A/N: Sorry for the delay. It's been a hectic week, musically and otherwise, followed by a hectic weekend so far. Here's a quick update; more coming maybe Monday, which I have off, but I'm beat tonight and heading for bed early. Tomorrow includes not only the usual Sunday rounds but two hours of dress rehearsal in the evening, and I need a good, long sleep tonight. Thanks for all the reviews, and more is coming soon as I can. Next scene up is breakfast, and after that, once you finish reading this chapter, you can probably guess.

(H/C)

Tuesday morning started quietly enough, though Cuddy couldn't have imagined when she awoke how the day would end up. House slept later than he had Monday, and the girls, pacified with some Cheerios by Marina, tried to play quietly under her prompting until he and Cuddy were ready for breakfast. Rachel was unable to leave the stuffed horse completely alone, but she settled for only the hoofbeats, not the whinnies. She and Abby built a zoo on the carpet with all of their stuffed animals they had along on the trip. Every time the two got too loud in their imagined animal adventures, Marina would remind them that Daddy was still asleep, and they tried diligently to keep it down, especially after Rachel had asked if he had taken "big med'cine for his leg." Those mornings didn't happen regularly, but they were often enough that the girls knew by now he would take longer to wake up and get moving. Cuddy had checked on things in the main room a few times, grateful all over again to Marina for making this trip, and then left her to it, going back to watch her husband.

When House finally did exit the bedroom, the noise erupted like a volcano as the two girls were reprieved from that painfully difficult command of "Shhhh!"

"Daddy!" Rachel galloped up to him, carefully hugging his good leg. "Morning!"

"Good morning, Rachel. Good morning, Abby." Abby was never quite as fast as her sister, but she claimed her fair share of good leg when she got there. He bent to pick them up one at a time for a more bilateral hug.

"We were quiet!" Rachel announced proudly.

"Wonders never cease," House replied. He noted the menagerie on the floor. "Was the horse quiet, too?"

"Uh huh. Marina said, 'Shhhh!'" Rachel gave the command the full dramatized sound effect, then, reminded of her horse, ran back over to get it.

Abby pulled on her father's pants leg. "Up 'gain!" she demanded. He picked her up promptly, then turned to face Cuddy's tightened lips.

"What?"

"She didn't say please, Greg. You ought to make her say please when she wants you to do something. Say please, Abby."

Abby gave her mother a look that spoke clearer than words. Since she was already up, she saw no point in revising her request; the first time had worked. Instead, she studied her father closely, face to face. "You better?" she asked.

He sighed. Of course, the girls knew about his leg by now, and judging from Rachel's description of play, they knew that he was sleeping in this morning and could no doubt guess why. They don't think less of you, he tried to remind himself, channeling Jensen. "Yes, I'm feeling better this morning." He really was. The morphine had reset his pain levels, and a hot shower when he did get up had finished unkinking things from the night's stillness. The offending limb was about as satisfied right now as it ever got.

"Good," Abby said and spontaneously hugged him again.

Rachel ran back up just then with the horse whinnying to make up for lost time. "Morning!" she announced. "Ember says morning."

House groaned. "You named it Ember?"

"Uh huh. Like the real horse."

"But it's not red," House objected, grasping for some straw.

"I don't care. Ember," she insisted.

"Come on," Cuddy said. "We need to head down to breakfast. I just sent Wilson a text a minute ago that we're on our way." Also one to Thomas.

"Let's eat!" Rachel agreed.

"Yes." Abby seconded the motion.

"You can't take the horse with us to breakfast," Cuddy stated. "Put it back with the other animals, Rachel."

"But it's hungry," Rachel tried.

Cuddy shook her head firmly, cringing at the thought of the stuffed horse at a table along with syrup. "You can play with it more later. Put it down now."

"Now," Abby repeated.

"Shut up," Rachel fired back instantly.

House sighed and set Abby down. "Rachel, say you're sorry." Abby and Rachel both hesitated and appealed to him in look.

"Say it," Cuddy insisted. "We don't go to breakfast until you do."

Rachel straightened her shoulders, facing the necessity. She took a few steps to her sister. "Sorry, Abby." She gave her a hug, which Abby returned.

Cuddy smiled. "That's my good girl."

