Alan was the first one to wake up. He headed downstairs to make coffee and see how many people were still around for breakfast. He had already surreptitiously checked the bedrooms and found them empty. The living room was empty, but the door to the garage was open and the lights were still on. He peeked into the garage and smiled at the sight of Charlie and Amita sound asleep curled up together on the ratty old couch.

A quick peek out the front window revealed that Don's SUV was gone. He started the pot of coffee, cleaned and hulled some strawberries and checked the supply of eggs and bagels. Perfect. Now to wait for the sleepy heads to wake up. He had just settled down with the Sunday paper when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Alan, this is Ben Cole. I hope I haven't called too early."

"No, not at all. How are you and Maggie?"

"We're just fine, thank you. And yourself?"

"Very well, thanks. What can I do for you?"

"Is Charlie available? I tried his cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

"He's still asleep. He was working until the wee small hours of the morning. May I take a message?"

"Yes, thanks. Maggie and I have gotten six tickets to the opening reception for the Old Masters show at the Armand Hammer Museum. Don and Liz are joining us, and I just wondered if Charlie and Amita would be able to come as well. It's this evening at seven o'clock."

"I'll ask them when they get up. Old Masters? Paintings?"

"No, unfortunately. Prints and drawings. It looks to be an excellent show. I'm sorry I didn't think to ask you if you'd care to join us. If you'd like, I can pick up a ticket for you..."

"I don't want to inconvenience you..."

"No inconvenience at all. We'd enjoy your company."

"I'll pay you back for the ticket."

"You will do no such thing. Consider if a small thank you for all the hospitality you've shown us since we've been in Los Angeles. Please, let me buy your ticket."

Alan sighed. "All right. But only if you'll join us for dinner. We can carpool to the museum."

"Ahh, Alan, you drive a hard bargain. What time would you like us to arrive?"

"Why don't we plan on dinner at five? You can come by any time before then, of course. I'll invite Don and Liz. And, thank you, Ben. I'm looking forward to the show."

Ben chuckled. "No. Thank you. We'll see you this evening."

When Alan hung up, he sat back down with the paper, and opened to the arts and entertainment section. There was a two-page article about the show at the Hammer. He could see why Ben and Maggie were interested in seeing it. He could even understand why Charlie would be interested in it. Charlie was interested in everything. But Don? Well, maybe Liz liked art. He realized he didn't really know a lot about Don's latest love interest. Latest. That was a terrible way to think about his older son's love life. Alan had really held out hopes for Don's relationship with Robin, and was shocked when Don announced that Robin had dumped him. Now that Don finally showed an interest in settling down with one woman, the world seemed to be conspiring against him. He sighed and tried to concentrate on the article.

He was halfway through the article when the door to the garage opened. Amita entered the room, stretching. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Amita. It looks like that lumpy old couch was not kind to you last night."

"No, it wasn't. I don't even remember falling asleep. Charlie and I were talking about the case, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up, a mass of aches and pains."

"What case are you working on, if I'm allowed to ask."

Amita laughed. "I don't think it's a big secret. We're trying to find out if there are any connections between the art thieves and the students who attacked Charlie. Charlie discovered one of the students was related to a woman who was involved in the first theft."

"Speaking of art thieves, Ben called. He said he got some tickets for the reception at the Armand Hammer Museum tonight and wanted to know if you and Charlie wanted to go along. He said Don and Liz are coming. Now I understand why Don would be interested."

"I'd like to go. I'm sure Charlie would like to go too." She glanced at the garage door. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get to the shower before Charlie uses up all the hot water."

"Go right ahead. Maybe the hot water will work out some of the kinks."

"I hope so," Amita said, hobbling up the stairs.

A few minutes later, Charlie stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes. "Hi, Dad," he mumbled. "Where's Amita?"

"She's in the shower. There's coffee, if you'd like some while you're waiting."

"Sounds good. Remind me not to sleep on that couch again. I feel like I'm about a thousand years old."

Alan looked over his glasses at his younger son. "There are two perfectly good, perfectly empty beds upstairs."

"We hadn't planned on falling asleep out there. We were talking, and must have just fallen asleep."

"Talking," Alan scoffed. "I can't think of too many men who, being alone with a lovely young woman like Amita, would spend the night talking."

Charlie's cheeks reddened as he walked to the kitchen. When he reached the door, he stopped, and turned, grinning. "I didn't say we spent the whole night talking."

Before Alan could respond, Charlie was in the kitchen, leaving the door swinging behind him.

When Charlie returned, carefully holding a mug of steaming coffee, Alan said, "I almost forgot to tell you. Ben called. He said he's got tickets to the reception at the Hammer tonight and wanted to know if we'd like to come. I, of course, accepted, but I didn't know about you and Amita. She's already said she'd like to go."

Charlie grinned. "So if I don't go, you're going to take my girlfriend."

Alan shrugged. "May/December relationships are not entirely unheard of."

Charlie snorted into his coffee. "That's okay. I'd like to go. It'll give me a chance to case the joint, as they say."

"As who say? Movie gangsters from before you were born?"

The bathroom door opened, and Charlie stood. "Finally!" he murmured to Alan.

"That's what you get for letting her get up first," Alan replied.

