Chapter 8 Friday—7:45 AM

Dubois Condo

Even as House and Cuddy reestablished themselves professionally, Dave and Angie had wound up their vacation in western Massachusetts and upstate New York, seeing friends and catching up on the news in their old haunts. After the stress related to Vogler and the old high school business, they were relieved to visit the old homesteads. In Amherst, Ludlow and Wabash, they inspected their family's grave sites, making sure that those who had passed on before their time wouldn't feel neglected.

After this, the couple was more than ready to return home and get back to their lives once more.

On the morning after, Angie lay awake, staring at the ceiling. What if our friends don't find jobs? Will they be okay? She bit her lip and looked over at her snoozing husband. How can he sleep through this?

"With your fretting? I can hear it loud and clear," he muttered half-awake. "What's wrong, Princess?"

"I'm worried about Lisa, Greg and James. Sorry I woke you, Sweetie," she apologized.

"It's okay." He looked at her. "Always concerned about everyone around you."

"I learned from the master," she quipped with a smirk.

"All right. Rub it in," he cracked while kissing her. "Everything's going to be okay. Lisa and James will get something fairly soon, I'd imagine. They're too good to stay unemployed for long."

"And Greg?"

He shrugged. "That might take an act of Congress—or divinity."

"He's not that bad, Dave."

"The Child would disagree," he countered. "His pain is as loud as his mouth. Great mind but lousy tact."

"Maybe you could help him," she suggested. "Speaking of that, I wonder how bad his leg is? Maybe I could heal him?"

"Angie, House isn't going to let you anywhere near his leg. Whoever the doctor was who tore it apart in the first place did a number on him," he indicated.

"And you know that—how?" she queried.

"Trust me; his pain is old. I picked up on the emotional scarring in that guy." He rolled his eyes. "I just had a really stupid idea."

"That's nothing new," she teased.

"Very funny," he retorted. "He needs a stable place with lots of latitude and a boss who allows ingenuity without too much anal retentiveness. That sound about right?"

"From what Lisa said, yeah. So?" She looked strangely at him. "Here? Dave, you two would blow the campus up between yourselves."

"Vogler was aggravating the situation both ways in Jersey," he debated before feeling his emotions start to go off again. For much of the previous afternoon, he had felt the buzzing in his head. "Now you've got me thinking again." He got up and went into the bathroom. After downing two St. John's Wart pills and water, he returned and slid into bed.

"I thought you deserted me," she noted.

"Perish the thought, Doc," he laughed, cuddling up to her. "You aren't getting rid of me."

Then the phone rang.

"The world calls," she groused while getting up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Angie, this is Lydia. Is Dave there?" Lydia Coltrane, Dave's colleague in history, wondered.

"Hi. He's right here. Hang on." She handed the receiver to him. "Lydia's on the line. I'm going to make some coffee and check on the twins."

He nodded. "Hi, Lydia. You're up early. Is everything okay?"

"Relatively speaking. Are you coming into campus? There's a faculty meeting at 1:15 and I'd like to have lunch with you first," she requested.

"Sure. I'll be there around 9 for class. Meet me about 11:15 at my office?" he agreed.

"Okay. Thanks, Dave. See you soon," she agreed before hanging up.

Now what? He got up and threw on his bathrobe before following the coffee aroma toward the kitchen where his wife and daughters were chatting about things. "Morning, Ladies."

"Everything okay, Papa?" Penny inquired anxiously.

"I'm fine. Thanks," he indicated while kissing her forehead and doing the same for the twins. "How about some smiles for me?" Seeing them comply with silly grins, he smirked. "Better."

"Papa, are you okay?" Karen asked.

"I'm fine. Just a headache," he noted.

Lauren rolled her eyes, knowing better than to push the point but still feeling the Child's testiness underneath. Something's got him ticked off. What's going on?

"How's the schoolwork coming?" he asked them.

"Okay," the twins chorused with an almost bored tone.

"You are applying yourselves right?" their mother pointed out.

"Of course we are, Mama," Karen assured her.

"They've been reading constantly, Angie," Penny added.

"That's good," Angie agreed. "We'll have to do something fun this weekend."

"Sounds great to me," Dave concurred. "Meantime, I have to get ready for class. Don't be late for school now." He headed toward the shower.

"You heard him," Angie emphasized. "Penny, would you mind getting these dishes? Sorry but I'm running late myself."

