Who: Mr. and Mrs. Smith and featuring Little Brother Wash What: It’s time two brothers-in-law met When: This evening Where: Wash and Carolina’s apartment Rating/Warnings Lowish; Expect some coarse language Status:
When Dan had woken up in Vegas married to a beautiful and foul tempered red-head he had expected the marriage to be short lived. He had not expected to be standing in her kitchen cooking a dinner of chicken Parmesan and being side-eyed by her younger brother, who was now Dan’s brother-in-law for the foreseeable future.
Fucking guy was a marine too (Dan should have seen that coming) and, as if that wasn’t enough, he was a goddamn bounty hunter! Dan had no bounties hanging over his head or warrants out for his arrest and technically the brother wasn’t actual law enforcement, it made Dan itchy nonetheless.
So he may have been taking a little longer in the kitchen than was really necessary. He could have easily used store bought sauce, however, making the sauce himself not only tasted better, it kept him in the kitchen and away from stony grey eyes that were incredibly hard to read.
When the newly-minted Mr. and Mrs. Smith had returned from Vegas, it had not seemed necessary to introduce Wash to his new brother-in-law. After all, it wasn’t as if she was keen on the idea that she was no longer single and determined to flaunt her new husband to those she cared about. The opposite, in fact. The divorce papers had been filed almost before the ink on their marriage certificate was dry.
Her recall orders had changed everything. Carolina had been the one to offer Dan her benefits, even though that would require that they stay married. That he had not only agreed to the marriage, but he even offered to give those benefits to her brother instead had caught her completely off guard. After that, it would have felt like an insult to not at least let him meet her family. Or at least the family she actually liked. Besides, if Dan did need to show up at their apartment for any reason while she was away, she would rather Wash not shoot first and ask questions later.
Since Vegas, there had been precious few times when Carolina had found amusement in the fact that she was married to a stranger. Today, however, was one of them. The fact that Dan could actually cook had come as a pleasant surprise. The Marine had given him the run of their kitchen to make dinner, provided he did not bring or use any alcohol. She had made a giant pitcher of peach sweet tea for the occasion and was currently seated at the table watching the ‘dinner theater’. “Need any help in there?” She called, amused smirk hidden behind her glass.
The smirk was hidden in her glass, but it was still in her voice. The look Dan shot her stated very clearly that he found nothing about this situation at all amusing. “No, darlin’, I be doin’ jus’ fine.” He would have been doing better if he had a glass of something in his hand. Wine would have been preferred, but seeing as Carolina had made it crystal clear that there was to be no alcohol at this little party (she hadn’t said as much, but Dan had certain suspicions about why this was the case, all of which centered around this brother of hers), he had to make due with the tea provided.
He took a drink of that tea, wished again that it was wine, and turned back to what he was doing. He again ignored the scrutinizing looks he was getting from Wash (what kind of name was that anyway?)
For his part, Wash was thoroughly enjoying this whole Protective Brother schtick. He probably would only get away with doing this once and then probably never again. Carolina had told him, of course, that she and Dan were going to stay married. He sort of understood her reasoning, even though she couldn’t quite put it into words adequately. There was some comfort in knowing someone was at home waiting for you. He really hadn’t had it for himself, but he’d heard the way the others would talk about family and loved ones left behind. He did find it incredibly amusing the kind of man his sister had chosen for herself.
It wasn’t written anywhere on his face, though. Oh, no. He was playing this part straight to the hilt and for as long as he could possibly get away with it. The guy looked so uncomfortable. It was hilarious. Just wait until he met Anna.
Wash knew Dan was trying desperately to hide in the kitchen. And for his part, Wash allowed him to have full run of the kitchen. For now. He had parked himself just inside the kitchen door, hip leaning against the kitchen counter. Nothing in his hands, arms folded. “Where did you say you were from?” He asked.
“Detroit” Came the single word answer.
“Mmm,” Wash answered. Though he filed the answer away as something important, the shrug of his shoulder and tone of voice was dismissive. “You have an interesting accent for coming from that area.”
“Grew up inna Irish neighborhood,” Dan explained tightly, stirring his sauce perhaps a bit more vigorously than needed.
“Ah, ok,” Wash nodded. Paused for a moment. “But you’re cooking us Italian?”
