It was a big house, but Warrick had been expecting that. The place was warm and inviting, which was also not unexpected. What threw him were the photos of him mixed in with the other family members.
Family members. Was he a family member or just a stranger with an uncanny resemblance to the father of the house?
"Look, Warrick, I know you're new to all of this," Felicity, known in the family for reasons Warrick had not yet been made privy to as Felix, interrupted, "but I'm the official introspective one." She tugged Warrick away from the family gallery. It was quite a feat as Warrick had most of a foot and all of ninety pounds on her. Though he felt that anyone making the mistake of calling her "a little china doll" would be beaten like a white heavyweight boxer.
"I was just wondering where all of the photos of me came from?" Warrick explained.
"Mom begged them off your grandmother when Grams was asking Mom about Dad's favorite meals," Felicity explained. She cringed as her younger brother's voice cut into the peace.
"You're cheating, I know you're cheating," Gordon, a.k.a. Flash, insisted to Gil. "No one is that good."
Gil tapped another golf ball into the putting green hole. "It's simple physics," he replied.
"Aaaahhhh!!!" the kid shrieked as he threw down his club.
"Maybe we should call it a day," Gil suggested to the red-faced teen.
"Not while we have light," Gordon menaced. He grabbed up his putter, ready to do battle.
"I don't know that child," Felicity assured Warrick. "Some bird dropped him on the lawn and Mom insisted on keeping him."
"He's worried about Michael," Warrick guessed.
"Are my balls cursed?" Gordon demanded of the heavens as his ball shot past the hole and nearly went into the koi pond some distance away. He suddenly dropped his club and rushed through the house to the front. That's when Warrick heard the garage door go up. Gordon must have seen the car pull into the drive.
Michael walked in, mostly on his own power, and tried to reassure everyone that he was fine. He didn't look fine to Warrick. Despite the older man's good numbers being up and his bad numbers being down, he still looked like he was dying.
"Warrick, Gil, when did you make it in?" Jackie asked as she hugged them both in turn.
"About an hour ago," Gil answered as he reached back and closed the patio doors. "Gordon and Felicity have been keeping us entertained."
"I was a jackass and should have been taken out onto the road and shot," Gordon confessed. He threw himself down on the couch beside his father.
"His tests swear he's normal," Jackie explained. "His teenaged angst period will probably end sometime in his late thirties." She leaned over and kissed her son's cheek, which seemed to cause him physical pain. "Or until I kill him myself."
"There's a line forming," Gordon warned her. "Gil is already in it and he's got his weapon ready."
"This would leave too much evidence," Gil assured the teen as he returned both of their golf clubs to the bag. "I'm an expert and I would get away with it."
Gordon laughed. "You're going to throw me into one of Mom's vats and let her bug buddies finish me off, aren't you?"
Gil gave the teen a very insincere smile. "The thought never crossed my mind... more than once."
Felicity snickered. "What did the doctor say, Daddy?"
"My numbers are still climbing, but I need to put on some weight," Michael reported. That's the way they spoke now, "the numbers". The pancreas was one of those unappreciated organs, until it went wrong. Michael's insulin levels had been all over the place and his stomach lining had been inflamed. With his stomach lining finally close to normal, he should have been putting on some weight, but he wasn't.
"I have just the thing, Michael," Warrick informed him. "Grams sent you a feast and I want you to know we were nearly jacked for it several times."
"It's true," Gil added. "Even though it was frozen, it was like the other people on the plane knew."
"Felicity took charge of the warm-up since I'm culinarily-challenged and Gil likes to put bugs in his food," Warrick explained.
"Just my eggs," Gil said defensively.
"Let's see what you've got going." Jackie tugged Warrick into the kitchen.
"Don't let him touch anything," Felicity warned.
Once they were safely in the kitchen, Jackie's smile vanished. Warrick felt a fist close around his heart and he had not been expecting that reaction. Despite the fact he was spending his precious vacation time in their home, Brown had convinced himself he was just doing it to save the money instead spending it on a hotel. Now the thought that Michael was about to die hurt.
"His numbers are still good, Rick," Jackie assured him, "but he's got to put on some weight and his spirits... I'm getting scared."
Warrick would have bet three nights without Gil that Jackie could never tell her children she was scared. "This food and a special guest will really cheer him up."
Jackie looked ready to bust. "He's coming?"
