What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

The Leverage team had been in Fandom more than long enough to know exactly what came after the school prom. Eliot's anticipation of seeing Spike and Gracie again had been tempered by his dread over whatever fresh hell of a revelation of his alternate selves' sex lives. He'd already met a daughter some version of him had had with Sterling, for chrissake, but he knew better to think the island couldn't somehow top that.

But Saturday morning had come and gone, and no "you don't get to be with your partners in my universe" child arrived to taunt him. And it turned out, spending time with a couple kids who belonged to all three of them was really nice.

He leaned back on the couch with his coffee, a giant spread of brunch foods arranged on the coffee table, the end tables, and pretty much every other flat surface not currently occupied by a piece of Hardison's tech (yeah, Eliot lost that battle before it ever began), and watched as Hardison finished setting up a video link to Kathy. Parker was perched on the back of the couch next to him, her knee touching his shoulder, looking about as happy and relaxed as he'd ever seen her, and not just because her mouth was full of chocolate cereal. The kids were sprawled on either side of them, teasing and poking each other in a way that reminded Eliot so much of himself and Trudy as kids it almost hurt. Somehow, after everything, he'd still managed to end up with a family. A large one, even. He could get used to this.

He bit his lip thoughtfully, and took a long sip of his coffee.

Maybe he should start taking steps to make sure he got the chance.

[for the fam, and slow play. AU KIDS!]

Eliot had handwavily spent the week looking up tips for teaching guitar. He was self-taught, himself -- other than the tips he'd gotten from Kaye-Lynn during his very brief tenure as a country music sensation -- and it was a skill he'd picked up young enough that he didn't 100% remember how he'd gone about it. It was good to review some of the bare basics for himself, and besides, it'd been forever since he and Kathy had had their regular teaching sessions. He'd rather missed them.

He'd picked up a fancy auto-tuner so they wouldn't have to spend their whole first lesson on tuning by ear -- they could cover that later -- and a variety of beginners chord books in different musical styles, since he wasn't sure yet what kind of music she'd want to play. Probably not the early American standards or country-western classics that he'd first learned. Though he'd probably try to sneak some Hank Williams or Johnny Cash in there somewhere.

He was, in fact, warming up with some Johnny Cash while he waited for Kathy to arrive. He really had been everywhere, after all.

[ooc: for Kathy and the partners, though if anyone else has a burning desire to visit, that's okay too]

Eliot didn't sleep nearly as much as Parker and Hardison did, so he was pretty used to being up before they were, getting coffee ready and sorting through his fridge for what to make for breakfast. He'd've been perfectly happy to stay in bed and just stare at his partners and make sure they were still there, but whatever the aliens had been using to sustain them all over the week hadn't really been much more than minimal, and Eliot was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who'd be waking up today starving.

He may have stuck comms on everyone so he could still hear them the whole time, though.

It was weird being in his kitchen without Val sitting at his feet in her eternally frustrated hope for scraps (eternally frustrated from him, anyway, he was pretty sure she still did it because Hardison and Parker were sneaking her things), but Kathy had texted the night before to let him know that her little sister had been taking care of the puppy, and that Kathy was going to keep her in the dorms for one more night. Considering how much time he and the others had spent yesterday in constant physical contact, Eliot could guess why Kathy wanted to keep a nice, warm, happy puppy around for the night, so he didn't insist. He was used to getting shot at and nearly killed, after all, and what had happened in that sim --

Eliot's hand spasmed around his knife and he dropped in to the cutting board and stepped back, leaning his weight into his hands on the counter and just breathing through it as the image of Kathy silhouetted in the doorway ran through his head. He kept his head down a moment longer once the scene finished playing out in his memory, then straightened up, stretched his fingers, and got back to chopping.

He'd have to watch out for that for a little while.

[ooc: for those in the house and the one stopping by -- and anyone else who might decide to drop in and visit. Note: linked thread contains violence and simulated death.]