#so i just skimmed off that and am crossing my fingers that my dad/aunts are actually going to come through with their portion

[bitchfitch]

i went to buy tile for the bathroom today, and i will admit i have some Niche tastes apparently, but i had gone to a big box store with the samples i got from them months ago, and what used to be a 5 dollar a sqft tile was now 17 $ a sqft. The Uber cheap tile i had picked out because it was like, 90¢ a sqft? discontinued and replaced with a nearly identical 3$ a sqft variety.

I changed my plans and got different tiles but i still had to spend almost twice as much as i had originally budgeted for (and had to drive to another town to get them) and the Entire time i was there i was thinking about my special hand painted and imported Talavera tiles I'd bought a few square feet of months ago for the little niche inlet, and the fact that those were now only 3$ a square foot more expensive than the shit land lord grade subway tiles id gone to the store for today.

economy bad.

[wordscorrupt]

Iron Dad Secret Santa

Here is my gift for @garbotuesday for the @irondadsecretsanta event! I hope you enjoy this!

Link to the fic AO3!

~~~~~

The fifth one this week.

Mildred thought to herself noticing the scrawny teen enter the lobby of her motel. He was drenched to the bone and she watched as he took a few moments to shake off the excess water, before realizing he was creating a puddle of mess on the floor. In an instant, wide, forgiving eyes looked up at her and before the boy could stammer out an apology, Mildred motioned him forward with a pudgy finger.

The young teen walked over to the desk, timid and afraid. She offered the most reassuring smile she could before leaning in, resting her arms on the counter. “What can I do for you, hon?”

“I – uh – I need a place to stay, ma’am,” The boy said through chattering teeth. He sniffled, running a shivering hand beneath his nose.

She tried not to frown. “I see, hon. For how many nights?”

The boy swallowed, reaching into one of the pockets of his soaked, tattered jacket. A moment later he pulled out a few crumpled and torn bills. She watched as the boy took a careful glance at the sign placed on the counter, stating the 59.95 per night rate. He bit his lip, starting to count the meager amount of money in his hands.

Heart aching, she reached out, gently grabbing at his wrist. Too thin. He jumped, tightening his grip around the money and holding it close to his chest, as if she intended to snatch it away from him.

She loosened her grip, giving off the most reassuring smile she could, hoping it would put him at ease. His eyes darted around the lobby, most likely eyeing an escape.

She took a deep breath before saying, “I asked how many nights, sweetheart, not how much money you had. Don’t worry about that for right now. You just tell me how long you need a place to stay for, darling.”

The boy glanced from the door back to her. She noticed the tears at the corner of the boy’s eyes and the sadness behind them only demonstrated just a little of the pain he must being going through.

“Just a couple days, ma’am. Please.”

Mildred patted his hand softly, pulling back to grab one of the keys on the board behind her. “Let’s start with a week, honey and go from there, okay? Room thirty-two. Free breakfast served from 6 am to 9 am.”

The boy’s eyes widened at the information and Mildred couldn’t ignore the loud grumble coming from his stomach. She hobbles around the counter, carefully approaching the boy.

“Let’s get you settled into your room, hon. A shower would do you good as well and in the meanwhile, I’ll whip up a meal for you.”

The teen shook his head, stammering, “You don’t have to do that. I’ve got snacks.” He motioned towards the bag in his hands, unconsciously pulling it closer to his side.

Mildred eyed the tattered duffle bag in his hands and fought the urge to wrap the boy in her arms.

She smiled, showcasing her tired wrinkles. “Which you can save for later. No arguments now. Shower, meal and sleep.”

The teen offered her the tiniest hint of a smile which was more than she could have asked for that night.

A few hours later, after her new resident was settled in for the night, Mildred had been reading her book when the bell above her door chimed once more. She glanced up.

Now, this is interesting.

While this was a relatively small town and her, herself, being a relatively simple woman, she still had no trouble recognizing the rather frantic man in her motel lobby.

Tony Stark made a beeline towards her counter, face etched with a mixture of panic and determination. She set her book off to the side and straightened herself up in her chair, her spine disapproving of the action.

“And what can I do for you, sir?” She asked, crossing her arms in front of her, trying to convey as much calmness as possible while internally all her signals were set off.

“There’s a boy here. Peter. Peter Parker. Short, skinny. H-he’s got black, curly hair. He must have checked in a few hours ago. You have to tell me which room he’s in,” He replied, voice rough and scratchy.

Mildred mouth formed into a tight line and she had to bite her tongue. She was used to her establishment being used for certain unvirtuous gatherings but it was mostly kept to the middle-class men deep into their midlife crisis who were able to snatch up the girl offering the cheapest price.

She certainly was not used to billionaires and especially those that toyed with being a superhero on the side.

She slid off her chair, standing straight and pointed a finger into the man’s face.

“You listen to me right now, Stark. I don’t know what plan on doing with that poor young boy but it ain’t happening. You’re better off turning around and walking out this door right now and I can forget this ever happened,” She spatted out.

Stark shook his head, fumbling around in one of his coat pockets as he replied, “No, please! He’s – he’s not – you have it wrong!”

She watched as the man pulled out his phone, frantically skimmed through it and a moment later he shoved the device into her face. She took a step back before being met with another version of the boy standing her lobby just a few hours earlier. He’s standing next to Stark, who has an arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulders, holding him close. They are grinning widely, holding up a framed certificate.

Stark took a deep breath and explained, “He’s one of my interns. His aunt just died. I’ve been trying to track him down for days. Please. I know he’s here and I know he’s scared. He needs me.”

Mildred swallowed heavily, her thoughts racing through her mind. She was not a naive woman by any means, but there had been times that others have gotten the best of her before. And while Stark could be one of those people, deep down she knew he was telling the truth.

She sighed deeply before nodding her head. “Room thirty-two.”

