SSA Dr. Spencer Reid (
youfeelluckypunk) wrote2015-11-14 10:24 pm
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[turkey day, nov 21]
They've graciously been invited to Derek's Thanksgiving celebration on the actual day itself, but Reid had gotten to thinking after Luke had told him of the invitation that it would be nice to throw a small get-together of their own. Halloween at the bookstore had been a success, after all, and in spite of the fact that they'd been sent to a hellish version of Darrow for the next ten days, Reid had really enjoyed planning and decorating for the holiday with his boyfriend. In a way, it also serves as a bit of a housewarming, even if nobody else needs to know that. They've been officially living together for a week now, though the only real difference is that he's handed over his keys to the Dimera apartment back to the landlord.
Still, being able to call this apartment home, knowing that he gets to spend every night with the man he loves, it means something special to him, and he wants to share that sense of home with the rest of the people he cares about.
So he sends out texts to Alec and Magnus, Peter and Jason and Hild, telling them all to save the date for the twenty-first so they can have an early Thanksgiving celebration. Others are welcome, of course, and Reid suspects they'll have more than enough food because he'd made arrangements for one restaurant in particular (one that he visits often and had already been promoting take-out for Thanksgiving Day) to set him up with a turkey dinner early. There are all the expected fixings, though he'd ordered four turkeys because Luke still needs to eat more to make up for all the weight he'd lost in the alternate version of Darrow, plus a couple pumpkin pies and various other desserts strewn out across the table. The wine Peter had given to him on Halloween is out, available for consumption to those who want it, but Reid will be sticking to water tonight.
If anyone asks, he's been slaving away in the kitchen all day long, brewing coffee after coffee as he and Luke make sure everything looks nice and neat for their first Thanksgiving dinner together. The food is set out over the counter in the kitchen, china and utensils and glassware placed at the very end so people can take what they want and find a place to eat in the living room, where they've placed extra chairs, and it isn't until they hear the first knock at the door that Reid finally decides he's satisfied with the way everything looks.
Every single person who will be here tonight has been through so much, seen more than one person ever should, but tonight, Reid is just grateful that they're all still here.
Still, being able to call this apartment home, knowing that he gets to spend every night with the man he loves, it means something special to him, and he wants to share that sense of home with the rest of the people he cares about.
So he sends out texts to Alec and Magnus, Peter and Jason and Hild, telling them all to save the date for the twenty-first so they can have an early Thanksgiving celebration. Others are welcome, of course, and Reid suspects they'll have more than enough food because he'd made arrangements for one restaurant in particular (one that he visits often and had already been promoting take-out for Thanksgiving Day) to set him up with a turkey dinner early. There are all the expected fixings, though he'd ordered four turkeys because Luke still needs to eat more to make up for all the weight he'd lost in the alternate version of Darrow, plus a couple pumpkin pies and various other desserts strewn out across the table. The wine Peter had given to him on Halloween is out, available for consumption to those who want it, but Reid will be sticking to water tonight.
If anyone asks, he's been slaving away in the kitchen all day long, brewing coffee after coffee as he and Luke make sure everything looks nice and neat for their first Thanksgiving dinner together. The food is set out over the counter in the kitchen, china and utensils and glassware placed at the very end so people can take what they want and find a place to eat in the living room, where they've placed extra chairs, and it isn't until they hear the first knock at the door that Reid finally decides he's satisfied with the way everything looks.
Every single person who will be here tonight has been through so much, seen more than one person ever should, but tonight, Reid is just grateful that they're all still here.
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Jason puts on a McConnell smile before making his way around the room, savoring the variety of smells hanging heavy and delicious in the air; he tries to find comfort from them as his main source of comfort smiles and dazzles the room with his cherub-smile and sparkling eyes.
Jason finds his way to the drinks and grabs a cider for himself, hoping his nerves don't show too obviously.
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The only person he spots alone is Jason, though that seems to be more because he's busy grabbing a drink for himself and trying not to return his gaze to Peter every few seconds than anything else. Smiling to himself, Reid approaches him, nodding back toward the kitchen.
"I'm grabbing some more dessert," he says, "care to join me?"
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And then Spencer approaches, offering him a chance at more delicious food, and how can he refuse?
"I will never say no to more dessert," Jason says, grinning as he makes to follow the other man. "Sounds great, man."
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"Luke told me you got your diploma," he says softly, offering Jason a small smile. "I just wanted to let you know how happy I am for you. We haven't known each other long, but you and Peter are so..." Reid struggles to find the word, though it's not terribly difficult, he's just not sure it encompasses everything he wants to say. "So kind. I didn't have a lot of friends other than the people I worked with where I'm from, maybe I just didn't have the time to find the people who could be patient with me, I don't know; but it seems Darrow's been good for both of us."
In spite of all the horrible things he's seen, in spite of the ten days he and Luke had spent in that other version of Darrow, Reid is still happier here than he thinks he's ever been. This kitchen, it's his to share with the man he loves now, this entire apartment is a place he can call home, and the people in it today are more important to him than some of them may realize. The good outweighs the bad by far, and he ducks his head to hide his widening smile.
"Anyway, I'm not saying I'm going to bug you about going to college or anything, but I'm definitely going to bug you about going to college."
