This Devoted Thing

by jazzman31

Remy Hadley is in love with Katherine Audrey Obejas. My take on their life together. Warning: Character Death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Katherine Audrey Obejas.

Title: This Devoted Thing

Author: jazzman31

Rating: M

Summary: What if Remy Hadley had been in a relationship before joining House's team? What if her partner got sick? This is kind of sad.

Warning: Character death. Femslash. Don't like, don't read.

Katie POV

Remy Hadley and I have been together for nearly five years. She is a doctor, and I am an electrical engineer who does contract work for the military, and various other companies. I love my job, and she loves hers. What I don't love, and she has come to hate, is people staring at us when we hold hands in public, or have lunch together, or kiss goodbye. She works for a drug-addicted pervert named Gregory House, who is not half bad once you see past his arrogant exterior. He reminds me of my father, to be honest. They are both arrogant assholes, who manipulate people to get what they want. My dad and I are pretty close, but he hates Remy. He gives her a hard time about everything. He visited us once, and he hated our apartment. Remy loves our apartment and they kept shooting jibes at each other until I had had enough. I made them understand that no matter how much they didn't get along, neither of them were going anywhere, and would be a part of my life always. They at least try to get along now. Anyway, so Remy and I live in New Jersey, and I travel a lot for work, and as a doctor she has long shifts at the hospital, so we don't see each other as often as we would like, but we make do.

Anyway, I had been gone on a three-week business trip, and had just gotten back on a Friday afternoon. She usually gets off earlier on Fridays than during the week, but sometimes they have cases that keep her later. I stopped by her favorite flower shop before going home to pick up a bouquet of calla lilies, her favorite. I wrote "I'm home," on the card, and had them delivered ASAP to her job. I went home and shed my clothes, putting them in one of the bags by the door full of laundry. She hadn't done laundry yet, which was good for me because I had three weeks worth of laundry to do. I hate laundry, as does she, but we do our laundry together at a laundry mat and it goes a lot smoother. I took a long shower, washing my hair three times to get the grit out of it. I had been in India, and I couldn't take my luxury showers so I opted not to wash my long hair because that would take my entire water supply. I enjoyed the long hot shower more than I should have, but it was great. I stepped out of the shower, and combed through my just below my ass hair. I examined the jagged scar that runs from the middle of my head diagonally across my face to my left ear. I was just hanging out in my backyard when a guerilla came and started attacking people. My father was a soldier for the Cuban government, and thus we were constantly on our guard. My mother was killed by a guerilla when I was four, and my father had been planning a way for us to leave Cuba. The man kicked me in the face, and then there was a gunshot, and then nothing. The kick was so hard on my six-year-old skull that I had frontal lobe damage, and now have to take mood regulators. I have a metal plate in my head, cheek, and my nose is artificial as it had been crushed. Castro allowed my father to leave Cuba so that I could get better medical care, and my dad decided that we would just stay in America. My eyes are green, my hair black, and the scar is from the kick, my face split open and the doctors just made it wider to perform the different surgeries instead of making new holes in my face or head. I have undergone five surgeries to repair the damage, but I refuse to get plastic surgery to fix my face. It makes me who I am.

I blew my hair dry, and then walked naked back into the bedroom. I walked into the kitchen, and went through the fridge to see what she had been eating while I was away. I was not surprised to find half-eaten containers from various take-out places. I smiled as I opened the freezer to find the food I had cooked for her was untouched. I grabbed two containers marked lasagna and put them on the counter. I looked at the clock on the microwave, and then checked my cell phone for missed calls. I didn't have any missed calls, but I did have a text message.

"Might be a little late coming home, got a new case this morning, and House wants to solve it," was the message.

I typed back a reply, and put my phone on the counter. I thawed the lasagna and then put both containers into the fridge for later when she came home, as I wasn't that hungry yet. I threw out her old food, and then I took the sheets off the bed. I went through and found all of her dirty clothes that she had left around the apartment, and then put clean sheets on the bed. I emptied my suitcase, putting my toiletries away and my dirty clothes in the canvas laundry bags by the door. We have them marked for easy sorting. I raced to the kitchen for my phone which was blaring "Candy Girl," by New Edition, Remy's ring tone. I grabbed it just before it went to voicemail.

"Hey babe," I said into the phone.

"Hey sexy," she replied.

"So, will you be home soon?" I asked, as I walked back into the main area.

"On my way home now. Are you hungry?"

"Of course, stop and get a head of lettuce and a couple of tomatoes," I said.

"Already did, and I got some French bread and cheesecake," she said.

"Somebody wants to get lucky. I thought you had to work late?"

"I was supposed to, but House was just trying to shirk clinic duty. I am here, so I will let you go," she said, and then severed the connection.

I grabbed the containers of thawed lasagna and put them both on a plate, and put them in the microwave. I felt an arm circle my waist from behind, and I smiled.

"Miss me?" I asked, when I smelled her perfume.

"Like crazy," she said, as she put the canvas bag on the counter in front of me.

She kissed the side of my neck, and I shuddered. She and I are roughly the same height, she is taller by an eighth of an inch, but in heels she is taller by about four inches. She slid her left hand up to cup my breast, and her right hand down to my stomach. I grabbed her hands, and stepped away from her. She sighed, and then moaned into my mouth after my attack on her own. I pulled away, and then began going through the bag. I chopped the lettuce and tomatoes, and then put them in a bowl. She washed her hands and grabbed two bowls. She dished out salads for the both of us, and then grabbed salad dressing.

"How was your trip?" she asked, her eyes flitting between my breasts and her plate.

"It was uneventful, I am sorry we couldn't talk more, you will not believe how busy I was," I said.

"I understand, I was pretty busy myself," she said. "Between clinic duty and House's charades."

"At least you have the job now, and are no longer competing for it," I said.

"True, and the fact that House cuts me a few breaks when I wear low cut shirts," she said with a smirk, her eyes resting on my breasts.

"Yeah, that doesn't hurt," I said with a smile, as I examined her cleavage.

We finished our dinner, and then shared a slice of cheesecake, as I am diabetic and can't have too much sugar.

"I'll clean up while you get more comfortable," I told her.

"Okay, thanks, I feel kind of dirty," she said.

I cleaned the kitchen, and then sat on the couch to watch ESPN. She joined me twenty minutes later, naked as well. I smiled at her, and she smiled back as she settled beside me.

"So, are you terribly tired, or are you up for some naked fun?" she asked me once the game had ended.

I stretched and yawned, and she started giggling madly.

"What is so funny?" I asked.

"That was priceless," she said, as we stood up.

I turned the television off, and turned to her. I lifted her off her feet and carried her bridal style to the bedroom, all while she was still giggling maniacally. I tossed her on the bed, and pounced on top of her. Her laughter became infectious, and I started laughing with her. We lay I on the bed, our legs entwined, giggling like school girls.

"I missed you so much," I said, once our laughter had settled down.

"I missed you," she said, with a smile.

I reached over and moved her hair out of her face, and stared at her.

"What?" she asked, with a smirk.

"You are beautiful," I said.

"You are more beautiful," she said.

I will have you know that I am not as beautiful as she is. She is gorgeous, and while I am not ugly, I can't hold a candle to her. I practice judo on a regular basis and work out frequently so I am pretty ripped; she is thin with some muscle definition, but her proportions are much better than mine. I think she is more beautiful than I am.

"No, you are," I said, and then kissed her before she could protest.

Without breaking the kiss, I shifted so that I was on top of her, my thigh pressed against her sopping core. It never ceases to amaze me how she is always wet for me. I cupped her breasts, and then tweaked her nipples. She writhed against me, and whimpered in my mouth. She slid her hands over my back, not caring about the scars marring it. When she first saw them, she thought I was into bondage, but I told her about my childhood and how my mother would beat me with a bull whip. She had been eerily quiet after that, but accepted me as I am. I heard my cell phone ring my dad's ring tone, and sighed against her lips.

"Fuck," she groaned, as I slid from the bed.

"Hey Dad, you got my message, I take it," I said in Spanish.

I had left a message on his machine letting him know I had made it back to the states safely.

"Yes, I did, what are you up to?" he asked as I walked back into the bedroom, where Remy was lying beneath the covers reading a medical journal.

"I was about to have hot sex, but now I am going to have to suck up to get some," I said with a smile when Remy frowned at me.

"I'm sure that she is still in the mood," he teased.

"Yeah, I know, but still."

"Okay, well, I will let you go, call me tomorrow," he said.

"Okay, bye Dad," I said.

"Bye sweetheart," he said.

"I hate when you tell him about our sex life," Remy said, not looking up from the journal.

"I know," I said with a smirk as I slid into the bed beside her.

I took the journal from her and put it on her nightstand, before I resumed our kiss. I trailed my left hand down her body to the apex of her thighs, before running my fingers through her folds, which were dripping. I had to taste her, so I kissed my way down her body to her womanhood. I licked and slurped her hot pussy until she was bucking against my face. My tongue was as deep inside of her as far as it would go, and my nose bumped against her clit with each thrust. Her hands were clawing at my scalp, and her legs were wide open. I angled my head so that I hit her g-spot on each thrust, and soon her walls were clutching my tongue and she was screaming her release. Her body arched off the bed, as her hips lost the rhythm and went berserk. I lapped up her juices as well as I could, but the bed was still drenched. I licked until she pushed my face away. I kissed my way back up her body to her lips and then kissed her, making her taste herself on my lips. She kissed me thoroughly, and slid her hand between my legs, and I hissed. She put her hands on my hips and urged me to sit on her face. I did as she asked, and rode her face to orgasmic bliss; she gives really good head. I slid down her body, and parted her legs with my own. I spread our pussy lips, and began rubbing my clit against hers. I thrust slowly, building up the lust between us, allowing our nipples to brush with each thrust of our hips.

"Katie, please," she whimpered, and she is the only person allowed to call me that.

My name is Katherine Audrey Obejas, named after my mother's favorite actors.

"Please what?" I asked.