"In about fifteen minutes, and if I know Barbara, that means in about five." Warrick grinned. "The only time that woman was late, we got Charles." He gave the older woman a reassuring hug. "Go and fix your face, grab Michael's cheetah slippers, and try to be cool."
Jackie nodded and left. She was almost instantly replaced by her daughter. Felicity must have feared Warrick getting too near the food that was warming up in the ovens.
"Anything I should know?" Felicity asked. She was very mature for a nineteen-year-old, which must have been a big help to her parents. Sixteen-year-old Gordon and she were the only children of five still living at home.
"I told her Chili was coming," Warrick answered. Everything else had been between Rick and Jackie.
The doorbell rang.
"I got it!" Gordon called.
Warrick headed toward the front door to keep Gordon from running Barbara and Chili off. "Hey, guys," he called when he spotted them.
"Who's that?" Michael asked as he tried to look around Warrick. Good luck on that. Rick had nearly two hundred pounds of blockage to use.
"Come on in," Gordon insisted. He grinned at Chili, who was half his age but close to his height. "Yea, no longer the baby." He shook Chili's hand vigorously. He looked Barbara over. "Freeyoooww, Rick was a total fool to let you get away."
"Hey, that's my mom," Chili warned.
"I'm hormonal, primitive, and lack a complete understanding of social boundaries," Gordon explained to the younger boy.
"Oh, he's your brother alright, Rick," Barbara remarked as she stepped into the foyer.
"Boss house, Daddy," Chili said after he moved past Gordon.
"It's not mine, we're all guests here," Warrick quickly explained to his son. "Chili, I'd like you to meet Gordon Summers, he's my younger brother."
"What up?" Chili greeted, sounding as tough as he could sound.
Warrick led them to Michael. "Barbara Smith and Chili Brown, this is Michael Summers, my father."
"Green eyes," Chili stated as he shook Michael's hand far too hard. "Now, I know." He looked up at Warrick. "Michael Brown is way better than being named after a fat-headed cartoon character."
"For the millionth time, you were named after my father," Barbara said before swatting the back of her child's head. "It's nice to meet you, Michael."
"I'm just saying that a little sounding it out and thinking it through after the drugs had worn off would have saved me a lot of grief," Chili insisted.
"That's your son," Barbara complained.
"Hello," Jackie greeted as she emerged picture-perfect from the master suite. She placed Michael's cheetah slippers beside their owner.
"Chili, this is your step-grandmother, Jackie," Warrick introduced.
Jackie's smile dropped like the Dow Jones. She shivered. "I don't like that title at all."
"You look too young to be a grandmother," Chili soothed, showing the old Brown charm.
"I love the grandmother part," Jackie assured Chili. "It's the 'step' part I didn't like."
"I only have one great-grandmother and no other grandmothers at all," Chili announced, "so the job is open. I need lots of spoiling, devoted attention, and you have to come to my games."
"Alright," Jackie agreed as if Harry Winston had stepped aside from the door to his jewelry store and said "take all you can carry". "What do you play?" she asked.
"Everything," Warrick and Barbara answered together.
"Come sit with me on the couch, Chili," Michael requested. "Tell me about yourself."
The man could not have known how much detail Chili could dredge up about himself, especially once he was assured of a captive audience. The rest of the family got to eat at the dining room table, while Michael and Chili ate sitting on the couch.
When Jackie took away their dirty dishes, she suggested a nap.
"I'm eight and a half; I'm too old for naps," Chili complained.
"She was talking to me," Michael explained, "but I don't want to miss a second of your visit."
"We'll come back," Chili promised. "We only live ten minutes away. We drive by your entrance on the way home every day."
"We don't want to be a nuisance, Charles," Barbara said with a clear warning.
"Nuisance?" Jackie asked, sounding shocked. "How could our grandchild be a nuisance? You two just sit and I'll bring you some pie. Do you like chocolate pie, Chili?"
"Does a duck like water?" Chili asked as if Jackie had inquired if he were old enough to walk.
"That's your son," Barbara repeated should anyone not guess that the sarcastic child was Warrick's son.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
Warrick found himself staring up at the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, but no substitute for sleep. He turned over and put his arm over Gil's sleeping form.
Today the father he'd known nothing about had met the son he didn't spend nearly enough time with. It had gone well, if a little long. Michael had sobbed after Barbara had taken Chili home. The older man hadn't been in pain, at least not the physical kind.
