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Nate walked out into the living room to find Jason huddled on the end of the couch. He had his cell phone pressed to his ear and he looked smaller than Nate had ever seen him. All he was saying was, “but Jess… seriously? No really… Jess…” over and over again. Finally Jason hung up the phone and stared at Nate, his eyes wide.
“What’s up?” Nate asked, taking a drink from his glass. He’d broken into the vodka extra early today because it was almost Thanksgiving, and there was no drinking at Jess’ house.
“That was Jess,” Jason said, nodding at Nate.
“So I gathered, what’s going on?” Nate replied.
Jason just stared at him, the look on his face was one Nate hadn’t seen often, and not in a very long time. It was the look of fear.
“What is it?” Nate asked again, panic starting to build in his gut. He finished his drink quickly and went to the wet bar to pour himself another.
“Jess says it’s our turn to do Thanksgiving,” Jason said once Nate was standing in front of him again.
“What?” Nate asked, downing his second drink.
“We have to make Thanksgiving dinner.”
“But…” Nate stammered. “But… Jason… I don’t know how!” He turned toward the bar and poured himself a third drink. As an afterthought, he poured one for Jason as well. “Here,” he said, handing the glass to Jason. “We need it.”
Jason took the glass and took a sip, coughing immediately. “Nate, this is straight!”
Nate just nodded and took another drink. “Yeah,” he said.
“Hey!” Jason said, sitting forward and putting his glass on the coffee table. “I have an idea.”
“What?” Nate sat forward too but didn’t put his glass down.
“Let’s invite John and Rodney. They’ve been doing this whole domestic thing for awhile now. They have two kids; they have to be good at it.”
“Oh good idea!” Nate agreed. “We can invite Wes and Damien too, they’ve done everything; they have to have cooked something before. We can invite Ronon and Teyla too!”
“Yeah! Between the eight of us we’re bound to figure something out.”
Jason got off the couch and headed toward the kitchen, Nate following close behind him. His legs already felt a little wobbly from the three very close double shots of vodka.
Jason opened the refrigerator and started rooting around, so Nate did the same with the cabinet. He found macaroni and cheese left over from the last time they babysat Nathan and Grace, a box of hamburger helper that neither of them would admit to buying and various canned vegetables. In the pantry he found a bag of potatoes that were threatening to get up and walk away, a half eaten box of crackers and a package of baking chocolate.
He turned around when he heard Jason sigh. He was leaning against the counter, his legs out and crossed at the ankle and he was looking down. Nate thought that if he had a cowboy hat and a piece of wheat hanging out of his mouth, Jason would look like one of those wooden cutouts that was made to look like the shadow of a man.
“We need to go shopping,” Jason said, looking up at Nate.
“I hate shopping,” Nate sighed, drinking what was left in his glass.
“I’ll make a list,” Jason said as he left the kitchen.
“I’ll go have another drink,” Nate replied, heading back into the living room.
oOo
“Okay, here’s the list,” Jason sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You ready?”
“Almost. Hey, let Goose out real quick,” Nate called from the bedroom.
Jason glanced down at the little white terrier mix. Goose wagged his tail and panted at him. “I can’t believe Jess waited until the day before to tell us,” Jason grumbled as he got up and headed for the back door. Goose’s nails clicked on the linoleum as he followed.
Jason leaned on the porch rail and lit up as Goose ran around the fenced in yard. He supposed Jess was just getting back at him finally for that one Thanksgiving when he and Nate had come back to Earth unexpectedly and showed up on her doorstep the day before.
Suddenly Goose barked, and Jason looked up to see him streaking across the yard, hot on the heels of a hapless squirrel. “Goose!” Jason called, but Goose ignored him as the squirrel made it to the safety of the large oak. Goose danced around the base of the tree, barking.
“Jason, come on,” Nate poked his head out the back door. “Oh damn. Okay, let’s get him inside.” He came out and between the two of them they managed to catch the excited dog.
The car was cold and Jason shivered as he slid the key into the ignition. “Should have started the car.”
“It’ll warm up by the time we get there,” Nate chuckled.
“Seat belt,” Jason reminded as he backed the car out of the driveway.
The grocery store was a mad house; Jason stood back and watched as Nate raced a guy to the last cart. He won, but just barely, and the other man snarled before taking one of the cold ones from the front of a row a teenager had just pushed inside. “Okay, what first?” Nate asked as he pushed his cart over to Jason.
Jason dug in his pockets for the list and groaned. “Shit, the list is still on the table at home!” He took a deep breath and tried to envision what he’d written. “Okay, well, let’s just go aisle by aisle I guess.”
“Vodka first,” Nate said decisively and he turned the cart, leading them towards the alcohol area.