"Please, I need more," she said.

"What do you need?" I asked.

"I need to feel you inside of me," she said.

I stopped thrusting against her, and climbed out of the bed. I am not too keen on penetration, but she loves it. It doesn't matter if it is vaginal or anal; she loves to have me fuck her deeply. I went to our toy chest at the foot of our bed, and donned her favorite dong.

"Double," she moaned, when she saw me with only one dong.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Definitely," she moaned, as she began fingering herself.

I paused to watch her for a brief moment, and then I rooted around for a flesh colored dong and the double dong harness. I fastened the cherry colored dong into the double dong harness, and the one inch in diameter flesh colored dong beneath it, before donning the harness. I grabbed a bottle of water based lube, and lubed both dongs and two of my fingers. I climbed back into the bed carrying the lube. I fingered her puckered hole, slowly opening it, preparing it to take me. When I was convinced she was ready, and under her strong urging, I finally positioned myself to her openings. I slowly slid both dongs inside of her, slowly pushing inside of her until I bottomed out. She spread her legs wider, and grabbed my ass urging me to fuck her. I started a slow, steady rhythm.

"Please, Katie," she begged after awhile, and I finally obliged her, but only because I could slide more easily inside of her.

I began to really pound her, the tension building inside me like a spring ready to pop. I thrust harder at her insistence, and soon we were both panting and moaning. She bit my shoulder and dug her nails into my back as she came hard her muscles contracting and releasing caused the dong to vibrate against my clit, and I came as well. I collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily against her neck, sweat running down my back. Her body kept twitching with aftershocks, and I slowly pulled out of her. She groaned as the dong in her ass reach the last ring of muscle, I paused, debating whether to pull out or fuck her again. I decided to pull out because she looked tired; it came out with a wet plop, and I couldn't help the smile on my lips. I unfastened the harness, and pushed it off the side of the bed. I settled down on the pillow beside her, and pulled her closer to me. We cooled down and fell asleep wrapped around each other.

I awoke before she did, as usual, and I just lay there and watched her sleep. How did I get so lucky to have her in my life? I reached my left hand out and gently traced the tan skin of her back. She was facing away from me, but our legs were entwined, as they always are when we are in the bed, sleeping or otherwise. She shivered beneath my touch, and I smiled as the goose bumps rose on her skin. Even in her sleep, she is affected by my touch. I leaned closer, and kissed her shoulder, from the joint to the blade. The angle caused my left nipple to brush against her back, and a moan to work its way out of my throat. I kissed down her back to just above her ass, where I paused because she had shifted. I looked up toward the head of the bed, and saw that she had a mischievous grin on her face.

"Good morning," I whispered, as I slid up in the bed, dragging my body along hers.

"Morning," she whispered.

"You hungry?" I asked.

"Not for food," she replied as she shifted so that she was facing me.

We kissed, and she slid her hand between my legs. We both groaned when her cell phone started ringing.

"Hadley," she said into the receiver, a tad breathlessly.

I started to slide from the bed, thinking it was work calling, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back to her. I snuggled against her and nuzzled her neck.

"Foreman, what's up? ... I have plans today. … Laundry. … Yeah. After that? I am going to have lunch, and, then see a movie I think, no definite plans yet," she said, and then pressed the speaker button on the phone, and shifted in the bed to better accommodate my advances.

"Well, Chase, Cameron, and I are planning on doing something later today, and we were wondering if you would like to join us?"

"Is Kutner going?" she asked, as she stifled a moan.

"Is this a bad time?" the man asked.

"Yes," she moaned, as I took her nipple between my teeth.

"Well, maybe some other time," he said.

"Hmm, oh Foreman, not you, um, I would love to, but I am busy this weekend," she said.

"Well, maybe some other time," he repeated.

"Okay, I will call you later if things open up," she said, and then glared at me when I snorted, as her legs were wide open and my face was inches away from her core.

"Talk to you later," Foreman said.

"Later," she grunted as my tongue swirled around her swollen clit.

She hung the phone up, and ran her fingers through my hair and pressed my head against her. I dipped my tongue inside her, briefly. Just enough to tease her, and then I pulled out and traced around her entire womanhood. Her flavor is exquisite; if it had any nutritional value whatsoever I would just eat her all day. She let out this scream of pure pleasure as she reached her peak, her walls pulling me deeper inside of her. I lapped at her folds until she was clean of free-running juices. I slowly kissed my way up her body, and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. I smiled down at her, and she returned my smile.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"I should say so," she giggled.

"We should tackle that laundry," I groaned, and then slid from the bed.

She followed me to the bathroom, and straddled my lap once I had sat on the toilet. She peed between my legs, while kissing me deeply. I ran my hands up and down her back, and then I hissed when she reached between my legs and wiped. She slid from my lap, and walked to the shower while I flushed. I joined her in the shower, and we washed each other up. It was a quick shower, as I reminded her that we had tons of laundry to get done. I dressed in a pair of shorts without underwear, and a sports tank. She dressed in a pair of hot pants and a tank with one of her back up bras that her breasts spill out of the top. I wolf-whistled at her as she bent over to grab one of the canvas bags, and she giggled. I have never seen her so giddy.

"What is up with you?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You're all giggly, and smiley," I said, my voice light.

"As opposed to me frowning all the time?" she asked.

"No, it's just, nothing," I said.

"I just missed you," she said, as she cupped my cheek.

"I missed you as well," I said.

"I just realized while you were away, that I am really in love with you, and you are really in love with me, and that we are actually making this work," she said, softly while gazing into my eyes.

"Does that surprise you?" I asked carefully.

"No, I am just in awe that we are still in love after all this time. After four years, you still give me that little flutter in my belly; you still make me come so fucking hard. I have never been so sexually, emotionally, and psychologically satisfied with just one person. In the past I would have conversations with one woman or man, fuck another, and share things with yet another, but I only want to fuck you, and I only want to share with you, and," I cut her off with a kiss, and thought about making sweet love to her, but the laundry was begging to be washed.

"I get it, you love me, I do you as well. I really hate to ruin this moment, but my laundry from India doesn't smell too fresh, so I suggest we get that done, and then come home and have a romantic evening in," I suggested, one hand resting on her neck, the other on her hip.

"I would love that," she said, as she smiled at me.

I placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then started grabbing bags. We carried our laundry to my SUV and loaded it into the hatch. I drive a Cadillac Escalade, because I usually haul a lot of equipment to and from work, and I just like big vehicles.

"Are we out of detergent?" I asked her.

"Yes, that's why I didn't do any laundry, and well I hate doing laundry alone," she said a bit sheepishly.

"You want to give me my shot?" I asked, as we walked back into our apartment for the last bag and some breakfast.

"Of course," she said.

I pulled my pants down, while she gathered the supplies.

"Who gave you shots while you were in India?" she asked.

"Greg," I said, as she slid her hand between my legs to distract me from the needle stick.

"I bet he hated that," she said, with a chuckle.

"He had to call Brian afterwards to make sure he was still gay," I said.

"That is so funny," she said, as she pulled my pants up.

We ate a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, and then I drove us to the store to get some detergent and dryer sheets, and then to our usual laundry mat, but it was crowded so we grabbed a phone book and found one a little further from our neighborhood and the college to a less crowded place. In fact, we were the only ones there. I gave her a twenty dollar bill, which she exchanged for quarters with the Asian woman who spoke little English sitting behind the dingy counter. We loaded the washers with our pre-sorted clothes, and then I fill the coin slots while she walked behind me with detergent. Once the clothes were washing, we sat down in the hard fiberglass chairs against the front window pane and pretended to read the out of date magazines. I rested my hand on her thigh, and slowly rubbed circles on her inner thigh. She pushed my hand away with a smirk, and I nudged her back. Soon we were nudging each other and giggling maniacally, the little Asian lady glared at us and said something about us being foolish American's in Vietnamese.

"It isn't nice to cast judgment on people," I told her in Vietnamese.

She harrumphed, and just continued her menial tasks.

"Wanna really piss her off?" I asked Remy.

"Definitely," she said.

I leaned in and kissed her, while cupping her cheek. I kissed her softly, slowly. I relished in the feel of her silky tongue against my own, and the warmth of her mouth surrounding my tongue. I kissed her with all of the love I could muster. She caressed my neck, and then pulled away. I tried to follow her, but she wouldn't let me.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I want you," she whispered, her voice husky.

"So?" I asked.

"So, we are in public, and I am really wet," she said.

"So?" I asked again, as I caressed her inner thigh.

"So, if you don't stop, you are going to get fucked in public," she said, as she took my hand and held it firmly with her own.

"Okay," I said, and watched the clothes wash in the clear door of the machines, as I have this thing about having sex in public.

"So, I was thinking, that we could go out dancing, instead of staying in. You could wear that short skirt I love, and I could fuck you in the bathroom," she said.

"Or, after our laundry is finished, I could fuck you until you pass out, in the privacy of our own home," I said.

"Or, you could accompany me out with my co-workers," she said.

"Ah, so that's what this is about? You want to take me out to meet your friends from work," I teased.

"Not really, I mean, I would like to introduce you to them, but not as my wife or girlfriend. I don't really want my coworkers to know about my personal life," she said.

"Oh, well, then why don't you go out with them. I mean, I still have some work to do on my presentation for the Navy, so I am sure that I can keep myself occupied while you go hang out," I said, with a slight squeeze to her hand.

"No, I want to spend every moment with you," she said.

"Well, babe, I am going to have to work at some point this weekend, as I have a meeting with a Navy Commander at 0800 on Monday, and I haven't finished building their prototype," I said.

"Can't you work on it tomorrow?" she asked, as our washers began to stop.

"I could, but I know that we need to go grocery shopping for breakfast food, and my dad is probably going to drive down, so tomorrow I won't have the time," I said, as we began loading our washed clothes into wheeled carts and pushing them to the dryers.

"So, you were planning on doing laundry, and then going home and working on your project?" she asked, as she leaned down to toss the clothes into the dryer.

