*I've got some people in the Cave that want an update, right?

I can't believe how good the turnout had been for this story! The power of Huddy is obviously strong in this dimension, no other section I've ever written is this devoted to it's shippings.

This chapter is about the French revolution. We may see more Emily, we may not. But either way, of the facts we know, here we go!

Reviews are good, you know, if you want your ideas heard :)*

Say La Vie

Cuddy watched him as they strolled down the streets of London. How was he surviving this, usually his leg would've been killing him. But he was limping along happily, talking nonsense about cannibalism. Why was he so fascinated with them? Or with the Roman Empire, the bubonic plague?

"Lisa." He smiled as they came to the pier. Beside him was a boat, and in his hand was two paper tickets. "Paris with me?"

She smiled at him, then added half-heartedly. "I'm sure Emily is getting lonely."

House chuckled at this. "Oh come on, Emily has lots of fun toys to play with." He stopped with a wickedly coy smile. "Yes or do I have to force you."

"We've been gone a week. I'm sure Emily has noticed are absence." Cuddy scoffed. "After all, children are smarter than dogs."

"I wasn't implying Emily as a dog." House snickered at her defense over their fictional child. "I was implying she was a hospital. She's got TONS of toys and they're mostly within herself." She laughed quite loudly at the remark. "With personification I have made you believe Emily is a human."

"You and Wilson gave her that damn name, so it IS your fault." She wrapped her hands around the bag straps.

"You don't always have to listen to me." He smiled. "But we are going to Paris. Tomorrow we take the Chunnel."

...

It was 1798, the spring. It had already been a brutal nine years of what they called the biggest event in history. Many called it a revolution. And many would try to prove them wrong. That's why it was as bloody as any war.

House sat in his home, his wife tending to the shot wound on his chest. "You're going to be okay." His wife reminded him, her voice swaying against the floor like a black curtain. "You're always going to be okay."

"Lisa..." He mouthed distantly as she ran her hand along his cheek.

"I'm right here, Greg, I'm always right here."

Emily sat on her stool, watching her parents. She was now thirteen years of age, her dark curly hair tied up much like her mother's at the moment. She had on a dark green dress, her fiery spirit contradicting the color. "Momma, what about the revolt?"

Cuddy bit her lip. "Daddy's out of the revolt."

"What about our family? Momma, the others will turn against us."

"We'll survive." Cuddy stated.

"I'll take daddy's place in the revolt." Emily announced. "I'll go and show up, shoot a few people dead."

"Honey, don't." He muttered. "Em..."

"Daddy, it's a new world." She gulped. "Everything is changing. Why stop it?"

...

Cuddy stood in line with him for the Chunnel. "Why Paris." She asked.

"Most romantic city in the world." He mused.

"The truth House." She eyed him suspiciously.

"The real truth?"

"Yes."

"No matter how crazy?"

"The more cockamamie the better." She raised an eyebrow, wondering what would fall from his lips.

"I'm remembering me... from a previous life." He gulped. "I was a doctor in the nineteenth century, I cured the plague, I spoke to an australopithecus. Emily saved me from getting shot again in the French revolution..."

"Are you out of your mind?" She asked with a chuckle.

He didn't even smile.

"See things how I do, Lisa, you'll see so much more than any history major could ever dare to dream." He smiled wickedly.

"...Okay."