---
John, Rodney, Wes, and Damien were shivering on Nate and Jason’s front porch when they arrived. “Hi guys,” Nate called as soon as he opened the car door. “Come and help us haul everything inside? I think we bought out the store.”
“Seriously, I think buying stock in it would be easier,” Jason added dryly.
“You got actual pumpkins?” Rodney gave Jason a raised eyebrow when he saw what was in the back seat.
Jason shrugged. “They were out of canned pumpkin and premade pies. I did what I could. It’s not like we have time to run around to ten different stores.”
“It’s good,” Wes clapped Rodney on the shoulder. “My da used to make pumpkin pies with the real things all the time. I can do it.” Jason tried to hold his relief in check, but from the amused look John shot him, he didn’t succeed.
They were mostly done hauling things inside when Jason realized what they’d forgotten. “We didn’t get a turkey!”
“It’s Thanksgiving dinner,” Rodney said incredulously. “How do you forget the turkey?”
“Ronon’s got a cell phone, right?” Nate asked.
Jason laughed and kissed him. “Yes, he does. We’ll just have him pick up a turkey on his way here.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?” John asked, but Jason was already calling Ronon.
“Dex,” Ronon’s deep voice rumbled through the phone.
“Hey, buddy, listen, can you do me a favor?” Jason waved off John’s protesting. “Can you get a turkey on your way over?”
“Uh, yeah,” Ronon sounded distracted, but Jason wasn’t about to ask.
“Great, thanks, see you soon!” Jason hung up his phone and then joined everyone else as they stood around the pile of groceries in the dining room.
“Okay,” Nate spoke. “So what now? Where do we start?”
They were silent for a moment as they considered the task ahead of them. “Divide and conquer,” John finally spoke up.
“Right,” Jason nodded. “Okay, let’s get the eggs boiling.”
“Ooh you got alcohol,” Damien grinned, pulling out the wine and vodka and beers. “Nate and I will get mixing; liquid courage and all that.”
Rodney groaned as Nate nodded enthusiastically. “Where’s your video camera, Jason? I have a feeling this should be recorded for the ages. A what not to do, if you will. For the children.” He nodded seriously and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s in the cabinet under the TV,” he directed before he went to join John in the kitchen.
He found John with his head in the refrigerator, a small pile of citrus based things at his feet. “What are you doing?”
John jumped and knocked his head against the freezer door. “Ow!” he backed away from the fridge, rubbing his head. “Getting rid of all the citrus,” he answered, checking his hand for blood.
“Just put it all in a bag at the back,” Jason chuckled, but John gave him a hanged-dog look.
“Rodney will know,” he sighed. “And if he finds it, I won’t get sex for a month.”
Jason laughed and shook his head. “Fine, we can get new stuff later.”
As John finished his task, Jason piled eggs in a large pot and filled it with water. Once it was on the stove, he went back to the dining room, figuring he should probably try to put away the things that might spoil.
Nate and Damien came back to the kitchen about the time the eggs were done. “Okay here,” Jason hustled Nate into a chair at their breakfast nook and set three bowls in front of him. “Here’s the eggs,” he pointed at one bowl, “peel them, put the shells in this bowl and the eggs in that bowl. Then we’ll do the deviling.”
John and Wes sat in the dining room, a large sack of potatoes between them and the living room trash can next to them, and Jason joined them in peeling potatoes for the potato salad. Rodney wandered by them a few minutes later, a beer bottle in one hand and the video camera in the other. “Goose is in the living room trying to figure out what the pumpkins are,” he chuckled before making his way into the kitchen. He backed out a moment later and shot Jason a look. “Uh, I think Nate might need a little help.”
Jason raised an eyebrow and put down the potato he’d been working on. When he looked in the kitchen, it was like a bomb filled with eggs had gone off. “What the heck happened?” Jason asked incredulously as he looked around.
Nate gave him a miserable look. There were egg shells in his hair. “The eggs won’t peel.”
“They’re eggs, not hand grenades,” Jason laughed. “How’d they get way over there?”
“I maybe got a little frustrated?” Nate shrugged.
The batch of eggs was mostly ruined, but Jason couldn’t help but pick the shells out of Nate’s hair and then kiss him. “Okay, we’ll figure it out. There’s got to be a secret to this.”
“I’ll check Google,” Rodney offered before leaving the kitchen.
oOo
Nate sighed as he went into the dining room, leaving Jason and John to tackle the stupid eggs.
“Now I know why they call them deviled eggs,” he grumbled. “Only Satan himself could think of such an evil task.”
“Come on, buddy,” Rodney said clapping Nate on the shoulder and steering him toward the desk sitting against the far wall. “I’ll take care of this.”