"I was planning to do laundry, fuck you until you passed out, and then work on my project," I explained.

"Oh, so fucking me comes before work?" she asked.

"Always," I said.

"Good answer," she said, as she leaned over and smacked my ass.

We sat in silence while our clothes dried, and then we folded them neatly, and placed them in our freshly washed canvas hampers. I drove us by this little Greek restaurant on the way home to get our favorite foods to go. We left the laundry in the car while we ate, and then we unloaded the car and put our laundry away. We share underwear as we wear the same size, so we have one drawer for underwear, separate drawers for bras as she is a C cup and I am barely a B. We share socks, and we share most of our clothes as we have almost the same build. I am a little thinner but, more muscular. We showered after putting our clothes away, and then she called her friend.

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" she asked, as she slid her wedding ring on that she never wears.

"Yes, I am sure, Remy. I am going to finish soldering these last few pieces and make sure it works correctly. After that I am going to masturbate while I think of you," I said.

"So, not fair. You have to make sure to masturbate for me later," she said.

"Maybe, we will see," I said.

"How do I look?" she asked.

I gave her a look that asked why she had even asked. She was wearing a pair of black jeans that could pass for slacks, and a white t-shirt that said "Clinically Insane" in red letters under a button-down, so that she could be ready for whatever type of environment she would be in. Her hair was down, and she had put on a bit of make-up, on her feet were my favorite casual sneakers that look kind of like bowling shoes.

"Call me when you get finished, see where I am, maybe you could join us," she said as she caressed my face.

"Maybe, did you pick me out something to wear?" I asked her.

"On the bed," she said.

"Okay, we will see. Are you driving or riding with someone?" I asked, as someone knocked on the door.

We live in a building that you have to be buzzed into, but I am guessing that whoever it was didn't know that her real last name is Obejas and couldn't find her name on the buzzer box so he just buzzed security. Or it could be my dad, in which case, he has a key. I stayed behind the screened wall, while she walked to the door, as I was naked.

"Hey Kutner, how's it going?" she asked.

"Well, and you?" he asked.

"Great. Katie, put your robe on, so you can meet Kutner," she said.

"I don't want to," I said, as I grabbed my robe.

"Please, I'll let you watch me instead," she said.

"Still don't want to," I whispered in her ear, as it was obvious this man knew that she was in fact married to a woman.

"Katie this is my friend from work Lawrence Kutner, Kutner this is my wife Katherine Obejas," Remy said, as she stepped to the side to allow me room to shake the handsome man's hand.

"Pleasure to finally meet you," he said.

"Likewise," I said.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you, I have to some work to finish, maybe next time," I said.

"Call me when you finish," Remy said.

"I will," I said, as I handed her a jacket.

She leaned over and kissed me chastely on the lips, but I held her close and deepened the kiss.

"That was cruel," she whispered against my lips.

"I know, have fun," I said, as she walked out the door.

I watched them leave, and then I went to work on my project. I worked for two hours, the soldering only took twenty minutes; I spent the rest of the time making it better. I called Remy, and she answered on the first ring.

"Are you coming out?" she asked.

"Yes, where are you?" I asked.

"Right now, we are at the bowling alley having a tournament. Chase is kicking our asses, House showed up as well, so we are having considerably less fun than we were. We have about six more games if you want to join us," she said.

"Okay, which bowling alley?" I asked as I pulled on the purple lace thong she had placed on the bed for me.

"The one on Rain, next to the diner we love," she said.

"Okay. Be there in a few," I said as I severed the connection, and pulled on the matching lacey purple bra, dark blue jeans, and t-shirt.

I put on a pair of black socks, and my favorite black dress shoes. They are way more comfortable than any pair of sneakers, except the ones that Remy is wearing. I grabbed my wallet, and car keys, and then I pulled my hair up into its usual bun

When I arrived at the bowling alley, they had just gotten a pitcher of beer, and were about to start another game. I joined in on House's team as Remy's team was already full, and I watched my wife drink beer. I didn't say anything to her in front of the others, but vowed to address it when we got home. She introduced me as a friend, and I was fine with that. House, Chase, Foreman and I were on a team, and Remy, Cameron, Wilson and Kutner were on a team. It surprised me that House was there; from the way that she described him he appeared to be a misanthrope. I just enjoyed the five games of bowling fun. I kicked Remy's ass, as usual. We were battling individually against the person whose name was on the same line as ours, and then we were competing as a team. Team House won, thanks to me and Chase, House lost to Cameron, which he wasn't very happy about. We sat and they had a few more beers, and I drank water.

"So what are you like a saint or something?" House asked me.

"Why do you ask that?" I asked.

"You don't drink, or swear, or talk about your sexual conquests," he said.

"Maybe I just like to keep my personal life, personal. I swear plenty, and I can't have alcohol," I said.

"Can't have alcohol, why not?" he asked, before taking a big gulp of the amber liquid.

"I am diabetic, and alcohol doesn't mix well with my medicine," I said.

"Well, phooey on your endocrinologist, she should have prescribed you a better regimen that allows you the wonders of alcohol," he said.

"It's okay, really. I am not a big fan of alcohol, I prefer to relax a different way," I said.

"How is that?" he asked.

"Tai Chi, meditation, Judo," I said.

"Oh, so you're a Buddhist?" he questioned.

"No, I am not into religion, I just prefer to unwind without the aid of alcohol," I said.

"Oh, so you have something against alcohol," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, it just isn't for me," I said.

"Have you ever tried it?" he asked.

"Yes, and I didn't like it, so I haven't touched it since," I said.

He just scoffed, and downed his beer.

"Well, I am off. Who is paying?" he asked.

"I'll pay," I said, as I reached for my wallet.

"No, I've got it," Wilson said.

"No, really, it's not that big of a deal," I said.

"Really, I can get it. I mean, no offense, but I am a doctor, I probably make twice what you make," he said.

"No, I don't think you do," I said, and groaned inwardly.

I hate it when people ask how much money I make in a year, or even a month. I could retire right now and not run out of money.

"I am an oncologist, I make quite a bit of money," he said.

"I am a freelance electrical engineer, and I make quite a bit of money as well, so if you are done arguing I will pay, as I joined in later, or we can split the cost," I said.

"Fine, we can split the cost," he said. "Out of curiosity, how much do you make?"

"That is something that I will never tell," I said, as I followed him to the counter to pay.

Our total was one hundred dollars, and I put a fifty on the counter, as did Wilson, and then they talked me into going with them to a club. I was only interested in the dancing, but I didn't realize they meant a strip club. I looked at my wife who had opted to ride with me, Wilson and House, as none of them were in any condition to drive. They gave me directions, and when I realized it was strip club, I glared at my wife. I have never been to a strip club, as I have no reason to go. I have a beautiful wife that I can see naked anytime I want. What more could I want? I drank water, and sat stiffly in my chair. Foreman was giving my wife the eye, and I growled under my breath. She was pretending that I wasn't even there, so I did the same. I listened to the music, and pretended to be interested in the dancers, but I was really keeping an eye on Foreman, who was trying to pick up my wife. Kutner was sitting between me and Remy, and he put his hand on my shoulder.

"She has no interest in him," he said, after I had turned to look at him.

"Oh, of that I am sure, I just don't trust him," I said.

"He's a good guy," Kutner said.

"As good as guys can be. She's a beautiful girl, and I am sure that he thinks he can give her something that her 'mysterious' spouse cannot," I said.

"Every man thinks that of beautiful women who are with someone other than themselves," he said, with a cheeky grin.

"Well, that is what makes women better than men," I said, and I can honestly see why she likes him.

He laughed, and then became engrossed in the show. I sipped my water, as I hate to have to go pee in public restrooms, and I couldn't fathom what a strip club restroom would be like. Lo and behold an hour into our strip club adventure my bladder was begging for release. I thought about just leaving, but the others were getting beyond drunk, so I stayed. I excused myself, and went to the restroom, which to my surprise was rather luxurious and smelled freshly cleaned. There was a chaise lounger in a little sitting area, and there were roomy stalls. I walked into one of the stalls on the end, and put two of those little sanitary paper things on the seat. Just as I was releasing my bladder, Remy called my name.

"I am taking a piss, Remy," I said.

"Which stall are you in?" she asked.

"The only occupied one," I said, as I reached forward to unlock the stall door.

She walked into the stall, and smiled at me as she reached behind her to lock the door.

"I can't believe you are actually peeing in public," she said, her gaze focused between my legs.

"I know, but I couldn't hold it, and you guys looked like you're having a blast and I didn't want to cut it short," I said.

"Oh. Well, I am about ready to go home," she said quietly.

"Okay," I said as I wiped myself.

"Katie, are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, I am feeling a little left out, and I am going insane with not being able to touch you," I admitted.

"You didn't have to sit so far away," she said, as the automatic flusher flushed the toilet.

"If I sat closer to you, I would have been all over you, especially when Blue Sun played. All I could see was our wedding night, when you did that strip tease for me," I whispered, as I stepped into her personal space.

"I was thinking of that too, that's kind of why I followed you in here. I thought you wanted to fuck me in the bathroom," she said.

"I would rather make love with you at home," I said, before reaching around her to release the lock on the door.

She moved out of the way so that we could exit the stall, and as we were exiting the stall Dr. Cameron walked into the bathroom.

"I knew it," Cameron said.

"Knew what?" Remy asked.

"That you two were more than just friends," she said, giddily.

"Well, congratulations, Cameron, keep your mouth shut," Remy said, as I washed my hands.

"I plan to; I just needed to know for myself. I was curious as to why Kutner volunteered to go up and get you rather than just calling you, but now I know why," she said.

"Why?" Remy asked.

"To meet your wife, of course," Cameron said.

I exited the bathroom, leaving them to their little showdown. I don't get why it's such a big deal to Remy that she is with me, but I let her have her secrets. I know that part of her secrecy is her fear that she will lose me, the way that she lost her mother and most people that she comes to love. I have the same fear, but I don't let it hinder my feelings for her. I returned to my seat, and as I sat down a scantily clad brunette sauntered over to me. I got a sinking feeling in my gut. She walked over, and straddled my lap just as my wife walked out of the bathroom with Cameron in tow.

