So, you guys have been absolutely AMAZING with your reviews already! Thank you so much! :) Now, onto the next chapter, in which I once again own nothing but the O/Cs.

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House bolted awake the next morning, disoriented by both the dream he was having and his unfamiliar surroundings. The smell of coffee was enough to encourage him out of bed to go investigate matters.

He heard voices as he made his way down the narrow hallway, through the living room and into the kitchen, where he was immediately greeted by two bundles of fur with wildly wagging tails.

"Get back here." A twanging voice spoke sharply, and the dogs trotted back to the counter where the man was pouring a cup of coffee. He glanced up and nodded at House. "Mornin'."

House nodded, limping into the kitchen and taking a seat at the kitchen table. The kitchen was cluttered but clean, utilitarian in nature. Obviously if there was a woman in the picture, she wasn't around much.

"You want coffee?" The voice snapped House out of his thoughts.

"Sure." House started to rise from the chair when the man brought a mug and a glass coffee carafe over to the table and set them both near House. "You didn't have to do that."

The man shrugged, a slight smirk crossing his face. It was only then that House noticed the extensive scarring that covered over half his face and extended down his neck, disappearing under his t-shirt.

The smirk disappeared, the man's expression hardening. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"Wasn't staring." House snapped back, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You have some sugar?"

The man nodded, turning toward the counter, and House noticed his awkward gait. It wasn't a limp, exactly, and House guessed that the man was an amputee of some sort. He was surprised at himself that he hadn't noticed any of this the night before. House must have been more tired than he thought.

One of the dogs kept following the man around, practically tracking his every move. The man nearly tripped over him when he set the sugar on the kitchen table.

"Baxter!" He spoke sharply, and the creature whined. The man sighed and scratched the dog's head. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry, boy. You know I can't stay mad at you." He glanced up at House. "I know you told me your name last night, but I can't remember shit anymore."

House was somewhat relieved. He couldn't remember the other man's name, either. "Greg."

"That's right." The man nodded and sipped his coffee. "Should have remembered that."

"No big deal." House answered, stirring in some sugar. "I kind of forgot yours, too."

"Rob." Rob grinned a little as he reached down to pat the dog at his side. "I'm plannin' on headin' into town before too long. Figured we could grab some breakfast before gettin' someone to check out your bike."

House's stomach seemed to rumble in response, and Rob snorted. "Your belly seems to like the idea."

House rolled his eyes and took a drink of his coffee. He heard a click of toenails and felt a tail whacking against his leg, and looked down to see Baxter staring up hopefully at him. "What, the other guy doesn't give you enough attention?"

Rob shook his head. "He's an attention slut. You'd think he'd be a badass, but nope."

House reached down and scratched the dog behind the ears. The dog panted with joy and turned to lick House's hand. "Pit bulls do have a certain reputation."

"He ain't nothin' but a big baby. Probably lick you to death, but that's about it." Rob rose from the table to grab the box of Milk-Bones off the counter, passing it to House. "Go on and give him one."

House took a Milk-Bone out of the box and held it in his open palm. Baxter immediately took it out of his hand and wolfed it down, lying down near House's chair to finish his snack.

Rob chuckled. "You've made a friend for life now. He'll never forget you."

House frowned slightly. "Where's the other one?"

Rob looked around, puzzled. "Must have gone back to sleep. She's gettin' up there, and she ain't so swift in the mornin'. Kind of like her owner."

House smiled thinly at the weak joke, and Rob merely shook his head. "Yeah, I know. Lame." He rose from the table. "I'll be ready whenever you are. Take your time."

"Which is it?" House was baffled.

"I've got a few things to do 'round here, so I'm in no hurry." Rob studied House carefully. "Somethin' tells me it might take you a little time to get ready to go."

House glared at Rob across the table as he pushed himself from his chair. "Not as much time as you'd think." He gestured toward Rob's leg. "I don't have to put on my leg when I get up in the morning."

A baffled expression flashed across Rob's face before he broke into a grin. "You're a sharp one. Gotta hand it to you."

