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Chris set the stuffing in the microwave and pressed the timer for four minutes and started it. "Martin?" he asked his lover who was bent over and peering into the over. "How's the turkey, babe?"
"Yeah, ~babe~, how's the turkey?" Buck teased as he took a swig of his beer.
Martin rolled his eyes. "The turkey's fine, and the bird in the oven is looking good too," he said dryly, smiling at Casey's giggles.
Chris snorted and looked at everyone in the kitchen. J.D was snuggled beside his new bride as he offered unhelpful advice, Buck was hovering and generally being in the way, Martin was cookin', (boy was he ever, those jeans were positively sinful), and Ezra was kicked back at the table and enjoying the show. Thank god Josiah, Nathan and Rain were in the living room chatting over the munchie platter.
The ringing of the doorbell made Martin look at Chris in surprise. "I thought everyone was here?" He made a show of counting using his fingers, making Chris smile.
With a shrug, Chris walked through the living room, stealing a celery stick as he passed. He arrived at the heavy oak front door and opened it, and stared at the woman standing there for a moment. She was a lovely woman about his mother's age, with carefully dyed golden brown hair, blue eyes that he recognized and she was wearing a very expensive peach suit.
"Are you going to let me in?" she asked with an amused voice.
Chris blinked. "Oh, sorry Mrs. Fitzgerald," he stepped aside and let Martin's mother, and their very unexpected Thanksgiving guest, into his house. "Um, I'm Chris Larabee."
She nodded. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Larabee. I see that you are not, in fact, the devil incarnate," she replied, her voice dry.
Ah, Victor Fitzgerald, his number one fan. Chris smiled wryly. "Today's a good day, Mrs. Fitzgerald," he said and was rewarded by her soft laugh. He led her into the living room, calling out sweetly, "Oh Martin, your mother is here."
There was the sound of a pan clanging and Buck's laughter, then Martin came in with a curious Buck on his heels. "Mom?"
"Hello, Martin," she kissed her son on the cheek, then looked at all of the men and women in the house. "Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" she asked her thunderstruck son.
Martin winced. "I've forgotten my manners. Mom, this is my team. Left to right, Josiah Sanchez, Nathan and Rain Jackson, J.D. and his new wife Casey, the grinning idiot is Buck Wilmington," he ignored the look of outrage on his friend's face, "Ezra Standish and of course, you've already met Chris. Everyone, this is my mom Elizabeth Fitzgerald."
There were polite greetings, then the sounds of a timer going off. "Crap. Mom, come into the kitchen, would ya? I've got to get the turkey out of the oven," and Martin darted to the kitchen.
Chris recognized Martin's impending nervous breakdown and stopped himself from rubbing his eyes. "C'mon into the kitchen, Mrs. Fitzgerald."
Martin stared at the turkey as it rested on the tray, wondering what in the hell his mother was doing there. He hadn't seen his mother since before he'd left New York, and only spoken to her twice since. He felt Chris's hand on his shoulder and shot him a smile.
"Dinner in twenty."
Chris nodded. "I hope that you can stay for dinner, Mrs. Fitzgerald," he asked as he looked over at Martin's mother.
"I'm sorry to drop in without calling," she said, her eyes taking in the way her son rested against Chris Larabee, the peace plain in the gesture. "My plane developed mechanical problems and had to set down in Denver."
"No, I'm glad you're here," Martin smiled. "What about dad?"
Elizabeth smiled wickedly. "He's at Aunt Grace's."
"Mom!" Martin laughed. "You broke the plane on purpose, didn't you?"
"Aunt Grace?" Chris asked. Martin didn't speak about his family often enough and the honest affection and humor made him curious.
"She's Victor's Aunt on his mother's side," Elizabeth explained.
"She's a pincher," Martin corrected. "Every time we went to her house I felt like my cheeks never were going to be the same," he rubbed a cheek in memory.
Chris grinned and rubbed his lover's cheek fondly. "Ah, looks like you grew out of it, baby."
