Because, you know, what if Stacy and Clinton did get it on?
There's a lot of WNTW fan fiction out there. But in my opinion, the finest of the genre is produced by an individual named youknowme4sure on the Pointed Shoes and Pocket Squares blog. Take this Valentine's Day entry:
After hours shooting a special project in Valentine's Day, Stacy and Clinton go to hotel.
They go to Clinton's room.
*romance in the air*
Overdose of Barry Manillow and couple whiskey doses later, Clinton fused his mouth to hers, kissing her hard before softening and sucking her bottom lip. Then they were back, pressing insistently to her lips again, his tongue running along the seam, pressing and moving to gain access to her mouth. Stacy complied, relaxing her jaw as he slipped his tongue in, seeking hers out. She moaned, pushing back against him, as she took control of the kiss, exploring his mouth gently in return. Clinton grinned against Stacy instinctively, making her gasp and their mouths unlock. She dropped her head to his shoulder and sighed. "What are we doing?" She asked quietly. Clinton lifted her chin and kissed her lips softly. "Kissing," he replied, smiling against her lips as she groaned. She kissed him back slowly before dropping her head again. "And kissing leads to touching," she mumbled quietly. "Uh huh," Clinton gently kissed her neck, careful not to leave a mark in case the others saw it or worse, Stacy saw it. Stacy nodded slightly. "And touching leads to sex," she sighed, knowing this wasn't going to work in her favor. Clinton stopped what he was doing and stood in front of her. "That was the general idea," he pushed back her hair, kissing her cheek before moving back so he could look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, knowing she had been all for it a moment ago. Stacy shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'm just so tired," She said quietly before opening her eyes and meeting Clinton's. "I'm tired of meaningless sex. But Clinton, nothing with you is meaningless and I can't do this if we're just going to walk away and pretend it never happened unless we walk away now." Clinton leaned forward and kissed her again. "That's okay," he said quietly, moving forward and kissing her again, their bodies pushing against each other. Stacy pulled back, watching Clinton's eyes again. "I'm giving you an out here, Clinton and if you're not going to take it then I will." Clinton smiled softly, running his thumb along the apple of her cheek. "Who says I need an out?" he asked as his eyes darted between hers. "Who says I don't want this to happen more than once?" Stacy dropped her gaze but Clinton lifted her chin so he could look at her properly. "Like you said, I'm the longest relationship you've ever had with a man. Who else would put up with you?" Stacy gave him a small smile. "You don't get it. I can't just be here for you to have sex with me and then just look past me in the studio. I can't just have you ignoring me," Stacy shook her head. "I'm sorr-" Clinton held a finger against her lips. "I would never use you, Stacy, or any woman for that matter. You know me better than that," Stacy nodded so he continued. "I care too much about you to do that," he smiled sadly as he watched her. "God, I thought you'd left me again and I broke." "Bu-" Stacy began but Clinton cut her off again. Clinton shook his head. "You're not listening to me," he sighed. "I can't handle it," he kissed her cheek again. "I can't handle getting up every day and knowing that when I get to work you' re not going to be here," he kissed her other cheek. "I can't handle the fact that you were away so long that I couldn't remember what you smelt like so I stole the bottle of perfume you kept in your locker." Her eyes widened, and he grinned. "And I can't believe I just told you that."
Nor can we. Nor can we.