“I bet that’s all you do in Hell,” Nate continued complaining as Rodney sat down and started up the computer. “Just sit around in the hellish heat and peel fucking boiled eggs!”
“You know, Nate,” Rodney said as he navigated the computer to the Google page. “I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell, but I’ve heard about it. They say there isn’t any water in Hell, so I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to boil eggs.”
“Which only makes it even more evil!”
“Alright,” Rodney said, cutting Nate off before he could really get into his rant. “Easiest way to peel hard boiled eggs,” he said as he typed.
Nate just grabbed another glass of vodka and sat on the folding chair beside the desk. He was too busy hating eggs and being determined that he wasn’t going to be the one to clean up the mess in the kitchen to care about what Rodney was doing.
“Here we go,” Rodney said after a moment. “Boil for three minutes, let sit for five, then run a little cool water over the eggs and peel them while they’re still warm.”
“See,” Nate said, taking his glass and getting up from the chair. “Heat is a factor; they totally do it in Hell.” He shook his head; hating the holiday and Jess for making them do the cooking, and went into the kitchen. “Do it while they’re warm,” he said and turned to leave again.
“Nate, hang on,” Jason called and Nate turned back around.
“I am not peeling any more eggs!” Nate grumbled, angrily.
“Okay then, how about peeling the potatoes instead?” Jason asked, a loving tone to his voice. The same tone he used when Nate was determined not to have sex with him… the voice always worked.
Nate sighed and moved toward the counter where there was a big bowl of potatoes and a knife. “Alright,” he said and picked one up.
“What’s the potatoes for?” John asked from behind Nate. He was in the middle of pecking an egg with a spoon to crack the shell.
“Potato Salad,” Jason replied.
Nate tried to tune it out as he concentrated on not slicing his thumb open, but it wasn’t working. “Ah,” he hissed as he got his thumb again.
“Really? Nate?” Jason asked from behind him. “You’re a trained soldier, you’ve killed people with knives; how can you not peel a potato without slicing yourself open?”
“These aren’t people,” Nate said, turning around and holding out the potato that was slightly tinted pink with his blood. “They aren’t threatening to kill me or you or anyone else, and, furthermore, they aren’t moving around! It’s much easier to slice something that’s trying to evade.”
“Then stop moving your thumb,” Jason countered with a smile.
“I hate you a little bit.”
“I know.”
Nate glared at Jason as he turned back to the table and the evil eggs.
“Wait a minute,” John said and stood up. “You’re peeling potatoes for potato salad?”
“Yeah,” Jason replied. “Everyone does, it’s how it’s done.”
“No, no it is definitely not how it’s done,” John replied, shaking a finger at Jason as if he were one of his kids.
“Yes, John, it is.”
“No, Jason, it isn’t. Seriously! Potato salad is much better when you leave the skins on.”
“Peeled!” Jason shouted, taking a step closer to John.
“Unpeeled!” John shouted back, getting in Jason’s face.
Nate picked up the bowl of potatoes and carried it out to the dining room, letting the boys work it out themselves. “Rodney,” he said as Rodney passed him. “Jason and John are about to come to blows over potatoes.”
“What?” Rodney asked and hurried toward the kitchen.
Nate sighed and sat down at the table, making sure to keep his thumb perfectly still as he peeled the potatoes.
---
“Hey Jason!” Nate jumped and almost sliced his thumb again as Wes called into the house from the porch. “You guys got a sledgehammer?”
“In the shed!” Jason called back from the kitchen. “Wait, what the fuck for?”
Nate couldn’t stay in his seat when Wes called back, “The pumpkin pie.”
“Holy shit!” Nate said as he stumbled toward the front door. He’d lost count of how many drinks he’d had, but the day was getting more fun, so that was something.
He walked out onto the front porch with Jason, John, Damien and Rodney just as Wes was coming back around the house with the sledge hammer.
“Wait one god damned second,” Nate shouted, holding out a finger toward Wes. “You are not Gallagher! You can’t just go off smashing pumpkins on… Ooh, wait.” Nate pulled out his phone and brought up iTunes. After a moment, Stephen Lynch was singing about his car keys in an imitation of the Smashing Pumpkins lead singer.
“No no, no worries!” Wes said once the song had finished. “I got this, I watched my Da do it a million times.”
Wes picked up the hammer and before anyone could protest, he brought it down on top of the pumpkin.
“Hey!” Ronon, who had just stepped out of a taxi, shouted.
“What the fuck is that?” Jason asked, pointing past Nate and toward the thing in Ronon’s hand.
Ronon held up the object and Nate squinted at what looked like…
“Turkey,” Ronon said and started up the walk.
