Hannah, Quinn, Andy, and some Abbotts: Meatloaf Night
Who: Hannah, Quinn, Andy, and various Abbotts When: Tuesday evening, 3/4 (backdated to a week ago) Where: Quinn's flat What: Grandpa Frank's family meeting backfires, and a third of the Abbotts decide to crash meatloaf night instead.
The flat was full of the smell of meatloaf baking, a cozy, homey smell that almost pushed the conversation with Grandpa Frank from Hannah's mind. Almost. The main reason she'd made it was because it was a fantastic comfort food--at least when made well--but the truth was that it was also a frugal choice, as were the vegetables and type of lettuce she'd picked up for the salad and baked potatoes at the grocer--not her usual grocer, but the one farther down Diagon Alley. The last two days had made it clear that there was a very real chance that both of them could get cut off in the near future--well, that Quinn could get cut off completely again, considering he was already cut off, other than his rent and the soul money they got every month. Of course, she made a decent salary at the Ministry, and the album was coming out, so she wasn't worried that they'd be out on the streets, but practising a little restraint seemed like a good strategy for the moment.
She finished tearing up lettuce leaves into the colander and levitated it over to the sink, where it shook back and forth under running water to wash the lettuce. Turning from the sink, she went over to the oven and opened it, bending down to check on the meatloaf and potatoes. It looked like everything would be done, and right on time.
Coming up behind Hannah, Quinn slid his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "It smells fantastic in here," he murmured, tracing his lips up towards her ear.
The warmth on her cheeks from the oven was quickly replaced by one coming from inside. "It should. My mum's recipe is brilliant."
"I think some credit has to go to the current chef," he argued, pulling her back against him and away from the oven, pushing her against the counter. "How long do we have till Andy gets here again?"
"Um...." She glanced at the clock on the wall out of the corner of her eye, only dimly aware that there was water running into the sink. "Twenty-five, thirty minutes, depending on how close Megan cuts it before she Apparates." She looked up at him again, lifting her eyebrows. "And I really hope he doesn't have the same reaction to the smell that you do."
"Too bad if he does," Quinn laughed, trying to ease her out of the kitchen and back towards their room. "That's Megan's problem, not mine! Unless you have a thing for Psychic fortune cookie writers?" he amended, raising an eyebrow.
"No, only song-writing musicians," she said, following his lead until she remembered why the water was running. She dug her heels into the floor to stop him from pulling her further. "If we go where I think you're trying to take me, the kitchen is going to flood and that fantastic smell will turn to a fantastically burnt smell."
Quinn rolled his eyes. "So go turn the sink off and the oven down. We'll be quick!" he argued, returning his lips to her neck again. "I think we should build up an appetite. Cut down on the amount of meat Andy is not going to have to eat."
"Quinn..." she said, her head tilting to the side as his lips brushed down her neck. "I...I can't just turn the oven down. It won't cook properly."
"Tell Tilly to take it out then when it's time. She won't mess it up," he insisted, trying to walk her back again. "It's already made, it just needs to be watched."
Her feet took a few steps without consulting her brain. "She's never made meatloaf before."
"What does she have to do besides take it out of the oven?" he asked, not letting her hesitation pause his trek to their bedroom.
Hannah bit her lip. "Um...she has to...well, she has to know when to take it out of the oven."
"So tell her when," Quinn said, enunciating each word as he kissed up towards her ear.
"It's not a matter of time," she said, turning her face so her forehead pressed against his, tilting his chin down and his lips away from her. Although, it didn't help that she just ended up staring at his lips instead of into his eyes. "You have to check."
"Is it going to be ready in the next fifteen minutes?" he asked, nudging her nose with his to tilt her head back again.
Her lips met his, but she held back, not quite kissing him. "Probably not for a little longer than that."
"Then we have plenty of time!" he exclaimed gleefully, swiftly bending down to scoop her up into his arms and began to head towards the room once more.
"Quinn!" she protested, squirming in his arms. "The water's still running!"
"Oy Bubbles! Turn the water off!" Quinn yelled over his shoulder, tightening his arms around Hannah and pushing the partially open bedroom door fully open with a tap from his foot - closing it swiftly with a back kick of his heel. "Now. Any more objections?"
