smartass_captain | The First Annual Adopted Family Thanksgiving

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The First Annual Adopted Family Thanksgiving

It's not that Jim forgot about the second present he gave Verity way back a month ago on her birthday. How could he forget, when he'd had to dig out the key to the house to get it replicated? It's sat out on his desk in his quarters every day since, a bold reminder that Jim Kirk was seriously doing this.

Jim Kirk was going to try to have a normal family. A family who celebrated (some) holidays. A family who came together. Not a relationship. Hell no. But...you know..siblings? A family? He almost worried Sam or his mother would try to reach out to him. Thankfully no such messages yet. Which means Jim is free to spend time with the people he actually wants in his life.

And that means getting Thanksgiving put together.

He'll call Clint later. First things first. Calling Big Sister.

"Verity? It's Jim. You busy?"

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"It's just weird. Being back here all of a sudden. Not bad-weird, just....there's a lot of baggage in this place. Both literal and metaphorical." Jim shrugs and lets the facade of good host drop away for a moment. "I want to make sure that there's some good tied to this place, you know? My ma's side of the family has had this place for generations."

One thing there isn't any of is food, which really makes a lot of sense considering it's been empty for four years. There's a few dehydrated emergency food supplies in the pantry, but that's about it. The pantry and fridge are both bare but clean. There's a small bar area off the side of the kitchen that is still somewhat stocked, big shock there. But underneath the sink has all the typical cleaning supplies, plus a few things reminiscent of the tools a certain bounty hunter uses in her genocides against filth that Verity should be able to figure out. They're not the same, but similar. (Samus' are probably better, alas).

"I guess we should start taking some of these cloths off and see what shape the furniture's in?" Jim gives Clint a look. "I know we've got some basic holiday stuff somewhere around here. Either in one of the spare bedrooms or the attic. First things first though."

Clint nods sympathetically. "S'okay, I know the feeling."

At Jim's suggestion, he takes up a corner of one of the dust-cloths, lifting with a little bit of care. "Sure, let's see how much dust we can kick up. Or not."

She wasn't expecting food; she's glad she doesn't have to clean up anything that old or negotiate with it. Once she knows what she's working with (pots and pans are important!) she'll come out to find the boys again. Oh good, just in time to stop them.

"Leave the dustcloths on until after we've dusted and vacuumed. That way the cleaning doesn't make the furniture dirty. We'll need to clean around the furniture again after they come off, but that won't be so bad. Do you two want to do that while I shop, or are we all doing everything together?" Either way is fine with her. They aren't actually toddlers; she can trust them in the candy aisle, surely? "The kitchen is really nice, by the way. Whoever designed it did a good job."

"But wouldn't we..." Oh no, she's already explaining that part. Well, derp. Jim and Clint look like complete doofs which...is normal for the pair of them, all things considered.

"Uh...I guess we should go with so we can agree on a menu?" Jim looks from Clint to Verity, shrugging slightly. "I think we should inventory what cleaning supplies and decorations if any we're gonna need to get and do all the shopping at once, personally."

Since there's not a cleaning arrow (well... no, Clint. But if... no, Clint. It would just take a-- NO, Clint!), Clint is pretty bad at it. (And don't try to feather-dust something with the fletchings by shooting arrows past it.) But Verity's got a sound plan. "Yeah, that sounds good. Know what we've got to work with, then we know what we gotta get."

She nods as well. "Okay. We'll do that. I got out what I found in the kitchen, lined it up on the counter. We can move whatever else we find in there. There are decorations somewhere?"

You're thinking too narrowly, Clint. Now if you took a leaf blower and--you know what? Maybe just No is easier. If he and Jim are left alone, Verity will come back to the house being some kind of Transformer whose sole purpose is to flick off police officers, shoot arrows, and hit on women. Somehow.

Maybe don't let them out of sight in the candy aisle, either. Wait, that was literal, not 'sporting goods store' secret code. Should be fine then. Can you use Twizzlers pull and peels as a bowstring?

"Uhhhh yeah. There should be a box of generic holiday stuff upstairs somewhere. In one of the spare rooms or the attic. And I know we have a vacuum and some other stuff...uh...Verity want to start a list while I look for appliances and Clint checks for decorations?"

It's probably better not to think about what Clint can use as a bowstring. He is entirely too resourceful for his own good.

"On it!" He's also fairly enthusiastic, and already heading upstairs to poke around.

She'd rather the house stay where it is. It's nicely situated and the garden really bring out its figure.

"Sure thing." Verity will sit on the stairs and pull out her phone. Oh, notes app, how we love you. "So how long are we staying? You keep mentioning bedrooms, are you planning a sleepover? Or are we just calling dibs right now? Because I should warn you, my room's going to be purple."

That should surprise exactly nobody. Clint the least: he remembers the all-purple all-the-time apartment.

"Hey Clint, anything special you want for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Just...in general. Its your guys' home now too. So. My rooms the one next to th'bathroom, but there's two more bedrooms and an extra room that could be made into a bedroom that's just storage right now.

