So this is way overdue, but I'd like to continue this fic. I loved writing it and I loved all of your responses. Let me know if I should continue!

Insanity; such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding as prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status, or transaction or as removes one from criminal or civil responsibility.

Allison read the definition thoroughly, skimming over the dry description with weary eyes. Hair up in a pony tail, the blonde felt confounded, finding no comfort in Webster's prosaic account of her feelings. She felt insane, she felt demented, deranged, maniacal, and just fucking wacky. She'd grabbed the old textbook, buried on House's bookshelf, seeking some answer to assuage her emotions, alleviate her fears of her present and future; but the dictionary was no magic-eight ball.

What she was considering was insane, nearly asinine. Tonight, amongst a haze of alcohol and tears, she would leave Chase. She would dismantle a perfectly reasonable, happy-though-loveless, miserable-yet-content, relationship. Not that that was the issue, not that that was insane. That happened every day, to couples worldwide, people break up when they realize that they're not meant to be. That was normal. What wasn't normal, what wasn't sane, was that she would be doing this, breaking his heart and their engagement, for a woman whom Allison barely knew.

In Allison's defense, she wasn't just some woman, not just some run-of-the-mill average human of the female variety. She was amazing. Dr. Remy Hadley was beautiful, exquisite, strikingly intelligent, poised with a grace almost inhuman and softened with an enigmatic resolve that was nearly terrifying. She was like a goddess; wraithlike and mysterious. However, unlike a goddess, immortal and eternal, Remy wasn't permanent.

They hadn't spoken a word about Remy's disease, not that they did much talking at all when they were together, but Allison knew enough from House and others that the woman who had captured her, swept her away from her reality, was dying. It was a slow death, full of pain, suffering. It would be terrible for her, and terrible for anyone who would endure it along her side. Somehow, in the mix of her lust and curiousness, Allison had logged this information about the younger doctor and taken it for granted. It wasn't that she had forgotten it, but in Allison's usual way, the affliction made Remy appear even more attractive, even more dangerous. It didn't define who the woman was, but it greatly shaped her character; and her character was what excited Cameron in numerous facets.

Dr. Cameron didn't know what she could really expect out of the relationship she was establishing with Remy, but she felt somehow it was worth it. If they could be together and happy, even for a short while, it was worth leaving Chase. This relationship was worth it if they could find a little peace, if it offered something demanding value, if it was as fascinating, enjoyable, and as passionate as it alluded to being. Yes, Allison was sure, even if it was short and she lost her in the end, it would be worth it. Was that insane?

Allison had already run this circus once; she had loved and lost, married and lost. Tiny pieces of her had died when her late husband left this world; snippets of her youth, chunks of hope, a dash of faith here and there. She'd buried all these little bits of herself when the only man she'd ever really loved was lowered into the ground, tucking them tidily against his unbeating heart in the security of the black, closed casket, never to escape. And they remain there, they didn't escape, they would forever be with him. But, in the holes those fragments left, new things had grown; new hope, new faith, an appreciation of her adulthood and the inherited qualities of age. She'd regained all she had lost with her husband, was it crazy to take the chance to lose it all again? Was that worth it? Was she worth it? Her happiness, her sanity? Though she wouldn't admit it yet, she'd fallen fast for the younger girl. If she fell for her, couldn't she just as easily, just as quickly, fall for someone else? Someone who wouldn't die and leave her so early in life?

Allison balked at her pondering because she already knew the answer; yes, it was worth it, and no one else would satisfy her. She had to have Remy. Heaving a stifled sigh, Allison tossed the dictionary back to its lonely, neighborless shelf. Surrounded by dust, she quickly realized that she was like the book; full of meaning, reason, logic, and alone. The blonde rifled through her purse hastily and retrieved the book she'd been reading, a piece by Eckhart Tolle, and slid it beside the dictionary, leaning it alongside the ancient text so their binding touched.

"There," she said, tucking a piece of tissan hair behind her ear, "Alone no more."

