A quick one-shot I put together for Fox's Friday Night Challenge. This month's prompt: An Affair To Remember. This is a slightly different take on that prompt. As always, I don't own House.

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I'm standing here bewildered...I can't remember just what I've done...

You're stunned as the officer reads you your rights and snaps the cuffs around your wrists. For once, you use the right to remain silent. You don't know how something so good could turn so horribly wrong.

In the interrogation room, the detectives are asking you questions. You had gone out with a friend that night after work, you tell him. You had stayed out a little longer than you'd planned. Yes, you knew it would end in a shouting match between the two of you. No, that wasn't unusual. The two of you always fought as hard as you loved. But you always made up, always, sometimes in passionate fashion.

No, you don't remember who grabbed the gun first. You didn't even know she owned one, since it sure as hell wasn't yours. Yes, you're sure. One minute you were screaming at each other, the next thing you knew there was a loud bang and blood everywhere.

You glance down at your shirt, still shocked to see it covered in blood. Her blood. You're shaking again, fighting the rising tide of emotion. You loved her, you want to tell the detectives. You never would have hurt her intentionally, not like this.

The next few months are a blur. Your lawyer talks about plea bargains, the possibility of a reduced sentence. On what grounds, you have no idea. You're not even sure you deserve any form of leniency. It doesn't make her any less dead.

Your friend and a few of your former team members are present for your sentencing. You can't even look them in the eye, imagining what they must be thinking right now.

Your sentence is announced and the judge asks you if you have anything you'd like to say. You shake your head, knowing that words mean nothing, that her family won't find any comfort in anything that would come out of your mouth. They always told her you were trouble, that one day you would break her heart beyond repair. You're sure they never foresaw anything like this. You know that you didn't.

You're led to your cell again, and soon you're transferred to what will become your permanent home. No, you weren't given a life sentence, but it's long enough that your life as you knew it is essentially over. You behave accordingly, your mouth getting you into trouble on more than one occasion with both fellow inmates and authorities.

You don't believe in anything resembling an afterlife, but you think that anything has to be better than the hell you're enduring. It's taken some careful planning on your part, as your cellmate is a nosy pain in the ass, as well as a blabbermouth. Life without her, and life in this place have worn you down to nothing. It's better for everyone to simply end it now.

Someone will find you in the morning, you're sure, but it won't matter. You'll be free of this life, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find her again wherever you end up. You can't help laughing at yourself a little for the sentimental thought. Then again, she always managed to bring that out in you. It's the last thought you have as your eyes close and you disappear into oblivion.

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