In case neither of them wants Sam's or his folks' room. They can get new stuff if they like. Not like his mother or Sam are ever likely to come home again. Well, his Ma might when she retires, but Jim could care less.

He's following Clint upstairs, giving Verity one last shrug when he hears her ask Clint a question the other probably isn't going to hear in his enthusiasm. "I'll ask him Ver!"

"Cornbread," Clint calls from upstairs, "and cornbread stuffing!" Beat. "Please!" That's better.

It's a few moments after Clint finds the way up to the attic that he gives another yell, and something else gives a loud chitter. Thumps and thuds punctuate his tumble back down the stairs, an irate raccoon giving him what-for. "Gah! I knew I shoulda brought my bow!"

They'll make this a proper home again, slowly but surely. Family dinners, fresh paint, a safe place to come and relax, a haven when they're hurting...

First things first. Turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, cornbread stuffing, green bean casserole, carrots, cornbread, rolls, pumpkin pie, apple pie. No nuts, no shellfish, no strawberries. Easy.

It's going to be a long list since she's starting from scratch to stock the kitchen. Each recipe ingredient list is copied down, item by item, and then consolidated. They can chase that thing in the attic for quite a while before she comes to investigate because this is going to take a while.

Wait.

"...Clint? What was that?"

"Would you shut up about your goddamned bow?!" Jim's kicking at something, trying to stay between Clint and it and fumbling in his pack. "When I said 'don't bring your bow' I didn't think you'd fuck up house cleaning, Clint."

Something clatters to the floor and Jim swears quite loudly in a language neither of them have heard before.

"Shit, stun it, stun it! Get the fucking phaser before it claws your face off!"

"Yeah, this is me. I put a raccoon in your house just so I could fall down the stairs. Behold my master plan," Clint grumbles, trying to fend off the critter with one arm and crawling for the phaser with his other and his hip.

Siiiigh.

"Do I need to get Groot? He's great at racoons."

Yeah she's not going up there. She's a city girl. What is she even going to do with a racoon?

"Why isn't it running away. Did you step on it's motherfucking baby?!" Jim's only mostly successfully keeping the raccoon at bay from Clint, though when he hears Verity he shouts toward downstairs.

"Get a goddamned broom or something! This fucker is pissed!"

"Man, I hope not. I do think I knocked over its house, though. Damn, is it paying you rent?"

Getting ahold of the phaser, Clint realizes he has no idea how to operate it safely, and very little time to look it over while fending off the raccoon. "Aw, how's this work?"

"You guys shoot the racoon and I'm coming after you with the broom." She is so helpful.

Oh, no, wait, here comes some real advice. "Just leave it alone for a while. Let it calm down. We can deal with it later."

"No one's going to kill the raccoon, Jesus!" Jim bends down and grabs the phaser from Clint before that sentence turns into a lie. With the phaser safely on stun (stun is the blue light Clint, red is kill), they can knock it out long enough to carry it outside without everyone in the nearest mile getting rabies. Or whatever future mutated version of rabies exists in Jim's time.

Still kind of weird when the thing just flops over like that.

"Didn't bite you, did it? Emergency room visits over the holidays...how like us, huh?" Jim's scooping the critter up in one arm and helping Clint up with the other. "Get the door for me, I'll take him out to the barn. It'll be safe there till he wakes up."

"Iiii... don't think so?" Clint is checking himself over, now that the raccoon is subdued. "A few scratches, looks like, bumps and bruises, but I think I'm okay. Little guy's kinda cute like that."

A thought. "Maybe he smelled my dog?"

She still thinks they should have let her call Groot. But now that it sounds like the fight is over she'll get up and come upstairs to see what happened. "Okay, how many tetanus shots are we going to need to get?"

"What? None. You didn't slip on anything rusty did you Clint?" Jim didn't think there was anything like that sticking out. He didn't look like he was bleeding. "Should get some ointment on those cuts just to be sure though. Hope your rabies booster is up to date." Though he's an Avenger. His everything is probably mandatory.

"Just need to move this little guy before he comes to in a couple minutes here."

"Just the stairs," Clint answers. "I should be good, on shots. Way I'm in'n'outta hospitals. Didn't I just get one from your doctor guy the other time?"

"Knowing you two, you've probably contracted the Spanish flu or something."

This nearby box will be ceremoniously emptied by being dumped on the floor and then pushed at Jim. "You, deal with that. Clint, let's go find a first aid kit."

"I try not to keep up with all the shit Bones has inoculated me against. Actually I try to avoid being in the medbay at all times, if I'm being honest." Of course, the way his luck runs, that still means he's in there all the time.

"Have fun, first aid kit should be in the downstairs bathroom." Jim adjusts his new little friend in the box and heads out to the barn.

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No, Clint x infinity

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Autohouse: transform and screw up! http://i.imgur.com/iAQyY0p.gif

Aw man, I was gonna use that pic! :(

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Post on ahead without me for a bit, busy evening and Jim's offscreen.