"You feel like someone I could pick a fight with and dance all night with, Maybe you'll like me the way I am."

The question hung in the air for several moments, the air between them suddenly feeling thick and cloying. Finally, Stacy spoke.

"Do you know what the definition of insanity is?"

"Oddly enough, as a doctor, yes." He tried hard to keep the snark out of his voice. If he wanted Stacy to open up to him, then snarkiness and sarcasm weren't going to work. She hadn't seemed to notice though, as she was leant against the arm of the porch swing, looking somewhat wistfully into the distance. He cleared his throat. "Yes. It's doing the same thing over again and expecting different results."

"Exactly."

"You and Mark. I expected...I don't know….something….something different. I didn't expect you….and I didn't expect to be here….again. Running..again."

"Stace." It concerned him the way she just staring into the distance. "Stacy come and sit down." He needed to get her to least acknowledge him, and stop the rambling sentences. She didn't seem to hear him, or rather didn't want to hear him.

"This is exactly what happened with us." she said, still gazing away from him. "Verbatim." House wanted to shake his head, wanted to stand up and turn her around to tell her that this wasn't the same, that he and Mark weren't the same, that all the events that lead up to her leaving him weren't the same as what was unravelling now but he couldn't. She wasn't going to listen or talk to him at the moment, and seeing as it already looked like he was spending the night on the porch he didn't particularly want her to kick him off that too. Instead, he sat there, instinctively tapping his cane on the ground. After a few moments she finally turned around.

"Some people would be annoyed by that." she said, a small smile on her face as she referenced the words she said to him a mere 2 months ago.

"Some people, but not you right?"

"Oh no, definitely me."

"I forgot, you're the one that enjoys twirling it like a baton."

"That's not annoying.

"It's annoying when the person who owns the cane, needs it."

Stacy laughed at his response. A real laugh, finally, he thought, a hint of real emotion from her. "Four years of cheerleading and I never forgot my skills."

"You don't forget anything."

"Sometimes that's not a good thing."

Feeling her mood shift, he decided to try what he had been trying to do ever since he had arrived, plus, his bladder had started protesting since his last toilet break on the road. Or rather, bush break.

"Stace do you think we could carry on this conversation indoors? I did come all this way."

She smiled. "You always do this to me."

"Do what?" he asked innocently.

"I've hated you for the last 24 hours, and now I'm inviting you into my house." She shook her head gently. "I have no idea how you do this to me."

"I've said a little too much, I'm a little bit drunk, feels like I know you so well, you could be everything that I've been missing, I'm coming out of my shell.

And I never do that, how did you do that? It's like I've known you my whole life."

"How have you done this to me?" she said, leaning against the hallway next to his flat whilst House fumbled with his keys.

"You've had too much to drink." he said matter of factly. "You can't drive home."

"We got a cab here."

"Aah well I don't know where you live so I had to give them my address."

"That's a surprisingly good point."

She watched as House continued to struggle with his keys, thinking that he was definitely as inebriated as she was, glad that she at least had the wall to lean on.

"Finally." she heard him mutter as he turned the key in the lock. Peeling herself off the wall she followed him inside. "It's just a 2 bed apartment….nothing too special." he said, standing in the middle of his living room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It didn't get past Stacy as she made her way over to him.

"Surely the great and unflappable Greg House isn't nervous?"

"Of course not." he said, concentrating on stopping his feet from shuffling. "I'm just wondering if you're going to make me go through with my promise."

Stacy felt puzzled for a few seconds, the alcohol making her brain slightly fuzzy. Turning her head she saw the baby grand piano in the corner of the living room.

"Well, you said you'd play if the date went badly, and seeing as.." she moved closer to House and placed her hands under his jacket "I am here, I don't think it's going badly." He dipped his head down slightly and captured her lips with his, gently teasing her lower lip before opening them further and caressing her tongue with his. Stacy couldn't help emit a small moan at his contact and moved her arms, slipping his jacket off and wrapping her arms around his neck and they continued to kiss. As it ended she moved her hands up from his neck to caress his face.

"How did you do that?" she asked again.

"What do you mean?" he said, encircling his hands around her waist, trying to keep her close, hoping that this wasn't sobriety or doubts kicking in.