~~~~

The second the door to the motel room opens and Tony sees Peter standing there, he fights the urge to collapse into tears.

“M-mister Stark?” Peter stammer out and before he gets another chance to bolt, Tony steps forward and wraps his arms around the teen, pressing his face into the curls. He takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself in reality, facing the fact that his kid was back in his arms. He hears the unmistakable sound of Peter sobs and tightens his hold, pressing a kiss to his head. He thinks he might never let go of him.

“Jesus Christ, Peter. Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have any idea the hell I’ve been in these past couple of days?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he curses himself. Peter had gone through worse. Much worse than him. The kid had been dragged to hell and back, over and over.

He hears Peter trying to sputter out an apology and shushes the kid gently. “It’s okay, bud. It’s okay. Just thank God, you’re okay.”

Peter wraps his arms around him, crying into his chest and Tony presses another kiss to his head.

He doesn’t know how long they stand near the entrance of the room but eventually, he peels the teen off of him in order to take a good look at him. He gently cups the kid’s face with both hands, using his thumbs to wipe away his tears. He feels the heat radiating off Peter’s skin and listens to the wheezing coming from his chest. It’s no surprise the teen has fallen sick after wandering around in the frigid air for the past week.

“Come here, kiddo.” Tony pulls the kid back into his arms. Peter shivers slightly as he leans in to Tony’s side. Tony doesn’t hesitate before guiding the teen back to bed, helping him get settled underneath the covers before crouching down beside him. Peter stares back at him with wide, pleading eyes that are swollen and red from crying.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers as Tony begins to thread his fingers through the boy’s tangled mess of curls, trying to gently ease out some of the knots.

“Shh, none of that right now, bud. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me. I should have been there for you and I wasn’t.”

Peter shakes his head, bottom lip trembling as he replies, “You were out of the country. You couldn’t have known.”

“Phones exist, kiddo, and somewhere along the way I failed to teach you that you can always reach out to me for anything.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before Peter lets out a loud sob. “I was s-so scared.”

Tony crawls up onto the bed and a moment later he’s cradling the boy in his arms.

“She was gone. Just like that. A-and they wouldn’t let me see her. I begged and they still wouldn’t. They tried to make me go with them but I couldn't. I just couldn't,” Peter cries, voice stuttering and raspy.

Whoever they were, Tony was going to rip them into shreds.

Tony rocks Peter in his arms, murmuring, “Easy, kiddo. I know it’s hard, but I need to you relax a little. You’re already having trouble breathing.” He gently rubs circles on the kid’s back, hoping to ease the tension in his muscles. He wants nothing more to get Peter back home with him, but the last thing his kid needs is to be whisked away in the middle of the night. From his best guess, this was the first solid bed Peter would be sleeping on in days.

