Ok, here is the epilogue. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying!!

EPILOGUE

"House…" A gentle female voice repeated. "House? House?"

Suddenly the voice became clearer. House felt his body being shook. 'And what's with the shaking? Is it an earthquake?' House thought, the fog that had enveloped him lifting. 'Am I going to hell…or heaven? Maybe there IS life after death. I'm so screwed…' House began to panic, wondering in which direction he was going…

then the shaking intensified…the fog gradually lightened…

he heard voices…

And when the fog finally dissipated, he found himself lying on a clinic examination bed with drool on his chin and Chase, Cameron, Foreman and Wilson surrounding him, eyeing him strangely.

House looked around again, rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Is this Heaven?"

"Noooo…" Wilson wrinkled his forehead in a very 'How much Vicodin did you take?' expression. "It's Jersey."

He still eyed them when he noticed his stomach didn't hurt. At all. And he wasn't hooked to any machines. And where is my wife? "Anne?" He turned around completely but, not seeing anyone but his work colleagues, he gave Wilson a completely blank look. "Wilson? Am I dying?"

"Nooo…" Wilson repeated once again. "Are you ok? And who's Anne?"

House rolled his eyes. "Don't be coy with me: you know, Anne, your cousin and my wife."

"House, you aren't dying; I don't have a cousin Anne; and you don't have a wife."

Cameron interrupted. "How much Vicodin have you been taking?" Concern spread over her face. "House, you've been dreaming."

Sincere shock fluttered across his face that quickly evaporated, being replaced by a smirk. "But it wasn't a dream. It was real. And you" he pointed to Cameron…"and you"…Chase…"and you"…Foreman…"...and YOU"…Wilson…"were there." He smirked even wider. "But you couldn't have been, could you?"

This elicited groans. "Of course not, Dorothy; you're still in Kansas. You were actually hit in the head by a flying monkey and fell into a nice, deep sleep." Chase rolled his eyes as House scowled.

"Then why are you here? Shouldn't you be working?" The children looked at each other dumbly. "Shoo! Go! Make Daddy proud!" They scampered out, leaving Wilson with House. He handed House a patient folder.

"You do have a patient: Vincent in Exam Room 2. He's got a swollen tongue and a temperature of 103°. Go see him."

House raised his eyebrow at his friend's orders then looked at Wilson's chest. "Since when have you grown Cuddy-bags?" House opened the file and read the chart. Tilting his head, he grinned with glee. "Interesting but oh so much fun. I'm gonna make him answer all types of questions, like: What's your favorite color? I bet he says "bwue". Awesome."

Wilson rolled his eyes, glad to see House awake and his snarky self but still wondering why House was dreaming about having a wife…more specifically, why the wife wasn't named Stacy and why this wife was his cousin.

Wilson headed out the examination room door but House stopped him. Judging from the look on House's face, he was about to say something very serious so Wilson stopped to find out. "What is it? Is it the dream?"

House nodded. "Jimmy, I gotta tell you about this dream I had." And House gave Wilson a summarized version of everything in his dream. When he was done Wilson's face bore a "HUH?" expression. "House, are you sure you're ok? Have you been shot in the head? Or kicked by a mule?"

House rolled his eyes. "Of course not. But what do you think it could mean?"

"How should I know? Do I look like a shrink?" Wilson stopped talking and thought for a moment. "But word on the street is there's a new hospital psychiatrist starting soon; seems that no matter how many you drive away more just keep showing up."

"Yeah, like maggots to dead bodies." House sighed. "What do I do?"

"Well, Dr. House," Wilson began in a very scholarly fashion. "Perhaps your subconscious is telling you to take a road trip. Maybe it's telling you to lay off the Vicodin or to make peace with your parents." Wilson pushed House to the door. "Or perhaps it's telling you to go see your patient."

House rolled his eyes as they both stepped out the door. "Wilson, are you sure you don't want to watch me interrogate him? It should be a gasser." Wilson shook his head and started to walk away when he felt House tug on his coat, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Wilson turned to see what House wanted…and saw a look he'd never seen on House before: horrifyingly stunned confusion…with perhaps a bit of déjà vu thrown in there. "That's not possible…"

"What's not possible? House? You look like you've just seen Angelina Jolie in person."

House didn't do anything except point his cane across the clinic lobby…

Standing just inside the clinic door, leaning her well-endowed frame against it while talking with Cuddy…

was HER.

It was Anne.

Blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes, almost as if that would be the difference between the image being real or being an apparition. House studied her…

The woman had the same thick, luscious auburn hair that shone in the faint fluorescent lighting; the same creamy, curvy skin that his dream hands had followed. Why's it suddenly so hot in here? House asked himself. But the one thing that struck him the most was what she was wearing. She was wearing…IT…that short little white cotton sundress, the same one his…dream…him…fantasized about. And the real "Anne" was just as good as the dream "Anne". He studied her breasts and his hands tingled with the desire to tease them into submission.

