I know, I haven't updated in years! But inspiration has struck and I can't get this story out of my head.

"And with the birds I'll share this lonely view…"

"This is an insane plan" Wilson remarked. House ignored him and continued to fill his knapsack with a few essential items.

"Insane" he repeated. House turned around, beginning to become annoyed by his friends criticism.

"You're the one who told me to do something! You and Cuddy."

"Yes, but you're the one who upset her House, she's ran off because of you." he said mimicking nearly the exact words that Cuddy had said.

"So how is that insane? I'm literally telling you what you told me to do."

"That's the insane part, that you're actually doing it, not what you're doing."

"That makes no sense at all."

"I know what I meant."

"Well I. Glad you do."

Wilson followed House as he moved through his apartment, almost drifting now, picking items up and then putting them back again.

"I doubt Stacy wants the latest TV guide." he said dryly.

House ignored him, continuing to leaf through various drawers and items scattered around his apartment. Finding something that he did not show to Wilson he placed it in his knapsack carefully before zipping it up.

"Looks like I'm ready."

Wilson knew better than to push for information about what House had placed inside of his belongings.

"What if she won't talk to you."

"She probably won't. I imagine she'll call me a jerk and shut the door in my face."

"He's a jerk!" Stacy said, whilst prodding angrily at a piece of lettuce. "The whole date was a complete and utter disaster. I never want to see him again!" She successfully speared the lettuce leaf with her fork and popped it into her mouth, as her friend watched in amusement.

"So what did he do that was so bad?"

Stacy put her fork down and sighed.

"Well, the first hour of the date wasn't so bad, until he just started acting like an obnoxious jerk! He was crude, didn't do any of the things I expect men to usually do on a first date. He constantly talked over me, didn't offer to split the dinner bill, he drank too much. Then, when we headed to a bar there was a whole table full of his hospital colleagues who kept sniggering and pointing at him, which made him a thousand times worse! I gave him 5 dollars towards my drink and walked off."

Her friend laughed.

"He sounds like a handful."

Stacy sighed, attempting now to spear a cherry tomato. "Like I said, the first hour was great! He was charming, attentive, we laughed...and then..I don't know, it was like something switched inside of him, and then he was awful"

"Maybe he was afraid of getting to close to you"

"On a first date? From my recollection of them you want them to be enjoyable."

Her friend laughed. "I've been on many that were far from enjoyable. So the big question is….are you going to see him again?"

Stacy snorted. "Doubtful, he was the worst 5 dollars I ever spent."

The open road stretched out in front of him as he expertly twisted through the curves of the turnpike. His motorbike was still fairly new to him – Thank God for him being a fast learner and also for the speed that Wilson could write a cheque. The route, like most things was forever etched into his brain. Usually he could keep his brain organised, and this route was one filed and locked away in the mental drawer labelled 'Stacy' but, as he swung through the familiar scenery snippets began winding through his brain like little snippets of video.

Stacy, on their first trip up there, her Southern drawl becoming more and more dominant with every passing mile, animatedly telling him stories about her 'Mama' and throwing in a casual way every 5 minutes 'Oh Greg, you'll just love her' And although he doubted so many things and saw the world as being askew he had learned in the short 6 months they had been together not to doubt Stacy. And he relaxed happily in the passenger seat as she drove listening to her chat animatedly.

Their third or fourth time up, him in the driving seat this time as Stacy dressed down in a simple white t-shirt and tan shorts her hair scooped messily in a ponytail, clumsily fiddling with the radio knobs, ignoring him every time he audibly sighed and pointed out that 'technically the driver should choose the music" if she stopped on a song he disliked. He remembered her grin when she finally managed to find "America" by Simon and Garfunkel and he smiled too, both of them belting out the lyrics 'Counting the cars on the New Jersey turnpike.' He stole glances at her as she sang, her window slightly open, the breeze blowing tendrils out of her messy ponytail and curling them around her face. She looked so happy, so relaxed and just so lost in the moment...free. He felt the same way, free to love her, and to allow himself to love her and to allow her to love him back.

The last time they went up, for her mother's funeral was a polar opposite. Stacy driving this time, her face drawn and pale, fingers on one hand gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles were white, the other tapping constantly, and frustratingly against the window. He could tell that she was craving a cigarette. The radio wasn't on and hadn't been the whole journey. All there was was silence. Stacy didn't speak, wouldn't speak, and that was okay with him. He was confined to the back seat, his leg unwilling to be in the bent position that sitting in the front passenger seat for hours without causing more pain than he was already in. They were both ignoring each others pain. He pretended that she wasn't falling apart emotionally and she ignored his physical pain as best she good. They were both lying to themselves, and to each other. Stacy hadn't even wanted to come to the funeral, protesting that the trip up there would be too much for his leg to take, but he knew that wasn't the real reason she didn't want him to come. Ever since his leg 'incident' (that was the word Stacy used, he personally preferred the word dibocal" she had turned into someone he didn't recognise. Unflinching and resilient ton the surface to everything he would throw at her, and walking away from arguments that she otherwise would have relished having with him. The lawyer inside her never stopped. He knew it wasn't that she didn't care, it was that she was covering everything. She wasn't allowing herself to falter, or fall. She knew he would be unable to catch her when she did.