"Of course. Francesca wanted to do dinner with everyone tomorrow. Maybe we could come up with something fun out of that?" Penny suggested.

"Good idea. I'll bring that up to your Aunt Karen at the UMC when I see her," Angie noted. Hearing the shower stop, she added, "Have a good day, Girls." With that, she rushed in.

The three sisters looked at each other with a bit of mirth. With their parents running around like that again, life was definitely back to normal.

New Talon—9:30 AM

Feeling the need to explore without a chaperone, House left the hotel, crossed Campbell Avenue and walked west down Speedway toward the Talon. Wonder what the natives are like? Wait'll they get a load of me. He labored through the front door and inspected the mixed crowd of students and adult professorial-types. This has gotta be The Hangout. A second assessment made him roll his eyes. The wallpaper's gross and the paint's gotta go though. Whoever decorated this place needs their head examined. Not seeing a waitperson in the vicinity, he made his way toward the front counter where two girls—one brunette, one sandy-brown haired—were waiting on customers.

Miranda watched him approaching intently. "Hi. What can we get you this morning?"

He looked at the blackboard which teemed with drink choices. "Decisions, decisions." He tapped his fingers on the counter and scrunched his eyes critically. "Dubois Dandy? What is that?"

"It's a chocolate mocha with cherry syrup and lots of whipped cream," Miranda explained. "It's named after my uncle who teaches here."

That comment intrigued him. "Uncle, huh? Wouldn't happen to be a dark haired guy with glasses who has emotional issues, would it?"

"That's Professor Dubois all right," Samantha, the sandy-haired one, agreed. "He's really not that bad once you get to know him though."

House started to comment but thought twice about it. He still didn't know enough about the medievalist to really make a critical assessment. Not that he would have cared, mind you.

Cuddy's words were weighing on him. Remember, don't blow this chance!

Still, he couldn't help himself. "I'll do the dandy, I guess." When Miranda had left to get his drink, he asked Sam, "Who's the interior decorator here? This looks like early bizarre."

"Which, I would say, should make you feel right at home around, Greg," Lex Luthor presumed, walking up behind him with a smirk on his face. "Always shooting from the hip?"

The doctor shrugged. "Just making myself at home."

"I admire a man who's honest. So does Fishburne. That's why you two are going to fit so well together across the street. Sam, have Miranda bring his drink and a large latte to us. His drink's on me."

"Sure, Lex. It'll be right out," Sam concurred.

"Gee to what do I owe the honor, Lex?" House queried as they sat down at the corner booth.

The billionaire shrugged. "No reason. I just felt like doing that. As I said, I like honesty and candidness in people. It makes them interesting."

"Cool. Not many people do," House noted. "So what's the deal with the decor? The owner Egyptian?"

"No. Actually, I own this place. It's modeled after the original Talon in Smallville, KS which is a cafe too. Originally, it was one of those old 30s theaters," Lex explained.

"Ah. That explains it. And the pink? You need to soothe the students' savage studying tendencies or what?"

Lex arched a brow and stifled a chuckle. "That is my partner's favorite color. You'll probably meet Lana Lang-Kent at some point down here if you hang around long enough. She's a graduating senior this semester."

"You knew her from back home, right? What does her hubby say to that?"

"Clark's my best friend. He's great with this whole set up," Lex noted as their drinks arrived. "Thanks, Miranda."

She nodded and headed back to the counter.

The whole friendly yet authority thing wasn't lost on House. There are layers and layers to this whole deal. I'm definitely going to have some delving to do here.

"Something intrigues you?" Lex asked, assessing the other's curiosity.

"Just trying to figure everything out. Just like dinner last night. That was too easy. Why would a guy like Fishburne accept us so quickly? It's almost like there's someone on the inside," House declared.

"Your reputations speak for themselves. Of course, a few folks around here are grateful for what you did last week and could have made some calls if you get my drift?" Lex suggested while finishing his drink.

House sighed. "Like you?"

Lex looked him in the eye. "I won't deny I called him. He needs people. You need a job. Your materials speak for themselves." He got up. "I hope you take the job, Greg.You're a fascinating person to be around. Good luck this afternoon." With that, he left the cafe.

House scratched his head, still feeling like there was some angle he wasn't quite getting. Finally, he shrugged and continued on the drink. Maybe he is nuts but Dubois sure knows a good drink when he mixes it up.