Tony gets lost in his thoughts and when he glances back down at Peter, the kid is tucked into his chest, sound asleep. He lets out a deep sigh of relief, before tightening his grip and continuing to rock him gently through the night.

~~~~~

The next morning, Mildred watches out her lobby windows, holding her breath as Stark leads the child to his car.

The boy looks worse for wear, with a pale sickly face accompanied by dark circles under his eyes but he's at least in clean, dry clothes. He has to stop walking for a moment when he begins to cough and needs to catch his breath but Stark is there holding him close and rubbing his back. She watched as Stark help him into the passenger seat, tucking a blanket around him before buckling his seatbelt in. She sees him press a kiss to the side of the boy’s head before turning around. Before she knows it, he’s heading towards her and she scrambles behind her counter. She takes a seat right as he steps into the lobby, greeting with a smile.

“Peter told me you didn’t make him pay anything last night,” He says while pulling out his wallet. Before Mildred can say anything he pulls out a check and holds it out to her close enough for her to read the amount and her eyes widen.

“That is too much,” She says with a shake of her head, backing away slightly.

Stark huffs out a laugh, licking his lips before saying, “I have the wildest idea Peter isn’t the only lost kid out there you’ve helped out. Consider this a donation to your cause. Please. It’s the least I can do.” He places the check on the counter and she shakes her head once again, this time in disbelief.

“Thank you,” She whispers, grabbing the check and carefully tucking it into her pocket.

“No, thank you. If you hadn’t taken him in last night, I don’t know where he’d be now.”

She glances behind him, to the car where Peter is settled in. She smiles softly before stating, “Promise to take good care of that child from now on Stark.”

“Trust me, that’s a promise I’ll never break.”

[geekeryandsentiment]

Hey! I hope you’re doing fine! I’m sending a few, see if any of these work for you 😄 1- Liam and “you’re embarrassing me.” 2- Alby and “that’s gross.” 3- Arthur and “you should have thought about that.” Have a great weekend!

1- Liam and “you’re embarrassing me.”

“Liz,” William almost hissed the words, using every ounce of self control in him to refrain from swatting her hand away from him. He felt his cheeks burn as his little sister continued to make kissing faces while his girlfriend’s back was turned. “Liz. Lizzie. Kitty. Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her chest, “what do you mean? I’m not trying to!” Her lips curled into a small smirk as she raised an eyebrow to give him a faux questioning look.

William’s jaw clenched as he stepped forward, wrapping his hand around his little sister’s upper arm and dragging her a few steps away from his girlfriend who was distracted by a conversation with his dad. “Stop. Stop it.” He held up his free hand, leaning forward to put his face closer to hers, “don’t look at me like that. Stop it. We are in public. Lily is nervous. I am nervous. There are cameras everywhere. And if you don’t stop taunting me I’m going to make sure your life is hell for however long it takes for the press to stop reporting on your bratty attitude.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as William’s expression darkened the longer he spoke. “Shut up, stupid,” she shrugged her shoulder, pulling her arm away from his grip.

“Leave me alone,” William’s expression grew almost pleading, “just go…I don’t know! Walk with Alex! Or find Matty. He’s around here somewhere. You can torment Lily and I when we get back to the palace.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Elizabeth’s arms crossed. “I’m just talking to her.”

William bit back a hostile reply, wanting nothing more than to bring up all the things that he could just talk to his girlfriend about that would embarrass and mortify his little sister. Before he could threaten her with any embarrassing stories, though, Waverly entered his line of sight, pulling his attention away from his little sister.

“Mum,” William pointed at his little sister as the older woman approached them, a questioning look on her face. “Tell Lizzie to leave Lily and I alone. Please.”

“Lizzie,” Waverly’s voice wasn’t chiding, but it didn’t leave any room for debate, “why don’t you go ask your aunt if she wants a break from holding Lucas? Hmm? Maybe you can help feed hi before he goes down for a nap?”

William breathed out a sigh of relief when an excited smile spread across his little sister’s face and she disappeared, running off to steal their baby cousin away from their aunt.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to Waverly, spinning on his heel and making his way back over to his girlfriend, fully intending to save her from whatever God-awful conversation she was probably stuck having with his dad.

