They travelled south, bypassing Trenton and catching the 195 East. They had lunch in Spring Lake Heights but then continued south along the coast, Kelly determined to find a deserted stretch of beach so they could experience the Atlantic together in peace.

Until he brought the car to a stop along the side of the road, they had been in excellent spirits, singing along with the oldies station on her satellite radio (whether they knew the words or not) and chatting through mouthfuls of the red licorice Kelly had bought at a gas station early that day. But when Kelly began to make her way down the slight incline to the rocky beach she could no longer block out the reason she was here. Suddenly she wished she could send House back to the car, and maybe back to Princeton, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings so she said nothing.

"Little help?" House was struggling a bit on the uneven terrain.

"Oh, sorry." She returned to his side and put a steadying arm around his waist, supporting some of his weight.

"You're awfully quiet all of a sudden." His hand curled over her shoulder and he was able to limp slowly alongside her with minimal trouble. "What's the deal with this pilgrimage anyway? You live on the ocean, don't you? This one can't be all the much different than yours."

"I started in one ocean, I want to end in the other," she said lightly, eyes forward.

"Liar."

She had to laugh. "Now I'M the open book, huh?"

"It was bound to happen."

As they neared the water, Kelly left him to stand on his own and kicked off her sandals, wading in until the surf was a few inches below the bottom of her capris.

Patience was a virtue House didn't possess in any great quantity, but he sensed the sanctity of this time and so he kept quiet, his eyes not leaving her slender frame. A minute passed, then another, and when he saw her body began to shake he didn't know what to do.

Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. With great difficulty he struggled out of his shoes and socks, and abandoning his cane as well he waded in after her, the water soaking the legs of his jeans. He stood wordlessly beside her, watching her from the corner of his eye, and waited some more.

"Let's go." The silent tears were still streaming down her face when she said the words. She pulled a wad of tissues from her pocket --- she'd obviously come prepared --- and wiped them away the best she could, blowing her nose and taking shaky breaths.

"We can stay. As long as you need."

Now her sobbing became audible and she threw herself against him, nearly knocking him off balance. "I'm really glad you're here," she managed to choke out as his arms came around her and she buried her face into his neck.

Not another word was spoken until they were back at the car, wet and sandy and subdued. "Let's find a hotel," he suggested. "We can start the drive back tomorrow."

She nodded agreeably, and they drove on to the next resort town where she finally broke her silence to book one of the most expensive rooms at the White Sands and played the seasoned traveller as she dealt with the valet and bellboy.

When they were alone, she deflated again. "You can shower first, if you'd like."

He was so used to making light of every situation that silence and obedience were all he could manage to the contrary. He dug a change of clothes out of his suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he reappeared only minutes later she was staring out the window, lost in thought. "Where's your swimsuit?"

She turned and looked at him blankly. "Huh?"

"You did book a ridiculously expensive room, so we may as well take advantage of its features. And I'm no longer your doctor, which means we can hit the hot tub together without me getting fired or you being unconscious." He found his swim trunks and looked at her expectantly. "Coming?"

A pause, and then she smiled. "Yeah. Go ahead; I'll change in here."

He was already in the tub when she arrived in the swimsuit he recognized. She moved some towels to within their reach and then accepted his hand to help her step into the water. "This was a good idea," she told him as she bypassed the closest seat and instead settled in right beside him, leaning her head back against the arm he had stretched behind her along the edge of the tub. "Thank you."

Again silence seemed the right choice, and he was soon rewarded with the truth.

"Mark and I had planned this trip," she revealed. "Ocean to ocean. We meant to do it the summer before he died, but couldn't find the time. So we decided this summer, no excuses." With no tears left it was easier to say. His arm around her made it even easier. "I felt like I needed to do this, even without him. Before I could start to let him go."

Impulsively House dropped his head and kissed her temple, affirming her, encouraging her to continue.

But there wasn't much more to say except, "I made the trip. Letting go will be more difficult." She smiled at him. "But not impossible. Not anymore."

He smiled back, and when she pressed her lips briefly against his he firmly believed that anything was possible.