I don't own HOA, the characters, The Barkleys of Broadway, or The Way You Look Tonight.

Enjoy!

Mara Clarke sighed, letting her tied up hair fall free over her shoulders. Her husband followed, stalking behind her, and slipped his blazer off.

"The party was great," she commented, referring to the party they had to celebrate Mara's promotion as head doctor of the hospital she worked at.

"I wouldn't know considering I had been forced to sit on the cold, snowy balcony to eat my supper where it froze and I caught my death of a cold." Jerome snipped, sneezing but a moment later. "And that's all thanks to that Patrick Hughes. What's so special about him anyway?"

"He's one of the most successful play writers in the country." she replied.

Jerome rolled his blue eyes as she stormed into the bathroom.

"Yeah, I suppose he claimed that you would be perfect for the lead role in his newest play?" he wondered sarcastically.

"Yes, he did." She responded, rather proudly. "He remembers my performance in the play Nina wrote in high school. He told me I'd be spectacular. I've never pictured myself as an actress, but when he explains it to me, it just makes sense."

Jerome let out a short laugh. "Sure, you would be. Mara, I'm the only one that could tell you if you'd do well at something. I've been doing that forever. I practically molded you since high school. Like, Svengali—"

"Svengali?" she cried in shock, twisting away from the medicine cabinet.

"Go on, throw it," he taunted, eyes flitting to the bottle in her raised hand before moving back to her wide, shocked brown eyes. "You know you want to."

And she did. It bounced off his forehead and he let out a slow sigh. "Thank you and goodnight." And with that, he walked away, running a hand through his blonde hair.

Mara glared after him and proceeded to brush her teeth and slip into a robe.

"Blood!" she heard Jerome exclaim and she gasped, echoing his outcry in surprise. She ran to his side where he stood in front of the mirror staring at the small gash on his forehead.

"Oh my, gosh, are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Oh, yeah, it's just a concussion." He mumbled back.

She quickly ushered him back into the bedroom and had him sit down. "Oh, my darling," she cooed, dabbing at the cut with a tissue. "I'm so sorry, but it stopped bleeding." She scoffed at herself and took off one of her shoes that had a short heal. She put it in his hand and raised his arm for him. "Hit me with it."

Jerome stood and peered down at her silently as she stood tall and closed her eyes.

"Oh, I can't," he stated with a shake of his head. "You being so brave and you're not even blindfolded."

"No, go ahead, I deserve it." she told him, lifting his arm and closing her eyes again.

"Alright, I will," he nodded in determination. But instead of striking her with the heal, he gripped her shoulders in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She melted into him and when he pulled back, she laughed lightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him.

"You're very welcome, love." He grinned, tossing her heal behind him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Why don't we eat? I'll make us some eggs and bacon." She suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't let you do that for me." he said and she smiled at him.

"But we didn't have anything at the part." She pointed out. "Let me get your robe. You need to stay warm. And what about a fire?" she called from the bathroom.

Jerome grinned; tilting his head as he silently thanked his lucky stars for such a wonderful, loving woman. He sat on the coffee table in the middle of the room and he plucked a cigarette from the box next to him. He took the lighter next to it and he opened it, but the flame didn't last the few times he tried. Mara sat next to him, his robe in her arms, and she took the cigarette from him.

"You shouldn't smoke; it's not good for your cold." She scolded and he took the cigarette back, hearing the real statement behind the advice. She had been trying to get him to quit for a while.

"I have a confession to make," he started. "I haven't got a cold."

"I know it," she replied, flipping the lighter open and holding the flame up so he could light his cigarette.

He stared at it for a moment and then looked back to his wife. He flicked the cigarette out of his hand and it landed behind him as he blew out the flame. Mara chuckled, gazing up at him adoringly and he leaned in with a smile of his own, brushing his lips against hers.

"But, darling," he sighed regretfully as she helped him slide into his robe. "You would be an amazing actress. You'd be magnificent in anything you do. I was just upset. I didn't mean anything I said."

"I know; you were just jealous." She smiled teasingly and he widened his eyes warningly.

"You know if I could sing, I'd be doing something so cheesy right about now." He laughed, fingertips brushing her dark hair to the side.

She laughed with him and he shrugged.

"I guess, this'll have to do." He said as he pressed play on the CD player on the table and music flowed from it softly.

"Were you planning this?" she asked suspiciously as she was pulled into his embrace and he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"What? Of course not; after all, I'm a very spontaneous person." He reminded. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She repeated.

"Someday, when I'm awfully low; when the world is cold, I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight…" Fred Astaire's voice sang softly from the speakers of the player.

Mara giggled, stepping lightly on her feet so she could keep up with Jerome as he twirled her around. It was almost as if she was reliving the night he had asked her to marry him, except they were in their bedroom, and she wasn't wearing a green and blue sundress, with her hair in a loose braid, flowers dotting the dark strands. And despite her appearance; black yoga pants and one of Jerome's dress shirts, her hair hanging down freely and slightly tangled, she felt beautiful.

"Oh, but you're lovely, with your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me but to love you just the way you look tonight."

"You know, Fred sings the truth." Jerome whispered in her ear.

"With each word your tenderness grows tearing my fear apart. And that laugh that wrinkles your nose touches my foolish heart. Lovely, never, never change; keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it? Because I love you just the way you look tonight."

She sank into him as he pushed his lips down upon hers again in a slow, tender kiss.

Eh. I'm not particularly happy with this...I got the idea from the movie "The Barkleys of Broadway". That's not how the scene goes; I forgot... Anyway, review?

"Your satisfaction. No guarantee. All I know is I feel you in me. I look around, this place is a mess. I feel the air through the holes in my dress. Now, it's so damn cold, here in my soul. And you'll never know how far I let you go. Downtown, love never lasts. And there's no way you can prepare for the past. And that's when you shot through my heart."

-Rachel