House nodded briefly and started out of the room, hearing the click of dog toenails behind him. He glared down at Baxter. "And I don't need any help from you, either." Over his shoulder he tossed out, "Give me half an hour."

"I'll be here." Rob answered.

House limped heavily down the hall to the small bathroom, wincing slightly with each step. The previous day's ride had taken more out of him than he had anticipated, and he hadn't taken his meds yet that morning, all of which contributed to a more painful awakening than usual.

He distracted himself with thoughts about his dead bike as he showered and dressed. With any luck, Rob would be able to hook him up with someone to get the thing up and running so that he could be on his way.

Both dogs were waiting just outside the door when House opened it, regarding him with as near a hopeful expression as two dogs could make. House reached down to scratch them behind the ears. "You two need to get a life."

He could hear Rob chuckle a little down at the end of the hallway before the other man whistled softly. The dogs seemed to understand the signal, leaving House in favor of investigating what Rob had for them.

House made his way down the hallway as Rob shook out some dry food for the dogs and filled their water bowl. "They should be good to go for a couple hours. You ready?"

"Sure."

House followed Rob out to his small truck, where his bike was still tied down in the bed. The truck had obviously seen better days, riddled with rust spots and small dents.

Rob noticed House giving his truck the once over, and he shrugged as he opened the door and climbed in. "I've had the old girl since high school. Don't really have the heart to get rid of it when it still runs."

House nodded as he heaved himself into the small cab. "You're talking to a guy who still drives around a '94 Dodge. I'm not judging you."

Rob allowed a small smile at that as he started the truck and made his way down the dirt road. "How old's that bike of yours?"

"Not sure." House answered thoughtfully. "I picked it up used a few years ago. It's a damn good bike. I managed to get it up to 145 once."

"Serious?" Rob threw House an incredulous expression. "How the hell did you manage to stay on the damn thing?"

"Sheer force of will." House chuckled a little. "My friend told me it was a miracle that I didn't fly off and end up in a ditch."

He felt a little pang at the mention of Wilson. His friend had given him an earful that day, putting a damper on House's feeling of exhilaration. House hadn't felt so free in years as he had when he had pushed the bike to its limits. When Wilson started chewing his ass for the stunt, it was almost as if he were a child again, listening as his father berated him for some dumb move or another.

House angrily shook off the thought. If ever he needed a reminder of why he had left Princeton behind, that was it.

"You hear me, Greg?" Rob was trying to get his attention.

"What?" House refocused himself on the present.

"I said…I figured I'd stop in for breakfast before we take your bike in. Mike doesn't open the shop until ten."

House nodded in response. He hadn't eaten since a late lunch the previous afternoon. "Sounds like a plan."

Rob pulled into a parking space in front of a line of stores and shut off the truck, easing his way down and making his way toward a small cafe.

The bell over the door rang as they entered, and Rob made a beeline toward one of the stools at the counter. House joined him, grabbing a menu and perusing it briefly.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" A short, stocky woman stopped by with a pot of coffee, and Rob turned over both his mug and House's. "What brings you in here, Rob? And who's this guy?"

"This is Greg. Greg, Marge. She runs this place." Rob explained. "Greg's bike croaked last night out on the road. Figured Mike might be able to take a look at it a little later."

Marge stuck a hand out, and House took it. Her grip was firm, and she shook his hand enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you, Greg. What brings you this way?"

House didn't know how he wanted to explain things. He settled on mild sarcasm. "Got on my bike in Jersey and kept on driving."

"Jersey, huh?" Marge regarded him with interest as she poured coffee. "Kind of a long way from home, aren't you?"

House shrugged. "That's kind of the idea."

Marge frowned in mild confusion and turned to Rob. "Don't know how much help Mike will be. Tyler might be your best shot."

"Hmm." Rob frowned thoughtfully. "When does he get out of school?"

"Three o'clock."

Rob shrugged. "Guess we can at least drop the bike off and pass the word to Mike."

House listened to the exchange while he stirred in sugar and took a sip of his coffee. He wasn't sure he was thrilled about the idea of some kid playing with his bike.