Charlie headed for the stairs, only to be stopped by Amita. "Be quick. I'm not done in there yet. I just have to get some stuff from my car."

Charlie put his arm around her waist and drew her closer for a kiss. "Came prepared, like a good Girl Scout," he whispered.

"I've learned to expect the unexpected with you, Professor Eppes."

He pulled away, and patted her on the behind. "I'll be quick, Professor Ramanujan."

Once he saw his reflection, he decided a quick shower was in order. So, risking Amita's wrath, he dropped his clothes on the bathroom floor and turned on the shower. He had just finished soaping up when he realized his error. The water was starting to gradually get cooler. He yelped and rinsed quickly, shivering by the time he finished. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he picked up his clothes.

Amita stood in the hallway, overnight bag in her hand, leaning against the wall. She giggled when she saw him. "You're looking a little blue, Charlie." She ruffled his cold, wet hair. "Serves you right. I told you I wasn't finished."

Charlie shook his head, splattering her with cold water. "I'm definitely going to have to buy a bigger water heater."

Amita put her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes to kiss him. "What makes you think you're going to need it?"

He pulled her tighter against his cold, wet body. "I was hoping you'd be spending more time over here."

"Are you hitting on me?"

"Oh, I think it's gone way beyond that..."

"Charlie!" Alan's voice came from downstairs. "Are you planning on being down here in time for breakfast, or should I plan on lunch instead."

Charlie laughed and gave Amita a quick kiss. "I'll be right down. I just need to change my clothes." He pulled away and straightened his towel. "However, Amita has to put her makeup on and do her hair, so we might be looking at supper instead." He ducked as Amita punched him in the arm. "Ow! Dad! Amita hit me!"

"Well, you deserved it. Leave our guest alone and get your butt down here."

As everyone settled around the table and passed the coffee pot around, Alan said, "See, Charlie, you were exaggerating. It's still breakfast time. And Amita, you look lovely. Charlie normally takes twice as long to look half as good."

Charlie rolled his eyes as he spread cream cheese on an onion bagel. "I give up. I'm outnumbered!"

"So," Alan said, "you two think the art thieves are going to hit the Old Masters show at the Hammer?"

Charlie nodded and swallowed with a gulp. "Yeah. Ben and Maggie studied the collections of local museums and I came up with an algorithm to determine their next likely target. This show will be perfect. It has a lot of very expensive, very portable works."

"But the security must be very good."

Amita poured herself some orange juice and said, "It is, according to Maggie. But these thieves seem to like a challenge. They're very smart, and flashy."

Alan nodded. "And what could be flashier than walking out in broad daylight carrying a Da Vinci."

"Right," Charlie said. "But it's great that Ben was able to get tickets so we can try to figure out exactly what they'll go for, and how they're going to go for it."

"But to do that," Alan said, reaching for the strawberries, "You need to be a step or two ahead of them."

Charlie nodded. "At least. But with Ben and Maggie's knowledge of art and museums, Don and Liz's law enforcement expertise, and our logic, I think we'll be able to outsmart them."

Alan exchanged a worried glance with Amita.

"What?" Charlie asked. "Don't you think we can do it."

"Oh, I think you can do it, Charlie," Alan said softly. "I just get worried when things sound too simple."

"Don't worry. I've learned over the years not to be overconfident.."

Amita laughed. At Charlie's glare, she said, "I'm sorry, but I have never seen anybody more confident of his findings than you are."

"I admit to being confident, but have you ever known me to be overconfident?" Holding up a hand to forestall their comments, he continued, "I mean recently. Believe me, I remember the fiasco when the bank robbers shot Don, and I've learned my lesson."

"Okay," Alan said, "we believe you, Charlie. I invited Ben and Maggie over for supper, and I'm going to call Don in a bit and invite him and Liz. I thought we could ride to the museum together. Five of us should fit in Don's SUV, don't you think."

"If he has the windshield fixed by then," Charlie said. "Dad, pass the strawberries?"

Alan handed Charlie the strawberries. "I forgot all about that windshield of his. None of the rest of us has anything big enough..."

"Ben and Maggie have an SUV," Amita said. "I'm sure Ben will be happy to drive. If not, we'll just take a couple of cars."

"Sounds good to me," Alan said. "Say, Ben said he wouldn't accept any money for those tickets, but it said in the paper they're a hundred dollars each."

Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Really? That's a lot for an art show."

"Well," Amita said, "this is probably one of those ritzy receptions with hors d'oeuvre and VIPs."

"I hate those things," Charlie muttered. "I hope we don't have to dress up."

Alan glanced at Charlie's baggy jeans and blue pi tee shirt. "You could probably skip the tuxedo, but you might want to change into a suit before we go."

"Aw, darn. I was going to change into shorts and sandals."

Alan gave Amita a long-suffering glance. "Are you sure you want to get yourself involved with this guy?"

Amita took Charlie's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I like him just the way he is."

Alan chuckled as he started to clear the table. "They say love is blind."

"Not blind," Amita said, kissing Charlie's stubbly cheek. "The good things far outweigh the bad."

"Bad?" Charlie harrumphed. "You're saying you've managed to find something bad?" He stood and picked up their dishes and silverware to take to the kitchen.

Amita shrugged. "I just don't want you getting too sure of yourself."

"Moi? Never!"