A/N: Sorry to break it here (insert image of House and Cuddy kissing). This is all I had time for, and I wanted to get you an update. This scene was getting a bit long anyway. Part two will be forthcoming when I can write it down.
(H/C)
"And then she said, 'Why does she lick him and grrr him, too?'" Thomas was stretched out in his favorite chair, the foot rest up, looking perfectly relaxed. He wasn't quite feeling perfectly relaxed between the distant memories of this day and even more his anticipation of the possible coming discussion, his mind gearing itself up like it used to in the Marines approaching a situation that he knew would be challenging. But he'd had a fairly good day, a great ride this morning with Ember starting to settle into the new barn more, and Jet was good company. Furthermore, the joy of talking about his new family with his best friend was still fresh out of the box.
Lewis laughed. "She really sounds like something, especially for just two and a half."
"Oh, she is. She sees everything. She doesn't talk as much as Rachel, but she's very articulate when she wants to get a point across, way ahead of most kids her age. Or when she has a question."
"So what did you tell her?"
Thomas grinned, remembering Lisa's reaction. "At first I said it was because Belle was a woman" - Lewis chuckled appreciatively - "but that got her mad because she didn't understand it. So then I explained about feeling two conflicting things at once. She accepted that, but Rachel started wondering at that point if Belle wanted a kitten of her own."
"Kids. I'll bet Rachel won't let that idea drop."
"She's such an animal lover, she'd probably like to have several, but Lisa puts her foot down pretty well when she has to. I doubt any house with Lisa in it will ever turn completely into a zoo. Also, I really think Belle wouldn't want one. She seems very independent. She felt sorry for him, but she did not like him there at all."
"Well, they can always play with Jet at your place."
"Once he's up to playing, yes. And they can always pet him. He's got a purr like a helicopter." Thomas watched Jet, who right now was sitting in the open area of the living room floor. The kitten was improving on walking in his splint, but he still was awkward. Just now, he was watching the pattern of sunlight through leaves on the living room floor. The sun was shining through Thomas' neighbor's tree at the corner of the yards at a perfect angle to form chiaroscuro on the carpet, and the shadows of the leaves shifted in the light wind. Jet had already tried swatting at them playfully with each front paw, but the right didn't have that much range of motion all strapped up, and using the left only made him fall over. He gave that up after several fails but was still staring intently, his head jerking slightly with each leaf toss. Thomas was starting to feel sorry for him, the poor kitten unable to play, when Jet flopped over onto his left side. While lying down, he extended his left front paw and stabbed at a shadow leaf. It danced away, and his tail lashed heavily. Thomas smiled watching him. Jet might not be too far from some modified playing with that mouse and jingle ball after all.
At that moment, Thomas, alert and listening for it, heard the car pull up in the driveway. They had come. He had thought they probably would. A moment later, as a car door closed, Jet growled and abandoned his patchwork sunspot. He heaved himself to his feet, and his fur stood up a little as the second door closed. He looked back at Thomas, making sure his new friend was still there.
"I've got to go, Lewis. Time for showdown at the in-law corral." He had explained already in condensed form that he might have to end the call abruptly, as he had invited the Cuddys over but wasn't sure of time. Lewis laughed and said goodbye, and Thomas lowered the foot rest and stood, taking a moment to scratch the kitten's ears. "It's all right," he assured him. "Nobody's going to hurt you." Jet was definitely associating car doors with his injury. He had reacted to a few others this morning from cars clear across the street. Thomas thought by Friday, giving them a couple more days of bonding, he would take Jet out into the garage, amply supplied with cat treats, and start gently introducing him to the BMW.
He also hoped that Jet would begin to find other things to associate with car doors. The kitten had been tucked into a corner of the kitchen this morning huddled down when Thomas returned from his ride. He had no doubt heard the car pull into the garage and Thomas get out. But he was visibly relieved as soon as he saw Thomas and came forward to greet him. Maybe in several more arrivals and departures, he would start to attach the sound of the car door with his person coming home.
Thomas went to the front door, which had a small window panel in it. The Cuddys were walking up the path slowly, inspecting the house as if they were planning on buying it themselves. He shook his head, picturing the mental price tag being filled out. Yes, these two, definitely Robert and also Susan to some extent, associated the measurement of love with a financial bottom line. No doubt, Thomas would have scored more points based on his previous house than this one, though still less than the probable value of their house, a fact that didn't bother him at all. He had no interest in point scoring, simply in clearing the air.
He opened the door, and their steps quickened as they tried to pretend they had only been walking from the car like anybody would on any occasion. An unconscious decision but an immediate and mutual one, not requiring even silent discussion. Keeping up appearances also carried a lot of weight with them.
"Hello," Thomas said, his tone perfectly friendly. "I'm glad you could make it."
"There are some things we need to get out in the open," Robert stated firmly, as if setting out the agenda for a board meeting at which he was presiding.