"What are you doing?" I asked the woman.

"Your friends bought you a lap dance," she said.

"Why don't you dance for the guy with a cane," I suggested.

"They paid me double the amount to dance only for you, even if you tried to pawn me off on someone else," she said.

"I will pay you triple to get off me," I said, as I squirmed in my seat looking everywhere except at her bra clad breasts that were bouncing in my face.

"Nope, not gonna happen," she said.

I looked to my wife for help, but she was too busy laughing her ass off. I glared at her, and she laughed harder.

"You may as well just enjoy the show," the girl on my lap said.

"I am not comfortable with this," I said, as I gripped the chair tightly.

"Well, if you just relaxed, I am sure you would find it somewhat entertaining," she said with a smirk.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Candy," she said with a grin.

She slid off my lap, and then turned backwards and began gyrating on my lap. It was horrible. Remy has given me way better lap dances than that talentless hack. I breathed a sigh of relief when she finally slid off my lap, and I glared at everyone around me. Remy didn't even try to hide her amusement.

"Well, that was interesting," House said. "I'm beat. Chauffer, take me home."

I stood, as did everyone else. They left some bills on the table for their drinks, and then most of them piled into my SUV. Remy sat in the very back of the car with Foreman and Wilson. Cameron, and Chase sat in the middle, House sat beside me. Kutner drove himself home, promising to call Remy when he had reached his home. I dropped House off first, and then Wilson. Chase and Cameron third, and on the thirty minute drive to take Foreman home, my wife curled up in the middle seat and fell asleep, and Foreman sat in the passenger seat.

"So, how long have you known Remy?" Foreman asked.

"About five years," I said.

"How did you meet?" he asked.

"Her sister's wedding. We started talking, and found that we had quite a bit in common, and became friends," I said.

"Wow, so you pretty much know everything about her," he said.

"Not everything, she is very secretive and some things she doesn't share with anyone," I said.

"We all have those secrets," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"So, how did you get that scar?" he asked.

"That is my secret," I said.

"Fair enough," he said.

We sat in silence for a while, and then he finally asked what he wanted to ask in the first place.

"Do you think she would go out with me?" he asked.

"That is something you will have to ask her," I said.

"What's her type?" he asked.

"Again, that is a question you will have to ask her. I can't speak for her when it comes to those matters," I said.

"What types of people has she dated in the past?" he asked.

"Foreman, if you are interested in her, then you should be having this conversation with her, not me," I said.

"I will," he said.

"Good," I said.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" I asked.

"What's your type?" he asked.

"I am happily married, so my type doesn't really matter," I said.

"Is your husband your type?" he asked.

I chuckled at that.

"I am probably the biggest lesbian in the world Eric, and yes my wife is my type," I said.

"Wow," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"House was right."

"About?"

"You. He took one look at you when you walked into the alley, and said you were a lesbian. I argued that you weren't and he wouldn't back down. So at the strip club we all chipped in and bought you a lap dance to see how you reacted to it. I was convinced that you were straight, until just now," he explained.

"So, that's what you guys do? You see woman, and try to determine if she is gay or straight?" I asked.

"No, just Remy and her friends. We can't figure out if she is bisexual, or straight," he said.

"You don't think she is a lesbian?" I asked.

"No way, not the way she walks after she has really good sex," Foreman said.

"How do you know when she's had really good sex?" I asked.

"She smiles a lot, and her lover or whoever always leaves a hickey on her neck where it meets the collarbone, and of course the way she walks. Whoever the person she sleeps with is, really knows how to give it to her. I mean she walks like she spent the night getting reamed, you know? Like today, she barely sat down, and she was a little stiff," he explained.

"Look, Eric, I don't feel comfortable talking about Remy that way. She is a really good friend, and whether she gets reamed or not is her business," I said.

"Turn here. Well I don't know, I mean, I would like to know what kind of man it takes to hit that," he said.

"Eric, I am serious stop talking about Remy that way," I said.

"Sorry," he said.

"Is this it?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Nice meeting you," I said, just as Remy's phone rang.

"Likewise," he said, and then he exited the vehicle.

I leaned back to the middle seat to grab Remy's phone, but she had already gotten it.

"You made it home safely?" she asked. "Good, I was just listening to Foreman talk about how I walk like I have just gotten fucked really well to my wife. She tried to pretend she wasn't interested, but she likes to hear about her performance. I know. Well, night Kutner, I will see you on Monday."

"I knew you weren't sleeping. Foreman likes you, and wants to fuck you," I said.

"Ya think?" she asked, as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Well, I guess you are going to have to let him fuck you then," I said, and she playfully punched me on the arm.

"I guess so," she said.

"Well, that settles it, you should call him over to fuck, but I get to watch," I said.

"Are you being serious or are you playing, because it isn't funny," she said.

"Remy, our agreement was if you found someone that you wanted to fuck, that you could fuck them as long as I watch," I said.

"I don't want to fuck Foreman," she said.

I didn't say anything, I just drove in silence.

"Katie, I'm sorry about tonight, though it was entertaining to see you get that lap dance and be all stiff," she said.

I remained silent. She took the hint and didn't say anything else. I parked the car in my designated spot, and then I sighed. I got out of the car, and she followed suit. I unlocked the door, and followed her inside our apartment. She kicked her shoes off, as did I, and then I got naked. She took my example and I went to the bathroom and showered. I hate the smell of smoke, and I had to wash my hair twice before the smell came out. She joined me in the shower, and we washed up in silence. I left her in the shower and blew my hair dry. I walked silently to the bedroom, where I slid into the bed on my side and continued reading the book I had started in India. It was about a young man who live in the slums of India and goes on a game show and wins big. I think they are going to make it into a movie. I read the last two chapters while she piddled around in the bathroom. Just as she walked out of the bathroom, I turned off the side table lamp. She climbed into bed, and sighed.

"Katie, listen. I am sorry I didn't tell the guys about us, I just didn't want to subject you to House's antics. He can be cruel, and you have a short fuse. I didn't want you to go to jail for assaulting a handicapped man," she explained.

"I have gotten better over the years. I think you are ashamed of me," I said.

"Katie, look at me. Look at me. I could never be ashamed of you. How could you think that?" she asked.

"Because I have this ugly scar on my face," I said.

"Sweetheart, your scar makes you who you are, and I could never be ashamed of you. I love you, no matter what you look like outside, besides I think the scar is kind of sexy. I mean, it just adds to the mystery that is you," she said, as she rested her hand on my hip.

"Remy, you don't have to lie to make me feel better," I said, as I slid from the bed.

"Katherine Audrey Obejas, get your ass back in this bed and talk to me. I will not let you do this," she said.

"I am going to get something to drink, Rem, I don't feel so good," I said.

"Did you have dinner?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"No, I thought I would eat out with you guys, but my stomach was upset so I didn't eat," I explained as I grabbed a container of yogurt and a package of peanut butter crackers.

"Katie, you know you can't go without eating," she said.

"I know Remy, I've had diabetes since I was seven," I said, a bit testily, which was due to my low blood sugar.

"Here, eat this cheesecake, it will get your sugar up quicker, so you don't go into shock," she said, as she held out a spoon with some cheesecake on it.

"I have the yogurt and crackers," I said as my hands began shaking.

"Dammit Katie, eat the fucking cheesecake," she said, just before my legs buckled.

She gasped, and then rushed to my side. I had never had my blood sugar get that low, but I knew it was in part due to the fact I had had my insulin and I hadn't eaten the way that I usually did. I usually eat six meals a day, and drink plenty of water. I allowed her to feed me, and she chewed her lip nervously while she made me eat the cheesecake and crackers. My head started to ache, and I felt dizzy. She gave me some juice to drink, and held me while I recovered from my episode.

"Are you okay?" she asked, as she rubbed my head.

"I think so, can you help me to the bed?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, as she stood.

She helped me to my feet, and then lifted me in a fireman's carry to the bed. She went back to the kitchen to clean up, and then slid in the bed with me. She pulled me to her, and wrapped her arms around me, and I did the same. I rested my head on her shoulder, and slid my hand up to cup her breast.

"Remy, sometimes, I just get so afraid that you will find someone better, someone you can take in public with you, and leave me," I said.

"Katie," she began, but I silenced her by moving my hand from her breast to her lips.

"No, don't talk, just listen. I just need to get this off my chest. I am in love with you, and I know that you are in love with me, but we both know that you are way more beautiful than I am. We both know that you can have anyone in this whole world, but you are with me, and I guess my insecurities think you are only with me because of my money, or because I will do anything for you. Today, though, you showed me that you love me for me, and not because of my money, or what I give you, but because I make you happy. You make me happy as well, I just get crazy thinking that someone could take you from me," I finished, with a tear sliding down my face.

She brushed the tear away, and then kissed my forehead. She placed kisses on my eyes, down my cheeks to my chin. To each ear, and down both sides of my neck alternately. She kissed my entire body, front and back, and then she licked and bit every inch of my body until I was a puddle of need. She hovered above me as she slid her left hand between my folds, tracing every inch of my labia.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Remy, please, I need you," I moaned.

She kissed down my body, and explored my womanhood with her mouth. She took my left hand in her right as she used her left to hold my lips open while her tongue pleasured me. I ran my right hand through her hair, keeping her head between my legs, not that she would move her head. I rocked my hips against her face as she stroked her tongue against my g-spot, and a few well placed strokes later, I was coming like a freight train. I came so hard I passed out for a few moments. When I came to, she was rubbing my back, and kissing my forehead.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," I replied, as I leaned up to kiss her.

She allowed me a chaste kiss, but refused to let me deepen it or reciprocate the loving. She just held me.