2- Alby and “that’s gross.”

Alexander leaned forward, his nose almost touching Elaina’s as she continued to speak, her voice growing quieter.

“–and that’s really hardly an excuse. I don’t think he should be allowed to run again if…if he’s…he’s been so very corrupt…and…” Elaina trailed off, her eyes dropping to Alexander’s lips, almost looking cross-eyed for a few moments. “You have cookie crumbs on your lips.”

“Do I?” Alexander raised a brow, “are you sure? Maybe you should check?”

Elaina huffed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she heard her boyfriend’s chuckle in response to his terribly cheesy attempt to ask for a kiss. “Okay,” she couldn’t resist, pressing her lips against his for several long seconds. “Yes, I can definitely taste your mother’s cookies.”

“Ewwww,” Albert’s face scrunched up as he stood in the doorway, “that’s gross.”

Elaina and Alexander froze, their heads turning slowly to meet the gaze of the six-year-old in the doorway.

“Why did you eat a cookie off of his lips?” Albert stepped into the room, his judgmental expression, “it’s…gross. It’s already been in Alex’s mouth.”

“It’s just kissing, Baby,” Elaina pulled her feet up onto the couch, watching as the six-year-old walked across the room and snagged a cookie from the plate in the center of the coffee table. “One day you’ll understand.”

“It’s gross, and it’s how you get sick. You’ll give each other all your germs!” Albert took a bite of his cookie, his expression growing exasperated. “What if Alex is almost sick? Not sick, but like he’s gonna be sick tomorrow and he doesn’t know yet but he’s still courageous now even though he doesn’t know it and then you get sick now because you kissed him!”

Elaina blinked, not able to address all the words that Albert just said because she was caught up on one. “Courageous?” She turned to look over at Alexander, her eyebrows pinching together. “Is he wrong or am I?”

Alexander held back a snort, raising a finger and pointing at his little brother, “it’s contagious, Baby.”

Elaina relaxed slightly, shaking her head as she recovered quickly from worrying that she had used those two words wrong her entire life. “And…even if he is contagious,” Elaina emphasized the word, turning her attention back to her boyfriend. “I think I’ll risk it. Come here.”

“Ewwww!” With his mouth full of cookie, Albert covered his eyes and ran from the room. “Mummy! Alex and Ellie are kissing again!”

3- Arthur “you should have thought about that.”

“I’ve decided not to be Queen anymore,” Waverly lowered herself back into her husband’s deck chair, raising her heels onto his desk, using her free hand to gently stroke baby Alexander’s face. “I’m just going to have babies. You can do all the running the country and I’ll just have children and play with them all day long.”

Arthur was only half-listening to his wife as he read over a few papers. “That sounds fine.”

Waverly raised a brow, a small smirk forming on her lips, “I think we should just have another one right now.”

“Okay,” Arthur turned the page he was reading over and began to skim it, making a few lines down and making a few notes. “In a few minutes.”

“Like now,” Waverly chuckled, not at all upset that her husband was so clearly not paying attention to her. “I want to announce that I’m pregnant again in a few months, and just keep having babies until I’m forty. I think we can probably fit in another eight or nine, minimum.”

“Mhmm,” Arthur hummed, chuckling softly as he did begin to listen to his wife speak, hearing from her tone first that clearly what she was saying was outrageous, and then catching the second half of her statement. He stifled a laugh, but didn’t respond.

“Yes,” Waverly’s voice rose in pitch as she leaned forward and kissed her son’s face, “I’ll fill this palace with little babies and you’ll just stay little babies forever.”

Arthur huffed, refraining from commenting on the tantrum of epic proportions their eldest child had thrown the night before over bath time.

“I don’t want to be Queen,” Waverly’s mock pout was evident in her voice, pressing several long kisses to her child’s forehead. “I just want to be Mumma forever and ever.”

“I suppose you should have thought about that before you married the king,” Arthur lifted his head, a small smile on his lips. “How is William? Is he still napping?”

Waverly nodded her head, a wide grin spreading across her lips, “and this one woke up in a very happy mood.”

“Only because you’re holding him,” Arthur commented, pushing himself onto his feet, the paperwork not he table long forgotten as he walked around his desk, peeking over his wife’s shoulder at their almost two-month old son. “What happens if we have eight more and they all demand to be held like him?”

“I suppose we’ll have to grow more hands,” Waverly stated seriously, tipping her head back to give her husband a serious look. “I will not have my babies lacking the care and affection they desire.”