"I never do this." she said blushing slightly. "I certainly don't go on second dates with men I can't stand, and I definitely don't go back to their apartment. You just seem like someone I could fight with and dance with, all in one night." She shook her head and looked down, embarrassed. "I...I didn't mean to say all that. It's the alcohol talking."

House moved one hand off from her waist and tilted her chin up so she was looking at him again. "I'm….uh…..not great with words in this context, but you should know that I'm not the sort of guy who would chase a woman for a second date and convince her that I was worth seeing again, especially if I thought she couldn't stand me."

Stacy smiled and relaxed into his arms. "And...I don't usually do this either." he said, his voice husky with arousal. Stacy felt her legs go slightly weak, the way he was looking at her, and his words, no one had ever looked at her with so much want and desire before.

'This is going to be the undoing of me' she thought, as she let him take her hand and lead her into his bedroom.

House hung back and let Stacy lead him into her house. It had grown darker since they had been outside, not that he had gotten very far with his line of conversation. He stayed in the hallway whilst she turned on some lamps, taking his lead from her. Just being back, even on the porch swing had felt comfortable, familiar, and now standing in the hallway the feelings only grew. Placing his knapsack by the door he followed Stacy into the front room.

"Woah." he said, under his breath. "Nothing's changed."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No." he said. "It doesn't just look the same, it feels the same." It felt like home, he wanted to say, but didn't. He had spent a lot of time here over the years, Stacy was close to her family, certainly a lot closer than he was to his, the southern charm and hospitality appealing to him much more than the stifled and forced atmosphere that was often in his own family home.

"I know." Stacy said, somewhat wistfully. "But it doesn't feel the same, not for me. Our family gatherings were full of warmth, love and life. Well, you should know, you came to enough of them."

"I can still feel it. You know, just because the people aren't here any more doesn't mean the house has changed. The feelings are still here, within it's walls. Some house's don't change."

Stacy looked at him pointedly.

"No they don't. And don't take me inviting you in as a sign of anything. You can leave first thing in the morning."

Stacy didn't leave the next morning, or the morning after that. A weekend had flown by in a haze of sex, drinking, eating take out and more sex. In the three days he'd spent with Stacy he'd never felt more alive, or comfortable being himself. It had been a bubble of happiness that he didn't want to break. He'd stayed in bed whilst she showered on Monday morning, wishing that he had gotten in there with her, or better still, wishing they both had the day off so they could spend a leisurely shower together, with him soaping her up slowly, running his hands up and down her wet body, pressing her up against the shower, moving his lips down to her breasts whilst his fingers teased her between her folds…..

"Coffee?"

That certainly wasn't in the daydream he was having and he opened his eyes to find Stacy in front of him, wearing a towel and holding out two cups. He frowned.

"You interrupted my daydream. You should at least be wearing an air hostess uniform. Please put your trays in the upright position, please do not use the toilet for extra activities."

Stacy smirked and handed him his coffee.

"Well, sadly for you, there's no more time for daydreaming or 'extra activities' drink this, I'll give you a lift into work."

"You want us to go to work together..." he said slowly. "No offence."

Stacy rolled her eyes.

"I'm offering you a lift, I'm not proposing to you. If it helps you can walk ten steps behind me, like a grumpy child. Come on, get a move on." she called as she walked out of the room, undoing her towel and throwing it at him. He smiled, even though a large corner of it had landed in his coffee. Gregory House, arriving to work with a woman, and not just any woman, one of the hospital lawyers. That, combined with his track record of being sued would certainly get some tongues wagging. He sipped his coffee with one thought going around in his head, 'this is going to be interesting'

Considering his initial misgivings about her simply driving him to work Stacy was surprised to see Greg coincidently in her office just as she was about to leave for the day offering dinner and drinks. She found herself accepting his offer and it didn't dawn on her until Wednesday that she'd spent everyday since Friday at his flat, and was living out of spare suits that she kept in her office. It was on the Thursday that everything changed. As the day rolled on as normal she wasn't surprised to find Greg at her office door at 6pm.

"Drinks and dinner?" she said, smiling.

"Actually, I was thinking beer and a takeaway."

"Sounds good to me. Although I have to go home at some point, I have no clean clothes left."

"I have a washing machine." he said. "Although I'm all for you being naked, the more the better."

She ignored his comment. "Fine. But I have to go home tomorrow."

