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Like It Comes Naturally


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November 28, 2013 

 

Earth holidays were something Steve Murdock had gradually learned to celebrate during his years living in Freedom City, none having been part of his own upbringing. Some made sense, at least on an abstract level - the religious holidays to celebrate the birth, death, and rebirth of the primary god of the local population, the national holidays to celebrate the birth of the local nation-state, and those that commemorated the beginning and end of the year. His favorite of them all was the day of thanksgiving, perhaps because it was the closest thing to a holiday he himself had had as a child, even if the historical underpinnings of the day were at best an abstraction to the native of the Terminus. He'd spent most of his Thanksgivings on Earth-Prime working in homeless shelters and soup kitchens, gladly giving hot meals and warm beds to those who had fallen between the cracks even of this shining, near-perfect society. This year, however, was different - instead of helping strangers at a difficult time, he was helping someone very close to him indeed. 

 

Facing Gina across the breakfast table on Thanksgiving morning, he said, "It is strange to have a holiday together. I like the feel of it." Steve normally worked right through the holidays on behalf of his coworkers with children and families, but had made an exception this year given that Peter Evans was finally well enough to leave his treatment at the Albright Institute and walk safely on the street without fear of disaster. It was an occasion Steve understood only too well. Speaking of the day itself seemed like the safest place for the conversation to go, knowing how tense she was about the holiday reunion with her brother and his family - for all that she'd invited them there in the first place. 

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Holidays were absolutely Gina's least favorite time of the year, hands down. Worse than tax time, worse than the dog days of summer, worse than the first day of school. Why hadn't she remembered that sooner, like a week ago? Back in those halcyon days of long ago, when she'd been thinking about how last year Steve had been gone and she might never have seen him again, it had seemed like a good idea to do something to celebrate being together, have a real Thanksgiving dinner together. Not that she would cook or anything, but that's what caterers were for. So at least there was some method to the madness of planning a Thanksgiving dinner, but Gina was sure that only some kind of supernatural possession could explain the rest of it. 

 

So maybe she felt bad that Peter was still stuck in Freedom City for psychic rehabilitation after all these months. Maybe she was feeling guilty that she didn't visit him more often at the private treatment center she'd arranged for him. It was hard, and she was busy! It wasn't as though she hadn't  arranged for frequent contact with his family, or like she hadn't had them all flown out by private jet to be with him today. You'd think that would be enough, but oh no. Maybe too much of Miss Americana's runaway philanthropy had leaked into her brain. That was the only real explanation for why she'd invited Peter's whole family to Thanksgiving dinner at her house. At her _house_. This was going to be nothing but an unmitigated disaster. 

 

She poked at her cereal and shoved the bowl aside, getting up to rummage in the pantry for Pop Tarts. "Do you think it's too late to cancel?" she asked aloud, her voice a little higher than usual. "There could be an emergency, a world-saving emergency." 

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"If there is a threat to the world, we will deal with it," said Steve seriously. "But I think it is unlikely that will happen." He gave Gina a reassuring look, or at least as much of one as his odd face and demeanor could manage. "We will show your family what you have built here, and that will be good. What we have is..." He was briefly at a loss for words to describe their relationship, his occasional attempts to do so having only led to arguments, before he finally went on, "is ours. Your family loves you. They will appreciate it for what it is." Having finished his own sparse breakfast, he rose to his feet and began loading the dishwasher that he had reluctantly begun using. "We are not normal," he conceded, "but we are not alone in this. Mara, Yolanda, and their families will be sharing a Thanksgiving meal together today, and they are not normal people either. It will be a...worthwhile occasion." 

 

Steve had visited Peter and his family on Gina's behalf when she was otherwise engaged, at least once he was absolutely sure Peter's mental safeguards were in place enough to make sure that he would never know the face of the monster that was taking his sister to bed.  As the machine kicked on, he walked into the sparsely-used dining room, mentally reviewing his carefully-memorized checklist for the day. "Now, for the football game this evening, your brother supports the Green Bay Packers. Should we order more cheese in homage to their symbol?" 