Hannah glanced from the closed door to Quinn's face. "Yes. I object to the fact that this is all over meatloaf."
"What can I say? Just the smell is an aphrodisiac!" he laughed, dropping her on their bed and falling next to her with an arm draped across her waist to keep her in place. "Now, the more you object the longer I'll have to persuade you. Andy will eat the meatloaf either way - but the quality is purely dependent on how cooperative you are."
"Then we'd better hurry, if my reputation's at stake," she said, raising her eyebrows as she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him to her.
Quinn had only just divested them both of most of their clothing when a knock sounded at the door. Of course. The one time Andy decided to be early. Rolling his eyes, he sat up and turned towards the wall. "BUBBLES!" he yelled. "Get the door and tell Andy to cool his heels!" Letting out a breath, he dropped back to Hannah. "Now... where was I?"
Hannah pecked him on the lips and then tried to slide out from under him. "Putting your clothes back on."
"Oh please. If Megan would let him he'd leave us standing till they finished as well," Quinn scoffed, dragging her back and pressing his lips firmly to hers - the sound of Bubbles opening the front door lost on him.
She ducked her head back into the pillow. "Quinn, we can pick this up later."
"But it's fun now," he protested before groaning and falling to the side. "Fine, fine. But definitely later!"
Hannah rolled onto her side and kissed his cheek. "Definitely. I--" Her eyes went wide and nostrils flared as she stopped and listened. She heard voices from the living room--familiar voices, and Andy's definitely wasn't one of them.
She reached toward their clothes on the floor and started throwing Quinn's at him. "Hurry...get dressed!" she hissed. "That's not Andy!"
Quinn's brow furrowed. "What do you mean that's not--" Suddenly his mouth dropped open. "Hannah! That's... your Uncle... and... your father!!" he hissed back throwing her clothes at her as he jumped back into his trousers and tried to right his shirt again.
"I know," she said, pulling on her shirt and skirt, only to catch sight of herself in the mirror and see that she'd gotten her shirt on inside out. She ripped it off over her head and turned it right before putting it back on. "And...Victoria, I think, or maybe that's Aunt Annette...why did Bubbles just let them in?"
Before Quinn could answer Bubbles materialized before them with her eyes squeezed shut. "Bubbles is not caring what she is interrupting. Miss Pigeons family is wanting to visit. Bubbles told them that Miss Pigeon and Master Quinian is getting ready for dinner with Mister Lite. They said they will be waiting. Bubbles is leaving now."
Without waiting for a response, the elf disappeared again, leaving Quinn to shrug as he tried to tame his hair. "Huh. Well that was rather nice of her."
"Very," Hannah said, frowning at her reflection over Quinn's shoulder. She quickly smoothed her hair down and then held her hands against her cheeks in a vain attempt to cool them down. "I guess she couldn't exactly leave them waiting in the hallway, but...my dad's out there. And we look like...we look like what we look like!"
"They should know not to just drop in! What do they think we'd be doing?!" he muttered, hoping he didn't look he'd just been about to ravish a former Auror's daughter - again - and more like he'd been rushing to get ready. "All right. Let's go," he said grimly, turning to her and reaching for the door.
Hannah followed him out and down the hallway, straining to hear what everyone was talking about in the living room. "It certainly smells like Elizabeth's meatloaf," she heard Uncle Thad saying before she could see him. "Which, if memory serves me correctly, means they're probably--and there's the happy couple now!" Uncle Thad beamed at them over the top of a rather extravagant fruit basket.
Looking around at the group, which included Victoria and Ben as well as her father and uncle, Hannah turned bright red, which was possibly a good thing if it covered up the fact that her cheeks were already flushed. "Hi," Hannah said, giving them all a tentative, confused smile. "I didn't know you were planning to come by."
"We didn't either," Victoria said, rolling her eyes, "but Grandpa called this ridiculous family meeting and Uncle Thad thought we should come over and offer our congratulations, both on the moving in together and on getting Grandpa so fabulously riled up!"
Ben grinned like he was loosing the battle against breaking out in laughter. "So, congratulations on shacking up!"
"Indeed!" Uncle Thad said, holding out the large fruit basket. "This was all we could manage on the way here, but whether or not marriage is involved, making a commitment to a lifelong and mutually fulfilling relationship is a truly momentous occasion, and I highly believe that it should be celebrated. Which is why we'd like to throw you a reception."
