Disclaimer: I don't own House – I just really enjoy the show and the characters. As for this story . . . I was wondering if it would be out of character for, well, the characters. Then I watched some episodes from season one and am thinking maybe not. ;-)
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Allison Cameron leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of her chest.. A small smile tugged at her mouth as she watched Greg House at the piano. She wondered if he was aware of how he would sometimes sway slightly when he played. Maybe it was just during Billy Joel songs – he rarely played them. Frankly, she was surprised anytime he played a mellow pop song. It was . . . not a 'House' thing. Letting out a small sigh Allison pushed away from the door frame and made her way over to the piano, her bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor.
"Hey," she said as she sat beside House on the piano bench.
"Hey," he replied, casting a sideways glance at her. He segued into another song – a smooth jazzy piece she couldn't place at all. Allison knew it was silly (and she would never admit to it) but she could watch him play for hours. His long fingers moved gracefully over the white and black keys as his eyes slid shut.
Putting her hands behind her, Allison leaned back and let the music wash over her.
"What piece is this?" she asked quietly, reluctant to interrupt him but wanting to know the answer. "It's beautiful."
The music faltered slightly before House attempted another song, fumbled it, then quit playing.
"What? Why did you stop playing?" Allison swung around so she was straddling the bench as House sat there quietly, head bowed with his hands gripping the edge of the piano bench. She placed her right hand on his forearm. "Greg?"
House gave his head a shake, looking at Allison with an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "Uh, sorry," he said, gently sliding his arm out of her grip. He began flexing his fingers. "Hand cramps." He turned away from her and stood up, limping a bit more than usual as he made his way over to the couch.
Frowning, Allison debated making a trip to the medicine cabinet before deciding to join House. She sat a little ways away from him, tucking a leg underneath her as House looked anywhere but at her.
"You weren't supposed to hear it yet," he said, his voice low as his gaze settled on a spot on the coffee table. He swore quietly before adding "I'm an idiot."
"I wasn't supposed to . . .?" Realization dawned for Allison as House clenched and unclenched his jaw..
He had been playing the song.
The song whose sheet music she had stumbled across while straightening up some of House's papers before Wilson had come over the week before.
The sheet music with only one word scrawled across the top of one of the pages in House's distinctive cursive script – Allison.
She had tried to figure out the melody in her mind ever since as the series of notes and notations were burned into her memory. House had caught her a number of times staring into space, her fingers absently moving on whatever flat surface was available. Allison wished she had kept up with her piano playing after high school. She had forgotten so much in the years since then.
Allison had wondered if she would ever hear him play it almost as much as she wondered why he had wrote it in the first place. It was such a romantic gesture – one he would mock her for making if the piano-playing skills were reversed. Perhaps that was why he had kept it hidden from her. She hazarded a look at House. He was still staring at the coffee table and massaging his thigh.
Reaching out her hand, Allison placed it over his right one, stilling its steady back-and-forth movement. He looked up at her, his blue eyes reflecting a hint of uncertainty as he tried to school his expression into something more neutral.
"So . . ." she began, not sure what to say to break the uncomfortable silence trying to nudge its way between them. "So I was thinking --"
"You're in the mood for hot, sweaty sex?"
Allison bit back a grin. "No," she said slowly, pleased to see the smirk pulling at House's mouth. "I was thinking you need to get your butt back on the piano bench and finish the song." She stood up, not letting go of House's hand. "Pod people have obviously taken over your body – I want to enjoy every minute of this before they bring back the real Gregory House."
"Maybe they've taken over your body," House quipped as he pushed himself up off the couch, almost pulling Allison off-balance. "You're sounding more like Cuddy every day." His gaze dropped briefly. "Any other changes I need to be aware of? Hey," he said when Allison smacked him on the arm, "don't hit me. I bruise easily."
"Quit being a baby," Allison admonished as she sat beside him. Watching House from the corner of her eye, he looked ready to say something but apparently decided it against it as he began playing the song . . . her song. "So, I was thinking . . ." Allison said with a smirk.
"Shut up if you want to hear the rest of the song. Clock's ticking on the pod's return."
Allison chuckled, resuming her earlier position on the piano bench. Yup, she could watch him play for hours.
