White Christmas - Michael Buble
Evey woke that morning to the soft sounds of a jazz piece working it's way through the gallery's walls and into her bedroom. She didn't know what time it was but remembered staying up late the prior night with V. They had watched a movie together, a Christmas movie since it was December, and then they had conversed for a while before both had adjourned to bed.
There jazz piece was strange, only instruments until she suddenly heard a pure baritone voice rise above it all. Was that…was that V.
She got up, exiting the room quickly and shuffling on bare feet to reach the beautiful voice that she heard.