"I need to make a call" The first words spoken in around 2 hours, as she pulled over. He pretended to be asleep and merely grunted at her. He knew what she was going for.

Purposefully he drove off the road, stepping off his motorbike and retrieving his knapsack, making sure the items he had carefully packed inside of it were still in one piece. Seeing that they were he settled down on the grassy verge road and pulled out his sandwiches, knowing that he would need the sustenance for the other half of the journey. Pulling out his cell phone he wasn't surprised to see any calls from Stacy, yet about a dozen from both Cuddy and Wilson. The signal wasn't great, but he knew he had to call one of them.

"Hi, have you come to your senses?"

"No, I've clearly still lost my senses. If I ever had them to begin with."

"You never had them when it came to Stacy."

"Is this a good time to remind you about your 3 marriages and what you did during them? I mean, if a man ever lost his mind over women I think you're about 3 steps ahead of me."

Wilson sighed.

"No. Look, we just want to know."

House cut him off.

"We?"

He heard the phone being shuffled around.

"House!" It was Cuddy. "Get back here now, and leave Stacy be. Do you have any idea how much paperwork I'm being forced to do for your team, and I can't even begin to tell you how many clinic hours you're missing." He ignored her, and scattered some breadcrumbs to the birds that were hovering near him.

"Tell Wilson to go and feed Steve McQueen."

With that he hung up the phone.

Stacy hung up the phone and groaned. Being highly regarded in her career was great, but unfortunately it also seemed to come at the expense of having loads of paperwork to complete. In this case, an alteration of a few cases due to some missing evidence that meant they would have to be altered. That, added to to the fact that she had wasted the previous evening on her disastrous date only added to the stress she was feeling. Standing from her desk she turned away to look for the case files she needed. As she scanned her filing system there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." she said, without turning to see who it was. As she found the files and retrieved them she heard the door open and close. Turning back to her desk she nearly dropped all the paperwork she had collected, having merely expected to see her secretary.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

House's tall figure crossed the small space between her door and her desk, which she managed to set the files down upon.

"I thought I'd bring you this back." He tossed a crumpled note on her desk. She instantly recognised it as the $5 bill she had thrown at him.

"No thanks, I'd rather not have a souvenir from the evening."

"See, I thought you might say that, which is why I thought I'd like to use it to gain legal advice."

"$5 gets you about a minute, although knowing your reputation around here, and the fact that I, frankly hate the sight of you means I'm upping my rates. You get 45 seconds."

House smiled. "You lawyers..." Stacy cut him off.

"Time starts now." she said, tapping her watch.

He cleared his throat. "So, it appears that I have managed to upset one of my colleagues." Stacy rolled her eyes, This she could easily believe. "I didn't mean too. We don't actually even work together really, but, I've messed up and pissed her off. I'd just like her to know that, and hope that she might let me make it up to her. Would the defense like to make an opposing statement?" Stacy softened slightly as she realised he was talking about her.

"Yes, she would" she said, placing her hands on her hips. "You were a jerk, and an ass-hole!"

"The opposition would agree, but he has prepared a closing statement." Stacy laughed, despite the annoyance she felt towards him. "I'll take that as a yes. Look, I'm not exactly popular in this hospital. I have issues with people...and being social...making connections. I don't like to show people the real me, especially people here." Stacy studied him as he spoke. He looked almost...bashful...shy even at exposing his vulnerabilities. She knew how that felt. There was no weakness allowed in the courtroom, or meetings, she even knew to be aware of how she presented herself around the hospital.

"The first part of our date, it was just going so well, I felt happy and connected to you, and it scared me. It made me want to push you away. Then, when we went to the bar and saw those idiots at the next table, I knew they were looking at us, laughing at the idea of Gregory House being on a date. I'm sorry for that. I know you said you never wanted to see me again but the opposition has a proposal for the defence."

Stacy smiled, and leaned against her desk, feeling her annoyance slipping away and moving into inquisitive territory.

"Go on."

"Another date, tonight, somewhere different, and I'll even throw in a bargaining chip because I know you lawyers love those. I'll show you something about myself that no one else has seen."

Stacy arched her eyebrow.

"No, not like that. Unless the date goes incredibly well." he said, with a mischievous look on his face. "If I'm still a jerk, you have permission to tell people about it. If not, then I'm forgiven."

"It's a good deal." Stacy said, nodding. "You have a deal."

Pulling up at the house he knew this was now or never. A chance to turn around and forget everything, let Stacy live her life. Unfortunately, he knew that was a bad deal. Stacy had run away here for a reason that involved him, and everything else that had happened recently. He needed to get her back. The house hadn't changed in itself, slightly worn in places that weren't before but so were himself and Stacy. Parking his motorbike on the side, he swung his knapsack on his back and pulled out his cane from the side of his motorbike. Walking to the door he knocked, feeling trepidation for the first time. The door swung open.

"Hi Stacy."

"Greg."

Turning his head at the familiar voice he saw her for the first time in 5 years.

"Hi Stacy"

Reviews are always appreciated! I have a plan of where I want to go with this story, just hope there are some fans onboard!