Dear Readers...back from Yosemite with banged up feet...too many hikes! Remember, House and Kenna have just reunited after over a decade and she's settling in at PPTH. House and Kenna sparred a little and now we take up with them again. I'll post another chapter today after I know you've caught up through the reviews. Thanks so much for reading and enjoy!

Chapter 20

Through the Years

Wilson joined House at the elevator. "You popped Kenna Palmer's cherry? Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, oops, my bad." House feigned a look of innocence. They walked out of the elevator and down the hall making a right into House's office where he met up with the rest of the diagnostic team. House looked at the handsome young African-American and said, "Foreman, you're a neurologist, why weren't you down there with the welcoming committee kissing some Palmer ass? And I'd like to say for the record, it's one sweet ass."

House's team consisted of Eric Foreman, neurologist; Robert Chase, Intensivist; Remy Hadley and Chris Taub, plastic surgeon. Foreman was known for being ambitious, but lately he had also begun to show a real warm side to his patients. Chase had also come a long way. At first he worried about what everyone thought about him and whether or not he would keep his job, but his confidence grew and now, with the exception of House, Chase's diagnostic abilities had exceeded those of the rest.

Foreman's eyes grew wider, "Kenna Palmer? Kenna Palmer is here at the hospital?"

Wilson nodded his head and said, "Not only is she here, but she works here now."

Everyone could see how excited Foreman was. Chase, an Australian, wasn't as familiar with Kenna Palmer as everyone else. He looked around and asked, "Why is everyone excited about this Kenna Palmer coming to work here?"

Foreman shook his head and rolled his eyes, "It means that this hospital will be known as having the foremost Neurology Department in the world. Kenna Palmer is the best in the field." Foreman turned around and looked at House, "Is she up in the Neurology Department right now?"

"If you grovel, I can get you an audience with the Queen." House said.

"Do you know her?" Foreman asked.

Wilson closed his eyes waiting for House to tell everyone.

"Let's just say, I parked the pink Plymouth in Kenna's garage of love; put the old thumb drive in the USB port; I fixed her plumbing; laid some pipe; treated her to some in and out; we..."

Remy threw her hands into the air. "We get the picture."

Foreman smiled at House in disbelief, "You had sex with Kenna Palmer?"

House put a finger in his mouth, flicked it making a popping sound. "I popped her cherry. And I might add, there were many nights when we held prayer meetings and gave thanks to God, 'Oh God, Jesus Christ, oh God I'm coming!"

Remy frowned, "You're disgusting."

Forman looked at all of them. "This changes everything; I was trying to figure out what my next career move should be after this job. It looks like I'm going to stay put; this is going to be where the action is, at least for a neurologist."

House gave him a silly look and said in a high-pitched voice, "I just don't get it; she poops just like everybody else. I would know; I lived with her."

Once again everyone's eyes grew big. Wilson was in shock, "When did you live with Kenna Palmer?"

"When we were at Johns Hopkins, I was doing my residency in infectious diseases and she was getting her doctorate in Neuroengineering. She was my tenant. She didn't have much money so we came up with a way for her to pay the rent if you get my drift." House wiggled his eyebrows.

Wilson's mouth was still open. "Did you love her?"

House looked at all of them, and started singing in his best Tina Turner voice, "What's love got to do with it, got to do with it? What's love but a secondhand emotion?" He got up and left the office still singing, "What's love got to do with it, got to do with it..." House got on the elevator and hit the button that said 4. As he was riding the elevator, he couldn't help but think that things were going to get interesting around Princeton Plainsboro.

XOXOXOXO

When I walked through the front doors and saw the backside of her, I knew that ass like the back of my hand. It had filled out a little. It was rounder, giving her a more fertile Goddess look, but the basic shape was the same. Her gorgeous legs hadn't changed a bit. And her hair had simply grown longer and was slightly blonder than before. When she turned around I was embarrassed. I could see from the fleeting look on her face that my appearance shocked her. The pain from my leg, the Vicodin abuse, all the emotional crap that went with it and my break-up with Cuddy have taken a toll on me since we drifted apart.