“Of course not,” Arthur didn’t comment on the physiological impossibility of growing more hands, instead he just leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

------- 

Thought I managed to get a little bit of everyone in these three. Hope you like them :) 

[andromytta]

All Your Life

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 23 | andromytta vs. @ladylilithprime

Prompt: Apple Pie

Ship: Claire Novak/Kevin Tran

Word Count: 2441

Tags/Warnings: 

Nerd Claire

Punk Kevin

Family Drama

Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags

SPN Rare Ships Creation Challenge

Thanksgiving Dinner

Apple Pie

Demisexual Claire Novak

Summary:  Claire finally brings Kevin home for family dinner. But it can't just be any family dinner, no, it has to be Thanksgiving dinner. With her ENTIRE FAMILY present. Oh, and her dads still hate him....

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651645  (Part 3 of the Never Let You Go series)

Kevin lounged on Krissy’s bed watching Claire pack for her Thanksgiving trip home.  He had offered to help her multiple times, and each time she responded with “You’ll just do it wrong.”  So, he resigned himself to thumbing through magazines on her roommate’s unmade bed, skimming the articles and sex tips and sniffing every perfume ad.  It was Wednesday, and Claire had just finished her last class before Fall Break.

“You’ll be back here on Monday, right?” he asked.

“Mmhmm…”

“And your folks live less than an hour away, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Then why do you need so many bags?”  Kevin asked with a chuckle. So far, Claire had three bags packed and was working on her fourth.

“Well, this one has all my books,” she said as she pointed to the oversized wheeled backpack.  “This one has my computer and my camera equipment.”  That one was a medium sized hard case with wheels, plastered with stickers.  “These other two are for my clothes and, you know, girlie products.”

“Wait, so you’re on vacation and you’re still going to be doing homework?”

“Well, duh.”

“Ok, ok,” Kevin said with a chuckle.  “You do you. But you know,” Kevin said brightly, “try to relax a little.”

“Oh yeah, like that’s even possible.”  Claire said, rolling her eyes. “What about you?  Can you relax? Are you even ready to meet my family tomorrow?  I mean, like, my whole family?”

“Yeah, Babe.  I’m actually fine.  I mean, I already know your grandmother and your aunts, and they love me.  So what do I have to worry about?”

Claire rolled her eyes again.  “Oh, I don’t know. Only that my dads basically hate you already, and if Jack doesn’t like you, well, then all bets are off.  I mean, if my twin can’t stand you , then there’s not anything I can do about it.  And then there’s Alex. She hates everyone.” Claire started pacing and her voice got faster and higher pitched the more she talked.

Kevin grabbed her forearms and stopped her pacing in the middle of the room.  “Shhh. Chill out. It will be ok. Your siblings will love me. I mean, I am pretty awesome.  And I have no doubt Ellen will make sure your dads remain civil during Thanksgiving dinner.”

Claire actually laughed at that.  “That’s true. My gramma can be pretty scary when she wants to be.”

About an hour later, Kevin was dropping Claire off in front of her parents’ house.  “You and Krissy and Joss will be here on time, tomorrow, right? Don’t be late.”

“I know, I know.  High noon. Sharp.”  Kevin said with fond exasperation.  They had been over this dozens of times already. “Our watches are synchronized and I have my super secret decoder ring.”

“And bring your guitar,” Claire continued. Kevin wasn’t sure if she heard his snark in the midst of her panicking. “Jack will want to play.  Dad won’t let him touch his ever since he got jelly on it…” she trailed off, though still mumbling to herself as she pulled her luggage out of the backseat.

“Yes, Claire, I know.  Now go, see your family.  I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kevin kissed her on the cheek before leaving her, and her bags, in the driveway.  Hey, he offered to help, but she’d steadfastly refused.

Claire wrestled her bags to the front door and was just trying to dig her key out of her purse when the door flung open.  Jack was standing there with a huge smile on his face.

“Claire!  You’re home!”  He engulfed her in a big hug, grabbed her bags, and ushered her inside.  “Alex! Dads! Claire is home!”  He didn’t really need to shout, because they were all gathered in the living room already.

Alex looked up from where she was lounging on the couch.  “Hi.” She returned to her phone after that affectionate greeting.

“You’ve been out of class for three hours.  What took you so long?” Castiel asked. “I hope you brought your midterm project with you.”

“Geez, Cas.  You’re on vacation.  Can’t you give ‘Professor Novak’ the day off?” Dean said, smoothing his hand down his husband’s arm and grabbing his elbow, giving him a gentle shake before greeting Claire with a hug.  “Welcome home, Kiddo.”