Dan stopped, looked at Wash, frowned, and then shot that look again at Carolina. Really. This was what she wanted him to meet.
Carolina caught the look from Dan and was certain that her glass was not wide enough to hide her grin. Oh, she knew exactly what Wash was doing and she was not about to put a stop to it. This was too damn hilarious. Wash had stopped with most of the crude comments concerning Kanan after fighting alongside him, but a meeting over dinner was a far cry from fighting stormtroopers.
Actually, now that she thought about it, she had never seen Dan fire a weapon. Oh, she knew he could and did since he was able to make a living as a hired gun. He also knew what to look for in terms of modifications in her own sidearms. Still, Carolina was not entirely sure she would want him to be the one watching her back on the battlefield. Nor was she sure that Dan would be okay with her at his back.
Maybe that would change. Maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, Carolina had a feeling that her husband was not finished surprising her. Just as long as those surprises don’t come with a denied clearance.
Setting down her glass, Carolina gave Dan an oblivious look that she knew he wouldn’t buy for a second. “Smells good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen marinara sauce made from scratch.” Dancing green eyes never left the uncomfortable chef. “Have you, Wash?”
“Nope,” Wash answered with a glance at his sister. Eyes immediately went back to the scruffy man in his kitchen.
Dan gave Carolina a flat look. Who the fuck did she think she was kidding. She was enjoying this a little too much and Dan wondered if her ploy at staying married was some elaborate set up just to see him squirm under her brother’s rather intense and paranoid glare. Maybe this was delayed payback for Vegas.
Pale blue raised slightly to meet Wash’s. He bit hard on the comment that had sprung immediately to mind: What kind of name is Wash? Were you named after the appliance your father bent your mother over? No. Too far, Dannyboy. Let Carolina have her fun tonight. He would make her pay him back later. Maybe bent over the washer…
“I figured it’d be a better first impression than somethin’ from the store,” Dan answered. He returned his attention back to his sauce, taking a little more care now that he had an end goal in mind. “There was an Italian family I knew growin’ up. The mom made all ‘er sauce from scratch an’ she taught me.”
Wash raised a brow. He saw something flash across Dan’s eyes, a tightening at the temple. But whatever heat the man had built up, he diffused it rather quickly. He had to give the man a little credit there. “Well, alright,” Wash nodded after exchanging a glance with Carolina. “I hope it’s as good as it smells.”
“Homemade Italian does make one hell of a first impression.” The look on Carolina’s face mirrored her brother’s as they exchanged glances. Sure, she was probably enjoying this a bit too much, but she figured if the goading from Wash went too far she could always make it up to Dan later. To be fair, she’d probably enjoy that too. She had always been a fan of win-win scenarios.
It was also the first time she had heard him talk about his life growing up. Other than their divorce proceedings and more recently his first hit, the two of them had not done much in the way of talking. It was a good arrangement. That didn’t stop her from actively filing away new information, though. Arrangements could always change. Their marriage plans certainly had. Besides, Dan wasn’t a bad guy, just damn infuriating.
She had half a mind to go into the kitchen and at least make a salad, but she didn’t want to get in the way of whatever professional-type cooking Dan was engrossed in. Instead, she stood and walked over to the entryway, pausing beside Wash in the doorway.
“Are those fresh herbs? Those go at the end, right?” A few nights ago she had inadvertently caught a few shows on the Food Network the other night. She had originally left it on as background noise while working on some Agency files. Two hours and five episodes of Good Eats later, she had been paying more attention to the television than her laptop. Cooking had never really caught her interest, but even she had to admit that learning the science behind the various dishes was actually rather interesting.
Dan didn’t like having both the siblings at the doorway to the kitchen blocking his only way out should he decide that he was done with this evening, future rewards from Carolina be damned. He glanced at the two of them out of the corner of his eye.
When Dan had first been introduced to Wash earlier that evening he had wondered if the man really was Carolina’s brother. They’d appeared to share no physical traits. He was blond, she had flaming hair. His eyes were stormy grey, hers a shocking shade of green. Facial feature were all wrong between the two of them. However, the two of them standing side by side, Dan saw…something. There may have been no physical traits that linked them together, but their expressions. The way Wash was looking at him: scrutinizing, eyes slightly narrowed, watching his every move and coming to some well calculated conclusions. And his posture: relaxed and leaning against the counter, but decidedly closed off, arms crossed, one knee slightly bent, as if at any moment he would move and move with a quickness one would not assume from him. Dan had seen the exact same look and stance from Carolina on more than one occasion.