Rob seemed to notice House's expression, and he chuckled slightly. "Don't worry, Tyler's a good kid. He's been tearing apart and putting back together ATVs almost since he could hold a wrench. Your bike'll be in good hands."

"I guess it doesn't matter, as long as I can get back on the road." House told him.

"We'll get you there, don't worry." Rob answered. "You got someone you should contact? Should be able to get a signal here."

House debated the idea before rejecting it. Instead he shook his head and stared down into his coffee cup. "No. No one."

A look of concern flashed across Rob's heavily scarred face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He simply shrugged and returned to his menu, flagging down Marge to place his order.

Soon Marge set down their plates in front of them, and the two men ate in silence. While they were eating, a younger woman carrying a small child on her hip crossed behind the counter.

Rob seemed to catch House's look of curiosity, and he gestured with his fork. "That's Caroline, and the little squirt with her is Kieran. She usually works the lunch shift."

House nodded, observing the petite brunette as she stopped to chat with the cook. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before moving on, and House was a little baffled by the cook's lack of reaction. He gestured toward the cook with his coffee cup. "What's the story there?"

Rob's expression turned dark, and his eyes shifted toward his plate. "That's her worthless piece of shit husband."

"Don't hold back." House commented. "Tell me what you really think."

Rob's head snapped up, an angry expression crossing his features. "He's been in and out of jail 'cause he can't seem to keep his hands off her. She keeps takin' him back…" He shook his head. "Never mind. Ain't my business anyway."

Marge dropped the bill off, and Caroline suddenly appeared beside her. "Hey, baby!" She squeezed the younger woman and took the little boy from Caroline's arms. "And how's my little man today?"

The boy giggled shyly and buried himself in Marge's shoulder. Marge let out a hearty laugh. "Come on now, don't play shy now. Say hello to Rob and…"

"Greg." House supplied.

"Greg." Marge reiterated. "Now be a good boy and say hello."

Kieran turned his head and waved shyly before quickly turning back to Marge. "I don't know what's wrong with him today. He's normally so friendly."

"It's fine, Mom." Caroline suddenly spoke up. "We've gotta go anyway. He's getting his first haircut today."

Marge brushed Kieran's towheaded bangs out of his eyes. "He don't need a haircut. He's just perfect as he is."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Kevin insists. You know."

Marge let out a 'hmph' in response, but didn't comment further, passing Kieran back to Caroline. Caroline fixed her with a sharp look. "Not a word."

"Didn't say nothin'." Marge answered sharply as she dropped a little kiss on Kieran's temple. "You be good for your mama, baby boy. I'll see you later."

Caroline flashed Rob and House a quick smile and a nod as she breezed out nearly as quickly as she had breezed in. Marge merely shook her head as she picked up the cash that Rob and House had set down. "I just don't get that girl."

Rob chuckled darkly. "You're the one that raised her."

"I raised her better than that." Marge snapped.

"You raised her to be an independent girl, Marge." Rob sighed and drained his mug. "Means she makes her own decisions. Doesn't mean she makes the right ones."

He rose from the stool, and House moved to follow. They were soon back in the truck, and House couldn't help but notice Rob's changed mood.

"So what's your story?" House finally asked him.

"What do you mean?" Rob asked.

House huffed irritably. "I'm not an idiot. Something's up between you and that Caroline woman."

Rob snorted as he pulled into the repair shop. "Ain't nothin'." He paused thoughtfully after he shut off the truck. "Why the hell would a woman want to keep going back to some jackass that…" He shook his head. "Ain't my business. Ain't my business at all."

House knew there was much more going on than Rob was revealing, but he knew better than to poke his nose in. It wasn't as if he was going to be around long enough to get to know anyone anyway.

He followed Rob into the small lobby of the repair shop. Country music blared from a radio that sat on the back counter. There was no one in sight.

Rob hit the button on the counter, and a shrill sound rang out throughout the shop. One of the mechanics lifted his head, ambling toward the door that separated the garage and the lobby, wiping his hands on a rag as he did so.