“You killed a turkey?” Nate asked and stepped out of the way so Ronon could go into the house.
“No no!” Jason shouted. “Not in the house! You take that beast out back!”
“It’s dead,” Ronon protested and held the dead bird toward Jason.
“I don’t care! Out back! Now!”
“Fine,” Ronon grumbled and headed back down the stairs.
“You too, Nate.”
“But… no but… I was peeling potatoes.” Nate protested. “I finally stopped cutting myself.”
“Ronon needs help plucking the turkey.”
Nate scrunched up his nose, but he followed Ronon around the house and into the back yard.
---
“Aw, the poor thing,” Nate slurred as he reached out and gently touched the dead bird’s neck. “It’s still warm.”
“I didn’t kill it that long ago,” Ronon told him. “Pluck it.”
“Me?” Nate squawked. “You killed it, isn’t there some kind of rule that says if you kill it you have to make it ready?”
“On Sateda,” Ronon said and leaned against the house. “We’re not on Sateda. Now pluck.”
“This is awful,” Nate said, still petting the dead bird. “It still has all its guts, and the feet and the head…” he looked up at Ronon, his eyes wide. “I am NOT cutting off its head!”
“I’ll do that bit. You make it naked.”
Nate sighed and nodded, reaching out to take hold of one of the feathers on the turkey’s back. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and yanked.
“Holy fuck!” Nate screamed, feeling himself sober immediately. He ran toward the back of the house as the bird flapped its wings and jumped to its feet. “Jason!” Nate screamed.
Ronon looked at his gun and cursed it. “Stun! How can I be so stupid?” he asked and Nate heard him change the setting.
“Jason!”
Ronon held out his arm and fired, the turkey gobbled and ran past Nate, flapping its wings.
“Jason! Help!”
Ronon fired again, missing the frantic animal for a second time. “You could help me!” He shouted at Nate.
“No, I can’t,” Nate shouted back. “I don’t have a gun.”
“Fuck the gun! Grab it and I’ll chop off its head.”
“Chase it?”
“Chase it! I’ll kill it!” Ronon shouted back at Nate, holstering his gun.
“You suck!” Nate said as he lunged toward the bird, missing completely. A moment later, the turkey’s gobbling is accompanied by Goose barking.
“Damn dog,” Ronon shouted and Nate tackled him just as he was reaching for his gun.
“You are not shooting my dog!” Nate shouted.
“I wasn’t going to. I was going to shoot the bird!”
“Ronon! You couldn’t shoot the damn thing when it wasn’t being chased by a vicious dog.”
“Vicious?” Ronon asked. “Nate, it’s the size of a loaf of bread.”
“Yes,” Nate shouted and jumped toward the bird, only to miss again. “A loaf of bread that has a five hundred pound rabid turkey running for its life!” He got up off the ground just as the bird was running past again.
“It’s not five hundred pounds, Nate,” Ronon protested. “I couldn’t have carried it with one hand if it was.”
“So, you’re admitting that you’re weak then?” Nate asked and turned toward Ronon, putting his hands on his hips.
“Show me a man that can lift five hundred pounds with one hand and I’ll…”
Thankfully the bird ran past at that moment. Nate and Ronon pounced at the same time, both falling into a puddle of thick mud.
“Nate,” Ronon grumbled as he pushed himself up off the ground. “For your safety, this had better just be mud.”
Nate shrugged and got out of the puddle too. “You never know,” he replied.
oOo
John and Jason sat in the kitchen, working on the second batch of eggs, when the evening outside lit up with the sounds of energy weapon fire and yelling. Jason concentrated on peeling the eggs as John glanced at him. “Aren’t you going to check it out? Nate’s calling for you.”
Jason didn’t even look up. “No way. Keep slicing.”
John did as he was told, slicing the eggs as Jason got them peeled.
A few minutes later, Ronon and Nate tromped in through the back door, covered in grass, mud, and leaves. “No turkey,” Nate informed Jason. “Steve won.”
Jason stared at the two of them. “If we don’t have a turkey, Jess is gonna kill us.”
“Steve?” John asked.
Nate shrugged. “It’s the only name I could come up with.”
Damien wandered in from the dining room. “We need more eggs anyway,” he reminded.
Jason sighed. “Right, okay.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Here’s $50. Get us a turkey and eggs.”
Damien grinned as he snatched the money and headed for the front door.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Wes asked as he came into the kitchen, a large bowl of pumpkin bits in his hands.
Rodney stared at the bowl. “I am not eating that. It’s been all over the porch.”
“I’m gonna wash it,” Wes rolled his eyes. “Besides, you have not had pumpkin pie until you’ve had my da’s. Trust me.”