A few hours later she found herself clad in one of House's shirts, her suits in the washing machine whilst they drank beer and ate Chinese take out; sat on the floor cross legged whilst they fired questions at one another.

"Family"

"Only child, Dad was a lawyer, Mom was a home maker, and a typical Southern one at that. You?"

"Daddy doesn't care, Mom's weirdly okay with it."

"Favourite band?"

"Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers."

He raised his beer. "She has good taste. I'm partial to the Rolling Stones, and jazz, but you already know about the jazz part."

"Our second date." she said, smiling. "That oddly hasn't seemed to end yet."

"Do you want it too?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Not just yet."

She blushed slightly and he deterred the moment by firing another question at her. "Dream city?"

"Paris. I've wanted to go since I was 15. The culture, the food...the history, I'd love to go. You?"

"New Orleans. Not as far away or as fancy as Paris, but the jazz would be amazing."

"Favourite book?" she asked.

"Anything by Arthur Conan Doyle."

"Aah a Sherlock fan."

"I identify with his love of mystery's."

"Solving puzzles you mean."

"Hence why I became a diagnostician."

"Not good enough to be a detective then." she shot back.

"Funny."

Several beers later they found themselves discussing their younger years.

"I was a cheerleader in high school believe it or not."

House nearly choked on his beer.

"You can't be serious."

"I was! Why don't you believe me?"

"I thought you would have been a studious and serious student, not one who would have had time to dance around in a little skirt...I'm guessing the skirts were short." he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I was, but I still wanted to have fun."

"I think I need a demonstration."

"That is no problem." she said, downing her beer to give her courage. Standing up she began to do a standard cheer for him, shaking her hands in lieu of having pom poms. Unfortunately halfway through her routine her enthusiasm got the better of her and kicking her leg out, she managed to kick the side of his piano, and fell over, banging her head on the piano stool.

"Shit." he hurried to her side, "Stacy, can you hear me?" Much to his relief she nodded slightly.

"I think I'm okay. My ankle just hurts, and ow." She sat up to try to see what damage she had caused to her ankle. "My head hurts." She placed a hand to the back of her head where she had knocked it on the stool and House felt his heart drop when he saw her hand covered in blood.

"I'm calling an ambulance." She nodded slightly as she lay back down onto the floor, dizziness starting to overcome her. After his phone call to the emergency services he located his first aid kit and pressed bandages to the back of her head in an attempt to stem the bleeding. "Stay still, don't move okay." Hearing no response from her he shook her slightly and called her name.

"I'm here" she answered groggily.

"Stay with me Stacy."

"I'm trying."

Once he was satisfied that she was still conscious he turned his attention to her ankle. To his dismay he discovered that it was already swollen, and twice the size of her other one. He knew better than to move a limb that could be broken so he diverted his attention back to her head injury. Removing the bandages that were already soaked with blood he grabbed a new set, gently rolling her onto her side so he could see her head wound better and continued to press them against her injury.

"Stace, talk to me, tell me anything. I just need to know you're awake okay?"

"I….I don't think I'll be practicing cheerleading again anytime soon." she said, smiling slightly despite the pain.

"That's a shame, I was looking forward to seeing you in the outfit."

He continued to talk to her, and she was dimly aware of hearing him and tried her best to reply to him until the pain became too much and everything faded into black.

Waiting was the worst. Stacy had lost consciousness around 10 minutes before the paramedics had arrived despite his best attempts to keep her awake and all he could do was monitor her breathing and hold the bandages to the back of her head. He knew it would need several stitches, and all he could do was hope that she hadn't done herself any serious damage. She definitely wouldn't be giving him a second cheerleading performance if she had. As soon as they arrived at the hospital she was whisked away for a CT scan and X-Ray's on her ankle and he was left alone in the corridor. The hospital seemed uncharacteristically quiet, which didn't help, and he was halfway through deciding whether or not to nip up to his office to grab some paperwork when he saw Lisa Cuddy rounding the corner, clutching a file.

"House?" she said, the surprise evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"How's Stacy?" he said, ignoring her question. A look of confusion flashed across her face.

"You came in with her?" He nodded.

"Are you being sued?" Another ignored question.

"How is she?" he asked again, impatiently.

"She's stable, head CT was clear and luckily her ankle is sprained, not broken. We've stitched up her head wound; she should be fine." House felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Is she awake?"

