Chapter Three

The sudden ring of the doorbell echoed through the empty home as Sandy was jerked out of his deep state of concentration. He had been going over some lengthy case files with the intention of visiting the PD's office to check on something. What he hadn't expected was a visitor. Especially at such an odd time in the morning. Thus the dark haired man came to the conclusion that it was probably a package or perhaps Kirsten had sent the caterers over early to set up for that evening. Either way, the door had to be answered and so Mr. Cohen made his way from the living room, through the sitting room and into the entrance way. Unfortunately, none of his assumptions could have prepared him for who now stood so prominently on his doorstep.

"Sandford, excellent, I hope you haven't misplaced your clubs, tee time is in half an hour," informed Caleb as he brushed past his son-in-law, heading towards the kitchen. Sandy, looking both shocked and a little bit appalled, shut the door slowly with a bewildered shake of his head and followed the shady real estate tycoon into the kitchen.

"If I'm not mistaken Caleb, tea time isn't until four and since when is Poker acceptable with biscuits and cream?" Inquired the younger of the two as he leaned against the doorframe, watching his father-in-law fumble through the newspaper in search of the business section. The balding Caleb Nichol narrowed his eyes a fraction as he regarded an article, seeming to have either not heard his son-in-law's comment, or had chosen to ignore it.

"Biscuits and cream?" The words were formed more out of afterthought and with the faint tone of perplexity inching into his voice, it was clear to Sandy that the older man had not caught on to the joke. Not in the least. A grim kind of smirk took over the dark haired man's lips as he watched Caleb fold up the newspaper and toss it onto the island. "Golf, Sanford. Assuming you haven't forgotten what that might be, I was hoping we could play at least nine holes this morning, unless you actually have some semblance of work to do," concluded the older man as he regarded his jew of a son-in-law. Of course Caleb had decided to accept Sandy as a trustworthy aid in light of the month's previous occurrences. Although he still would not give the man his blessing, the lawyer had achieved in gaining Cal's tolerance. Their relationship was based on favours and traversing thin, perilous ice flows, but with Kirsten as the bridge tying them together it was almost nice to admit that for once they were sort of getting along. Sort of being the key factor of their newfound relationship, for on Sandy's side of things, there were very mixed feelings.

"Golf, sure, I would love to oblige you, unfortunately as an attorney of the law I have a few offenders lined up to defend today, Caleb. I trust you understand the importance of my presence in their company?" Sandy stated pointedly, raising his eyebrows slightly in his father-in-law's direction. The older man regarded Sandy with a hard look, almost as if he were attempting to look right through him. Caleb Nichol had that effect on a lot of people. Despite his bad choices he was still one frightening man. Too bad Sandy wasn't one of those fearful types.

"Come on Sandy, a capable attorney can very well sacrifice a few hours for leisure before winning in the courtroom, I know plenty of others who do," Caleb intoned pointedly. By this point, as Sandy had come to realize, his father-in-law was no longer really asking for a game of golf, but stating that tee-time was in half an hour and Sandy would be joining him. Unfortunately for the dark haired man; whether he wanted to or not. With a sigh Sandy ran a hand through his hair and gave a feeble nod. He only hoped he was doing his wife a favour by keeping her father out of the office and out of even more trouble.

On the other side of things, Caleb was preparing himself; he was about to drop a rather large bomb. He hoped he'd at least get a birdie out of it.

"It must be something in the water."

"What are you talking about Seth?" Ryan asked, sounding a little distracted as he fumbled with the books in his locker. The tall, jewish boy leaned against the wall of lockers beside his friend's, shaking his head and briefly staring down a short girl in grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a baseball cap from some weird team. The girl shot back an odd look as she hurried by, apparently late for class.

"The ninth graders seem to be getting tinier and tinier, they look like they should still be in middle school, I'm telling you… Something in the water, but onto bigger and better things, Ryan! Today we, of the comic book club, will be making comic book club history!" Seth exclaimed, looking both gleeful and a little sly. The blonde boy didn't appear as though he shared much of his friend's glee. He looked quite a bit sceptical. "Now listen, I know you're not much for the whole talking thing, but this is truly an event to be present for. I swear it's almost like bringing Comicon home, but without the scantily clad women. They weren't quite available," Seth added, speaking the last bit in hushed tones. Ryan raised a quizzical brow.

"You're… Talking about comic books over the lunch period?" Ryan guessed, not quite getting at what his dark haired friend was trying to express.

"Yes and no, Ryan, yes and no. I'm talking about an open discussion forum. We, of the comic book club, have decided to open the floor to others who may have their two cents on the subject of Superman or the Green Lantern. Some people just need some poking and prodding to come forth into the light. So? What do you think of that? Huh? Huh?" Seth concluded for the moment with a suggestive nod and nudge of the elbow. Closing his locker door with a loud bang and refitting the lock, Ryan Atwood wondered for the millionth time how he was still somewhat sane with a friend like Seth Cohen. Not saying that he wasn't a good friend, on the contrary. The two of them had that kind of unspeakable bond forged between real siblings or epic allies. Or something like that anyway. There were just some Sethisms that were only barely tolerable. For instance how the Cohen boy liked to talk at people as opposed to them. It went along with his being self-obsessed and it made Seth, well, Seth. Ryan gave his friend a slight smile and a faint chuckle.

"I think I see someone who might appreciate your big plans more than—"

"Zach! My ever so humble partner in crime, I was just recounting the details of our brilliance to our accomplice over here," Seth cut in quickly, greeting the other young man with a high five that turned into something of a secret handshake the two had created earlier that morning. The water polo player turned comic book geek grinned widely as he offered a nod towards Ryan in form of greeting.

"I made sure we'd get extra tables for this afternoon, I think we might have a nice turn out," intoned Zach, sounding nearly as excited as the other brown haired teen. Ryan glanced between the two beaming boys; eyebrows raised in what might have been disbelief, but was merely an expression of exasperation. They were utterly and entirely hopeless in his opinion and he could only hope to get extra work in World History so that he'd be too busy to attend their little 'session'. He was also hoping to run into Lindsay that afternoon; he hadn't actually seen her since she left earlier that morning.

"I'll try and stop by," murmured the boy from Chino, a rueful sort of smile playing on his lips. Seth beamed and gave his best friend a good pat on the back, the sound of the bell echoing through the halls.

"Fair enough, fair enough. Well, Zach, shall we head over and set up our forum of wonderful enlightenment?" Inquired Seth as he and the water polo, comic book fan started off in the opposite direction of Mr. Atwood's World History class. Ryan gave a slight smile and shook his head, watching the two meander off before leaving his locker and making his own way to class.