"I agree. And it's better to have privacy. We were only adding stress for Greg and Lisa the other night." Both of them reacted to that "we," automatic disagreement and reassignment of blame. Thomas held the door open invitingly. "Come on in and sit down. Be careful of the kitten. May I get you anything to drink?"
"No," said Susan. Robert shook his head. They were bound and determined not to make this a social occasion among equals. So be it, Thomas thought. He really couldn't blame them for being hurt and offended at the months-long secret and at how it had been revealed. The fact that they had had a lot of company in the dark wasn't any consolation at all.
Jet was still in the middle of the floor, a little stiff but not retreating, watching them. Thomas hoped this encounter wouldn't be too much for him, but it needed doing for Greg and Lisa's sake. Based on the vet's description, Jet was a little uncertain with new people but settled down quickly. He'd warmed up very well to Thomas, who had personally hurt him, something the Cuddys had not. It was only car doors that seemed to really agitate him so far. If he started to get upset, Thomas had decided to call a time out and shut him in the bedroom with an extra meal away from it all.
The Cuddys seemed at least as disturbed by Jet as he was by them. They edged around the kitten to the couch, giving him a wide berth, but they couldn't resist staring for a moment. He looked so awkward propped up on that metal loop. As soon as they had sat down, Robert squared his shoulders and began. This meeting is now in session, Thomas thought.
"We were talking to Lisa some more after the girls were in bed last night. She was telling us a few things. You've really done a sales job on her."
"Don't underestimate her," Thomas advised. "Lisa has a good head on her shoulders and a well-honed radar for people based on a lot of experience. Think of all the hundreds who have been in her office over the years. Annoyed patients, pure troublemakers, people who just want some attention to soothe their ruffled feathers, people who want to donate for ulterior motives, people who genuinely want to do good with nothing else to it. I'm sure she's seen all types by now. She can recognize them. She's good at that job."
"Yes, she is." Pride showed in Robert's face and voice for a moment. "But this is different. This is personal."
"Yes, but all that experience would still have some relevance." And who is it after all who gave her the example that your personal life should be run like a business? Thomas thought. Lisa had had trouble unbending enough to let things be personal now and to start to let emotion have some acknowledged role instead of stuffing it back in a corner for fear of losing control.
He changed the subject, approaching their own hurt feelings at a glancing angle. They weren't about to admit those, but he knew hurt feelings were a big part of the issue here. "I am sorry for how you found out. I'm sure that was a shock to you. I wish we could have met under different circumstances."
Susan bristled. "Right there in the front yard prancing around with our grandchildren."
"I'm not sorry for that," Thomas said. "They were enjoying it, and it brought back a lot of memories. I used to ride my father like that. All of my siblings did. But I'm sorry you found out so abruptly and hadn't been prepared at all."
"Speaking of which," Robert said, "you said no holds barred here."
"With the possible exception of things that might break Greg's confidence. I don't know how much you know about his past, and I'm sure none of us knows all of it. I won't talk about anything John House did unless I'm sure we both are aware of it."
Thomas could almost hear him thinking. "But that's all you would object to?"
"On relevant things to my presence here in their lives, yes."
Robert looked vaguely impressed as well as annoyed at the qualified answer. "You're a slick one, but we already knew that."
Thomas couldn't resist a counter shot, though his tone was still perfectly civil, and he still looked at ease. "As far as purely personal details on me, your own PI will no doubt fill you in there, so a lot of questions would be redundant. Even though I'll give you some personal information if you ask it. Has he made a preliminary report yet?"
They were startled. Thomas smiled. "Oh, he's pretty good, but yes, I noticed him. I'm not afraid of anything you're going to find out. And remember, Greg and Lisa did hire a PI themselves to investigate me back last July. It may look to you like I've had a golden road straight into their lives, but things have gone very carefully over the last several months. They have been cautious."
Robert tried to regain the reins of this conversation. "Okay, if no holds are barred except for what you call irrelevant things, here's one that's definitely relevant. Take off your shirt. I want to see your back."
All at once, Thomas no longer looked at ease. "Why?" he asked.
"Lisa was talking about you last night, like I said. She was telling us more about your injuries back at the explosion you got Greg involved in two months ago and saying that the girls must have been hurting you last Friday riding you like that. I'd like to judge for myself what you were feeling with them." Robert sensed the other man's discomfort and pushed at the point. "You don't like that idea much, do you? Were you playing your injuries up for Lisa, too? Women always fall for the sympathy card."
Thomas was surprised himself by how much he didn't like that idea. He sifted quickly through the reactions and realized with a jolt that the issue was that he didn't want to turn his back on them. That was an instinct gained in the Marines during tricky situations, but it was years since anything had set it off in civilian life. To feel so now was ridiculous. After all, nothing physical was going to happen here, and even if by some wild chance it did, he could take both of these two without any problem, even caught off guard. He had never liked fighting and had rarely gotten into one, but a few times during his service, of course, things had gone south on him during an assignment, and he had had a lot of training from the Marines to use when it was needed. These two were all attitude with no physical risk behind it. Back turned or not, it wouldn't be close to an even contest.