"I tried to stop them," her father said from where he stood near the couch, arms crossed over his chest.
Hannah took the basket from Uncle Thad, nearly stumbling under the weight. "Um...thanks? Although...we don't really need a reception."
"Nonsense!" Uncle Thad said, his eyes lit up with delight. "You're a woman now. These rites of passage must be properly observed!"
"Please tell me this isn't happening," Hannah whispered to Quinn from behind the leaves of the topmost pineapple in the fruit basket.
"Oh I love fruit!" Quinn exclaimed, taking the the basket from her. "Thanks! This is our first fruit basket," he told the group seriously, heading to the kitchen counter to set the basket down and beginning to go through it. "Are you guys staying for meatloaf too? Or is this just a fly by visit? Either way, uh, this is the flat... that's about it."
"We'd love to stay for dinner!" Uncle Thad said, following Quinn along with Ben and Victoria. Mentally, Hannah rehearsed the spells to multiply the portions. "Especially since we ended up walked out on ours. But, you must give us a proper tour."
Hannah's eyes went wide as she thought of the state the bed covers were in at the moment. "Oh, well...really, it would be better to do a proper tour after we're done redecorating."
"Yeah, you can't even see the room. My curtains have been permastuck to my windows since I moved in," Quinn explained as he held up an oddly arranged banana and peach pairing. "Hannah's working on trying to fix that. No luck so far."
Ben laughed. "At least she has to help this time."
"Well, you can tell us about your plans," Uncle Thad said with a broad gesture of his hand. "Perhaps we can be of some assistance. We just had some work done in the east wing of the manor, actually."
"Nothing pink or girly," Quinn repeated, trying to juggle some figs and a pomegranate, dropping one of the figs on the floor on the process. "Oh! Pidge, is the meatloaf ready?"
"Oh, right!" Hannah said, and hurried over to the oven and opened the door. "A few minutes left, I think, but I should finish the salad."
"Need some help with that, coz?" Ben asked, heading for the colander full of lettuce in the sink.
"Sure--"
"I'll set the table," Victoria chimed in, setting about opening every cupboard before getting to the one with the plates.
"That is a task I think I may be able to assist with," Uncle Thad said, opening drawers, presumably in search of the silverware.
"Thanks," Hannah said, smiling, her embarrassment starting to give way to amusement. At least they were being supportive--no, enthusiastic. But even as she thought that, she couldn't help but notice that her family members who weren't there outnumbered the ones who'd come. Pushing that thought aside, she started showing Ben what still needed to be done on the salad.
John leaned against the end of the counter near Quinn, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "How's unmarried life treating you?"
"It's a lot more peaceful," Quinn admitted, unpeeling a banana. "But... that's quickly going to hell. I've gotten her a little better now than she was last night. It's good that you guys came by though. She's smiling," he pointed out.
The furrow between John's eyebrows deepened as he glanced over at Hannah, and then back at Quinn. "I was afraid of that. It didn't sound like he'd responded to the news with much tact or understanding."
"Well considering he heard from my father, who responded by glaring and leaving the room muttering, I'm sure what he thinks is going on is greatly distorted," Quinn muttered. "I'm going to try to intercept him tomorrow. At least let him have it out at me and maybe be able to explain a little. I doubt it, but I promised her I'd try."
"How are your shield charms?" John asked, concern etching itself further into his expression.
"Not as good as they could be," Quinn admitted, his voice sheepish. "But it'll be in the bar of the Paragon, so I hope it somewhat limits him."
The corner of John's mouth quirked up. "You'd be surprised. You'd think being in the Wizengamot court rooms would have that sort of effect, too. Not really."
"I'll be fine," Quinn insisted, breaking a piece of the banana off and chewing it. "I just want him to get it out of his system. So he doesn't take it out on her."
John nodded. "It might work. It's worth a shot, anyway," he said. "He'll come around eventually. I hope he will, anyway. He's always adored her, from the moment she was born, so I don't think he can hold this grudge forever. And if he doesn't...the other things he's throwing at her can can be resolved without him in time."
