geniuswithasmartphone | 75 Godiva Street, Thanksgiving Day, Thursday Afternoon

It was Thanksgiving! The house smelled amazing too, like roasting turkey and sage and simmering apple cider and baking pies. Eliot had outdone himself in the kitchen this year, whipping up the creamiest mashed potatoes, the fluffiest stuffing, and even the crispiest egg rolls Hardison had ever seen. His own contribution was a platter of the croissant-variety Hot Pockets in various flavors.

Look, his TA had requested them and he was gonna provide, dammit.

Now they were finishing up the last few dishes, setting the table, and preparing for a delicious Thanksgiving meal. Not every member of their assorted families could be here today, but every person who was here was family in their own way. For Hardison, found family was infinitely more precious than people just related by blood. Each person had chosen to be here, to be part of this, and--

Shut up, he wasn't getting all misty-eyed. It was the dust. It got all up in his allergies.

[Up super-early I know, but holiday-related SP expected in a big way and also timezones! Sorry to anyone confused, but this post is definitely set for Thursday, Thanksgiving.]

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If Hardison felt it was weird for Dante to be here, his smile didn't suggest it. "Sup, Dante," Hardison greeted, holding his knuckles out for a tap. "An', yo, it'd probably be easier listin' off what we ain't eatin'. I think Eliot emptied out three grocery stores worth of food for this."

You had to answer an offered fistbump. It was only polite. So Dante, super-polite boy that he was, did just that.

"I wanna say he needs to chill out, but if it means more food, I'm good with that."

"Tryna tell Eliot to chill out about food is like tryna tell Parker not to lift diamonds," Hardison said, shaking his head fondly. "Sure, you could, but it ain't worth the effort. Plus in the end, food."

Beat.

"An' diamonds, technically."

"...Which you can sell for more food, I guess."

Dante hadn't the faintest clue what the hell to do with a diamond.

"Aww, hell no," Hardison said with a quick shake of his head. "Nobody touches Parker's diamonds. I like not gettin' stabbed with forks. Or tased."

Was he being serious? Was he just messing with Dante? Who knew?

(Serious, he was being totally serious).

"Parker just likes collectin' diamonds. She uses 'em to decorate the tree for Christmas?" There was an audible shrug in his voice. Hardison had loved Parker for years, but that didn't mean he always understood her.

"She steals diamonds to put them in Christmas trees," Dante said dubiously. "Okay. Guess that's a hobby."

"She steals diamonds cause she's a thief and they're shiny," Hardison said. "She puts 'em up in Christmas trees just because she really, really loves Christmas."

...Hardison was starting to get the feeling that Kathy hadn't exactly briefed Dante on the crew's past lives before bringing him to dinner. Hoo boy.

"Don't really get the point of stealing shit just because it's shiny, but all right," Dante said.

He didn't actually care enough.

Of course he didn't.

"That's a'ight, I don't entirely get it, either," Hardison said with a shrug. "But it makes her happy, so I don't worry 'bout it much."

"Until the cops come down, I guess," Dante said. "You hang with Kathy a lot?"

"Less Kathy an' more Raven," Hardison said. "We geek out about nerd stuff sometimes, an' that's about it. But Eliot thinks of Kathy as his kid, you know? An' Parker loves her, too. So she's family."

"Yeah, I know. He adopted her," Dante said. It still didn't make much sense to him, but he knew enough to know his experience was different here.

What wasn't to get?

"Unofficially, anyway." Hardison shrugged. "In fairness, though, he's been wantin' to do that since he punched out her dad that time."

"He punched out her dad? Did that happen while I was here?"

"Yeah," Hardison said with a nod. "I think so?"

He wasn't entirely sure what year Dante had shown up.

"Then twisted his arm 'round his back an' pushed him into the counter cause he didn't like the way he was talkin' to Kathy. I think Sarah was strugglin' not to applaud."

75 Godiva Street, Thanksgiving Day, Thursday Afternoon

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