“Hi, Dad.”  Claire returned the hug affectionately, their previous fighting long but forgotten.

“Ok, now go upstairs and get cleaned up.  We have pies to make.”

“Awesome.  Is Gramma coming over tonight?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered.  “She’s coming over tonight to help with the cooking.  Cas is picking up Sam and Jess and Gabe and Kali at the airport tonight, so Jess and Gabe will also be here to help.  Jess said she’sreally excited to learn Mom’s stuffing recipe.  Then Grampa, Jo and Charlie will be here tomorrow.  I’m assuming your new ‘friend’ will be here then?”

Claire nodded, hearing the finger quotes in her dad’s voice.

“And I assume your therapist is coming too?”

Claire rolled her eyes.  “Da-ad. Krissy is not my therapist.  But yes, she’s coming and bringing her girlfriend too, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

A couple of hours later, Claire was pressing pie crust into her fifth pie tin, covered in flour up to her elbows, when the door opened and Ellen Harvelle-Singer walked in.  “Gramma!” Claire exclaimed, running to give the woman a big, flour coated hug.

“Hey, baby,” Ellen said, smoothing Claire’s wild blond hair.

Dean came out of the kitchen just behind his daughter.  “Hey Mom,” he said, wrapping both women in a hug.

Ellen looked at Claire.  “Well, didja tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Dean asked.

“Guess not.” Ellen said.  Changing the subject, she asked, “So where’s my dreamy son-in-law and my other two grandbabies?”

“Cas and Jack went to pick up the rest of the family at the airport, and Alex is up in her room.  She cut herself peeling apples for Claire, and wouldn’t let me help her. She insisted on waiting until you got here.  Apparently, you fix cuts better than me,” Dean pouted at his mother.

“Well, then, let me go take care of that,” Ellen said before turning pointedly to Claire.

“While I’m gone, you tell him, got it?” No one defied the matriarch of the family for very long.  

“Yes, ma’am,” Claire gulped, and she sheepishly made her way back to the kitchen and forced herself to concentrate extra hard on her pie crust.  Dean just stood in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest.  

“Well?” he said with a lifted eyebrow.

Never looking up from her pie crust, she said in a single rushed breath, “So, you know that band that played at the Roadhouse, the punk band that did a cover of ‘Stairway to Heaven’ that you hated, and you really don’t like how Gramma hired him as the music manager there, even though he’s really good and the bar’s profits are up, but you just generally really hate that guy for no actual reason?”

Dean stared at his kid for a long moment before simply barking, “Yeah.”

Claire finally looked up from her pie, her blue eyes locking with Dean’s green.  “Well, that’s Kevin. My Kevin.”

“Wha-What?” Dean spluttered.  “But-but you said he was in band not A band.”

“No, I said he was in a band.  And I was ready to bring him home for dinner, until Aunt Jo told me what you said!”  Claire stashed her last pie crust in the freezer, slamming the door to emphasize her point.

Dean dropped heavily into a chair at the kitchen table.  Now, Claire’s actions made sense. They’d been fighting for months over this very issue.  And it was all his fault. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling chagrined.  “So, that’s why you haven’t been home for family dinner?”

“Well…..yeah,” Claire said as she started removing the peeled apples from the cinnamon and ginger infused water they were resting in.  That was her secret, why she made her family’s signature apple pie better than Dean, and even better than Ellen. She began chopping as she was talking.  “I mean, it’s not exactly encouraging to bring your boyfriend home to meet the parents, when you already know the parents hate him.”

“Oh, come on, Claire!  You know that’s not what I meant.  Just because I hate the way he performed, doesn’t mean I hate him.  I don’t even know him.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly the poster boy for easy going paternal figures, particularly if it comes to your beloved Led Zeppelin.  Who I still think are overrated anyway.” Claire said sassily as she continued to chop.

“Like you’re any different.  Just let someone butcher a Beatles’ song,” Dean retorted lamely. He had a note of pride in his voice he couldn’t conceal.

Claire shrugged, a small smile tugging at her mouth  “Well, I am your daughter.”

Dean got up from the kitchen table and moved to one of the bar stools in front of the counter where Claire was chopping.  “So, tell me about him. Clearly there must be more to him than the butchering of perfectly good classic rock.”

Claire’s soft smile widened just slightly.  “Well, his rendition of ‘Blackbird’ is the best I’ve ever heard.”