It was a little unsettling actually. “Yea,” he answered about the herbs, letting his own eyes go back to the meal he was preparing. A pleasant smell of cooking chicken and garlic was heavy in the apartment and had garnered the attention of a german shepherd Dan had been doing very well at ignoring since he’d entered the apartment and now a cat was making its presence known in the living room by yowling.
Wash gave a grunt and for the first time all evening, turned his attention from the man in the kitchen to the cat. She had appeared at the doorway of the kitchen as well, rubbing up against his legs and purring loud enough that even Dan could hear it.
“You ate already,” Wash informed the cat. “Not only that, but you helped Sophie eat her dinner too.” The cat meowed and continued her rubbing. Wash tried to gently tried scoot her out of the kitchen with his foot only to have the cat roll onto her back and attack his foot as though it were made of the chicken currently cooking.
The muffled sound of pain from the marine made Dan grin. Just a little bit.
Carolina didn’t quite roll her eyes, but it was a close thing. As intimidating as Wash could be, as dangerous and deadly as he could be, the man had a tendency to make, well, rookie mistakes. Like trying to shoo Suda away with his foot while trying to make an impression on his apparent brother-in-law. It was only a matter of time before something surprised him enough to shatter the persona he was currently nurturing.
She nudged him with her shoulder on her way into the kitchen. “I’ll get the plates.” Sophie, the german shepherd, was close on her owner’s heels. The dog took up a posting position between Carolina and Dan, not letting the latter out of her sights. Much like Dan, Carolina was choosing to ignore the steady growl behind her as she pulled out a few plates. Best not to discourage the shepherd from good behaviour toward strange men. So long as no teeth were bared. Then she’d be forced to step in. For Sophie’s sake.
There were not many things that could be used as serving plates in the Church household, so unless Dan felt like plating on a cookie sheet, each plate would need to be done individually. She set the stack of plates on a free spot on the counter before heading to the silverware. Did Italians use spoons for this dish? God, that sounded too damn fancy.
The kitchen wasn’t small, but three people and a dog was definitely a crowd. “Wash, why don’t you clear the table.” And get rid of the cat.
To be fair, Wash knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up the Intimidating Brother Act up for very long. Smith had made it clear he wasn’t the type to intimidate easily, and that was impressive. Besides, as long as people still assumed Wash to be the Rookie, they were taken completely off guard when he did show his competent side, and that always worked in Wash’s favor.
He cast a glance at Carolina and shrugged before pushing off from the counter. “Yeah, fine,” he said and then scooped up Suda. “C’mone you beast. The boss has given us an order.” With that he left the kitchen with the protesting cat.
Once Wash was gone, Dan glanced over his shoulder. “So that’s yer brother, huh?” He raised a brow at Carolina. Sophie the dog was dangerously close to Dan’s backside at this point, but Dan still didn’t acknowledge her. He’d dealt with several ill-tempered dogs before. At least Sophie had been well trained. So long as she didn’t look as though she was going to bite Dan’s ass, he was fine letting her sit there and growl softly at him. Whatever. “Don’ think he likes me much,” he turned back to the food. “Yer dog dosen’ like me either. Gettin’ the feelin’ like I’m not much wanted ‘ere. Kinda too bad considerin’ I’m goin t’ all this trouble t’ make you all dinner.”
Glancing back at Dan, Carolina couldn’t help the small smile that threatened her lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get to eat some of that food before they start shooing you out the door.” She set down the silverware on beside the plates. Might as well help him serve while she was there. Sophie couldn’t quite figure out how to stay between the two of them, so the dog settled for watching and growling just behind them. Hopefully Dan knew better than to try and feed her some human food to try and garner rapport with the dog. Not that it wouldn’t work, but it would make her owner frown at him severely.
“He doesn’t trust very easily, but he’s one you want to have at your back in a firefight.” The words wouldn’t carry out to the man in question, but she felt they needed to be said anyway. It was something she was sure Dan could relate to, as he also didn’t exactly come off as the trusting type. Carolina wished she could see his reaction to meeting Wash’s girlfriend. The two of them were definitely opposite ends of the spectrum.