“No, I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Jason groaned, “but what choice do we have? We have to have a turkey.”
No one could argue with that, so Wes took the obliterated pumpkin to the sink and started washing it. “Aw hell, can I use your phone, Jason? I got a calling card, so you don’t have to worry about international calling. I can’t remember how this goes after the smashing thing, so I gotta call my da.”
“Sure, whatever.” Jason waved him away, the taste of panic in his mouth. They had to pull this off, somehow.
“Okay, obviously John’s plan isn’t working,” Rodney said as Jason ran out of eggs to peel. There was only twelve of them on the pan, and that wouldn’t nearly be enough for the fifteen people that Jason was expecting for dinner. “Let’s try a new plan. Nate, go shower, then Ronon will shower. Nate, finish the potatoes,” he paused as Nate groaned.
“I’ll get the sweet potatoes done,” Jason volunteered, and Rodney nodded.
“Good. John, stuffing.”
“Please tell me you didn’t get box stuffing,” John begged Jason, cutting Rodney off.
Jason snorted. “Please, like we’d do box stuffing in our family.”
“Yes, very good,” Rodney took control again. “Ronon, cut the onions for the stuffing. If we divide this up it’ll be done faster and appeal to everyone’s strengths.”
“That’s what I said earlier,” John protested.
“Well, you weren’t very specific,” Rodney sniffed.
“Peeling potatoes apparently isn’t my strength,” Nate reminded them, but Jason smiled at him.
“Don’t worry we don’t need many more of them peeled.”
---
“I can’t believe I’m getting Ronon crying on film,” Rodney snickered as he trained the camera on Ronon, standing at the kitchen counter and slicing onions.
“Shut up, McKay,” Ronon sniffed, wiping his eyes again. “This food could be a weapon if you people put your minds to it. I’ve never had a food that’s made me cry before.”
“That’s the price you pay for flavor,” Jason chuckled as Ronon sniffled again.
The sweet potatoes were out of the oven, the still in their skin potatoes were boiling for mashed potatoes, and John was just waiting for the onions for the stuffing. Jason glanced at the clock and realized how long Damien had been gone. “You think D’s okay?” he asked Wes. “It’s been ages and I sent him out for two things.”
“I asked if it was a good idea,” Wes chuckled, shaking his head. He was mashing together cooked pumpkin and spices as he talked. “He’ll show back up soon, I’m sure.”
oOo
Nate was lounging in the armchair, a glass of vodka in his hand, when Damien came through the door, loaded down with bags.
“Damn,” Nate said, his buzz back in full swing. “Didn’t Jason just ask for eggs?”
“And turkey,” Damien replied and handed the thankfully dead bird to Nate. “I got both.”
“And a shit ton of other stuff,” Jason said from the kitchen doorway. “What is all that?”
“Well,” Damien said, making his way into the dining room. “We needed other stuff too you know.”
“Like what?” Rodney asked as he began pawing through the bags.
Damien smacked Rodney’s hands away and started pulling things out of the bags and sitting them on the table. “Egg nog,” he said as he sat the carton on the table. “Cookies, very important. Ice cream, to be served on top of the cookies. Alcohol, to be drank throughout…”
“Oh thank goodness,” Nate sighed and grabbed the bottle of vodka. “I was almost out.”
“Green beans,” Damien continued after a short glare in Nate’s direction. “Because every meal needs those. Marshmallows, and of course…” He dumped the rest of the bag revealing cubed meat, pastry roll outs and a variety of other things.”
“What’s that stuff for?” Nate asked, grabbing the cubed meat, his mouth already watering.
Damien grabbed the meat out of his hands and cradled it like an infant. “Meat pies of course.”
“Meat?” Nate asked and looked at the pastry roll outs. “Pies?”
“Ooooh,” Wes crooned and sat down at the table as if his knees were giving out. “You haven’t lived until you have one of his meat pies!”
“Of course,” Damien said looking at Wes with a wide smile. “Making them is half the fun.”
“Absolutely!” Wes agreed.
“What are the marshmallows for?” Nate asked, picking up the bag of mini marshmallows.
“The sweet potatoes of course,” Damien said. “Are they ready?”
“Oh no you don’t!” Jason shouted and stood between Damien and the kitchen door. “You are not putting those things in my potatoes!”
“It makes them so much better,” Damien insisted, his Australian accent becoming thicker.
“No it doesn’t!”
Nate laughed and leaned against the wall as Jason and Damien fought over the bag of marshmallows. Damien did a pump fake to the right and spun to the left, leaving Jason in his dust as he made a bee line for the sweet potatoes.