"C'mon, boys," Buck whined as he came into the kitchen. "My belly is about to gnaw on my backbone. Ain't that bird ready yet?"
"It needs to rest. Twenty minutes, Bucklin," Martin reassured his friend. "Do me a favor and get my mom a chair," he shook his finger. "And not by you, put her between Ez and I. She's not ready for you to be hitting on her."
Martin's mother swallowed a laugh. "I think I'm a little old for him, my dear."
Buck grinned widely. "I believe that all women are beautiful, Missus Fitzgerald," he leered cheerfully.
"Bu-uck," Chris warned and Buck laughed as he went into the living room.
Martin's mother's cheeks were pink and she shook her head. "Oh, he'd be a killer at a fund raiser."
"You have no idea," Chris groaned.
**
After a bit of a stilted start, the team relaxed around Elizabeth. She was quiet, praising the meal and only asking a question here and there as the team reminisced, teased, toasted, told on each other and generally were themselves. It was very different from the way that she and Victor had raised Martin and his sister.
Victor hadn't enjoyed the children when they were small, and she'd been too busy with her career to give them the time and attention they'd obviously craved. But as she watched her son with this disparate group of people, she felt something side of her loosen, something that she hadn't even realized she'd needed to know.
She'd done a little investigative research on her own, making sure that Martin wasn't being harassed about his openly gay life with the head of Team 7. What she'd found instead had stunned her. No one in the ATF cared, or at least no one important enough to do her son damage. Martin and Chris Larabee were well respected and knew their jobs and Team 7 was a legend in law enforcement.
And more importantly, Martin was happy. Chris Larabee obviously loved her son, and didn't care who knew it, and her son was flourishing in that love like a rose. Her cell phone rang, startling her.
"Excuse me," she apologized as she stood. "I need to take this."
Martin nodded. "It's okay, mom."
Once she was out of the room, Buck looked at Martin. "I like her, she seems nice. What happened to you, Junior?"
Martin threw a carrot at Buck who caught it and popped it into his mouth. "Thanks, Buck. I'm just a little surprised that she's here."
Josiah shook his head. "Mother's need to make sure that their children are happy. I'm thankful that she's the kind of mother that cares for you, Martin and that you're back in the fold."
Chris took Martin's hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. "I know that I'm thankful for Martin this year. He's made the darkness that was in my soul fade away. And I couldn't do this without him," he said, his voice husky with love.
Martin smiled at his lover. "I'm thankful that Ezra was kidnapped," he threw a grin at the southerner, "not that you got hurt, Ez. But you are what brought Chris and I together, and I'll always be grateful for that."
Ezra smiled, his green eyes bright. "I'm thankful for mah life, and the fact that ahm here for Thanksgiving this year, and not at mah mother's," there was laughter from around the table at this.
Buck held up his glass of wine. "I'm thankful for women," there were groans at this and a couple of balled up napkins chucked at him, "aaand, that my best friend in the whole world is happy," he saluted Martin and Chris. Chris smiled back at his oldest and dearest friend. Without Buck he'd not have made it this far.
Casey held up hers and J.D.'s hands. "I'm thankful for my new husband and all of my big brother's," she said softly. A chorus of 'ahh's' came from the table.
J.D. kissed her sweetly. "I'm thankful for my wife and the fact that our family is whole again," his eyes went to Martin, who was looking distinctly emotional.
Nathan smiled at his wife before looking at his brothers. "I'm thankful that I have this beautiful woman by my side and that we're all healthy and happy. For a change," more knowing laughter at this little barb. Their last Thanksgiving had included Buck in a cast, Josiah with the flu and Ezra with a gunshot wound.
Rain looked around the table. "I'm thankful for you all in my life. I've been enriched by each and every one of you in my life," she held up her own glass. "We're glad you're home, Martin."
"Here, here," Buck said heartily and everyone took a sip of their drink.
Elizabeth Fitzgerald smiled from the doorway, a little teary eyed.
She was thankful that her son was home.