Buffy wanted to sleep forever. She was wrapped in some fantastically soft sheets at the moment, and she wanted to stay there as long as she could.
Unfortunately, the sounds of the shower drew her back into consciousness and she sat up. Looking around, she was in a very nice apartment. A bit cluttered, but still very nice.
As evident by the sheets she was wrapped up in.
Buffy had gone home with scruffy cane man, ridden on the back of his motorcycle, kissed him all the way to his apartment, and then fallen straight into bed with him.
Buffy wasn’t a fan of one night stands. She never had them. She was already far too awkward of a person to further complicate things with morning after protocol. But here she was, in some guy’s apartment, wrapped up in his sheets. He had just gotten in the shower, but he was a man, so he probably wouldn’t be in there long.
She took the opportunity then, to go through his things.
“Oh goody, just be sure to leave the TV on your way out.”
Buffy froze, so engrossed in flipping through Gregory House’s personal things, that she hadn’t even noticed him enter the room. How unlike her. Dr.
Gregory House, she reminded herself.
And then she suddenly became painfully aware of how naked she was. “Oh my God.”
She squeaked out and then snatched up his bed sheet and wrapped it around herself quickly.
“But I liked you so much better the other way.”
He looked at her. And Buffy looked back. He stared straight into her, smug little bastard, leaning on the doorframe and on his cane all at the same time. She was intrigued by the cane, had spent some hours studying his leg, studying him. Why are you so snarky? But she knew that would probably send him on some psychoanalytic spiel about nothing. So she said nothing, did nothing. Just looked defiantly back into his eyes.Beautiful
. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Subtly beautiful, in that classic old-school way. That’s why he noticed her. She was blonde and hot and everything appealing on the outside, but her real beauty was muted, subtle, hidden away under her ditsy exterior. And the minute he had made eye contact with her, and she hadn’t looked away, Gregory House had been taken with her. And that did not happen often. But the way that she stared back at him, when so many others he knew would avoid his gaze, just made him want to crack her open like a book and read everything about her.
“I bet you intimidate a lot of people.” She moved closer. “I bet you scare all the other doctors away from you, huh?” And then in a flash, she was standing right in front of him, her chest barely touching his.
“No, I’m bright and bubbly, and everybody loves me.”
But his words didn’t have that bite that they usually did. Buffy Summers put him on edge, made him feel a lot less angry and a little more alive.
“Now just think what I could do in two nights.” She murmured, half in a whisper, almost as if she hadn’t meant to speak aloud.
And then the phone rang, and his pager beeped, and the little world they were in crumpled. And he was just a grumpy old doctor and she was just some girl he had picked up in a bar.
She stuck out one hand. “It was nice to meet you Gregory House.”
“No really, I like the TV. Take the books, or the kitchen set. And turn off the lights when you leave.”
That day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital would furthermore be known as that day when Dr. House sulked in his office and threw water at anyone who tried to enter.