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"Oh yes," he says, visibly relaxing when Reid mentions his recent gift from the city. "I did. With my first paycheck, as it turns out. Funny how that worked out." It seems just odd enough that Jason might even consider it fate. Or destiny. Or whatever people called it nowadays. He stares when Spencer mentions how kind Peter and he have been, a bit blown away by the compliment. "You've been so kind to us. We're just repaying the favor, honestly."
Jason grins, catching sight of Reid's smile, and ducks his head in turn. It feels so much like the old banter between him and Nadia. Even as his heart aches for her, he's happy to have Spencer to help ease the pain of missing his sister.
"Well, lucky for you, I am happy to be bugged about college," Jason replies, feeling giddier than he's ever felt in his life. And not just because of the glass of wine he drank earlier, either.
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It's nothing like the life he'd had back home, not even in the work he's doing, and Reid can't say he doesn't prefer it here.
He nudges the plate toward Jason, pointing out the forks before cutting a slice for himself as he hums his approval. "That's good to hear," he says, smiling because Jason's obvious enthusiasm for his new future is infectious. "Any idea what you want to study? In case nobody's told you this before, don't stress over it if you don't. I imagined myself doing so many different things before I ended up working for the FBI so it's not like you have to make a choice now and stick with it. Things can change, and that's okay."
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"I was kind of considering history or English," Jason admits, taking his plate and toying a bit with the fork as he speaks. "I've always loved those subjects best, I think. I really can't stand math," he adds. His father had so many lofty expectations for him: doctor, lawyer, businessman. All of which felt like another knot in the tightening noose around his neck back home.
"I'll probably play it by ear, to start."
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Still, it's not as if Jason's interests are lesser in some way, and Reid thinks it's at least better to be able to rule out things with certainty rather than waffle for too long.
"We were talking to Peter a bit earlier about school, as well, are you planning to start together? He mentioned starting in the Spring."
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He goes a bit quiet, mentioning his father. Even discussing him with Peter causes Jason headaches and tension in his neck and shoulders.
He brightens again at the mention of Peter, though.
"Oh, yes," he nods, grinning wide. "We were talking about maybe taking a class together or something."
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"My dad left when I was a kid," he says, offering a wry smile as he glances back down at his plate to pick at the pie with his fork. "I didn't see him again for... oh, nearly twenty years. I had my doctorates, had my degrees, and I always said that was my best form of revenge on him but when he saw me, all he could do was ask why I chose to join the FBI. He said I could be making money, work in the private sector, and I just-- even though I already knew, that only secured how impossible it would be to ever have a relationship with him again. He didn't know me at all, he never did."
Shrugging a shoulder, he sets his fork down, suddenly not very keen on eating anymore pie at all. It isn't unusual, he feels sick talking about his father often enough, and it won't be long before the bitterness on the tip of his tongue goes away; but that's hardly Jason's fault, so he tries to make his smile a little more genuine.
"Neither of our dads knew us, it seems. But we're allowed to choose our own paths. I'm glad you're getting the chance to do that here, without your dad hovering over your shoulder."
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He knows, too well, what it's like to have a father that doesn't know or understands his own children, though.
"I lived with my dad and he still didn't know me. Doesn't know me," he corrects, realizing that, back home, he is still dead and buried while his father lives. It's an odd thought; he shovels a piece of delicious pie into his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of it.
"Me too," he adds quietly, thoughtfully, after he chews and swallows. "And I'm so glad I have Peter here with me, too."
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"So." Magnus sidled over as though to refill his glass of cider, but took up a spot standing beside the boy. "How many times have you had to listen to Lady Gaga?"
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Jason turns when Magnus sidles up next to him, offering him a flash of a grin. "More times than I can count. It's okay, though. It was worth it."
He's met Magnus briefly in passing before; how could he not, when Peter spoke so highly of him? He feels a bit less like a wallflower now, with Peter's friend standing next to him.
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"Usually all I get out of it is the honor of making Peter food. And now an employee discount. It doesn't quite work out in my favor."
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"Hey, Peter's food is pretty great," Jason points out, unable to resist standing up for him, as it where.
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"So I've learned," Magnus drawled. "Tonight. Up to this point, he's only moaned about the Hot Pocket situation."
He paused to wrinkle his nose at Jason. "Really, though. Hot Pockets?"
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"It's that, or Slim Jims," he says, suddenly realizing how very much he still sounds like his old, jock persona from high school. He almost winces at the thought.
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He actually stuck out his tongue at the mention of Slim Jims. "How are you still alive?" Magnus marveled. "You poor boy. Did some priest tell you good food was evil?"
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At the mention of the priest though, Jason stiffens. His shoulders tense and his posture immediately straightens, as his laughter fades and his facial expression hardens. Jason hates himself for such a reaction, even as he can't help it.
"I don't really give much weight to the advice of priests," he says with a shrug that he's perfected since the age of twelve.
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"Nor should you," he continued smoothly, pretending to ignore the hitch in Jason's sunny disposition. "Especially in food. They eat cardboard bread and drink poor wine every week." Magnus wrinkled his nose. "A step below Slim Jims in my opinion."
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He does manage a smile at Magnus' response, grateful for it. "And not even, like, good poor wine, you know?" He asks. His heart is still heavy, but this banter with Magnus helps. "And is it actually made of cardboard? I've always wondered about that."