Disclaimer: House isn't mine. Just on loan for a bit. David Shore on the other hand is one lucky man! He own the whole shootin' match!

Hope you enjoy a little father-son time!

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 10

House came home from PPTH that night in less than a good mood. Another responsibility was the last thing the doctor needed. It didn't matter, though; he wasn't going to do it! To add insult to injury, he had found out later in the day that until it was his turn to take on the intern that, thanks to his cheery disposition, he would get to spend his time in the clinic. It was a small price to pay in order to avoid working with some snot nosed, wet behind the ears, know-it-all brat.

Greg sensed House's mood as he came through the door and decided that it would be a good night to follow his own interests. The power of House's mood was terribly intimidating and he hadn't said a word. House tossed his backpack onto the floor, just inside the door, went to sit at the piano and began to play Ride of the Valkyries, a fast and furious piece that spoke volumes about his mood to those who were musically inclined. Greg understood. He went to the fridge, got a beer, opened it, and placed it on a coaster on the piano within House's reach. House drank a quarter of it without missing a beat, then finished the piece and began it again. Greg wasn't all that fond of the piece and wasn't going to hear it repeatedly. He had his limits.

As House continued to play, Greg decided to take matters in hand. He sat down next to his dad on the bench and started playing Turkey in the Straw. The really cool thing about music is if you know enough about it, you can mix and match melodies to make seemingly unrelated pieces fit together. Since he was raised in a musical family who enjoyed the music of PDQ Bach, Greg was able to do this trick with skill. A smile played around House's lips, but he wasn't ready to let go of his bad mood just yet.

"Apparently, you haven't been to the House School of Leave me the Hell Alone," he growled

"Apparently, you haven't been to the Dubois School of Get Over Yourself!"

"I'm the dad. My school can beat your school any day."

"Could be, but at least my school won't act like spoiled brats if they get beat!"

Greg fumbled a note and they both laughed. House started playing "Turkey is the Straw" and Greg switched to "Summertime" by George Gershwin. House switched to Raindrops on Roses and after a time Greg started playing Phantom of the Opera.

"Cool!" was House's response. "You have skills, boy!"

"I'm alright at this but you should have heard my mom and grandpa go at it!" Greg fumbled another note and stopped playing. "I can't talk and play worth a darn, either."

"Remind me not to offer you a piece of gum while we're taking a walk."

Greg laughed heartily and relaxed knowing the storm had passed. "Wanna take me out for dinner, tonight? I'm sick of this place."

House thought long and hard about where he could go with little risk of being seen but everything seemed too risky.

"Is it the need to get out or are you tired of eating more of the same?" asked House, hoping for the latter.

"Both. You're the only one I ever see, really. I'm getting to know people around town, the guys at the bike shop and the music store, but they are never going to be friends. At the music store, the guys either work there or they're loser wannabes that can only talk about who wronged them and make lame excuses for why they never made it big. They all wonder why I'm not in school."

"So what do you tell them?"

"The truth. I'm done with high school and I've just moved to town and the semester had already started at the colleges when I arrived. They don't question it. I'm going to ask if I can teach guitar and piano there. I can't charge what I'm worth but I can make some pocket change." said the boy pensively.

"You can't charge what you're worth?"

"Yeah, if I had my degree, I could charge from twenty-five dollars on up. Right now I can only charge ten. Bummer."

"You haven't enough money?"

"No, I haven't enough to do! I'm bored, Dad, all the time!"

House nodded silently. Fine, you're right. Let's get you out of here." House stood to go to his room and change clothes into comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. Someday, father and son would look remarkably alike. Now, the family resemblance was harder to see, but not impossible.

House and Greg went to a town an hour away from Princeton. It was only then that House could enjoy being with his son without being found out. They ate at Joe's Crab Shack and they both agreed that what they could get in New Orleans would be better. At dinner that night, Greg heard his dad's side of the story of his conception. He saw a gentleness in House that the people of Princeton-Plainsbough Teaching Hospital never saw. House was animated and effusive when he spoke of Renee and her abilities. He spoke with love and admiration, and a respect that Greg didn't think his father possessed for anyone. By the end of the conversation, love for a mother and love for a friend had been rekindled, and both men left the restaurant with full hearts as well as full stomachs.

After dinner, House and Greg saw a movie. House commented that it was worth the trip to that theater, just for the popcorn. Despite the fact that they had just eaten, they each had a large drink, a large bucket of popcorn, and candy. It was after 1:00a.m., when the movie let out and House received glares from passersby because he and the boy were out so late on a school night. Greg overheard House grumbling that it was none of their damn business how late he kept his boy out!

As they approached Princeton, a cloud of gloom, once again descended over House. Greg decided that he would ask what the trouble was, but before he could, House exposed the problem on his own.

"Cuddy wants to take on a new intern. The first few weeks,
Wilson has him and then my team gets him. I'm supposed to be working in the clinic while the kid's there. She and Wilson seem to think that my cheery disposition will frighten him off."

"Would it?"

"Probably."

"Seriously, Dad, how bad can clinic be? It's a walk-in clinic, right? You see each patient for not more than about ten minutes, and then they're gone."

"They're idiots! They can't even tell me their symptoms correctly half the time. One lady came in with breathing troubles once. I asked her to show me how she used her inhaler and she sprayed it in her neck like perfume! I lost money on that one, but she really needed to be told what and idiot she was."

"You lost money on it?"

"Yeah, sometimes Cuddy pays me extra to be nice. She's even paid me for diagnosing people without touching them!"

"Sounds like fun, to me!"

"It would be if they weren't all so boring. I get tired of swabbing throats and crotches. That isn't my thing."

"What is your thing?"

"You know… diagnostics. I get the worst of the worst; what everyone else has given up on. That's my thing. I prove that the impossible cases aren't impossible. I cure the incurable. I AM A GOD!" thundered House. As House wound himself up, he had also driven faster. Flashing lights and a siren had accompanied his final words.

"I'm convinced, now all you have to do is convince the cop," quipped Greg.