Satisfied with herself, she smiled, but the gesture soon drizzled to a frown when she'd realized she was concerned for the wellbeing of a book. "Fuck Allison, they might as well as put a picture of you under 'insanity'." She grumbled to herself and grabbed her bag, already late for her last dinner with Chase.

A very short drive later she saw him. He was lounging candidly, quietly flirting with the older waitress who settled him with a drink, probably scotch. Alison watched silently through the window, neon green and red lights from the stoplight next to her bouncing off the panel of the little restaurant where she would be sitting. It was weird to watch him like this, like he was a specimen under a microscope, living and moving and completely unaware that he was being observed. He was such a nice man.

From his gentle good looks and his handsome accent, there was nothing really disagreeable about Robert Chase. He was intelligent, charming, caring, and he would make an excellent life partner. He could offer her a nice life, with a nice house, and nice children. But while he kicked up his Italian loafers, awaiting his fiancé, Dr. Cameron found new feelings dwelling low in her gut: fuck nice.

Nice didn't get you anywhere. It didn't make your dreams come true, didn't make you excited to fall asleep to dream about it, didn't make you long and yearn to hold its hand, didn't drive you crazy contemplating how to make it smile. Nice was just nice. And Allison was tired of it, and was tired of being the nice girl. Now, she wanted something fantastic. Something fabulous, so worthy of merit it didn't even have a name. It was an emotion that blinded her heart and soul and made everything feel white, warm, and silky. It made nice look like a paper cut in comparison to the open heart surgery that was threatening to burst from within her. With newfound inspiration and a peace that made her feel resolute, Alison Cameron opened the door and stepped inside.

"Hello, beautiful." His words were sad as she found her seat opposite him. There was a dreary look in his eyes; he had hated her distance in the past two weeks and he dreaded the words he expected to fall from her pretty little lips.

"Hi Chase." There was a pregnant pause that filled the air between them like sand. It was thick and hard to feel through. So they both sat quietly for a few minutes and listened to others around them enjoying their evening. The waitress returned to their small table and asked for their orders, breaking the sand-wall and sending the dust scattering around the room in a crazy haze in Cameron's mind. He requested pasta and another drink, and Alison settled for water.

"Not hungry, dear?"

"No, I'm not staying long." She didn't even bother to remove her coat, only clutching it tighter around her. It was Remy's jacket; she'd grabbed it out of her car to protect her from the nip of the fall air she knew would chafe her outside. The clean linen smell of laundry and soft lavender, that could only be Dr. Hadley, gave her comfort she didn't know she was seeking. Her brow furrowed and she lifted her hand, and slowly pulled off the ring that had sat on her finger for months. "I can't do this Chase. I don't want it anymore."

She placed the ring in front of him quietly, not daring to look up. She could feel his gaze burning against the top of her hand.

"Why?" It was a quite sound and was heavy with pain, causing Cameron to flick her eyes up towards Robert's.

"Because it's all wrong, Chase. I should never have said yes. I'm not in love with you. I don't want to marry someone I don't love."

He sighed and rubbed his hands together, placing them against his forehead in a silent prayer to his secret God. "Who are you in love with then?"

She was taken aback, she hadn't expected him really to question her and if he had she was planning on leaving before she had to answer him. But like all things, life rarely goes as planned.

"What?"

"You said you're not in love with me. You could have just said you're not in love. Period. The "with me" part means you're in love with somebody else. Are you having an affair? You're cheating on me?"

The waitress laid down a basket of bread with a happy smile and offered Cameron a second to organize her thoughts. "I'm not cheating on you Chase, because I'm no longer in a relationship with you."

"So you were cheating on me." He shook his head in disbelief. "Well aren't you going to apologize?"

"No." Cameron stood and grabbed her purse. "I'm not sorry. Good-bye Chase, I'll see you at work."

"Fuck you." He muffled into his hands, gripping his face and holding back unforced tears.

Allison turned and reached for door, liberation and freedom carrying her back to her car. She was proud and surprised at her strength. That wasn't so bad. That was easy.