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"No, no, we've definitely got enough food." Gina pulled a pop tart from the wrapper and began eating it while standing in front of the cupboard and still staring into it. "We'f goh enough foo foh" she chewed and swallowed, "for a dozen people, and there's only going to be four adults and two kids. I think I overdid it with the catering, I know I did. But it needed to be a big enough order for them to come out on Thanksgiving. I'm probably a bad person making a caterer work on Thanksgiving, but it was that or burn down the house or eat turkey and cheese Hot Pockets for Thanksgiving dinner with my family." The idea of Hot Pockets seemed to spark something in her, causing her to drop the toaster pastries and stalk over to the freezer. 

 

"Don't worry about doing anything in there," she called to him in the dining room. "The caterer is bringing everything. I don't have six sets of matching dishes anyway. At least ones that aren't hand-painted commemorative World of Warcraft plates, and nobody's eating off those." Gina took a Hot Pocket from the freezer and expertly slid it into the crisping sleeve, then popped it in the microwave. "They're bringing the centerpiece and the tablecloth and wine and all that crap too. It'll look like I know what I'm doing, even though I have no idea." 

 

She stopped dead in her tracks. "And after this, my family will know where I live. It's only a matter of time before my mother shows up on the doorstep." She went back to her half-eaten bowl of cereal at the table, ignoring it as she put her face in her hands. "We're going to have to move. Thank god you don't have any stuff." 

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Steve walked over to Gina, his every step a heavy footfall, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Your brother will keep your confidence. You have kept his." While there had been no hiding the truth of Peters Evans' transformation, given just how many heroes and citizens alike had been affected by it, the powerful influence of Miss Americana had done all it could to keep the powerful psychic from being discovered by the media - though of course not from his own family. "We will go in our ignorance together. All I know of your Thanksgiving meals I have learned from the television. I have only eaten this holiday at shelters before." Gina didn't seem to find that terribly comforting, so instead he released her and said, "You should eat a meal," he told her, "and put this from your mind. We will have a fine time with your family, and show them our lives." 

 

A thought occurred to him and he asked, "Is your brother racist?" 

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Gina frowned, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and thought. "Well, not maliciously so," she finally allowed. "I mean, he's not some asshole who's going to scream racial epithets or start fights or anything. But we come from a real small town, and you're... well, you're not a guy he'd expect to see me with, for a lot of reasons. I mean, I'm his little sister, and you're a lot older than him..." She waved a hand, dismissing the significant age difference. "He might say something weird or insensitive, especially at first. My family is really good at saying awful things without thinking. But he's nice, nicer than any sibling of mine has any right to be, and his family is good people."

 

She twisted her fingers together and looked out the front windows, wondering if there was enough time to have Emerson wash them again before the caterers arrive. "They might be so shocked that I have a boyfriend at all that they'll be careful not to do anything that might scare you away." 

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"It would be difficult for them to do that," replied Steve with his usual frankness. "So we have nothing to fear." Being a tall, muscular man with a scarred face and imposing features, he had been picked up several times by the Freedom City police early in his time in Freedom City. It had been a surprise to learn, from a mortified Lady Liberty, that none of those officers had been aware he was an Omegadrone. "They will come and see us. We will speak and we will eat, and things will be fine." He sat next to her and added, "I have spoken to both Gabriel and Jack about what to say in these situations, and they have given me useful advice," he said reassuringly, wanting to make sure Gina knew that he'd gone to the two most socially-adept men he knew about how to deal with this situation. "Your family will not know there is anything strange about me but what they can see. And they already know that you are their sister. " 

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"Gabriel and Jack," Gina repeated softly, wearing a half-smile that somehow managed to still look vaguely appalled. "Well, I'm sure you'll put the advice to good use. And whatever you say or Peter says, none of it could be as bad as the insane mental break i'm likely to have, so any faux pas will probably be totally forgotten anyway. So that's good then." She wrung her hands, then went back into the kitchen and opened the microwave, dropping the Hot Pocket uneaten onto the counter. "Okay, time to breathe. I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed and do my hair just like normal people, so that when the caterer comes I'll be all ready to hide in the basement until they go away. I'll just give you the list to give to them, it's really easy, just like ten things. No big deal." With that she was off, down the hallway to the bedroom with the door slamming behind her like the drawbridge of a castle thudding closed. 

