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

[vdisappointed]

"Easy mode," Emerson said. "You think anything about being a father is easy? Or is it comin' back from the dead that you think is some kind of walk in the park? Now I'll cop to havin' some old-fashioned views on certain things. My granddaughters made that perfectly clear to me that that was something I needed to work on. But there's a world of difference between being an ass to someone 'cause of their parentage, or what they do in the bedroom, and having some trepidation because it turns out your child is a murderer."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Bruh, you woke up next to a rock and wandered down some stairs," Hardison said. "You wouldn't believe the stuff this island throws at us. An' more than once, I've been grateful for the skills your boy has picked up because they've saved us more'n once. Saved a lot more than just the three of us, too."

He shook his head and rubbed his face. "You think it don't sometimes bug me, what Eliot used to do? We just had a huge fight over it. But the thing you ain't realizin'? How much he's grown. How do you judge a man? By who he is at his lowest? Or how high he climbs afterwards?"

[vdisappointed]

"Oh, so he's stopped murdering. Well, that makes it all better."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Yo, if this is how you're gonna be to him, there's the door," Hardison said, jerking his thumb towards the front of the room. "I'll even pay for your hotel room which you can stay in until that rock calls you home."

If Emerson had no interest in seeing how Eliot had turned his life around, what he'd done with it, then Hardison saw no point in putting up with him otherwise.

[vdisappointed]

Emerson bristled, but forced himself to relax, reminding himself he was dead now, he could afford to rise above the uppity-ness.

"I am here to listen to what my son has to say," he said, using the same soft, even tone that from Eliot meant there were whole universes of feeling happening on the inside. "If that includes him kicking me out of his house, well. I can't say as that wouldn't be fair."

Since he'd kicked Eliot out of his, and all.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

That sounded a lot like Emerson was here so Eliot could explain himself. Hardison raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. If that was the case, he'd have Parker distract Eliot long enough to throw Emerson out on his literal ear.

"Well, that's mighty--" white "--kind of you," he drawled. "I'm sure Eliot will be thrilled to know that you're willin' to abide by what he decides to do in his own home."

[vdisappointed]

"Well then, I'm glad we're in agreement." Emerson was tired of this conversation. "He said he was working on dinner?"

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison smirked a little. "Yeah," he said. "Probably shouldn't take much longer, neither."

If Emerson didn't recognize the insult when it was served on a platter to him, that wasn't Hardison's problem.