I'm baaaaack! Missed me? I thought so. Anyway, here's the next chapter, and it's slightly longer than usual (either that or I had to make it slightly shorter than usual… guess what I picked?). The song is Take On Me by A-Ha and I seriously suggest listening to it when you get to that part – trust me, it'll make it a thousand times less confusing. After all, I suggest doing that for most of the chapters, because sometimes I think the actual music (and not just the lyrics) fit the chapter well. Yeah, I'm weird, I know. It's also in a slightly different format than the others. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated ;) Go on, get reading!

Stacy passed one hand over a misted townhouse window and wiped the resulting wetness on the back of her pant leg. She stared out from the little visible window that had thus been created into the darkness beyond. Fat, healthy snowflakes thundered outside, twirling around the streetlights' illumination in the storm. Darkness enveloped everywhere else on the street in the evening.

"How many inches do you think we'll get?" She asked House, who was watching a rerun of a Yankees versus Red Sox baseball game, over her shoulder. He shrugged, eyes never turning away from the screen. "Hopefully enough for a snow day." He answered.

Stacy turned back to the window, which had already frosted over again. She curled her fingers tighter around the coffee mug, warmth seeping through the ceramic. She took a tentative sip – just how she liked it. "You picked the wrong career. Hospitals don't have snow days."

He grunted in response. "Unfortunately. They should though; it's very cruel that they don't."

She turned back o him and quietly walked over, sliding next to him on the couch. Automatically, he sat up, draping an arm over her shoulders, yet his eyes still never wandered from the screen. She didn't really mind though. She took another sip of coffee before placing it on the side table, pressing herself against House in an attempt to get closer to his warmth.

"Jesus lady, are you kicking me off the couch?" He grumbled, but she ignored him. She'd noticed how he was always warm, like a personal radiator. She, on the other hand, often got cold. December thus far had been unusually cold and chilly, and naturally, Stacy had cuddled up next to him – or, at least, tried. It turned out he wasn't a very cuddly person. To him, it was a mind game, and he loved that type of game, as long as he was certain he could win. Stacy had slowly pestered him, and now she had a free pass to cuddle up to him as long as she didn't expect much in return. His show of affection was always reserved – a simple arm around the shoulder here, a tussle of hair there.

She tired watching the baseball game but soon after got very bored. She then turned her complete attention on House – tracing little circles on his chest, and waiting for a reaction. For awhile, he never took his eyes off the screen. She figured he was playing hard to get. A devilish smile spread across her lips and slowly, she started letting her finger weave its way down across his stomach, poking experimentally at his belly button. The only response she got was a slightly annoyed – but curious – grunt. She pressed on, her fingers gently dancing up and down his left thigh. This received a quick glance at her hands and a slightly uncomfortable shift. She smirked, letting her had lie flat on his upper thigh and keeping it there.

House inwardly groaned. Now she was playing hard to get. His mouth set in a determined line. He wouldn't give in – or, at least, he wanted her to think she wouldn't give in. Two could play this game.

Fine, so be it, she thought, contemplating her next move. Slowly and calculatedly, she lifted her hand off his leg. In that second, House turned and leapt on her. She squealed in surprise as her head banged down on the couch cushion but it was cut short as House pressed his lips onto hers, digging his tongue into her mouth forcefully. She relaxed, comfortable with his weight pressing down on her, and opened her mouth, responding to his kiss with fiery passion. He groaned into her mouth, and just as abruptly, he sat back up and was once again nonchalantly watching the baseball game.

Feeling him left off of her as their lips parted, Stacy's eyes blinked open in surprise. She lifted her head to find him sitting on the couch and staring intently at the television. If someone had blinked, they would never have guessed they'd missed a thing. She huffed, blowing her tangled hair out of her face. She gently lay her had back down, staring at the bland ceiling.

I've won, House thought, smiling briefly. He dared take a quick glance and saw she hadn't moved from where he had pushed her over. Her hair was tangled from where he'd mussed it and her stomach quickly rose and fell as she tried to steady her breathing. He'd made her a hot mess, but he wasn't done yet.

After what had felt like hours but had only been a dozen or so minutes, House heavily got up; dragging his feet to make sure Stacy had heard him. He walked by the edge of the couch and onwards towards the piano in the corner of the room.

Stacy felt the couch shift as he got up, but she forced herself to continue staring at the ceiling. Her ears pricked as he purposely shuffled by her loudly, and she fought the urge to trip him, or to a less evil degree, smile. She heard him sit at the piano.

He contemplated what he should play. He was very concentrated, and he didn't notice as Stacy silently and effortlessly rose and padded over, her socked feet easily gliding across the floor. She didn't get much more than an acknowledging raised eyebrow as she eased next to him on the piano bench.