"I'm getting to like that phrase more the more we do with it," House noted. He looked at his wife, eyes sparkling. "Have I done anything I need to apologize for yet today?"

She ran a quick mental checklist. "You didn't make Abby say please."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Lisa."

Both girls interrupted their kiss. "Eat now?" Abby asked.

Rachel was more blunt. "No kissing! Let's eat!"

Laughing, they split apart, and, with the horse restabled on the floor, the group left the suite to head for breakfast. The elevator stopped one floor down, and Wilson and Jensen were waiting as the door opened.

"Perfect timing," Cuddy said as they entered. Fortunately, the elevator had been empty to start with; their group alone would fill one fairly quickly.

Wilson smiled as if he'd just been given a good job performance review. "I told him it would still take you a few minutes to actually leave the suite after your text. Especially with the girls."

"Rachel wanted to bring the stuffed horse," House informed him. Wilson cringed as if imagining syrup disasters himself. House turned to Jensen, who had been quiet so far. "Don't forget, we've got those appointments tomorrow."

Jensen looked startled briefly, then relaxed into a smile. "I hadn't forgotten."

"Got to have you along to interpret Shrinkese with her psych, after all."

"You mean there's a language you don't speak?" Wilson asked, offering a way out of the moment. House was already looking for one, but Wilson was glad he'd tossed Jensen a little reassurance. The oncologist had never seen Jensen quite like he was on this trip.

Two floors down, the elevator stopped again, and that time, as the door opened, it was Thornton. "Good morning, Thomas," Cuddy said. Rachel, Jensen, and Wilson echoed the greeting as he started to enter.

"Again, perfect timing," House started, shooting Cuddy a suspicious look, but he broke off before asking, and his voice was suddenly even sharper. "What's wrong with your foot?"

Cuddy looked at Thomas quickly as he finished walking into the elevator. She hadn't noticed anything at all off about his strides or the way he was standing now that he'd stopped. He did look tired, she thought, as if he weren't yet recharged completely from the emotionally wearing day yesterday. This last week was telling on him. She still couldn't spot what her husband had seen, though it never occurred to her to question it.

"I tripped and stubbed my toe on something," Thomas answered. "Just bruised it. It's okay." Cuddy was left trying to deduce which foot she needed to be worrying about here; she would make sure to ask her husband later. Thornton really must be getting tired from the cumulative effect of it all. Normally, he moved with the fluid grace that House once had; for him to trip was unusual, at least based on her observations so far.

"We all need a break today," Cuddy decided. "Just relaxing, doing something undemanding."

"Here we go," House said. "You have an agenda already made out with 14 points, of course."

"Actually, I don't. We can talk about it over breakfast." She was relieved that he hadn't immediately excluded Thomas from the suggested mutual relaxing day. "There's nothing we have to do today, after all. No appointments, nothing specific."

The elevator opened again at the lobby, and they exited, Cuddy watching Thornton now and still trying to decide what foot was bruised. She was startled to hear her name called as they crossed the lobby toward the hall leading to the dining room.

"Lisa!" She looked around. It was Patsy, Blythe's next-door neighbor, hurrying across the lobby from the main doors. "Lisa! May I talk to you for a minute alone?"

The whole group had come to a halt. "We were just about . . . sure. Back in a minute." Patsy looked worried as well as excited, but from her not-so-subtle looks at House, she would spill the beans faster solo. "I'll tell you everything soon as she leaves," Cuddy promised her husband softly. She followed the neighbor. House was watching Patsy himself with his differential look on, and she knew he'd forgotten breakfast.

Patsy stopped out of earshot from the group, and she spoke softly. "I'm so glad you hadn't checked out yet. I was afraid I'd miss you, and I've got Greg's cell number from Blythe but not yours, and I really wanted to suggest this to you first."

"We're not leaving until Thursday. We have a few appointments tomorrow. Is something wrong?"

"It's about the house."

Cuddy stiffened up, imagining yet another calamity joining the line from the last week. Fire. Broken pipes. She had really meant to hunt down Patsy before she left anyway, intending to offer to pay her to keep an eye on the place until they knew where they stood legally and could sell it. "Is something wrong with it?"