"Not yet, she's got a bad concussion but, as I said she's stable, so she should be awake in a couple of hours. I'm sorry, I just….I didn't realise you knew each other or were friends...she doesn't usually cover your side of the hospital."

"She doesn't, and we're not friends." he said snappily, displeased at his mini interrogation. Well, he thought, they weren't 'technically' friends, or, anything more seeing as that hadn't been discussed. Were they friends who weren't exactly friends but with benefits? Perhaps, but he certainly wasn't going to explaining that to Cuddy.

"She's in room 266." she said, knowing him well enough not to ask any more questions but making a mental note to invite Stacy out for lunch when she was fully recovered.

"Mark will recover you know. This isn't going to be permanent."

"Unlike what I did to you, you mean."

"Our situations were completely different."

Stacy had brought them both out beers, even though she was seething with rage. Or it could be sadness. He couldn't read her, which was both maddening and concerning for him. Stacy took a long sip of her beer, placing it down on the table before fiddling with the label. He knew that meant she was distracted by what she was thinking, worrying about what she was thinking, and, even worse, worrying over and over again about what she was going to say to him.

"Yeah, James said that, Lisa said that, my therapist…...well, you know what she said." She tore the label off of the bottle and continued fiddling with it in-between her fingers.

"So you spoke to everyone about me, but not me." he ventured.

"This isn't directly about you, it's about situations, and Mark and myself. Besides I said enough to you. I've said things I shouldn't have said.

"You were the one, you always will be."

"You had no interest in talking about Mark, apart from the medicine, or trying to get one over on me."

"The concern...the dishes..all this time you've been manipulating me."

She gave him a wan smile. "And you've succeeded. Whatever your plan was, to split us up or mess my life up….you've succeeded. I hope you're proud of yourself."

"I hope you're proud of yourself." a sleepy voice said. House looked up to see Stacy groggily waking up.

"Hey." he said, reaching out to hold her hand. "How're you feeling?" With his free hand he poured her a cup of water and gave it to her. Wincing, she moved to sit up and drank it gratefully.

"I feel like some stupid man made me do a cheer. I hope you're proud of yourself for making me do that."

"You volunteered!"

House felt her squeeze his hand which let him know she wasn't cross with him.

"You were the one that didn't think to move the piano stool."

"This is true."she said, handing back the cup. "What happened? I don't really remember anything." She tried to sit up more but a sharp pain in her head stopped the movement.

"Ouch." she said, wincing.

"Try and lie still." he said, caressing her hand to try and distract her from the pain.

"The last thing I remember is getting up do to the cheer."

"Which you performed magnificently by the way. Although next time I would prefer you to be in uniform." He watched as Stacy rolled her eyes. "No rush though. Anyway, you did your cheer, caught your foot, and banged your head on the piano stool. Then you passed out. Thanks for that by the way, I put you in the recovery position, tried to stem to bleeding from your head. There's a beautiful stain on my floor now, by the way. Paramedics brought you in, and according to your chart, you have a sprained ankle, concussion and about 20 stitches in your head. You'll be out of action for a few days. Stacy looked at him in horror. "It's really not that bad." he said, slightly confused by her reaction..

"No….it's just that my apartment is on the 8th floor and the lifts out of order. Plus, if it's sprained I'll struggle to drive."

"So just take time off work. I can bring you supplies."

"No way, I have a massive case load at the moment."

House exhaled slowly.

"Why don't you move in with me? I have a working lift and I can drive you to work."

Stacy stared at him.

"Woah. I know you said I had a concussion but I didn't think it would cause me to hallucinate." House smiled.

"Well your sarcasm levels haven't been affected I see. But if you would rather struggle up and down 8 flights of stairs everyday then be my guest."

"No." she said hastily. "I'd really like that."

"Good." he said, not quite believing what he'd just asked her. "I'll clear some space and move that pesky piano stool." He stood up and kissed her on the forehead. "Get some rest, I'll come by in the morning."

He remembers vividly the first time she referred to his apartment as home. He'd had a long day, and was charting when she knocked gently on his office door.

"Hey."

"Hey" she said, cocking her head to the side. "Ready for home."

He nodded. "More than you'll ever know."

She smiled. "Come on then, let's go home together."

"Could be everything, that I've been missing. You could be everything to me….Lets go home together."

Lyrics by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan.

Reviews welcome.