"What's up, Rob?" The man asked casually.

"Nothin' much, Mike." Rob hitched a thumb toward House. "Need a bike looked at."

Mike frowned. "Don't know if I can squeeze you in. One of my guys called in, and I'm already backed up." He glanced at House. "Who's that?"

"This is Greg." Rob introduced the two men. "Greg, Mike."

"Good to meet you, Greg." Mike reached out and shook House's hand. "Sorry 'bout the mess."

House shrugged casually. "When do you think you'll get to my bike?"

"Maybe this afternoon." Mike answered. "You got somewhere you need to be?"

"Not really." House replied. "It's just…you know, the sooner the better."

"I hear you." Mike nodded. "My boy comes into the shop right after school. He lives for working on that stuff."

House was still skeptical of the idea of letting some kid play with his bike, but nodded. "Good enough, I guess."

"Y'all can leave it right out front and drop off the keys." Mike told them. "You got a way for us to contact you?"

"Just call the house." Rob told him. "Cell service ain't as reliable as it could be out at my place."

Mike chuckled. "Maybe if you didn't live out in the goddamn boonies…"

"I like it out there." Rob answered harshly.

Mike seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. "I'll call you when Tyler looks it over."

Rob nodded, turning and leaving so quickly that he nearly left House behind. House limped furiously to catch up.

"Defensive much?" House snarked as Rob climbed into the bed of the truck to untie the bike.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Rob snapped, furiously undoing the tiedowns and rolling the bike toward the end of the truck bed. "Here, grab the bike."

House hooked his cane over the edge of the truck bed and limped over to the bike while Rob climbed down. The other man took hold of the bike and nodded to House, and they managed to get the bike down. House rolled it into a parking space and returned to the office to drop off the keys.

Mike was still behind the counter, hunting and pecking his way through something on the computer. He spotted House, acknowledging him with a brief nod. "Go on and fill this out."

House scanned over the form and filled it out, passing it back to Mike. The other man let out a low whistle at House's address. "New Jersey, huh? What the hell are you doing way down here?"

House huffed irritably, and Mike waved his hand. "Don't mind me. I'm just nosy. You on vacation?"

"You could say that."

Mike nodded. "How'd you meet Rob? He don't hardly ever leave that house anymore."

"He stopped and picked me up when the bike died." House explained.

"Huh." Mike frowned as he inputed House's information. "That ain't like him at all. He don't care for folks much." He shook his head. "Anyway, I'll have Tyler call Rob's place. He gets off school at three, so he should be able to take a look at your bike right after. We'll get you up, running, and on your way before too long."

"Thanks." House nodded in response before leaving the shop.

Rob was leaning against the driver's side of the truck when House came out, shifting uncomfortably. "Ready?"

"All set." House answered, climbing into the passenger side.

The ride back to Rob's was silent, save for the country music that played softly from the radio. When Rob pulled in, he nearly left House behind to get into the house, snapping the dogs' leads on them to let them out.

By the time House caught up to him, Rob was already seated on the couch, jeans leg pulled up to the knee while he undid his prosthetic and tossed it aside. He pulled off the stocking, revealing an angry red stump that he rubbed vigorously.

House eased himself into the armchair, the doctor in him noticing the scarring that dotted the stump. "You need to get that looked at."

"Ain't nothin' to look at." Rob snapped. "The goddamn thing always rubs when I'm on it too long."

"Looks like you've rubbed the damn thing raw." House snapped back. "You want it to get infected?"

"What the fuck are they going to do if it does?" Rob asked wearily. "Cut it off? Been there and done that, Greg." He shifted so that he lay down on the couch, waving a hand casually. "Remote's on the coffee table. I'm going to have a lay down."

Rob turned away from House before House could respond. House picked up the remote and started flipping through channels, turning over the morning's events in his mind.

There was far more to Rob's story, House was sure of that. House wasn't sure why he felt the need to analyze the other man. It wasn't as if he was going to be around here long enough for it to matter anyway.

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