"No, no, not at all. I just wanted to ask, and I know this is awful timing, and that's why I wanted to ask you first, but there is a reason I'm asking right now. Thomas said yesterday before the funeral once when I said Greg hadn't been by and worried he wasn't in town yet that he thought Greg probably didn't want to stay at that house. Which I can understand, really, once I think about it. It's probably John's house in his eyes." Patsy was almost simmering, her words running together, but she stopped here for a response.

"Yes," Cuddy confirmed. "What's going on?"

Patsy took a deep breath. She reminded Cuddy of a hummingbird just now. "Do you think he'll want to sell it?"

Cuddy was getting puzzled. She looked back over to her husband and knew that Jensen, Wilson, and Thornton all together, trying to keep him involved in conversation, wouldn't be able to hold him away verbally much longer. "I'm sure he'll want to sell it. We don't need another house, and he wouldn't want that one anyway."

Patsy relaxed, the worry draining away. "Oh, this is perfect. Absolutely perfect. I know this isn't the best time to bring it up right after the funeral, but my brother called me last night. My baby brother; I've always called him that. He's 16 years younger. Mom and Dad said he was an accident, but such a good accident. I'm the oldest, and he was the baby."

Cuddy was starting to understand why Blythe and Patsy had been good friends. Her only previous two experiences of the other woman were at the hospital after Blythe's accident and at the funeral yesterday, neither of which occasions encouraged ebullience. "What did he tell you last night, Patsy?"

"He lost his job! His employer is downsizing because of the economy." She stated it like marvelous news, and Cuddy looked confused. "The thing is, he was so discouraged last night, wondering what to do now, and he still has some years until he can go on Social Security, but his wife had already lost her job last year. Jobs are especially down in their area, and he wanted my advice if he should just pull up roots and look somewhere else. The lease on their place now runs out on the 15th; he wasn't sure about signing for another year with things up in the air. And I thought of Blythe's house. It would be so perfect, having them next door, and we do have more jobs around Lexington than he does there, and his wife loves flowers, too. They'd love the place. And I could help out with payments if I had to, but they have some savings, too, and I'm sure they'd find jobs. It's been so lonely since my Harry passed on, but the thought of having them right next door is too good to be true. My baby brother, living right next to me."

Cuddy was staring. "You want to buy Blythe's house? I mean, your brother does?"

"Yes. Oh, he was so cheered up when I mentioned it last night. We've always been close, because I was like his second mother, and he was always my baby. Of course, I did say that I didn't know for sure if it was available, and I'm sorry to be rushing you asking like this, but like I said, his lease is up on the 15th of this month, so he needs to decide quickly if he's going to move."

Cuddy felt a little lightheaded. She had been dreading managing the house long distance, even with a real estate agent, worrying about finding the best one and keeping an eye on things from Princeton. And now, in a down housing market, they had a buyer for the house before it was even listed. "He wants the house," she repeated.

"Yes." Patsy was still excited but finally winding down verbally. "Do you think Greg would agree?"

"Agree to what?" House asked, limping up at that moment, trailed by the others. Cuddy was impressed that he had left the conversation private as long as he had.

"Patsy's brother wants to relocate to Lexington and buy Blythe's house," Cuddy told him.

He looked from her to Patsy, then shrugged. "Great. Give her a receipt, and let's go eat breakfast."

"It's not that easy, Greg." The difficulties began lining up in Cuddy's mind. Far from a release, this might complicate things even further. "Patsy, we aren't even sure where things stand legally. I'm not even sure it is his house, although I can't imagine her leaving it to anyone else. We have to find her lawyer, go through probate. If there isn't a will, it would take even longer, although Greg would still get it. Do you have any idea who Blythe's lawyer is?"

"No, I don't, but there's a retired lawyer who eats at the center. She might have used him, and she probably would have asked his advice picking one even if it was somebody else. I'll give you his number, but he's out of town himself for a few weeks over the holidays. I'm sure she left the house to Greg."

"Even if she did, probate takes months," Cuddy said. "We're willing to sell, but I'm not sure we can."

"He could rent it for a few months until things were settled legally," Jensen suggested.

"Oh, that's a great idea," Patsy agreed. "It's the location we want, next to me. If it takes a while to work it out legally, that's fine. Really, it doesn't need to be empty anyway. Houses get lonely without people." She looked at House. "Brian's wife loves flowers, Greg. She'd take care of what Blythe was doing with the landscaping."

