Giving Thanks (fwd-dated to Thursday -gathering)

[notarailrdstory]

This wasn't the life Cullen ever foresaw for himself. Of course, there was no way to predict he'd find himself in the future, working in a "drag" bar with an adopted kind of family (and a special someone he might or might not have been courting...). With the week off, he took it upon himself to make sure those near him had a meal to celebrate

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[n0tamusketeer]

What did a Musketeer bring to a holiday he didn't understand?

Booze.

He figured it was a safe bet. Hence that was why he was at the door with a bottle in a strange-feeling flimsy bag given to him by the merchant, wearing, still his garb (minus, though, most of his weapons, seeing as it was a holiday).

He knocked, prepared lest someone decide they wanted to come at him for courting Michonne.

[n0tamusketeer]

"I do not wish to interfere in your relationship," d'Artagnan said, sincerely. "Perhaps he will warm to me." Perhaps, he could offer to teach the boy some fighting skills?

[goodwitha_sword]

"You won't interfere." Michonne didn't believe that Carl would take issue with her relationship choices. Or at least she didn't think he would. "I'm sure he'll like you once he gets to know you. People where we're from... it's hard to trust easy."

[n0tamusketeer]

Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. "From what I was told, this holiday seems to involve cooking a large fowl."

[goodwitha_sword]

She smiled at the squeeze, returning the favor with hers. "Yes, a turkey. I'm looking forward to it-- this will be the first Thanksgiving I've had in years." Not a whole lot to be thankful for after the last. The last one she'd had with Mike and... she shook off the flash of pain that crossed her face. "And there's pie."

[n0tamusketeer]

"Michonne ... " d'Artagnan could be very observant; the look did not go unnoticed. "What is it?"

He did like pie, in case that came up again.

[goodwitha_sword]

Michonne frowned, wishing he wasn't so observant. "It's nothing." Which sounded more like a request to just let it go, she took his hand toward the set table. They'd be eating soon after all.

[n0tamusketeer]

He wouldn't press at that moment; that wouldn't be fair. But he'd ask later.

As it was, he heaped his plate full of food when his turn came. This reminded him of meals at the Garrison.

"My compliments to the cooks," he offered to the table. "It is delicious."

[goodwitha_sword]

Later, maybe she'd tell him. But certainly not right now. She filled up her plate too, lots of turkey, plenty of sweet potatoes and the cranberry.

It was all very good. "Happy Thanksgiving." Michonne pipped up to everyone at the table. It was the thing to say after all.

[n0tamusketeer]

The food was all so good, if salty (so much food in this place was so salty). d'Artagnan ate a goodly portion of it all. As he started to slow, he rested a hand on Michonne's thigh.

[goodwitha_sword]

A jolt went up her leg, from his fingers up her leg and then spine. Swallowing her last bit of turkey, she gave him a bit of a sidelong glance. "Did you want any pie? I was going to get myself a slice of the pumpkin."

[n0tamusketeer]

"I think I need to try all that this holiday has to offer, yes," he said, smiling with dark eyes. "Might I be of assistance?"

[goodwitha_sword]

She bit down her smile, nodding, as she started to get up, heading toward the kitchen, "You can get the plates."

[n0tamusketeer]

"I will be happy to," he said, rising to follow. He gave the table a smile as he excused himself to follow Michonne into the kitchen.

[goodwitha_sword]

Michonne went toward the pie once in the kitchen, giving him a wink as she coyly pretended that was her only real motive once they were alone.

[n0tamusketeer]

When they were alone, d'Artagnan rested his hands on her hips and pulled her close. "It's good to see you again," he whispered.