Too bad the dress wasn't wet. He didn't know what was going on or what this all meant; but his next cognizant thought was: 'Dear Lord, I don't ask for, well, anything, but…please set off the sprinklers. I even said please.'

Nothing happened.

'Thanks.'

Wilson passed a concerned look between House and the woman; House was staring at her, almost as if he knew her. "House? Are you ok?"

House leaned toward Wilson, grabbed his coat lapel and pointed to the woman he'd never lost sight of. "Do you see that?" Unfortunately, House wasn't subtle; House was NEVER subtle.

Wilson looked around for a "that" instead of a "her" or "him" or "them". "What are we looking for?"

House continued pointing to the woman who, by now, had seen the commotion and was looking at House as if he were nuts. "Her!! That chick talking with Cuddy!"

Wilson nodded as he watched both Cuddy and the beautiful auburn woman watching them. "Yes House…haven't you ever seen a beautiful woman before??"

"Wilson, I've never seen that woman before but, I swear, she was Anne, in my dream. But that's not possible; I can't dream about someone I've never met before." He was still watching her as both women made her way across the room, coming to a stop in front of the boys.

"Dr. House?" Cuddy asked in a very formal tone. After all, she did have a guest with her. House wasn't paying attention; he was still staring at the woman. "House?" Nothing…and this was making the woman squirm. "HOUSE!!!!" Cuddy screamed. This caught everyone's attention. House finally looked at Cuddy.

"You rang, milady?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Ok, that's it: no more shiny objects for you."

The woman turned away to cough behind her hand in an attempt to cover her laughter. House immediately pounced on this. "Did you find that funny?"

The woman finally cleared her throat and turned fully to him. "Yes I did." House's eyes widened: it was the same voice! 'Have my dreams finally come true, after all that wishing on stars??' Normally that would've been a sarcastic thought but the day was rapidly shaping up to become really, really weird…he was ready to believe just about anything.

"Dr. Gregory House, Dr. James Wilson," Cuddy pointed to each man, "This is Dr. Amy Daniels. She's the new hospital psychiatrist. She starts tomorrow."

House grinned but that grinned dropped when Wilson smiled his dimply smile. Wilson extended his hand. "A pleasure. Don't mind my friend: we don't let him out of the sleep lab very often so, seeing a beautiful woman like you, he goes all primitive." He turned to House, who was still staring. "Say hello House."

"Hello House," House immediately parroted back, still staring at her, now with an inquisitively searching look. "What do you drive?"

Dr. Daniels didn't quite know where this was going but was honest anyway. "An Acura."

House silently sighed with relief. Ok, he thought, giving her body another once over, thoroughly enjoying what he saw. He was still baffled that she seemed to have stepped right from his dream and into this clinic today. That's not so bad. How much fun are chicks that drive Acuras anyway? Wait a minute…they could be lots of fun. Uh-oh…

But the woman wasn't finished talking. "…but I ride a Harley over the weekend. I love motorcycles."

House's heart beat a bit faster; his breath came out a bit quicker. 'Ok, NOW I'm screwed.'

Covering his sudden state of, well, PANIC, House grinned. "You know, Doc, I just had this dream I need to talk to someone about. Can you help?"

Dr. Daniels grinned and pondered the man in front of her. Dr. Cuddy had warned her about him but what she said didn't match the man standing right there. 'She said he would be the boil on the butt of society. Why does he suddenly want therapy? Intriguing.' "Sure. I'd love to know what's rattling around in that head of yours." With a little wink she turned on her heel and followed Cuddy out of the clinic. House took a moment to study her walkaway…just as he remembered. 'But how is that even possible?'

"House! Vincent? Exam Room 2? Go see him." Wilson smirked and followed them out the clinic.

"Thanks Mom!" he shouted. Turning toward Exam Room 2, he couldn't get his mind off her. What happened back there? What's going on??

Well, hello there! Mr. Subconscious chose an interesting time to appear. Now isn't THIS quite the pickle you've got yourself into?

You and me are gonna have WORDS, right here, right now…

Oh, I'm SOO scared! What are you gonna do to me?

Forget the threats; we REALLY need to talk. NOW...

Go see your patient. We'll talk later…

"Go see your patient…Vincent…Exam Room 2…" House mocked all the voices in his head like a 3rd grader mocks a nerdy teacher, as he went to open the door. But all he saw was HER face.

When he first saw Dr. Daniels he had a feeling his life would change…but it wasn't until he saw Vincent The Tongue that this feeling changed to something more ominous. He couldn't quite place it but he knew his life was now to be changed forever.

And forever was certainly longer than…

Six months.

THE END