"I hate that you are insecure about your scar, but you have to understand that I love you the way you are, and I am not ashamed of being with you. I just don't want people to stare more than they already do. It annoys the hell out of me when people ask me how good the sex is with you, or make crude jokes about the two of us. I just love you so much, and I don't want you to be subjected to that," she said.

"Remy, I know, but some things I can handle with you by my side," I replied, as I stifled a yawn.

"We can talk about this in the morning, why don't you get some sleep," she said.

"You too," I said.

We fell asleep wrapped around each other, and I woke early. I got up, and went for a run, and then returned home to find my wife cooking breakfast. A balanced meal was ready for me when I got out of the shower. I slipped into my robe, and sat at the table.

"Take your blood sugar," she said.

"Okay," I said, as I grabbed the meter and prepared it. "72."

"Why is your sugar so low? Tomorrow after your meeting I want you to stop by the hospital and get your blood taken so I can do an A1C," she said in her doctor voice.

"Fine," I said.

We ate breakfast in silence, and then she cleaned up our dishes.

"Would you like some more juice?" she asked.

"Yes, please," I said.

She walked over to the fridge and grabbed the carton of orange juice. When she was close enough, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto my lap. She yelped, and then smiled at me. I held her close to me, and nuzzled her neck. She carefully poured the juice for me, and remained seated firmly in my lap. I sipped the juice, and she drank some as well.

"So, what are you planning to do today?" she asked me after a while.

"I was planning to take my wife to see a movie, and maybe making out with her during said movie. It's Audrey Hepburn day at the Jester, and I was thinking we could head over there," I said.

"I suppose we can do that, although, I would prefer that we stay at home and watch Audrey on our own television, so that I don't have to put any clothes on," she said, and I pretended to mull it over, before I agreed.

"Okay, why don't you set up, while I take a piss," I said.

"Okay," she said, and slid off my lap.

We watched two movies, with food breaks, and were about to watch the third, when her phone rang.

"Ugh, why can't people just leave us alone for like twenty-four hours?" I groaned.

"Because then our lives would be boring," she said, as she grabbed her phone from the night stand. "Hadley. Foreman, what can I do for you? Um, well, uh, I can't," she said and then put the speaker phone on.

"Why not? I mean last night it was obvious that you were diggin on me, and well, naturally I thought you would want to have lunch with me," Foreman said.

"Well, I have plans already. I am spending the day with Katie, we are having a movie marathon, so maybe some other time," she said, and she has really got to stop being so nice or he will never get the picture.

"Why can't Katie spend the day with her wife, since she is so happily married?" he asked, a legitimate question.

It was the moment of truth; would she spill or dodge? She looked at me, and I smiled and shrugged. She walked over to me, and sat beside me, or rather on my lap.

"How do you know her wife isn't here with her?" Remy asked.

"Oh, so you and Katie, and her wife are just hanging out? Doesn't that make you a third wheel?" he asked.

"Her name is Katherine, she doesn't like to be called Katie," Remy said, dodging the question.

"Sorry, Katherine, anyway so you would rather hang out with your friend and her wife, instead of having lunch with me?"

"Yes," she said, without hesitation.

"Wow, am I that repulsive to you that you would rather be a third wheel?" he asked.

"No, I am just lying comfortably on my couch, and I am not a third wheel. In case you didn't notice last night, I was wearing a wedding ring," she said, as I ran my hand over her thigh.

"I was going to ask you about that. Why haven't you mentioned that you are married before now?" he asked.

"Because I prefer to keep my personal life and my work separate," she said.

"So, even if you weren't married, you wouldn't consider dating me?" he concluded.

"No, I have a strict rule about dating my co-workers," she said, as she shifted off my lap so that she was lying down with her head in my lap and her feet bent so that they rested on the arm of the couch.

I ran my fingers through her hair, while I rested my left hand on her belly.

"Let me guess, you don't date your co-workers," he said.

"Absolutely not," she said.

"Well, then it's a good thing you're married," he said.

I untied her robe, and pushed it open. I traced random patterns on the bare skin of her belly, and half-listened to her conversation.

"Look Foreman, if you don't mind, I am going to get back to hanging out," she said.

"Okay, maybe next time you go out with us, you could bring your husband," he said.

"We'll see," she said, and then severed the connection.

"He is getting annoying," I said.

"Yeah, hopefully he took the hint," she said.

I remained silent, as I pushed her robe open more, exposing more of her body to my sight. She gently grabbed my hand, and sat up. She shifted her body so that she was straddling my lap, and then she kissed me. I slid my hands inside her robe, the silk one that matched mine we had gotten as wedding gifts, and ran them over her body.

"Katherine? Remy? Are you home?" my father's heavily accented voice rang out.

"Why does he have a key?" she asked.

"In case of emergency," I said, as she retied her robe.

"Yeah dad, we are in here," I said.

"Are you decent?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, as Remy slid off my lap, and walked over to the closet to retrieve some clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.

I remained on the couch, and smiled at my dad when he walked behind the screened wall.

"I'm interrupting," he immediately concluded.

"Its okay, Remy is changing into some clothes, which I will do as well," I said as I stood.

"No, don't. I can go, we can schedule lunch. I don't want to interrupt your homecoming celebration," he said in Spanish as Remy walked out of the bathroom.

"You do know that I speak Spanish, right?" Remy asked my father in Spanish, as she hung her robe up on the closet door.

"Now I do," he said.

"Papi, Remy, not today," I said, as I stood, and walked to my dresser for a pair of underwear and a bra.

I grabbed a pair of basketball shorts, and a t-shirt, and disappeared into the bathroom. I slowly got dressed, as the spinning in my head was making a bit on the difficult side to do, but I managed to at least get my underwear on before I passed out.

Remy POV

I watched Katie walk into the bathroom, her face a bit paler than usual. I made a note of that, as I sat on the couch to wait for her to come out of the bathroom. Why does her father always have to show up or call at the most inopportune times? Like the night before, I thought I was going to die when he called just as we were getting it on. More importantly, what is up with her sugar levels? She goes to India for three weeks, and comes home with super low blood sugar. I sighed, and ran my fingers through my hair as I looked at my father-in-law who was staring at our unmade bed, where a few hours ago I had performed cunnilingus on his daughter. Shit. Now I am even hornier than before, at least I brushed my teeth. I studied my fingernails and then I heard a thud. I leapt from the couch, and raced to the bathroom. She was on the floor in her underwear, seizing. Shit. I grabbed a glucose pen from the drawer above my head, and stuck her with it as I shouted instructions at her father to call 911, and then call my job to let them know I was on my way with a patient with severe low blood sugar. I stroked her hair, while I waited for the EMTs. When they arrived, I briefed them on the situation, and then I joined them in the ambulance. Ricardo followed in his truck. When we got to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I followed the gurney into the ER shouting over the EMTs to the doctor on duty. I called Cameron and told her to come up to the hospital, and she said she would be there as soon as she could. I just watched helplessly as the ER doctors worked to get Katie stable. What the fuck is happening? I test her sugars, her A1C, everything regularly. She gets yearly physicals, she exercises regularly. She is healthy, so why is she sick? Cameron arrived, and I got her up to speed on what had happened, and I sighed. Ricardo and I sat in the waiting room while we waited for them to tell us something. Four hours after our arrival, and Cameron came out with that pitifully sad face on display.

"Dr. Hadley, she's stable, but she isn't responding to anything. We have her on a glucose drip, but her blood sugar is still critically low. I have done everything that I can do, so I am referring her case to House," she said.

"No, you can't. I mean, god, what are we going to tell him? I can't work this case, I can't," I said.

"It'll be okay, he will tease you a little, and then he will get over it," she said.

"No, it's not that. I just can't run diagnostics on my wife," I said.

"That is understandable, but you know her better than any of us do, so you are going to have to at least sit in on the differentials," she countered.

"I guess, can I see her?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, as she ushered me to the room where Katie was lying.

I walked into the room, and had to stifle the sob when I saw her just lying there. I walked over to her bedside, and sat down in the chair. I reached my hand out slowly to take hers into my own. I stroked the back of her hand, and then lifted it to my lips. I kissed it, and then rubbed my thumb over the spot I had kissed.

"So, we wait?" Ricardo asked, his annoying Cuban accent grating on my nerves just a bit more than usual.

"For the time being, yes. If she doesn't respond to treatment in a couple more hours, I am going to call my boss and ask him to take her case," I said.

"Did they run tests?" he asked.

"Yes, they did. They ran tests for everything they could think of, and those they couldn't. They didn't find anything. They are running more tests at the moment, some of which will take days before the results return," I explained.

"What about diseases that she could have gotten in India?" he asked.

"Ricardo, don't you think they thought of that? We are doctors, we know how to do our jobs, so please let us," I said.

"You are not doing your job right now," he said.

"I am waiting, waiting is part of being a doctor," I said.

"Fine, I am going to go pray, because it is what I do, unlike you," he said.

How could my Katie have been raised by such a man? He is such a hypocrite. Don't get me wrong, he would die for Katie, but still, he is arrogant and pompous and so much like House, yet so different. He hangs onto his faith as if it were the only thing keeping him alive, and yet he can't admit when he is wrong. He just frustrates the hell out of me, and makes my life hell every chance he gets. When Katie took me to meet him, he yelled at her in Spanish for about an hour before he just threw us out. She cried for a week straight until he called to apologize and say that he accepted her relationship with me if it made her happy. He even paid for our wedding, even though Katie is worth millions of dollars. He is a good guy, but he is really annoying.

"Dr. Hadley, um, Dr. Cameron told me to keep you informed of the test results. She is negative for malaria," an intern told me.

"Thanks," I said, as I kept my gaze on Katie's face.

When Katie and I first met, I was in a relationship with a man that was going nowhere, and she was dating a super model whom she hated. It was all such a horrible time. My sister introduced us at her wedding, and we hit it off immediately. Her model left her for some guy with large muscles that night, and my guy left with some blonde bimbo. We went home together, and had what was to be the best sex of my life at that time, and since. She knows how to give it to me just the way I need and like it. She knows when I need it rough, and when I need it soft. She just knows me better than anyone in this world, and I cannot lose her. We had awesome sex that night, and the next morning she apologized profusely.