Jason turned around and tackled Damien, wrapping his arms around the Aussies waist and dragging him to his knees.
“I’m open!” John shouted from beside the stove and Damien launched the bag toward him. The bag fell between John’s hands and Nate happily called, “fumble!”
“Nate! Not helping!” Jason shouted as he scrambled across the floor toward the marshmallows. Goose beat him to it, stepping on the bag and ripping into it with his teeth, getting a mouthful of marshmallows along the way.
Jason stood up and Nate grabbed Goose as he tried to escape with his prize.
“Damien,” Jason said, waving a finger. “You will be the one paying for his vet bill when those marshmallows make him sick.”
Damien huffed and crossed his arms. “He wouldn’t have gotten them if you’d have let me put them in the potatoes.”
“Not a chance buddy,” Jason said and moved toward Nate. “Come on, we need to figure out this turkey thing.”
---
Wes and Damien argued for several minutes about whether to cook the pumpkin pie first or the meat pies. In the end, the pumpkin pie ended up in the oven while a rather toasted pair of men tried their hand a searing the cubed meat.
Nate laughed as he sat and half heartedly stirred the mashed potatoes, while Damien hissed and squawked every fifteen seconds from another burn from the grease in his pan.
Finally, the two men had everything ready and were putting the meat pies together as Nate and Jason sat in the breakfast nook enjoying a well earned drink.
As Jason and Nate watched, Damien nudged Wes with his elbow, nodded to the pie Wes was putting together and asked, “What is that?”
Wes looked back at Damien and smiled, singing… singing! “It’s priest. Have a little priest.”
“Is it really good?” Damien sang back and Nate and Jason exchanged a glance before looking back at the pair.
“Sir it’s too good, at least.” Wes replied, his voice at a higher pitch than anyone who knew him would think possible. “Then again, they don’t commit sins of the flesh, so it’s pretty fresh.”
“Awful lot of fat,” Damien sang back without missing a beat.
“Only where it sat.”
“Haven’t you got poet, or something like that?”
“No, y’see, the trouble with poet is ‘ow do you know it’s deceased? Try the priest.”
“What are you guys doing?” Jason asked as John and Rodney came into the room, no doubt drawn by the sound of their friends singing.
“What are they doing?” John asked and nodded to the two at the counter.
“They’re making meat pies,” Nate supplied helpfully.
“What kind of meat are we talking?” Rodney asked.
“Priest,” Nate and Jason said together.
“Well, then,” Wes continued singing, apparently unaware or uncaring that they were being watched. “if you’re British and loyal, you might enjoy royal marine! Anyway it’s clean. Thought it tastes of wherever it’s been.”
“Is that squire, on the fire?” Damien was singing.
Nate shook his head and stood up from the table. “I can’t do this, they’re taking my buzz away with all the singing.”
“Hey, is that Sweeny Todd?” Ronon asked, coming in from the back yard. “I love that movie, it’s even better than the news.”
Nate laughed and shook his head again. “I need another drink.”
“Me too,” John said and followed Nate out to the living room. “Oh shit!” he said as he accepted his glass from Nate. “We have to get the kids from daycare!”
“John,” Rodney said, pulling another beer out of the mini fridge behind the bar. “We’ve all been drinking. We can’t go get the kids.”
Nate grabbed his cell phone off the bar and tossed it to John. “Call Teyla, she’s not here yet.”
“Oh good call,” John said and began dialing.
oOo
Teyla arrived with Nathan and Grace while the meat pies were in the oven. The kids almost immediately wanted to go play in the yard, which John and Rodney had no issue with; the yard was surrounded by six foot privacy fence.
Jason took the drink Nate offered him, and a moment later he nearly choked on it as a blood curdling scream came from the back yard. Four year old Grace barreled into the house, crying. “Dad!” she cried, “there’s a monster and it’s chasing Nath!”
John and Rodney glanced at each other. “Steve,” they both hissed at the same time before running out the kitchen door.
Jason and the others bolted out after them to find Nathan at the top of the play set, crying, as Steve the turkey gobbled and rooted around in the grass below. “Nath, it’s okay,” John reassured as he walked over to the play set.
“It tried to kill me!” Nath cried.
“It didn’t want to kill you,” Wes replied helpfully, “it just wanted to peck your eyes out.”
“Wes!” John and Rodney shouted as Nath cried harder.
“I like my eyes!” the boy wailed. “I need my eyes for seeing!”
“Well,” Rodney chuckled. “I can’t argue with that.”
John glanced back at everyone else. “Someone get the fucking bird so I can get my son.”
“Really, John,” Nate replied. “If we could get the bird it would be in the oven.”
“Goose!” Ronon opened the back door and shouted into the house. A moment later Goose came running out, barking as soon as he saw the turkey.