Kenna hadn't changed much; she simply looked more like a woman. By the looks of it, she had done well without me. She looked healthy and happy. I was happy too-my life had just gone from as dull as Foreman's love life to as interesting as an epidemic of Ebola Niger. I had someone to mess with now. Why I told everyone that I took her virginity, I'm not sure. I suspect it was my way of peeing on the hydrant. Even if I couldn't have her I didn't want anyone else having her either. Whether she was single, married or living with someone was something I needed to explore. I didn't see a ring on her ring finger so that probably ruled out marriage. Wandering down the hall towards the Neurology Department, I saw a lot of boxes marked "Palmer" inside and outside one of the offices so I headed that way.

She laughed and immediately my whole body reacted. I remembered that laugh and its effect on me well. We used to laugh a lot in Baltimore, but we were young and life hadn't taken away the use of my leg, Stacy, my sanity or Lisa. I stood in the doorway admiring the view when her assistant saw me out of the corner of her eye. Kenna looked up to see who was there and smiled at me.

"Sara, can you give us a moment? And could you close the door when you leave?" She pointed to a chair for me to sit down.

Planting myself in the chair, I looked around the office. "So, just can't stay away from me? That's a long time to hold a flame for someone. Still, I can understand. After all, I did give you a vaginal orgasm. Did you come back for that?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "Oh Greg, you've gotten feistier and, from what I hear, meaner. You and I need to find a way to keep the past in the past."

"I don't see why, it wasn't that bad. In fact, most the time it was damn good. Did you miss me when I went up to Boston?"

I could see she didn't want to talk about it. "I moved on. I understand that you're living with someone. I'm happy for you."

I gave her a look as if she had just stepped into the Twilight Zone. I asked, "When did you hear that? 10 years ago? You know we've gone through Y2K, 9/11 and Osama Bin Laden's death since then."

She realized that she had put her foot in her mouth, "I saw Doug at a conference in Hong Kong about ten years ago and he told me about her."

"Well, since that conference, I've lost a huge chunk of my thigh muscle in my right leg, become addicted to Vicodin and live with pain every day. That girlfriend left me about six months after the leg debacle. Really wasn't her fault, I pushed her out. Since then I was the indentured love slave of Lisa Cuddy, but that ended last year."

I could see that I had just made her feel like crap. I was good at that. She started pulling things out of boxes to keep occupied. When she did speak, her voice was hesitant, "I... I, oh Greg I'm really sorry. I'm obviously way behind the times. How long have you been at Princeton Plainsboro?"

"Over a decade now. Lisa Cuddy brought me down here when Mass General asked me to leave."

She started to smile when I told her I'd been asked to leave.

I smiled sheepishly. "What? I got into an argument with the Dean of Medicine over his veracity and the size of his penis."

She continued to giggle. For a few seconds she was able to keep it under control but then she just broke out laughing. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh, but you always screw up and you always land on your feet. I've got to admire you for that. After I get unpacked and settled at the hospital, maybe we could have lunch sometime? I'd like to hear about your surgery and the pain you're experiencing."

"Oh that's always good for a laugh. I have to admit that I've gotten really good with my cane. I can twirl it, use it as a tool, hit people with it, and generate sympathy when I need it. I even get one of those little blue placards that lets me park in one of those special spaces."

She looked at me and shook her head, "Don't look to me for sympathy. Knowing you, you probably revel in your pain. It probably defines who you are now."

I was so sick of people trying to psychoanalyze me that I started yelling at her, "It fucking hurts. Every single day of the year, every single hour of the day, every single minute of the hour, it hurts. I go to bed with it, I wake up with it. Some days I just want it over with. Yeah, it pretty much defines who I am now." I got up and started to walk out the door, "I never wanted your sympathy. I just came up to see how you were doing."