Dean looked mildly surprised.  “That’s saying a lot.”

“Dad, he’s enormously talented.  Just because you’re too old to get his style of music doesn’t make it bad.”

“Your face is old.”

Claire raised an eyebrow at him.  “Nice comeback, there, Pops.  If my face is old, what does that make your face?”

“Shut up,” Dean retorted with a smile of his own.  “So, go on, tell me more.”

“You literally just told me to shut up.”

“You know what I mean.”

Claire stuck her tongue out at him, but continued talking.  “Kevin is really great. He plays six instruments.” Dean made a “huh” face at that.  “He has a degree in music theory from Princeton.  Did you know that because of his help, the Roadhouse has become one of the top college bars in the city?”

“Please, your grams and Jo could have done that.”

“No, Dad.  Kevin is the one who hooked them up with the up and coming bands in the area.  There’s more to music than just cover bands for mullet rock, you know.”

“Hey, I like those bands. And they don’t all have mullets.”

“Yes, but you’re not a twenty something college student with miles of disposable income,” Claire said cheekily.  “Your bands still play there; just other bands play there too. Gramma put him in charge of this summer’s Battle of the Bands.  It will be epic.”

“You know, I don’t know how I feel about my kid sister meeting your boyfriend before me.”

“Hey, it’s not like that was planned.  They didn’t even know we were dating when they hired him.  It was only after he and Jo got to talking and that’s how she found out.  Then she called me and told me what you said about him.” Claire dropped her eyes back to the cutting board.  She’d been making this pie for so many years that the chopping came naturally to her and she hardly had to watch what she was doing, but she found she couldn’t look into her dad’s eyes anymore.

Dean reached across the count and stilled her hands.  “Hey, hey, Claire-bear, I’m sorry I said that. Well, I’m sorry I said it like that.  If I had known he was important to you…well, I was drunk so I probably still would have said it.”

“Wow, Dad, you suck at apologizing.” Claire smiled weakly.

“Well, I’m sorry, but your boyfriend’s music does suck.” She glared at him.  “To me,” he added. “But I won’t let that affect my judgement of him as a person.  But if he turns out to be an asshole and he hurts you, I’ll just beat him up extra hard.”

“He’s got a black belt in three martial arts, Dad, I doubt you could take him.”

Dean took her hands and looked her in the eye.  “Seriously, though, Claire, what kind of guy is he?  He’s not pressuring you into anything, right?” That was a problem in her last relationship.  Her ex-girlfriend’s addictive personality lead to her wanting to do things that Claire was uncomfortable with.

“Dad, he’s a really, really great guy.  He knows and respects my limits, sometimes even better than I do.”  Claire blushed and ducked her head down. “He, well, um, Kevin, he might be the one, Dad.” Dean’s eyes lit up with happiness.  But before he could say anything, Claire added, “But don’t you dare start planning a wedding.  We are nowhere near that yet!” His face fell comically fast.

Just then, Ellen and Alex emerged from upstairs.  “Well, I got her all patched up, and she’s graciously decided to socialize with the rest of her family,” Ellen said as they came into the kitchen.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I decided so much as she’s making me,” Alex grumped.  Ellen smacked the back of her head. “Ow!”

“Hey, it’s not like we’re asking you help with cooking in any way.  Just keep us company. It’s not like you see me or your sister every day,” Ellen scolded her.

“Yeah, please don’t help us cook,” Claire teased as she tossed her apples into the skillet.  She then turned to her grandmother. “Before you ask, yes, I told him.”

Ellen turned to Dean, “And you’ll be on your best behavior and give this boy a chance, right, son?”

“Yeah, Mom.  He sounds like a good kid,” Dean said.

“Hey, he really is a good kid.  Even your pop likes him, despite his weird hair.”  Ellen said.

“Well, if Dad likes him, then I guess he must be ok.”  Dean agreed. Bobby Singer pretty much hated everyone who wasn’t family, and sometimes he didn’t like them much either.

They didn’t have a chance to discuss it further, because just then the front door swung open and the rest of the family came piling in.  Gabriel and Jessica were already arguing over who cooked what better, Cas and Kali were having a heated discussion about politics, and Sam was telling Jack something no one but them could hear, Jack hanging on his favorite uncle’s every word.

The Winchester-Novak-Harvelle-Singer Thanksgiving was certainly going to be interesting this year.  But there was at least one thing Claire could definitely count on: Every single one of her apple pies would be devoured before the end of the day.  The rest, as usual, would be a toss-up with her large and unpredictable family.

Poor Kevin.