Steve gobbled and ran, flapping his wings uselessly as Goose chased him across the yard. John rushed forward and helped Nath out of the play set before hustling him inside, the others close on his heels. “Sorry, kiddo,” Nate squeezed Nath’s shoulder after they were safely inside. “We forgot all about Steve.”
Damien’s phone sounded the alarm a short time later and he wandered into the kitchen to pull the meat pies out of the oven. “All ready for the turkey,” he called.
“Right,” Jason levered himself off the couch. “The turkey’s ready, right?”
Everyone nodded blurrily so Jason pulled it out of the fridge and stuck it in the oven. Jason set Damien’s phone alarm for the next morning and then shuffled back out to the living room to find Damien rolling a joint. “Outside,” he reminded, nodding towards the kids, who were parked in front of the TV watching The Tigger Movie.
“What about gravy?” John asked as they all headed for the front door.
“Shit,” Jason sighed. “How do you even make gravy?”
“Something to do with flour?” Rodney shrugged. “I’ll Google it.”
“I don’t think you make gravy until after the turkey’s out,” John added. “You use the juice, or something.”
“Can’t you just use chicken stock?” Jason sighed.
“Probably, but your family doesn’t strike me as the cutting corners type,” John replied.
“True,” Jason agreed.
“So tomorrow morning all we have to make is the gravy?” Nate asked hopefully.
Jason mentally went over everything they’d managed to make. Most of it looked pretty rough, but it tasted okay and therefore Jess would just have to deal. “Yeah, I think so.”
“What about the green bean thing? I hear that’s a staple of Thanksgiving here,” Damien reminded.
“Fuck,” Jason groaned. “Well, I don’t think that takes very long? We can make that tomorrow morning too.”
“Great, let’s light this up then,” Damien grinned and sat in Wes’ lap on one of the porch chairs.
They passed around the joint and Jason relaxed against Nate’s shoulder, stupidly relieved that they somehow managed to get the whole thing sorted. “I know this is probably payback for the other time,” Jason mumbled. “Still, Jess is gonna pay for this.”
“That’s how it works with siblings,” John laughed. “You always pay it forward.”
“It becomes a never ending battle,” Rodney added.
John put the kids to bed in the guest room a while later and then everyone sprawled out in the living room, languid with pot and exhaustion. “Timer set?” Nate asked, nudging Jason with his shoulder.
Jason groaned and peeled his face off the carpet. “Yeah,” he mumbled, turning to snuggle against Nate. “Sleep.”
“Mhm,” Nate curled closer around Jason as he drifted off.
---
“Is something burning?”
It was the first thing Jason heard when he woke up in the morning, and his eyes flew open. “The turkey!” He bolted off the floor and into the kitchen. When he got the turkey wrestled out of the oven, it didn’t look badly burned, but an odd smell was coming out of it. Jason bent over a little and peered inside of it. Instead of seeing stuffing, he found an odd reflective film.
“We didn’t stuff the turkey!” Jason shouted. “I thought you guys said the turkey was ready!”
“Oh, shit,” Damien laughed as he joined Jason and peered up the turkey’s ass. “We also forgot about the giblet bag.”
Jason moaned and went to sit in the breakfast nook. “We can’t serve this. The plastic has totally melted into the turkey.”
Wisely, no one contradicted him. “So what do we do?” Ronon finally asked.
“I’ll call a caterer, I guess. Though I’ll probably have to pay a stupid amount of money to have a turkey delivered on time.” Jason checked his pockets and then glanced around for his phone. “Anybody seen my phone?”
“Not since yesterday, no,” Nate replied. “Here, use mine.”
He handed Jason his iPhone and Jason quickly searched for caterers in their area. When he found one that looked promising, he called the number. “Yeah, I need a turkey delivered today by noon. I don’t care how much it costs or what you have to do to fit me in by that time, but that’s when I need one, and I’m willing to pay a stupid amount of money for it.”
“Okay,” the girl on the other end of the line said slowly. “I’ll see what we can do.”
Jason glanced at the tense faces around him and then motioned for Damien to throw the turkey in the trash. “Alright, it looks like we have had a cancellation, so we should be able to deliver one by eleven o’clock. What’s the address?”
Jason quickly gave her their address and his credit card number before hanging up the phone and sagging against the counter. “Okay,” he breathed, “crisis averted.”
“What about the gravy and the green bean thing?” Damien asked, waving Goose away from the trash.
“Gravy comes with it, they said,” Jason answered. “As for the green bean casserole, I’m not sure. There’s cream of mushroom soup around here somewhere.”
