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]

Emerson gave Eliot a short nod. "Son." He glanced down at the dog with a raised eyebrow, then looked back up. "You going to invite me in?"

[vdistinctive]

Eliot had been a resident of Fandom long enough now to have a reasonable idea what this was. He'd dreamed about his father this week, sure, but he'd passed it off as residual stress from nearly losing his own kid. Having the man standing on his stoop in the flesh gave those dreams a whole new significance, though.

Still, he hadn't lived as long as he had without being cautious.

"There a reason I shouldn't?"

[vdisappointed]

Emerson sighed and looked away. "I deserved that," he admitted. "I ain't here for a fight, though. I only got 48 hours --"

[vdistinctive]

"-- Before the stone kicks you back to the afterlife, yeah, Pop, I know the deal."

Like the narrative had said, he'd done this a time or two before.

[vdisappointed]

"Dammit, boy, you wanna --" Emerson cut himself off with his own version of Eliot's signature growl. "-- I just said I ain't here to fight. Now, you gonna let me make my last amends here, or what?"

[vdistinctive]

"Fine." Eliot stepped aside, nudging Val along with his foot. "Come on in then, I guess. But you piss off any of my people here, Pop, and the stone ain't even gonna have to wait on you. I'll kick you back to the afterlife myself."

[vdisappointed]

Emerson snorted. "You'll try. You ain't too big to bend over my knee, boy, and don't you forget it." He smiled down at Val. "Hey there, Poochy. Ain't you a fine-lookin' hound. My son been treating you right?"

[vdistinctive]

"Her name's Val," Eliot said, half-grump and half-proud. She was a fine-looking hound! "And I do my best, for all Hardison and Parker spoil her."

[vdisappointed]

Emerson looked up at the name of his son's -- friends -- but bit his tongue. "She don't look a bit spoiled to me. House isn't half bad, either." He offered Eliot a small smile. "You've done well for yourself."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot actually blushed at that.

"I -- uh. Rebuilt the place myself, actually."

[vdisappointed]

"You don't say!" Emerson rapped on the nearby wall with his knuckles thoughtfully. "Guess all those hours I 'forced' you to work in the shop weren't a total waste after all, huh."

[vdistinctive]

The proud look faded right back off Eliot's face. His father had never known when to stop.

"Was just starting dinner. I'll grab you a beer."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Yo, Eliot," Hardison said, coming into the room with a laptop tucked under one arm and a pair of headphones around his neck. "I heard the door, who's--oh."

Guess who had just spotted Emerson. His easy grin faded and turned into a sigh. "That time of year again?"

[vdistinctive]

"Seems like," Eliot said. "He said he'd be good."

Eliot didn't sound like he believed it.

[vdisappointed]

"Ah, hello again -- young man."

Yeah, Emerson didn't remember Hardison's name at all. Even though Eliot had just said it. He wasn't proud of that fact, but he did think he should get some allowances for having just come back from the dead.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"You sure you don't wanna just skip to callin' me 'boy'?" Hardison asked, pursing his lips.

So, nope, didn't look like there were any allowances to be found here. But, hey. Emerson wouldn't have wanted a handout anyway.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Folks say a lot of things," Hardison noted. "It's more in the doin' than the sayin' if you ask me."

He paused. "You told Parker yet?"

She probably wouldn't react kindly to a strange man in the house.

[vdisappointed]

"Why would I do that? You're full-grown, ain't ya?"

Was his son robbing the cradle as well as living in miscegenation and sin?

[vdistinctive]

"He just showed up," Eliot said. "Told him I'd kick him out if he pissed you two off."

He said 'back to the afterlife', to be specific, but still.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

It was a sad, sad day when the racists didn't even recognize their own terminology. Hardison nearly shook his head and tsked. "Yes," he said mildly. "Thank you for noticing. My name is Hardison."

There were a lot of potential followups to that statement:
You'll be able to remember that name by how your son is screaming it later.
But you can call me 'sir.'
But I respond to Mr. Spencer, too.
Hardison didn't say any of them, but those and several others flickered through his brain, one after another.

He didn't offer his hand.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"We settin' a timer for how soon that happens, then?" Hardison grumbled under his breath, so only Eliot would hear him.

[vdistinctive]

"You want to start a pool?" Eliot asked at the same volume. He reached over to give Hardison's hand a firm squeeze.

He was always going to be on his partners' sides, but he had to at least give Emerson a chance. He was a his dad. And the last thing Eliot had done with the man was argue.

[vdisappointed]

"Hardison," Emerson said with a nod. There, see, he would have remembered a normal name! "Nice to see you again. You can call me Emerson. I'm -- sorry about how we left it, last time."

He even mostly meant that. Or at least thought he did.

[geniuswithasmartphone]

And while Hardison wasn't above sniping at Emerson, he would never deny Eliot that chance. Family was hard and family was complicated, and Hardison got that.

So he squeezed right back, silently offering Eliot love and - more importantly - support. "Nah," he said. "Parker'll just steal the money."

[geniuswithasmartphone]

"Well, glad to see you don't still half-think I'm here to run a con on you," Hardison said, dropping down onto a chair across from the older man. "Hope this extra time means you're ready to see what Eliot's become, instead of just what you've assumed."