Curiosity was getting the better of her, though. Slowly but surely she was inching her way over to see exactly what Dan was doing to the sauce and the chicken. He had said he’d learned how to make this from an Italian woman and she hadn’t seen him use any form of a recipe. “Do you cook a lot?” Carolina had long mastered the art of cooking with MREs, but that usually required some form of pre-cooked or at least pre-measured food. Had he memorized the recipe? Was there some form of instinct required or was it merely a question of practicing enough? Dammit, she was going to have to watch more of those shows.
Being shooed out the door wasn’t necessarily a bad thing considering how this evening was going, but Dan would appreciate getting to at least taste what he was cooking before that happened. He merely shrugged at Carolina in response and continued to ignore the growling dog. No table scraps for her.
Her slow encroachment on his space didn’t go unnoticed either. He eyed her out of the corner of his eye, annoyed, but amused. “Used to,” he answered her. The sauce was bubbling slightly in the pot and he gave it a gentle stir. “It was jus’ me and my da while I was growin’ up. ‘E cooked awright, but his shifts were long an’ ‘e wasn’ always ‘ome fer dinner. That Italian family I tol’ ya about? They lived jus’ down the street. ‘Ad a whole soccer team worth o’ kids an’ one o’ their middle boys an’ me were in the same class. The mother didn’ like the idea o’ me eatin’ alone so I ‘ad dinner with them a lot. The mother offered t’ teach me. She said somethin’ like ‘Give a man a fish an’ ye feed’im fer a day, teach a man t’ fish an’ feed’im fer life.’ An’ followed it up wit’ how ‘ard my Da works t’ keep us all safe an’ I was old enough t’ help out. So she taught me t’ cook. An’ after that I did alla the cookin’ fer Da an’ me.”
He reached across the stove to turn off the burner and then thrust a pot holder at Carolina. “If yer gonna be in ‘ere make yerself useful an’ take the chicken out o’ the oven.”
Carolina took the pot holder, still side-eyeing the pot of sauce. She waited until Dan was out of the way before opening the oven and pulling out the chicken. Wow. That smelled good. No recipe for her to steal either. Damn. Now she wished she’d paid more attention to what he had been doing. Hm. Maybe Wash had. She’d ask him later.
Far from lonely, hearing Dan’s story of the Italian family next door seemed quaint, comforting. Eating alone as a child was something she could relate to all too well. So could Wash. The difference was that their father nor his stepfather was not out doing something good. Carolina’s “uncles” had been nothing more than her mother’s old squadmates, but they had done their best to reach out to her. It had been easy to keep up the facade when none of them really spoke to her father.
“My aunts never taught me how to cook.” Pulling a spatula from the drawer, Carolina set it on top of the plates. The chicken looked far too hot to move just yet. So she waited. “They had their hands full with their own kids, really. I wouldn’t go over to their house more than once or twice a week, but every time I did, dinner would already be waiting. I think they wanted me to focus on being a kid instead.” Considering she had been making weekly food and utility budgets since she was five, that might not have been a bad idea on their parts.
Besides her brother, Carolina had never talked about family before. Then again, neither had talked about their personal lives with the other much, if at all. The most personal their conversations had ever become was when Carolina had forced his hand at his apartment a couple of weeks earlier. Even then it had been more about him and not so much her. Dan had gotten the impression long ago that Carolina was an intensely private person. He respected that. He was too.
However, what she said about her aunts got him wondering about things he knew wasn’t his business. Like why she spoke of her aunts and not her mother and father. She said “I” instead of “we” in regards to visiting them, meaning her brother didn’t go with her. She said her aunts wanted her to be a kid which told Dan that Carolina hadn’t had the luxury of youth the way most had. Something may have happened to her parents. A divorce? A death? Or maybe one or the other just wasn’t there. Dan wondered if poking that bear would be a good idea.
Seeing Wash reappear at the kitchen door, Dan decided that tonight wasn’t a good night to poke anything that may be a gaping wound. “Shame that,” he smirked at her. “I guess yer jus’ gonna ‘ave t’ rely on my cookin’, t hen.”
“You’re pretty full of yourself,” Wash observed. “We haven’t even tasted it yet.”
“I’m full o’ myself fer good reason,” Dan shot him a look. “Go sit, an’ prepare yerself fer the best chicken parm ye’ve ever ‘ad.”