They found the soup and luckily there was directions for the casserole right on the soup can label. “This isn’t how we usually make it,” Jason mumbled as he read the directions, “but I guess it’ll just have to do for this year.”
It actually didn’t take that long to make and once it was in the oven, Jason headed for the porch and his first smoke of the day. Of course, that was when his phone rang. The sound was distant, but it clearly came from somewhere in the kitchen. “Anybody see my phone?”
Everyone looked around for it, but by the time it stopped ringing, they still hadn’t found it. “It’ll turn up,” Jason sighed. He was dying for a smoke by that point, so he opened the back door and let Goose run out ahead of him. “Someone set the table,” he called back inside before the door closed behind him.
They’d pulled it off, even if the turkey was being delivered. Jason watched Goose chase Steve around the yard as he lit up his cigarette. Jess was probably going to laugh her ass off at the story, but it was totally worth it for Jason’s feeling of accomplishment.
He came back inside to find Wes setting the table and John feeding the kids cereal in the breakfast nook. “Who’s up for a movie while we wait for the turkey?” Jason asked.
Nath grinned at him. “Back to the Future!”
Everyone stared at Rodney; Rodney glared at John. “John! How can you have shown him that? You know how I feel about that movie!”
John shrugged. “He found me watching it, Rodney. What was I supposed to do, say he couldn’t watch it?”
“Yes! It’s bad science!”
“Aw come on, Rodney,” Damien laughed. “It’s a great movie. Come on, kid, I’m sure Jas has it somewhere out there.” He and Nath headed for the movie stand in the living room.
Rodney rounded on Jason. “Please tell me you don’t.”
“Sorry,” Jason shrugged. “I do.”
The movie had just ended when the doorbell rang, prompting a rush of crazy barking from Goose. Nate grabbed him as Jason got to the door. A woman stood on the porch, a bag at her feet. “You ordered a turkey, right?”
“Yeah,” Jason grinned, almost ready to hug her just to have the whole ordeal over with. He signed for the turkey and then brought it inside and set it and the gravy on the table with everything else. “Did someone get the green beans out of the oven?”
“Got it,” John called from the living room. “It’s in the microwave.”
Jason found the casserole and set it out too.
Not even ten minutes later, the doorbell rang again and Goose shot off the couch, leaping all over the door as he barked happily. “That must be Jess,” Nate grinned and answered the door. He was immediately tackled by Kevin and Kyle, Jess’ twins. “Hey, boys!” Nate laughed, hugging them.
Jess followed them inside and when her eyes met Jason’s, Jason glared at her. Jess just grinned back sunnily at him.
oOo
Nate stood back and looked at the table. The plates and cups were laid out perfectly, there were even mostly matching place mats. Nath and Grace colored pretty pictures on construction paper for the center piece. Grace’s masterpiece depicted Nath on the top of the slide with a green and brown monster beneath him, John was wearing what looked like a cape as he flew to the rescue.
“This is beautiful, guys,” Jess said, but to Nate, she sounded less than sincere.
True, the food looked a little ragged and worse for the wear, but Nate was willing to put money on the fact that at least most of it was edible.
“Where’d you order the turkey from?” Jess asked as she sat down at the table, Kevin on one side of her and Kyle on the other.
“Really? Jess?” Jason asked, sounding hurt. “Why would you assume that I ordered it?”
“Because the rest of the food looks like it went through a battlefield to be here,” she told him.
Jason sighed, defeated, and Nate wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Hey,” Nate said, softly kissing Jason’s temple. “We did good.”
“Yes, we did,” Rodney said and held up the video camera. “And I have video documentation of the insanity that brought you this meal.”
“You better eat the shit out of everything that has potatoes in it,” Nate said, taking his place at the table. “I bled for this meal.”
“I certainly hope you washed the potatoes after you bled all over them,” Jess said with a chuckle.
“Really Jess?” Jason asked and sat down beside Nate. “Do you think we’re Neanderthals?” He leaned a little closer to Nate and whispered, “We did, didn’t we? Last night is all a blur.”
Nate nodded. “I think so. I remember you washing potatoes.”
Jess groaned and nodded as she grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes. She dipped out a healthy serving and dropped it onto her plate. It plopped with a much louder sound than it should have.
Nate laughed as he saw what was poking out of Jess’ potatoes. “I think I found your phone, Hobbes,” he said and took the phone from Jess after she fished it out of her potatoes.
“So,” Jess said, looking at Rodney. “You say you have video documentation?”
Rodney proudly held up the camera. “Right here,” he said.
“I think next year, I’m going to have to be here for the antics,” she laughed.
Jason groaned and fell against Nate’s shoulder. “No,” he said, “next year, dinner’s at your house.”