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Gina's timing proved fortuitous because no sooner had she emerged from the bedroom, dressed, coiffed, and bathed, than the caterers did indeed arrive! With list in hand, Steve took over as she disappeared downstairs, speaking in slow, careful tones as he took in the small catering crew that efficiently went about the business of producing a holiday dinner (complete with all the trimmings and equipment) from the back of their white panel truck outside. "Money is no object," he assured the catering crew, "you should all be well-compensated for this." The spread was impressive, even by Earth-Prime standards. Between the gigantic turkey, deep dishes of mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, thick layers of stuffing, apple and pecan pies, and various other goodies beyond Steve's limited ability to recognize, Steve had a feeling he and Gina would be eating from this meal for days - a thoroughly pleasant thought for a man who still had his own cache of food in the basement. 

 

When it was done, he paid them well, using the cash Gina had left behind, and as she preferred waited until they had actually boarded their van and left before he knocked on the door to downstairs. "It is all done. Come see it, and let me see you." 

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  • 2 weeks later...

"How about I stay down here, you eat all the food, and when they get here, we tell them they have the wrong house?" Gina suggested over the in-house intercom. Despite the suggestion, she opened the door after a minute and came upstairs, dressed in a taupe pantsuit that at least approached the neighborhood of flattering, her mousy blonde hair twisted back in a simple chignon at the nape of her neck. She looked exactly like the assistant to a powerful CEO ought to look, efficient, inoffensive and unmemorable. It was a solid step up from most of her outfits.

 

She forced herself not to tug the pins from her hair as she looked at the dining room setup. "Wow, it looks really fancy in here," she noted with a mix of approval and dread. "Smells good, too. I guess they should be here just about anytime now." Her outfit had no pockets, so she clenched her hands together behind her back to hide the shaking. "Tell me I can do this."

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"You can do this," said Steve without hesitation. "You have bravely destroyed what you thought was your lover gone mad, you have journeyed into the depths of interstellar space, you have talked down a psychic gestalt of your own close family, and you have helped save the world time and time again. Your brother and his wife and children will be as childs play."

 

 "And you look lovely." Steve was nervous himself, acutely conscious of how easy it would be for him to make some glaring error in front of Gina's family, but he found that her worries (especially when she was so much more suited to this life than he was) were enough to help him regain his confidence. For all that he worried that she would one day realize the mistake she'd made in taking him to her bed and into her life....today was not going to be that day. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead, and slipped the bonds of dread for a few moments. 

 

And no sooner had the thought come than the doorbell rang! Or, rather, the robotic alarms that indicated a visitor on the front walk did, followed shortly by the sound of footsteps on the porch and then an actual chime from the door. With an arm on her shoulder (with space to let her slip underneath and escape), he walked to the door and opened it for their visitors. A little awkwardly, he declared loudly at the sight of them, "Hello! Welcome to our home. You should enjoy it!" 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Peter Evans looked was looking much improved these days, thanks to several months of treatment at some of the world's finest metahuman health centers. He still wore a power suppressing bracelet on his left wrist to avoid any psychic accidents, but some of the bright kids in the labs at ArcheTech had worked it into a silver wristwatch so it didn't seem so much like a manacle. He was dressed up nicely today, in a pumpkin-colored sweater and dark brown slacks that still had the store creases on them, and he was smiling more brightly than he had since coming to Freedom City. That change in attitude might have been prompted by the holiday, or perhaps by the presence of his wife Angie, and their children, three year old Petey and six-month old Renee. Despite the fact that Angie didn't look more than twenty, and Gina's mother's dire muttering about a shotgun wedding, and the fact that Petey's birthday was quite a bit less than nine months after the nupitals, Gina thought they looked happy together. Almost improbably happy, really. How could someone who'd grown up in the same house as her have ended up so... happy? 

