sweatshirt, offered it to him. Pausing, House leaned on her proffered shoulder as he pulled it over his head.
"There's a shower down the hall," he suggested belatedly, "if you want one."
Stacy shook her head. "I'll shower after breakfast," she insisted. "I'm hungry." She grabbed his hand and marched him to the doorway. "Wear a coat,"" she suggested. "It seemed to work out very well for us last time."
"Mooch," House accused, grabbing his coat off of the chair where it had ended up the night before. The two of them pulled on shoes, and headed out into the nine o'clock Saturday street life.
They walked down the sidewalks together, heading for Starbucks, not in the mood for a genuine sit down. Stacy perched on the edge of a table, her legs swinging back and forth, almost school-girlish, as House ordered up a venti black coffee, and a mocha frappaccino. She went to join him while the baristas worked on their drinks.
"So," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder," what are we going to do today?"
"We?" House looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and Stacy's heart dropped. So he was satisfied after all with their brief and urgent encounter the night before. In the back of her mind, Stacy remembered riding with him on the bus, trying to block out of her head the irrational desire to spend what was so commonly categorized as "women's quality time," with the man whom she'd woken up with this morning.
House shrugged at her. "You sure you're going to stick around?" He asked, his voice absent and detached. "You should probably be getting over to Cuddy's. She'd really get some use out of you staying, she drinks alone, too much, and she's allergic to her own pets."
Stacy squeezed House's shoulder. "I think I'll stay a little while," she said. "Why don't we go see a movie?"
House snorted. "What are we," he asked, "in high school? Sleep with a girl, then take her to the movies to make sure she goes home and tells her friends what a lovely gentleman you were." He laughed, but looking down at Stacy's disappointed face, House shifted, almost looked guilty. "Yeah," he said, "What do you want to see?"
Stacy looked at the floor, her face reddening. There was something awkward in this, something almost forced in the way that she desperately wanted him to want to be with her. Something very, even as he'd noted, ninth grade about it. She hated the way he'd brought that up, the way he felt he had to bring every inadequacy and chink in their relationship into focus. As if she couldn't tell, as if she wasn't feeling it in her rapidly heating face.
"I don't know," she said, attempting nonchalance, flicking a tendril of hair out where it was caught in the corner of her mouth. "It was just a suggestion."
House shrugged, and leaned back, bracing himself against a nearby table. "Whatever you like," he murmured, sounding almost blankly complacent, dispassionately agreeable. Stacy watched his total lack of interest, they way his eyes didn't light up at the prospect of taking the woman he'd spent the night with to the movies, the way he impatiently tapped his cane against the legs of the table as he waited for his drink.
"Mocha Frappuccino," called the barista from behind the counter. Stacy steppd forward, took the drink, and turned back to House.
"I think I'm going to go to Cuddy's, actually," she said, biting her lip. "I made a promise. It's only fair."
"Makes sense," House nodded, and for the first time, Stacy thought she heard something regretful in his voice. She glanced up at him, but found him playing with some speck or fuzz that he'd found on his jacket.
"Well, it's been nice," she tried again. "It's been a while." It seemed like a ridiculously stupid thing to say. House gave her a long, scrutinizing look.
"Sure has," he said.
Coughing, Stacy turned away, heading for the door. "Bye, Greg." She thought briefly about turning back, stepping back to kiss him as she left, to leave herself hanging on his lips like in the best love stories. But when she glanced over her shoulder, House was already stepping up to the counter to get his coffee, completely ignoring her exit.
"See you at work," she muttered.
"See you on Monday," House replied. With a sigh, Stacy gathered herself and slipped out. As she left, the door got stuck against a twig that had fallen in front of it, and hung ajar, leaving House the ability to watch her turn the corner of the Starbucks as she disappeared from sight.
But he didn't. Instead, he ordered a piece of pound cake, and took himself into the corner against the wall, farthest from the draft coming in through the door. His watch said it was too far past noon to go back to bed.
And that concludes our story.
I've been considering a continuation of House and Stacy's relationship, but seeing as she's quite gone from the show, I'm not sure if there's any point in writing it. If you would like to see more of this kind of thing, even a sequel, please leave a comment saying so. Thanks for reading!