While the rest of the family had coddled him, Warrick wasn't having it.
"Michael, that's enough," Warrick said firmly. The Summers gang gasped as if he'd struck the older man. "This is no time for tears. You ate a full plate for both lunch and dinner, which tells me you can do it any other time. You've got the fanciest pool I've seen in a private home, and I've worked scenes in homes so fancy the toilet water was heated, so I expect you to get some exercise in there. You've got to pretend to understand Gordon's music when his band slaughters some poor songwriter's work."
"As if," Gordon interrupted. "I slaughter my own stuff."
"Felicity is going to win some scientific prize for work you don't understand and you'll need to smile proudly while praying no one asks you to explain it," Warrick continued. "Sooner or later, Megan is going to bewitch that man of hers and you have to marry her off in high style. Your sons need your advice. Your wife needs you, period. I need to get to know you. Your grandson is smitten with you, so you can't let him down.
"You've been given a second chance when most people don't get the first, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't piss it away," Brown said firmly. He helped Michael to his feet. "So let's wash that face and square our shoulders."
Warrick helped Michael get ready for bed, giving Jackie a break. The male nurse only worked until six in the evening, then the family was on its own. They were lucky, Gordon might not have been as tall as Warrick, but he was strongly built, which meant Michael didn't have to lean so hard on his slightly built daughter and overworked wife.
Gil suddenly turned over and pulled Warrick tightly into his arms. "You did the right thing, Rick. You can be as strong for him as you need to be, I've got your back."
Warrick cuddled his man. "Gil Grissom, pillar of strength?"
"That's me," Gil assured him. They kissed. "Now, get some sleep. You have to be authoritative while exuding compassion while I stand around obviously turned on by this side of you."
Warrick could never get enough of the playful side of his lover. "I'll do my best."
"I know," Gil whispered against his throat.
<><><>=============<><><>=============<><><>
"Seven pounds," Jackie reported enthusiastically to Warrick. "I felt like I'd won the lottery."
"That's great, Jackie," Warrick responded. "When I fly out for Thanksgiving, Nick Stokes will be coming with us. His brother lives in Atlanta and will be hosting the family this year."
"The way you talk about Nick, I feel like we've already met," Jackie responded.
Warrick switched the phone to the other ear. "I can't believe I talked Grams into getting on a plane and letting someone else cook the big meal."
"She's earned the rest," Jackie assured him. "Chili, what part of 'take that ball outside' didn't you hear? Barbara, why don't you lie down in the guest room and put your feet up, dear. Your ankles are swollen. Cedric, don't be shy, have another slice of cake and see if you can work that ridiculously large television without Gordon's help. Warrick, it's a shame Gil can't come with you this time."
Warrick was momentarily surprised that she'd remembered he was on the line. "Seniority doesn't affect the luck of the draw," he explained. "He has to work but promised to call on the day to make sure we haven't killed each other."
"Don't be silly. This family will be oozing love," Jackie assured him. "Michael, when I told Chili he couldn't play with his soccer ball inside, that included you too. Take it outside." A sudden burst of noise interrupted them. "Good job, Cedric, now turn it down."
"Warrick, we need to go," Sara called apologetically.
"Jackie, we're going out on a call," Rick explained. "I'll e-mail you when I get home."
"Okay, I love you," Jackie responded.
Warrick felt a strange sensation in his stomach. Would it be disloyal to his mother to respond in kind? He looked through the glass of Gil's office where the older man was leaning back with a report. At that instant, Gil lowered the folder in his hand and smiled at Brown. It was like the man knew. "Love you too." He closed the phone.
"Is Chili driving Jackie up the wall yet?" Sara asked, as they headed toward the truck.
"She's loving every muddy footprint and inhaled meal," Warrick reported. "Cedric and Barbara get free babysitting when they want to spend some time alone and Michael has put on seven pounds."
"That's great, Warrick. I was really worried for him and for you," Sara confessed.
"We're both lucky to have someone strong to lean on in our lives." Warrick climbed in the passenger seat so he could text his son and ask him to curtail his hell-child ways. Of course, Michael was probably egging him on, which left Warrick having to play "bad cop".
The truck shot into the halted downtown traffic, lights and sirens screaming. Warrick thought about the two dead bodies waiting on them and put his cell phone away. If he texted his son, he would just tell his child he was loved. Mischief said "alive" and everyone needed a lot more of "alive" these days.
The End
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