She bit her lower lip as she studied the black and white keys displayed in front of her. She'd done a few years of lessons when she had been a small child, but she was never very good and hadn't retained much except Au Claire De La Lune. She much preferred watch House play. He transformed, she'd found out. He got lost in the music, and Stacy had resorted to the not unentertaining sport of watching his hands fly easily across the keys. It was his escape, and she respected that, letting him play as she silently observed.

He still hadn't decided what to play, and he was becoming more and more aware of a soundlessly patient Stacy sitting beside him. He quickly decided to play something dedicated to her instead of playing what he felt like. He positioned herself, purposely elbowing Stacy with a smirk. She slapped at his elbow, a smile appearing on her lips despite her best efforts to appear stern. She still wanted to play mind games. She studied him as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started playing.

The first piece was classical – very melodramatic. It sped up and slowed down, climbed the staff note-wise and fell, and House completed it with dynamics – extensively making the crescendos and staccatos sharp and bouncy. Stacy contented herself with watching his hands dash to and fro – they were like mini dancers. She giggled – it was like his hands and fingers had minds of their own.

House was quickly lost in his playing – is eyes were closed, his senses of touch and hearing strained, and a concentrated but peaceful expression had gradually settled on his face. There were only two occasions, Stacy remarked, that House looked completely calm and without worry: when he was sleeping, and when he was playing. They never really talked about it, but Stacy could see how plagued with worry, fear, and regret House was – but Gregory House denied having fear and lived without regret, so the matter was quickly settled. Getting him to open up was harder than fitting an elephant in a fridge. She couldn't begin to believe how many people had hurt him for him to clam up like he did – shuddering, she vowed never to follow the path of those before her. Still, she left the matter be more often than not.

The following piece was bouncy and playful, and Stacy forgot all her – their – troubles. House felt her relax beside him and felt accomplished. He refused to think any thoughts that weren't appropriate to the song, and threw his energy into it. Leaving reality for a few precious minutes was health for them, and upon return, Stacy showed her gratitude by pressing her head against his shoulder. House barely acknowledged this as he prepared for the final piece of the night. He started, and immediately Stacy sat upright, ears easily following the familiar tune. She grinned as he started playing the classic 80's lick of A-ha's Take On Me. They both loved this song; it was upbeat and energizing.

Stacy cleared her throat, preparing to sing. She was fairly shy about singing, but House found her voice beautiful. It wasn't high and squeaky nor low and almost masculine but a perfect middle of the two extremes. Music was one thing that always brought them together.

"Talking away

I don't know what I am to say

I'll say it anyway

Today's another day to find you

Shying away

I'll be coming for you, love, okay?"

Both now enveloped in the song, Stacy looked at House. He met her gaze, his eyes full of love, music, and happiness. She smiled – this moment was perfect.

"Take on me," Stacy sang, holding his gaze. House grinned before replying with the backup vocal lyrics "Take on me."

"Take me on," Stacy shook her head, closing her eyes as she aimed for the higher notes. "Take on me," House studied her as she hit the next impossibly high notes. All sound drifted away as he watched her muscles strain, and he was sure she'd gotten them. He broke out into another grin before he turned back to the piano, again becoming focused.

"So needless to say," House sang the next verse, and Stacy sighed as goose bumps trailed up and down her body. She loved how deep his voice got when he sang.

"I'm odds and ends, but that's me

Stumbling away

Slowly learning that life is okay

Say after me

It's not better to be safe than sorry…"

A devilish twinkle sparkled in his eyes.

"Take on me," House barely managed the higher note, his face contorted with the effort. "Take on me," Stacy replied as she raised an eyebrow playfully in response.

"Take me on," He tilted his head back, eyes squeezed shut and wrinkles criss-crossing his face. Stacy nodded, "Take on me." When the time came for the series of high notes he shrugged them off so he could launch into the proceeding keyboard solo, his favourite part. He reached across Stacy to hit all the high notes. She laughed, watching him, and then sliding away to let him do his thing, leaned on the piano. Without communication, they both automatically started the last verse together.

"The things that you say

Is it live or just to play

My worries away?

You're all the things I've got to remember

You shying away

I'll be coming for you anyway!"

Stacy started doing a little jig, much to House's amusement.

"Take on me," Stacy sang. "Take on me!" House replied, abandoning the piano and going accapella for the last chorus. He approached her, wrapping his arms around her as she put her hand on his chest. She stared into his eyes as time slowed down.

"Take me on," She murmured, glancing at his lips. He whispered back, "Take on me," and didn't give her the chance to answer as he leaned forward and gently touched his lips to hers. Stacy's eyes fluttered closed, and as the shadows started dancing across the room, the final lyrics were lost.

I'll be gone

In a day or two