As their special day arrived, friends and family helped with the decorations; transforming Cuddy's home into a picturesque wedding scene. White balloons and streamers attempted to beautify the front yard, but their effect was somewhat diminished by the mismatched lawn chairs the guests had brought.

"Now look, I don't want you to object," Cuddy was telling her mother. "Because I'm going to marry him no matter what you think, and I want you to see it."

"Well, at least do me one favor."

Cuddy brushed her curls out of her eyes and waited in well-disguised worry.

"You call that racist, egotistical, no-good son-in-law of mine by his first name."

Cuddy smiled in relief and nodded.

"Where is Greg, anyway?" Julia asked, looking around the yard.

"I don't know. But he'll be here..." Cuddy paused at the sound of a motorbike. "Soon," she said, and laughed softly. As loud music met their ears, blasting over the roar of the bike, they turned to watch the motorcyclist arrive, skirting wildly into the driveway. All eyes were on the slender, feminine figure as she kicked down her stand, with a boot that had spikes on the back and a zipper on the side.

"Who's that?" Julia asked.

"That...is Rebecca. She's going to be my niece."

The biker stood up, revealing her impressive height. She took off her helmet, allowing the thick mane of straight, dark hair to fall nearly to her knees. She hung her helmet on the handlebars and hung her keys around her neck before stepping up onto the property.

"You told her where you live?" Chase demanded.

"No."

His eyes shot back to Rebecca, who stopped in front of him; looking at him with House's eyes. He couldn't help moving backwards as she reached into her pocket, and seeing nervous reactions all around her, she moved more slowly, pulling out an envelope. She waited for him to take it, then turned around and walked to the seats.

"What do you think it is?" Cameron asked quietly.

"I don't know. A voodoo doll?" he asked, and tore it open. He examined the paper in interest. "It's a cheque. A big one."

"You're not a male prostitute, are you?" Cuddy's mom asked.

"No! I..." Chase looked back at the cheque. "Must be for the damages."

Cuddy sighed, looking at her future relative. "Long as that money isn't our 'something borrowed.'"

He went to where Rebecca was sitting and joined her. "Thank you. For paying up."

She appeared to ignore him, gazing through Cuddy's window. His eyes followed hers.

"You're not planning anything, are you?" he asked. "Because, I mean, your father went to therapy, and it seemed to help a bit."

"Different people, different therapy." She barely spared him a glance. "I'd have gone over to his address, but it was yours he gave me."

Chase stared at her, waiting until she finally turned her head. "He didn't know you were alive."

As he observed the dark response in her expressive eyes, a truck came to a noisy stop at the sidewalk. Taub got out with Park, and then another young girl. Rebecca snorted, seeing a third feminine shadow in the vehicle. "He must be rich. Or something," she added suggestively. Her smile died when the third girl jumped out of the truck. Their eyes locked.

Taub watched as Rebecca eyed his daughter; and Chase flinched as Rebecca lunged out of the seat, nearly making it topple.

"Rebecca?" Sophie asked. "Rebecca Warner?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked. "You're not related!"

"How do you know each other?" Taub asked nervously.

Sophie sighed and looked at him. "Rebecca was my college roommate."

His expression relaxed as Rebecca clasped Sophie's arm, in a nearly friendly manner. "Seriously," Rebecca said, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was bored, I like travelling, I'm Rachel's friend..." Sophie shrugged.

Rebecca nodded. Her smile didn't diminish the inherent look of evil on her face. "Cool," she said succinctly, and thumped Sophie on the arm as she walked by.

House stood in front of the mirror, obsessively checking his tie. He was getting better at it. His friends had forgiven him and they were here. And most importantly, he was getting married. To Cuddy.

Why the hell did he feel so rotten? He dropped his hands, narrowing his eyes at his own face. Too bad telling himself to be happy wouldn't be enough. His eyes moved to the reflection of the Vicodin, sitting on the dresser behind him; and it didn't take him long to give in. He popped the pills and sat on the bed, rubbing his leg; and realized he was making a face. He quickly schooled his expression.

Now was not the time. Speaking of which...He looked up at the clock. "Shit," he muttered, and heaved himself off the bed. He limped to the door and began the brutal decline down the stairs. Forms of well-dressed people passed in front of the downstairs windows, and the buffet table was already laden with food the guests had made and brought along. Their aromas filled the home. Bread, chicken, fruit, fruit salad, fruit punch...He stole a berry on his way to the door; and pushing it open he stopped in the doorway, looking at the guests. They looked back at him.

The bride sighed in relief and Chase smiled at the guests. "Shall we begin?"