As absurd as that picture was of Lisa's parents tackling him and them all having a senior-edition brawl here in the living room, it helped steady his reawakened instincts. This wasn't an assignment in a hostile city without backup; it was just a family conference, uncomfortable but not threatening. Annoyed a little at himself now, he slowly stood up. He pulled off his T shirt and then turned.
He had looked once in a mirror at his back shortly after the explosion to try to gauge how much Lisa was overreacting any time she had seen it. That one time had forced him to admit that Lisa had a point. He knew he still carried several fresh scars there. He hated using those wounds as a stage now to make a point, but if that was a point that would register with these two, he would submit to it. At least Lisa obviously hadn't also mentioned his jumping on Greg. That was private; not even Greg had brought that up again, though Thomas knew Lisa had worked it out. She had thanked him once, privately, but dropped it at his request. He could tell from Robert's report of the conversation that that hadn't been included. No, that had been just for Greg. Thomas already had all the payback he would ever require for it and had been paid that same day. That was none of Robert and Susan's business.
He heard them come to their feet, and he was unable to resist turning around then. He slipped his shirt back on. "I wasn't making up the injuries," he said. "But they're pretty well healed. Anything I felt Friday night was worth it for the pleasure it brought the girls."
They both looked impressed in spite of themselves, but there was an extra hint of distance there now, too. Thomas surmised that even if rather battered, he looked fitter than Robert did with his shirt off in spite of being older. There was that suggestion of stiffness about the hips again as Robert sat back down on the couch. Susan joined him, and Thomas returned to his chair. "For the record, it wasn't my idea at first," he said. "It was Rachel's. I bent over to pick up something I dropped, and she's on a horse kick right now, and she jumped on me. She's so enthusiastic; you know that." His tone invited them to appreciate their mutual grandkids.
They weren't ready to go there yet. Susan fired up, for the first time her voice raising. "How could you possibly have just left Greg with that monster all those years if you cared at all about him?"
Robert joined her on the subject and even surpassed her on the volume. "And where the hell were you all his life? You just abandoned him, then showed back up decades later out of NOWHERE!" The last word was shouted.
Jet, who had limped a few steps closer to them curiously during the preceding conversation and had been contemplating the laces on Robert's shoes before the man stood when Thomas took his shirt off, cringed down against the floor and, at Robert's last word, tried to bolt under the couch for safety. He wouldn't fit. The metal loop on the brace that extended up above his shoulder hung on the bottom of the couch, and the kitten gave a startled squawk of fear and pain, frantically trying to push on underneath.
Thomas was there at once, moving so swiftly from the recliner to the couch that neither of the Cuddys even saw the steps. "Easy." He picked up Jet, holding him tightly. "It's all right, Jet. You don't have to run away. Nothing's going to happen." He sat back down in the recliner, taking the kitten with him. Jet's heart was pounding; Thomas could feel it against his fingers. The kitten had stopped struggling at least as soon as Thomas picked him up. Thomas felt around the splint. It didn't seem to have shifted, and Jet wasn't flinching away from his gentle probing. He had jolted himself, but hopefully no more harm done, though Thomas would watch him carefully. If he was having any more problems walking at all, he would go back to the vet.
"Easy." Thomas scratched his ears. No purr this time, but Jet leaned into his hand, and a second later, the kitten buried his head underneath Thomas' arm, hiding it even while the rest of him was sticking out. Thomas could feel his heart rate gradually start to slow. He thought of putting him back in the bedroom but felt that Jet needed his presence more right now. They yelled at him, Thomas thought. Or at each other. Maybe even threw things along with it. Raised voices, something he hadn't encountered at the vet clinic or here until now, were also on Jet's acute danger list. Thomas filed the slowly forming picture of Jet's previous home for more thought later. This wasn't the time.
He looked over at the Cuddys, who hadn't said a word during that interval. They seemed taken aback themselves at the chain of events. "Don't frighten the kitten," Thomas commanded. "We're just having a friendly conversation, and we're going to have it calmly." For the first time, there was a finely honed steel edge in his voice, just a hint of you don't want to go there.
Robert swallowed. Thomas felt a moment of sympathy for the man. Shouting to him was clearly another step, though not often used, Thomas thought, to regain control over an opponent when the board meeting approach wasn't working. He hadn't meant any physical threat at all by it, even though Jet had a different opinion. Jet, like Thomas, was operating out of his own separate framework. "I wouldn't have done anything to him," Robert said, rocked by the association, even if delivered by a kitten. "We're not like . . . those other people, the ones who hurt him."
"I know that," Thomas replied. "Jet doesn't. Sometimes, our intentions get lost or misinterpreted along the way, even with people we care about. I'm sure you've noticed that yourselves in life. In the end, the best intentions can go badly wrong." He sighed. "And that's what happened with Greg."