75 Godiva, Friday evening

[vdistinctive]

Eliot had been taking it easy since getting back from LA. For all his bluster and insistence on avoiding formalized medical care -- be it hospitals or magical healing -- he knew how to take time to give his body what it needed. And after the number that the mad doctor had managed to do, both with his fists and the whole "blowing up" thing, Eliot's body had needed a lot.

So he'd laid low, making good use of ice packs and analgesics, and lots and lots of cuddle time, either with his partners or with his dog. Not that he would ever, ever use that term out loud.

He was just pulling his "cook and convalesce" stool up to the counter to get started on dinner for the evening (and yeah, it was maybe a little sad that he had a stool specifically for that purpose, but it wasn't like he was going to not cook), when he heard a quiet but firm knock on the door.

. . . That was a very distinctive knock.

"I got it," he called. Val trotted up to the door with him, ears pricked at her person's sudden discomfiture. Eliot paused at the door to steel himself, only for the knock to come again, more insistently this time. He rolled back his shoulders, shook out his hair, and eased the door open.

"Heya Pop."

[for the family, please]

Comments

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"That's our girl," Hardison said fondly. "Whatcha makin' for dinner?" he asked. "Or is that kiboshed by dint of guest an' we should think about takeout?"

[vdistinctive]

"I dunno, man. I ain't real excited to feed him." Emerson was one of those men who thought women did the cooking unless it involved an outdoor grill. "But I was kinda lookin' forward to putting something together."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

For Hardison that was plenty reason for Eliot to put together a damn feast.

"I mean, I'm willin' to serve us all Hot Pockets instead," he offered, figuring that would help Eliot decide what to do.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot gave him -- well, the usual look he gave Hardison when the topic of Hot Pockets arose -- but he couldn't hang onto it. He broke into a rueful grin and pulled Hardison into a sideways hug.

"You know, that's real damn tempting. Any of those suckers have anything resembling steak in 'em?"

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"You mean the delicious steak an' cheddar cheese ones I picked up?" Hardison asked, heading to the freezer. "The dough's got, like, rosemary or somethin' worked into it. See? Fancy!"

[vdistinctive]

"If it was decent steak, it wouldn't need cheese," Eliot said. ". . . But yeah, that's probably fine for him."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Fine, but I'm gettin' the most freezer-burned one I can find," Hardison grumbled. "An' I'mma let it defrost on the counter awhile so the dough gets all tough an' chewy."

Never let it be said that Hardison couldn't do petty.

[vdistinctive]

Eliot winced at that. "Now c'mon. I ain't feedin' him anything inedible. He is still a guest in our house, man."

Apparently, he wasn't quite so able to handle food-based pettiness.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"An' next time we're arguin' over which one of us is the better man, I'mma just remind you of this conversation," Hardison said with a fond chuckle.

Whatever he thought of the father, he loved the son with everything in him.

[Hey, guess who failed to hit post!]