"By sleeping with you, I assumed something about you that I should not have assumed, and that I promised myself I would never assume about any woman," she had said as she got dressed.

"What did you assume?" I had asked, as I watched her get dressed, all the while wanting her to take those clothes off so that I could have my way with her, again.

"I assumed that you were easy, and that you didn't respect yourself. It is disrespectful to do such a thing about anyone, and you are so sexy and beautiful, and I just couldn't help myself, but that is beside the point. Have dinner with me so that I don't feel so guilty," she said, her face a plea of desperation.

I fell in love with her right then.

"So, by sleeping with me after just meeting me, means that you assume I am easy and I don't respect myself, so what does that say about me? I mean, I was a willing participant in everything we did last night. I think I even initiated it," I had said, as I allowed the sheet to slip lower on my body, exposing my nakedness to her greedy eyes.

"Please don't do that," she had pleaded.

"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No, it makes me want to jump your bones again, but I won't do that until I take you on a proper date first."

"And if I don't want to go on a date with you?"

"Then we will never have incredibly amazing sex again," she said.

"Your loss," I had said, and she left.

I begged my sister for her phone number after three days, which is unlike me, and I set up a date with her. We ate at a really nice Italian restaurant, and she refused to let me pay. After our date, we had incredible sex, and thus a pattern was formed. We would go on a date, and then have incredible sex afterward. If she came over for just sex, we went on two dates before we would have sex again. It evolved into more than just sex under the pretense of dating, as we would talk while lying in bed, or we would do things during the day like go to museums, or the zoo etc. It was so much fun dating her, and then we got married, and it got even more interesting to be around her all the time, to not have to wait to see her again. She is such a goof ball at times, and other times she is so romantic. We have only had three real fights in the five years we have known each other. The first fight was over us going to the next level of our relationship, and surprisingly it was I who wanted to take our relationship to the next level. She had argued that we were just having sex under the pretense of dating and had no real premise for being exclusive or serious dating. I made her a bet, if I could prove to her that I actually knew things about her then she had to be exclusive with me, if I didn't know personal things about her then we could call it off.

"Ask me anything," I had said, as I gnawed my bottom lip nervously.

"Okay, what's my full name?" she had asked.

"Katherine Audrey Obejas, that was an easy one," I had said.

"Okay, when is my birthday?"

"October 11, 1985," I'd said.

I know I am robbing the cradle a little.

"Okay, how old was I when my mom died?"

"Four, how old was I?"

"Twenty."

By this time, we were face to face, and breathing hard. I reached out and caressed her face.

"Katie, look, we can stand here all night and ask each other personal questions, or you can just admit that you are just as in love with me as I am with you," I said.

My palms were sweaty, my heart was hammering in my chest.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you aren't what I thought you were, and I wouldn't want to date you seriously," I said, as I dropped my hand.

"Remy, look, I am not looking to get into a serious relationship. I work too much, you work even more, and we would never work."

"Fine, if you want to throw away something that has the potential to be special, go ahead, but when you wake up alone wondering what could have been, do not come crawling back to me," I said, angrily.

"Remy."

"What?"

"Shut up," she'd said, just before she kissed me.

We had really awesome sex, and she agreed to at least give us a try. That was four and half years ago. We were married six months later, and have never been happier. God, our lives are pathetic. Our second fight was over where we were going to live after we were married, I wanted to stay in my apartment, and she wanted us to move somewhere half way between the hospital and the airport. I won that battle, only because I had manipulated her with mind blowing orgasms. Our third fight was two years into our marriage, when she found out that I could have Huntington's and I refused to get tested. That one did not go over well, and we actually separated for a few months. She came home one night, and cried.

"When I think about the possibility of not having you in my life, it makes feel like I can't breathe," she had said from the foot of the bed, where she was standing. "If it makes you happy, not knowing whether you have Huntington's or not, then so be it, but if you start observing the symptoms, promise me that you will at least get treatment."

"I promise," I had said, and then she had cried.

I had held her so tightly while she cried, and cried. It seems like she does all the crying. We haven't had any fights regarding her father, which is mostly because we had agreed not to disagree about our fathers or families period. We have had words, but left it at that.

Anyway, I just held her hand while I waited for something to change. Cameron brought me a sandwich around five.

"Thanks," I said.

"Not a problem. How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I am doing as well as can be expected," I said, as I looked at the sandwich.

I took a tentative bite, wondering if my stomach would immediately expel the food or allow me some nourishment. I could feel the acids churning, so I chewed the bite slowly, and then set the sandwich aside.

"Do you not like it?"

"What? Oh, no, just nerves, and all. My stomach is all jittery," I explained.

"Oh, that is understandable," she said.

"Yeah, so, thanks for the food, but I just want to be alone," I said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I'll go. I will drop by tomorrow, check up on her progress," she said, and on her way out she touched my shoulder.

I just sat in that chair for hours, I eventually finished the sandwich, but I had to force myself to hold it down. By the time that House came in the next morning, I was a complete wreck. I had watched her vitals all night, with no change. I had taken her blood sugar, and redid her A1C myself. Ricardo never came back to the room, so I assumed he was still in the chapel praying. I braced myself for whatever House was going to say or harass me about when I walked into the conference room in scrubs, without makeup.

"Good morning kids. 13 why don't you brief us on our new patient as I find it very interesting that you share last names," House said as we sat at the table.

"Katie," I began.

"Oh, so you do know the patient, I was under the impression that it was mere coincidence that you had the same last names, though you rarely sign your name with it," he mocked.

"Katie," I began anew.

"Isn't that your friend who went bowling with us on Saturday?" Foreman asked.

"Do you want her history or not?" I asked.

"Sorry, go ahead," Foreman said.

"Katie is a type one diabetic, but apparently her blood sugar is unusually low. I thought of everything that could possibly cause her blood sugar to be low, I even took a biopsy of her pancreas, which is waiting for Wilson to double check."

"When did the symptoms first present?"

"Saturday night after bowling, we went home, and her sugars plummeted. I had to force feed her some cheesecake to get her to stop shaking," I said, and then braced myself for the barrage of questions I knew would follow that admission.

"So, she went home with you?" Foreman asked.

"No, she went home. We live together."

"Does her wife know?" Foreman asked.

"Yes," I said, as I fiddled with my wedding ring.

"You're her wife," Taub said suddenly, as if the light bulb finally went off in his head.

"Yes, I am her wife. Can we please just find out what's wrong with her?"

"It's obvious, she has pancreatic cancer," House said.

"I didn't see any cancer in the contrast, and the ER doctors found no tumors. She was irritable with me that night, and she is never irritable, nor is she that severely insecure about her scar to allow it to bother her to point of her crying. She genuinely thought that I would leave her for Foreman, no offense Foreman, but I wouldn't leave her or cheat on her for all the money in the world."

"Right, so one of you is cheating."

"She wouldn't cheat on me. She is probably the most honest person in the world. She will say what's on her mind, even if it will hurt my feelings, but that is one of the many things I love about her," I explained.

"There is no way that she is the one who makes you walk funny the day after," Foreman said.

"Because she's a woman?" I asked angrily.

"Well, yeah, I mean she lacks the physical strength to really give it to you," he said.

"I will not even dignify that with a response. So House, what do you think?" I asked.

"What do you think? I mean, you obviously know her better than we do. What kind of habits does she have, and have you gotten anything new in your lives, like a new sex toy?"

"She has the same routine. Every other day she runs, and works out for about three hours; unless she has been on a business trip; in which case she just goes for her run and then spends the day with me in bed. We usually do our laundry together on the weekends, other than that she goes to meetings with the military and she uses their facilities to work on whatever project she is doing for them. Most of the time she is out of the country, and I make sure her vaccines are up to date for the region she is going to be in," I said.

"So she just returned from India, right? You made sure she was vaccinated for malaria, hep c, etc? Who helped her with her insulin shots, as I saw no fat on her body so I assume she takes injections in her rear?"

"She does, and her business partner Greg gave her injections while she was in India," I said.

"Call Greg, we need to know everything that she ate or came into contact with while in India," House said, as he stood. "Taub test 13 for STDs, Kutner test our patient for the same, Foreman come with me."

"Where are you going?" I asked as I stood.

"To your place of course, we have to find out what you're hiding," he said.

"I am coming with you," I said.

"That would be counterproductive, we have to test you for sexually transmitted diseases, and whatever contagious disease you may have," he said.

"What would be counterproductive is testing us for STDs, we got tested when we became exclusive, and we haven't slept with anyone other than each other since then," I countered.

"Lovely story, however, it's a load of bull," he said.

"Whatever, I don't give you consent to do this, if anything is missing I will sue you," I said, before I left the conference room and followed Taub to the lab.

I allowed Taub to take my blood, and even helped both him and Kutner perform the tests, all of which came up negative.

"So, Remy, how long have you been married?" Taub asked.

"Four years, it will be five in four months," I said.

"Four months, eh?" Taub asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You requested a week off in four months didn't you?" Taub asked.

"Yes, Katie and I are going to the Cayman Islands for our anniversary," I said simply.

"Really? How can you afford that?" he asked.

"That is none of your business," I said, respecting my wife's wishes to not have her worth revealed.

"Excuse me," he said.

"Look, Taub, I just prefer to keep my private life private, it is hard being the only woman in a group of five, without people knowing about my sexual preference. I have male friends, and they don't hesitate to let me know that my wife and I are their masturbation material. I am just a little tired of being treated like I am nothing but a piece of ass to the people I work with, I mean most people don't take me seriously because all that they are doing is picturing me in some weird sex position with my wife," I ranted.

"I completely understand," he said.

"Good," I said.

"So you guys are both negative for syphilis, gonorrhea, HIV, I think we should get a cervical sample and test for HPV, and cervical cancer," Taub said.

"Is that plausible?" I asked.

"Well, if it is cervical cancer, it could have spread to the pancreas or adrenal gland, it wouldn't hurt," he said.