 

Determined not to let things get awkward right off the bat, Gina swallowed hard and stepped forward. "We're so glad you could make it," she said in a voice that held only a hint of strain. "Come on in and get comfortable." She backed away from the door and took the coats as her guests shed them, trying to remember the small courtesies that made coming into someone else's house easy and not a strange imposition for everyone. She couldn't really remember. "Um, the food is just about ready, well, it's totally ready, but we don't have to eat it right away unless we want to. Can I get anybody a drink?" 

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"Gina! So nice to finally meet you!" Angie instantly revealed herself as a hugger as she wrapped her arms around Peter's mysterious sibling and gave her a tight squeeze, gently setting down the basket carrying the wide-eyed and bushy-tailed Renee. "You know Renee, and Petey Jr. Say hello, Petey!" She smelled like hotel soap and perfume, her sweater and jeans just a little behind the Freedom City fashions. A little shyer, perhaps a little scared still by everything that had happened, Petey Jr. waved nervously from where he stood next to his dad, his eyes torn between Gina and the looming figure behind her. For his part, perhaps because he knew his sister a little better, Peter was more careful, awkwardly reaching for a shake, then a quick hug. 

 

"Glad to finally see the place, Gina." He smiled, looking around a little shakily, before settling on the big figure behind Gina who had welcomed them so eagerly. "You must be Big Steve!" He extended a shaky hand, one that Steve met with the firmness that meant he was fighting nerves of his own. "Nice to see you again. I was pretty blazed on those drugs last time I saw you." 

 

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Peter, and you, Angela," Steve said to the adults, giving a friendly, albeit stiff smile to the child and the baby. "Come into our home." They walked into the living room, Steve reaching down to squeeze Gina's hand for his reassurance as well as hers. This was a key moment in their relationship, and in her life, and he was acutely aware of her tension. "All the good things you see here are Gina," he said seriously when Angie complimented the decor. "When we met, I owned very little." 

 

"I gotta go potty!" Peter Jr. suddenly declared, wide-eyed. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Gina submitted to the hugs as best she could, pulling back as quickly as possible to not-quite-hide behind Steve's bulk as she gave the guests a smile that didn't really reach her overly wide eyes. "We're so glad you could come," she said again, and relaxed just a touch when Steve squeezed her hand. "You're our first visitors." She was actually grateful when Peter Jr. began his potty dance, since at least that was a problem to focus on. "Okay, yeah, we can fix that. Emerson, show him the guest bathroom." 

 

Emerson, who'd been unobtrusively charging in the corner under the breakfast bar, rolled forward with an obliging beep-boop, the light of its optical diode a relaxed green color. It rolled up to Peter Jr., sized up one of the few humans in its lexicon who was its own height, then extended an arm full of slim waldoes to beckon the boy down the hallway toward the restroom. "Um, help him if he needs a boost to the seat," she called after them. 

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"Oh wow, a robot! Totally! Awesome!" For a moment, Steve wondered if the boy's wide-eyed excitement would cause him to wet the floor right there, but luckily Peter Jr. had the wherewithal to run after Emerson rather than stand there excitedly staring at it. As little feet and whirring treads receded down the hall, Steve offered, "Your son is very handsome. He resembles his father very much." Steve had carefully memorized those phrases from his FLSCH-issued guidebooks, but Peter and Angie seemed much more interested in Gina's house.

 

"This sure is a wonderful city," said Peter slowly, looking pleased at the sight of his sister's prosperity. "I saw pictures of robot superheroes at Albright, but a robot butler, shoot! That's great, Gina. You've done real good, girl."

 

They made their way into the dining room while they waited for Peter Jr. to catch up, Gina's check of Emerson's internal camera revealing that the boy was sitting on the potty while eagerly chatting with the robot about space aliens. "You two must have some big shindigs here, with all this space and just the two of you!" Angie was saying. "That turkey sure smells good!" 

"We are private people," Steve explained with a glance at Gina. "I spend many hours at my work, and Miss Americana keeps Gina very busy. But the company for the holiday is very nice." 

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