"Even if we rent it to you for a while, we still need to find the lawyer," Cuddy insisted. "Besides, it has to be cleaned out, too."

House tightened up there more than he had at any point in the conversation so far. Selling the house obviously didn't bother him at all. Thinking about John's things in it did. "That's easy. I'll just hire some company to come shovel everything out into a giant dumpster. I'll bet it could be cleared out in a day, tops. Probably just a few hours. There's nothing there that matters."

Thomas managed to conceal his flinch, though Cuddy, thinking of the pictures, did not. "Don't do that," Jensen said softly. House shot him a challenging look. "Don't throw it all away without knowing exactly what's there. You will want some of it." House looked incredulous, but Jensen's eyes were steady, and he held his ground.

Patsy spoke up again. "I apologize for the rush on this. My brother's lease is up on the 15th, so we are up against a time limit. I'd be glad to have things moved into storage myself until you feel ready to look at them."

"It's not a question of feeling ready," House snapped, then broke off. "How did you know what hotel we were at?" he said, wrenching the subject away.

"Thomas happened to mention yesterday at the funeral when I asked if he'd seen you yet that you were staying at the same hotel he was, and he'd mentioned last week at lunch where he was staying. So nice that you happened to wind up staying close to your friend in all this." Patsy returned carefully to the subject in the front of her mind. "If you don't want to do this yet, Greg, I understand. Maybe my brother can rent somewhere else in town until things settle down."

House shook his head. "We need to do something with that house. If we don't, she'll be gnawing on it like a dog with a long-distance bone once we're back home. You can have it. That's fine."

Patsy looked from him to Cuddy, then at her watch. "I have an appointment in Cincinnati I need to be heading for. I'll be gone all day, but you can call me if you need to, today or any time. Here, Lisa, let me give you my cell number." She pulled out a small notepad from her purse and jotted it down, tearing that page off and handing it over. Cuddy heard the jingling of keys as Patsy returned the notepad to the purse compartment.

"You have a key, don't you?" Cuddy asked. Blythe's own keys were back in Princeton along with her purse. Cuddy had been too busy with kids and husband and preparing for the trip to be thinking about the house until after the mountain of the funeral was behind them.

"Yes. Do you want it?" Patsy pulled out her keyring without waiting for an answer, removing one and handing it over. "I apologize again for the timing."

"It's okay. You're doing us a favor, really."

"Well, goodbye for now. I have to get going." Patsy left, and the adults in the group were speechless for a moment, just absorbing it.

Wilson was the first to break the silence. "Wow. I'll have to tell Bonnie about this one. She won't believe it. No real estate agent would."

"We still have to find that lawyer," Cuddy said. She looked at the key and slowly deposited it in her own purse. "I might go over there today just to look for papers. If Blythe had a desk, maybe she has a copy of her will there. It could be filed neatly just waiting for us."

House shook his head. "Did you even look at that address book? She probably had made a will, especially after nearly dying in that accident a few years ago. But she wouldn't have filed it under W in a file cabinet. Besides, it's not just the lawyer you're thinking of."

His tone was challenging, but she met his eyes without backing down. "I want some of those pictures, Greg. If you don't want to see the place, that's fine. But I'm not going to let you hire a dumpster company without me even knowing what else is there."

"The outside has changed now, Greg," Thomas said. "I've seen it many times over the years. It isn't his house anymore, not since his death. The inside might have changed, too."

"I've been there," House said sharply. Once, Cuddy added mentally. For all of 15 minutes a few years ago and in pretty much of a John haze then.

Thornton held his ground, though Cuddy could tell how tense he was. To give him credit, she didn't think it was that piano in the front of his thoughts right now, either. He was truly concerned for his son, not wanting to see him do something irrevocable that he'd regret later. "You need to have . . . a piece of her. You might be surprised how many there are."

"It's good advice," Jensen agreed.

Marina threw in her two cents. "You do not just throw away your mother's things."

House abruptly hit the limit, turning away. "Let's go eat before they stop serving breakfast."

The girls had been silent through most of this, trying and failing to follow the conversation, but Rachel came to life now. "Let's eat!" They walked to the hall leading to the dining room, and for the moment, at least, the subject of the house was dropped.