"I just want us to be able to get along with one side of our families, at least, you know?" Shrugging, Quinn finished his banana and tossed the peel into a nearby rubbish bin. "And there's no way it'll be mine."
"I heard you stuck it to them pretty good," John said, raising his eyebrows.
"It was the best Sunday dinner yet!" Quinn laughed. "The look on my father's fa--" the sound of a knock on the door echoed through the commotion in the flat and Quinn turned towards it. "Do you have any more family coming," he asked John, "or is it really Andy this time?"
John shook his head. "Not unless someone had a change of heart already."
"Huh." Shrugging, Quinn pushed himself away from the counter and headed to the door, opening it enough to see who it was before holding it open more.
"Quinton! Hello!" Andy said, grin at full force. "Am I late? I could smell dinner the moment I stepped off the lift."
"Dinner or Abbotts?" Quinn asked, rolling his eyes as he held the door open. "Half of Hannah's family decided they wanted meatloaf as well. Very unexpectedly."
Coming in through the doorway, Andy eyed the gaggle of blondes (if he ignored Hannah's uncle) bustling from kitchen to table with wide, wary eyes. "They're not going to testify against me on the eat-may, are they?"
Quinn tilted his head as he considered the group before he stuck his forefinger and thumb into his mouth and whistled loudly to grab everyone's attention. "Hey! One rule with meatloaf night. If you happen to talk to anyone whose name starts with an M and rhymes with Pagan - he only had salad," Quinn called out, pointing at Andy and nodding. "Otherwise... no meatloaf."
Uncle Thad looked around the room. "I don't have a problem with that. Do any of you?"
Ben laughed, shaking his head. "No, we can be his enablers."
"Fantastic," Andy said, taking off his jacket. "I've been dreaming of this all day."
"I've been smelling it all day. Makes it much worse," Quinn laughed, heading into the kitchen and to the wine rack against the wall.
Hannah's cheeks turned slightly pink as she glanced up at Andy from where she was pulling the meatloaf in question out of the oven. "Don't breathe in too deeply. You never know what kind of side effects it might have."
Andy closed his eyes and inhaled until his ribs were puffed up like a balloon. "Never fear, I am one with the meatloaf. It's sacred aroma shall pass through me peacefully without doing any harm."
"Just save it for later, the missus won't know what hit her," Quinn muttered as he passed Andy on the way to the table, raising an eyebrow significantly. "Anyone object to a Cabernet?" he called out in a louder voice, holding up the bottle before he opened it.
"Not at this table," John said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Thad. "Sounds perfect with meatloaf, anyway."
"I got this bottle last time I visited my Aunt in France," Quinn explained, pulling the cork out and setting the bottle to the side to breathe. "Can I get anything while we're waiting for the main event?"
"No need to wait," Hannah said, levitating in the newly charm expanded meatloaf and a platter heaped with baked potatoes. They came to rest next to the large bowl of salad that Ben had brought out to the table. "Dinner is served."
Andy slid straight into the chair between John and Ben. "Fantastic!"
Lifting the wine bottle with his wand, Quinn expertly set it pouring into the glasses around the enlarged table before it ended with him in his place at the head of the table. Raising his glass he looked around at the group. "Anyone have a good toast, or should I wing it?"
Thad stood, raising his glass. "To the happy couple. May they enjoy a lifetime of domestic bliss in whatever form they choose."
"Or whichever positions," Victoria added, making Hannah blush.
"Hear, hear!" Ben said, clinking his glass to John's, who was turning nearly as red in the face as Hannah.
Quinn bit back a laugh at the matching looks on Hannah and John's faces leaning over to clink his glass with Thad's, raising his eyebrows as he took a drink from his glass before reaching for the meatloaf plate. Cutting a thick slice for himself, he passed the platter on to Hannah and reached for the salad bowl.
Hannah served herself a much smaller slice and then passed the platter on to the next person, watching it make its way around her family--and Andy, who was practically family now, too. Even if it was smaller than usual, she still had some of her family behind her. At least she wouldn't lose everything. Under the table, she found Quinn's hand and squeezed it.
Squeezing it back, Quinn turned to grin at her. He wanted to make her happy and to not regret her choice. And he would. He'd find Frank, talk to him and... somehow he'd find away to fix this and make it right for her.