"I will get a sample," I said.

"Shouldn't one of us get it, I mean, never mind," Kutner said, under my fierce stare.

I exited the lab, and then headed for the supply room to gather the required supplies. I hadn't performed a pap spear in years, but it was like riding a bike; something you never really forget how to do, besides there was no way I was going to allow my coworkers to look at my wife's vagina. I called a nurse to help me get her into position and to hold the light for me while I retrieved a sample. It was very difficult to keep it platonic when I still needed her to satisfy a small bit of lust I had remaining. I managed, though, and handed the sample to the nurse. I removed the gloves and then resituated her legs so that she was covered up. I placed a kiss to her forehead, and then left the room with the sample. I gave the sample to Kutner, and he looked at me with a very strange look.

"What?" I asked.

"You left before I could tell you that we should probably get a vaginal sample from you. If she performed cunnilingus on you and you have any bacteria that may have affected her," he let his voice trail off.

"I'll get Dr. Cameron to do it," I said, before I disappeared from the lab.

I found Cameron in the ER, very busy, so I opted for Dr. Cuddy.

"Is there something you need, Dr. Hadley?" she asked me as I walked through the clinic.

"Yes, actually, I would greatly appreciate it if you would take a vaginal sample so that House is satisfied that I haven't been cheating on my wife and that I don't have any sexually transmitted diseases," I said.

"Um, okay," she said.

"My wife is sick, and House is convinced that one of us is cheating, and this is the only way show him otherwise," I said.

"Okay, I'll meet you in exam one," she said.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and then made my way to Exam One. I walked into the room, closing the door behind me. Starting with my shoes, I removed the bottom half of my clothing. I put on a paper gown and pulled out the stirrups. I placed the unopened supplies on a tray next to the bed, and then I climbed onto the table. Cuddy walked in just as I was sitting down on the table, and she motioned for me to lie back as the nurse entered behind her.

"You know that this is completely unnecessary, right?" she asked me as she sat on the stool and positioned my legs in the stirrups.

"I am aware, but I just want to find out what's wrong with her, and if this makes House happy, then I am all for it," I said as I slid my hips toward the edge of the table to allow her easier access.

"You've had sex recently," Dr. Cuddy said before she could stop herself, and then she blushed profusely.

"It was great, too," I said.

"Was it?" she asked.

"Yes," I grunted as she scraped along my cervix.

"That's good," Cuddy said, as she put the sample in the specimen jar.

"Yeah, I just wish she were conscious right now, because I am starting to get worried," I said, as I took my legs out of the stirrups.

"Let me know about her progress," Cuddy said, as she handed me the sample.

"Thanks," I said.

"You are most welcome," she said, before she exited the room.

I pulled my panties and pants on, and then took the sample back to the lab. After I dropped off the sample, I dropped by Katie's room to find House badgering her father.

"Remy, there you are. This man thinks that I should allow him to do surgery on Katherine," Ricardo said.

"What kind of surgery, House?" I questioned.

"I think that we should take a bigger chunk of her pancreas," he said.

"Why, it isn't pancreatic cancer, Wilson confirmed," I said.

"It could be another disease that attacks the pancreas," he said.

"Like diabetes?" I questioned.

He didn't say anything.

"If you can't come up with a better reason why you want to cut my wife open, then the answer is 'no'," I said.

"Fine, be an idiot," he said, before caning away.

I followed him to the elevator, and back to the conference room, where Foreman was waiting with Taub and Kutner.

"You didn't run the tests?" I asked.

"There is no need, you were telling the truth," House said.

"About what?" I asked.

"Your fidelity. How many dildos do you guys need?" he asked.

"You went through our toy chest?" I asked.

"Yes, we had to make sure there were no contaminants. Do you always wash your toys in the dishwasher?"

"If they are dishwasher safe, yes, but we sanitize them all once a month," I said.

"So which of you likes it up the ass?" he asked.

"That is none of your business," I said.

"So it's you, that explains why you walk funny," he said, and I didn't bother to refute it.

"So, did you find anything in our place?"

"No, did you call Greg?"

"I completely forgot," I said.

"He was at your apartment, and is very upset with you because you didn't let him know what was going on," House said, impersonating Greg's nasally whine.

"Whatever, he'll get over it. I hate drama queens," I said.

"Right, so what causes low blood sugar in a diabetic?" House asked.

We went through differentials again, and he sent us to test for something else. You know the routine. We dispersed to run our various tests again, but to no avail. I went home to get a change of clothes so that I could stay at the hospital with my wife. I ran a few tests overnight that I thought might give us some headway, but none of them helped. I slept a few hours on the cot that a nurse had wheeled in for me, but I kept having the same nightmare that Katie died. I eventually climbed into the bed with her, mindful of her IVs and various other tubes. I rested my hand on her belly and my head on her shoulder, and just watched her lie there. It looked like she was just asleep, not in a coma. I moved my hand from her belly to her face, and traced her features. When I got to her lips, someone knocked on the door. I looked up and saw that the blinds were closed, so I had no idea who was on the other side of the glass. I carefully got up from the bed, and then I walked to the door. I slid it open and was not at all surprised to see House standing there leaning on his cane.

"What?" I asked.

"Why aren't you at work?" he asked.

I looked down at my watch, then glared at him. It was only five in the morning.

"House, did you think of something?" I asked.

"I need your permission to run some more tests," he said.

"What kind of tests?" I asked.

"If it saves her life, does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes, it does. I don't want you taking too big a risk with my wife," I said.

"If you can't be objective, I am going to have to fire you," he said.

"How can you ask me to be objective with my wife lying in a hospital bed?" I asked.

"Fine, have it your way. You're fired. So, are you going to give me permission, or do I need to go get the religious nut?" he asked.

I mulled it over in my head. He could be right and find out what's wrong with her, like he always does, or he could kill her. Did I really want to risk my wife's life?

"Fine," I said.

"Excellent," he said. "Oh, by the way, you're not really fired, I just wanted you to stop being such a wuss."

I didn't say anything, I just went back inside the room. I sat in the chair beside the bed and pulled my legs up so that I could rest my head on my legs. I just stared at her comatose body. I was oblivious to Foreman coming in to start her on an IV so that they could take her to surgery. When they came to get her for surgery, I woke from my stupor. I followed them and observed from the student overlook. I felt a hand touch mine, and I looked over at the person.

"Don't tell anyone about this or I will kill you and make it look like an accident," he said.

"Of course," I said.

When they were finished with her surgery, they pumped her full of some drug, at that point I didn't care what was wrong with her only that she got better. She awoke an hour later, and I removed her ventilator.

"Don't try to talk," I whispered as I grabbed her cup.

I took the sponge and wet her mouth, as she couldn't eat or drink yet.

"What happened?" she rasped, her voice thick from not being used and having a tube in her throat.

"I don't know, but House is doing everything he can to find out and fix it," I promised.

"Come closer," she whispered.

I kicked my shoes off, and carefully climbed into the bed with her. She shifted so that she was facing me and leaned over and kissed me softly on the lips before she rested her head on my shoulder. A few moments later she puked blood all over me. I had the nurses page House and the team, while I tried to locate the hemorrhage. I had tears of frustration running down my face as I watched helplessly as she continued to vomit blood. I allowed Forman and Kutner to take over so that I could take a shower and change clothes; I slid down the side of the stall and cried. I haven't cried in a while, and it felt good to let it out. When I had finished in the shower, I put on a pair of her underwear and the pink scrubs she likes for me to wear. I made my way to the lab with a sample of her blood, thinking that maybe I could find something that House had missed. I poured hours into the lab; Kutner came in and tried to talk me into leaving several times, but I just had to keep working so that I didn't break down again. She was back in a coma, with no leads on what was causing her condition. I just kept searching. Cameron came by the lab, and asked me to lunch, but I declined. Hours passed, and still nothing. I took a break around six that night, and headed to the cafeteria. I picked at a salad, and then went back upstairs to the lab to look for anything that I had missed.

"She's awake," Kutner said, at nine that night.

"What did you give her?" I asked.

"She's dying," Kutner said, as he sat beside me.

"So am I, what does she have?" I asked.

"Cancer," he said softly.

"What kind?" I asked.

"Ovarian, its spread to her pancreas, but we were able to get most of if out of her pancreas. Wilson is focusing on attacking the cancer in her ovaries, he doesn't want to have to remove them, but it may come to that," Kutner said.

"We want kids, and she was going to carry them because I didn't want to risk giving them Huntington's," I said, I was numb.

"Wilson is waiting for you in her room to talk to you more about his plan, but I felt that I should be the one to break the news," he said, and I hugged him.

"Thank you," I said, as he returned my hug.

"Of course," he said, and then he released me.

I left the lab, and walked slowly to her hospital room. I walked in to see that her father wasn't there, and Wilson and House were standing over her bed talking to her about treatment plans. She spotted me and reached her hand out to me.

"Remy, why didn't you tell me?" she asked, as I took her hand.

"About what?" I asked.

"Huntington's," she said, as she tightened her grip on my hand when she felt me try to pull away.

"I was going to, but I wanted to wait for the right moment. It isn't easy telling someone that you are going to die," I said.

"True, but you know that you can tell me anything," she whispered in Spanish.

"So, Wilson, what's the prognosis?" I asked, as I tore my gaze from Katie's face.

"Well, as I was explaining to Katherine, we have to act quickly. Ovarian cancer is not easy to fight, and I know that you two were planning to see a fertility doctor next month to start planning your family, but we may have to remove her ovaries. I won't know how far it spread when House opened her up earlier, until I run a few more tests," Wilson said.

"But you got the cancer out of her pancreas?" I asked.

"For the most part, but she will have to be on pills for the rest of her life to help compensate for the missing part, otherwise she'll die. I want to schedule her for radiation so that we can shrink the tumors, and I have started her chemo. Now all we do is wait," he said.

"Okay," I said.

House and Wilson left the room and I slipped my shoes off and climbed into the bed with Katie.

