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  Love/Hate Relationship 
 by catnap69  

 He loved the way that the dark fabric clung to her breasts, the curve of
her waist, the faint flare of her hips. He loved the way that he could
always tell whether or not she was wearing a bra. He loved the fact that
she would come to work wearing no underwear if he asked her. He loved the
fact that she had switched back to her old conditioner after he commented
on his preference to it against her newer one. He loved the way that he
always wanted to know how she'd look with her back arching uncontrollably
whenever she sat with her spine poker-straight. He loved the way that her
hair always curls once it reaches the curve of her shoulders, the way that
her eyes sparkled slightly when she had the first sip of every cup of
coffee. He hated the fact that she touched him. He hated the fact that he
thinks that it's okay for him to touch her like that in front of him. He
hated the way that she always seems to be with him whenever he goes
looking for her in the lab. He hates the way that she is always the face
behind every hooker that he ever shagged. He hated the fact that no amount
of hooker featuring fantasies could compensate for him not having her. He
never hated the fact that he was always scared more than when he thinks of
her with him, when the thought that she had moved on seeps in. He hated
the fact that he couldn't touch her. He hated that he couldn't kiss her.
He hated the fact that he could never have her.

She loved the way that he never wore suits. She loved the way that he
never tried to cover up the grey in his hair. She loved the small, this
lines at the corner of his eyes. She loved the way that goosebumps
travelled up her spine whenevr his gaze turned to her. She loved the
colonge that he always wore, dark and spicey, that way that she'd aways
imagined he'd taste, causing a certain warmth to spread throughout her
lower body. She loved the shape and build of his shoulders, built up from
the years of using his cane. She loves the fact that he always lets their
fingers brush when she passes him his morning coffee. She hated the fact
that she could only touch him. She hated the fact that he always seemed to
be with her whenever she notices him looking for her. She hated the fact
that she always saw his face whenever she was in bed with Chase, that it
was the only way that she could get herself off. She hated the fact that
it had actually gotten to the point where she was jealous of hookers. She
hated the fact that she was constantly fantasising about what his hands
would feel like on her skin. She hates the fact that he always so scared,
but never more than when she realises that no other man would ever
compare. She hated the fact that she couldn't touch him that way she
wanted. She hated that she couldn't kiss him. She hated the fact that she
could never have him. That she would always have to settle for second
best.  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.