The invitation sat, lonely on House's desk. It was simple and traditional enough- a white textured card with gold embellishments. The font was a surreal kind of script that read the standard: You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Robert Chase & Allison Cameron.

The details littered the bottom of the card.

Cameron entered his office, slightly bashful.

"He really wants to seal the deal before you decide to leave him again," House observed.

Cameron frowned.

"We were engaged before we broke up, so we figured we might as well do it when we have a chance."

She approached his desk, "I'm not changing my mind. I've made my decision, and I love Robert."

"Whatever," House replied, shrugging. "At least you can justify it when he gets you knocked up soon."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I though that with your new girlfriend, you would at least have an ounce of compassion for this kind of thing."

"New girlfriend? Is this something I should know about?"

"Remy Hadley."

"Who's that?"

"House, don't be juvenile."

"She's not my girlfriend," He muttered, folding his invitation into a paper airplane.

"You haven't asked her out? You haven't even established a relationship? What the hell are you doing?" Cameron chided, crossing her arms.

"She's not you. She doesn't try to label our…situation."

"Is it just about sex?" Cameron smirked, lowering her voice.

"Everything's about sex with you, Cameron!" He yelled, loud enough so that his team in the conference room turned to stare through the glass divider.

"Well, regardless, everyone saw what you did last night."

"You mean confess my love for Chase then maul him to the ground? Oh wait…you did that."

Cameron flushed slightly but continued. "You stood up for her. You almost killed Taub in the process too. So, you obviously really like her. Or you love her."

"Why are you tormenting me? Don't you have a wedding to plan or a fiancé to screw?"

Cameron grinned and began walking toward the conference room.

"It's all gonna come out sooner or later. You can't keep your feelings hidden forever."

House followed her in the adjoining room and advanced on the white board.

"Symptoms." He declared loudly.

Wilson, Chase, Cameron, Thirteen, Kutner, and a Taub (with his neck wrapped) turned to watch House.

"Rash decision-making, increasing annoyingness, assumed ability to dictate and understand people's lives," House read them off as he wrote them down.

"Diagnosis? Whipped…" He circled the word, "Or utterly desperate."

The occupants of the room stared at him. "Patient: Allison Cameron," He stated.

Cameron glared at him before turning to everyone else.

"Did everyone get an invitation to the wedding?"

They each nodded and murmured their thanks.

Cameron explained the plans while House's mind wandered. He watched Remy frown at the invitation, a look of dismay on her face.

Love seemed like a distant cry. House was pretty sure Remy was serious about him, but it was always hard to decipher. He could barely even get her to open up to him, so he couldn't just do something as irrational as telling her he loved her.

He remembered only saying it to Stacy. She had kept pestering him about it: Do you love me? I need to know.

After a while he gave in: Yeah, I love you.

He didn't find the phrase particularly necessary- if a relationship was going well, why was there such a need to qualify everything? It didn't really make sense to him.

Remy glanced up and caught House staring at her. She didn't look away and neither did he. Her eyes seemed to dance before him.

"Well, I'm going to eat some lunch," House interrupted Cameron's speech, heading for the door.

"You just got to work!" She growled in irritation.

"Even better."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House heard the door of his apartment click and open. He turned his head from his position on the couch to see Remy standing at the door. She looked exhausted.

"Hey," He greeted as she went approached the couch.

"We were testing in the lab all night until something finally came up positive."

He acknowledged the clock- it was almost 1 in the morning.

Remy sat beside him without a moment's hesitation and swung her legs over his lap. She angled her body against him and closed her eyes. She felt his body stiffen for a second before he held her.

It was weird- Remy always expected that every next time they were physical, he would throw her off of him. But they always seemed to have a wordless communication that fit well. Neither was one for speeches and gushing confessions, so they could simply tell each other all they needed with a look or expression. It prevented House from sarcasm or anything potentially hurtful while it prevented Remy from hiding or covering up. It was hard for her eyes to lie to him anymore.

"Planning on attending the wedding of the century?" House asked her.

"Why would I give up the opportunity to watch something crash and burn?" She smiled against his chest.

"Are we going together? Because I don't have a car and I might get shot if I ride around with my motorcycle in a tux… not to mention the helmet hair…"

Remy was silent. She could feel the implications of his inquiry, and it wasn't just a question of getting a ride. It was more.

"Yeah…together," She answered assuredly.