"How bad is it?" she asked me.

"I don't know, I will talk with Wilson some more later," I said.

"Not me, you," she said as she rubbed the back of my hand.

"I have time," I said.

"How much, Remy? More than me? Less than me?" she asked, her voice strained.

"I'm not sure, I have to take a few more tests to find out," I said.

"You should take them," she said.

"It can wait, your health is more important right now," I told her.

"No, it isn't. You are dying as well," she began, but I silenced her with a kiss.

"Let's talk about something else," I said.

"Remy, you can't hide from it and hope it will go away," she reasoned.

"Talking about it won't help either," I argued.

"Fine," she said with a sigh.

She kissed me, softly, as she caressed my face. A single tear slid down her face, as she stared into my eyes. She leaned forward and kissed me again. I pulled her closer to me, and rested my forehead against hers. We lay that way for a while, before a knock on the door interrupted us.

"Thirteen, a moment please," House said.

I sighed, before I slid from the bed.

"What House?" I asked.

"I took some of your DNA and had it tested, here are the results," he said, as he handed me an envelope.

"Did you read it?" I asked.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"So, it's bad news?" I questioned, as I looked at the unsealed envelope.

He just hobbled away. I walked back into the room, and handed the envelope to Katie.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Test results, telling us how long I have until I die," I said, as I slid back into the tiny hospital bed with her.

"You have a bout ten years," she said, as I got comfortable.

"Ten years?" I questioned as I took the paper from her with shaking hands.

I skimmed the page that outline the progression of the disease, and the part that broke down how fast the GAC bonds were forming. Ten years. Well that certainly puts things in a very different perspective. I tossed the papers onto the tray, and sighed.

"Are you okay?" she asked, shaking me out of my stupor.

"Yeah, just a little shocked. I have an expiration date, now," I whispered.

"So do I," she whispered as she slid her hand beneath the hem of my scrubs, toying with my navel.

I put my hand on top of hers, as she was turning me on and I didn't want to have sex in the hospital where House could take a picture. I just held her hand to my body, relishing in her warmth. We lay that way until I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to the feel of soft lips on my neck, and a warm hand circling my clit. I gasped and spread my legs wider to accommodate the advances, completely oblivious to the fact that we were still in the hospital. That is until I heard House's voice.

"Well, that explains why her heart monitors were going berserk," his very annoying voice said, and I opened my eyes.

"Katie," I hissed, when she didn't remove her hand from my scrubs.

We were covered up, but it was obvious where her hand was.

"Is there anything that we can do for you House?" Katie asked, as she slowly began circling my clit again.

"Exactly what you are doing right now," he said with a leer.

"Leave," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.

"I am waiting for Wilson, we are going to take you down for radiation," he said.

"It can wait. I believe this is more important. It may be the last time we will have the chance for a few months," she said.

"House," I said, and he stood and left.

She slid two fingers inside of me and curled them up against my g-spot. I came hard and fast. I lay there, relishing in the feel of her fingers inside of my pulsating pussy. She kissed my neck, and then pulled out of me and licked her fingers clean. She wouldn't let me reciprocate, so I just lay there. House came back with Wilson twenty minutes later, and the two of them took her to radiation. House pulled me aside and told me about a trial that Foreman was working on for Huntington's. I signed up, because I had promised Katie, and if she found out about the trial and that I hadn't tried it she would be upset.

Four months later

She's gone. I can't believe she's gone. The cancer had spread further than Wilson had predicted, and there was nothing he could do. He did try, and for that I thanked him. Our anniversary is tomorrow, and I am still going on the cruise, I am taking my sister with me as a way for us to say goodbye together. I mean she was the reason that we met in the first place. My sister is pregnant with her second child, only three months. The funeral was hard to plan. Ricardo and I sat down with her lawyers and discussed her will. She left her designs to Greg she left her car to her father. She left money to various charities, and the rest of her money and things she left to me. I haven't cried yet, but I know that I will soon. Ricardo and I decided on a Catholic ceremony, because I didn't have any fight in me to argue with him. She had already purchased her own coffin and plot in Chicago, because she considers that to be home. The coroner gave me her wedding ring, and her locket. I put the ring on the necklace and put it around my neck. I could barely function. The team was there at her funeral, they even came to visit us when she was in the hospital. I am going to live longer than ten years, the treatment worked. I can't decide if I am excited or not. She's gone. I am sitting in our apartment in the dark, so that I can smell her. I am holding the shirt she was wearing when she died, it smells like medicine and piss, but I can't bring myself to put it down. The last of my guests have just left, and I sent the food home with Ricardo, as I won't be here for two weeks. Cuddy is trying to convince me to take some more time off when I return, but I refuse. I don't want to stay at home alone. I hate her not being there when I get home. I have already packed, and I made sure to get my medicine because she would have wanted me to continue taking it. My sister went to the video store to return the Hepburn movies we watched two days ago. It made us feel close to her.

Two weeks later

The cruise sucked. I mean, it was probably fun for someone, but I couldn't enjoy it. I went scuba diving, but it was empty without her. My sister, was too terrified to dive deeper than ten feet, so I went alone with the guide. At dinner, several women tried to hit on me, but I politely declined. My sister refused to be seen with me, because she wanted me to enjoy being there and possibly making a new friend. After the first day of telling everyone I was married, or not interested, I just stayed in my room. The captain of the ship came by and gave her condolences, she had been friends with her. I can't say her name without tearing up. The captain catered to my every need, to the point of me telling her to back off. I worked out like crazy and ran, because I wanted to feel close to her, and those were things she enjoyed doing. The cruise was so difficult to get through by the third day I was ready to just go home. I thought about just calling for a helicopter to come and get me, but my sister talked me into staying. I barely ate, and I barely spoke to anyone. When we got back to the port, I bolted for the airport, and waited for my flight for three hours. When we had originally planned it, we had planned for that three hour gap to be filled with orgasms, as we weren't sure how comfortable we would have been making love on the boat. I am certain now, that we would have been okay. Our cabin was very secluded. I go back to work tomorrow, but I am not sure that I am ready to be honest. I think it will help, but I am sure that I will think of her. I can't even say her fucking name. My sister just left an hour ago, after I convinced her that I was going to be okay. I am sitting on the couch, watching our wedding video. She was so beautiful. She wore a dress, which I had to bribe her into. She hates dresses, skirts, anything overly girly really. I don't mind dresses, but I prefer pants. Her dress was a really long number that covered her bare feet. We had decided to get married outdoors, and I was okay with that. We got married at Titus Sparrow Park in Boston, and then went to a Red Sox game. It was beautiful. My sister stood on my side, and Greg on hers, in a dress. It was very small. My dad walked me down the aisle and her dad walked her. We walked in from opposite sides, and met at the makeshift alter. Her hair was up in this fancy hairstyle, and she actually wore a little make-up. I was so taken away.

"Don't get used to this. This is a one-time deal," she had said when we took hands.

"Okay," was all that I could say.

We exchanged vows, not the traditional kind, we had written our own, and then we kissed. It was such a soft, love-filled kiss it took my breath away. She wore her dress all day, as did I, which was our agreement. We even wore our dresses to the game, where we had box seats; a gift from her father. We spent the night in a hotel in Boston, but we didn't make love, as we were way too tired. The next morning we flew to Hawaii, and spent a week there, before going to Jamaica, for five days. From Jamaica we went to the Canary Islands for three days, and then to Greece by way of France and Italy. We made love on top of the Eiffel Tower, which is a lot easier to do than one would think. It is so hard to wake up without her there, knowing that she won't be back.

Three weeks later

I quit my job. I can't do it. I can't go there everyday, and walk by the room she died in. I gave Cuddy my resignation two weeks ago, and House tried to talk me out of it, but I told him to fuck off. I am standing in our apartment, with boxes at my feet. I don't know if I want to get rid of her things or not. I am keeping her computer, and all of her tools. I am keeping her clothes, because they were mine as well, we wear the same size in everything except bras, but my sister took those so that she didn't have to spend money on bigger bras during her pregnancy. I am moving away from the Eat coast. I got a job at another hospital in San Francisco. I won't know anyone, and maybe that is what I need so that I can mourn her death, but I am hesitant because I will be so far away from her grave. I have driven up almost every weekend since her death, just to talk to her, be near to her. I am almost done packing, and I have another interview at a teaching hospital in Boston. They are interviewing me for the diagnostics class, and another is interviewing me for a job as a general practitioner. I am not sure that I want either job, mostly because I am not sure I want to be a doctor anymore. Medicine failed her, and is failing me. I thought that the trial was helping me, but my new results say that I have less time than I originally thought.

Six weeks later

I have written my will, and left most of everything I own to my sister and charities. My things are still packed in the boxes except for the few things that I have taken out to wear. The tremors started two days ago, and I decided that I am going to end my life tonight. It is Katie's birthday today, and I can't bear it any longer. She isn't here to help me through this, to talk me out of this. I thought I could get through this with Katie, but without her, I know I can't. I haven't moved yet, and I turned down all of the job offers. I have just been sitting in our apartment watching our wedding video, Hepburn movies, and some of the home movies we made together. I decided that Ricardo should decide what to do with the furniture, and Katie's personal things. I think I can say her name today, because I know that I won't be in pain for much longer. My heart won't feel like it has been carved out of my chest, and I will be able to breathe. I took an entire bottle of pain killers Katie got when she broke her hand earlier in the year at a Judo tournament. She refused to take the pills, so they just sat in the cabinet. I downed them on an empty stomach, and to make sure I died, and didn't go into a vegetative state I mixed them with alcohol and slit my own throat. The blood is running down my neck, and things are getting a little hazy, but all I can see is Katie's beautiful face.

No POV

Remy Hadley's body was found two days later, when the landlord received complaints of the smell. Her body was dealt with according to her will, and buried next to her wife's in Boston. Some like to think that Katie and Remy were reunited in their death; others think that they will be reincarnated and given a second chance at life and love. What do you believe?

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