A/N: Yay, the story that I've wanted to do forever is finally written! Okay, a couple of things: this story is really AU. First of all, Hera is not Zeus's sister. The other Olympians from their "generation" (Hestia, Hades, Demeter and Poseidon) are Zeus's siblings, although Hera still knows them well. Also, I'm going to stick with PJO's screwed up version of the myths, and say that the other Olympians (Ares, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Athena, Hermes, Artemis and Apollo, Dionysus) are both of their kids. Also, just in case you care, I just listed the age order for this story. Copious amounts of research wouldn't give me a consensus on the birth order, so this is the one I'm using, as it seemed closest to accurate. And of course, Aphrodite and Hephaestus aren't married. Thanks guys!
Hera stood by the kitchen sink, eyes making their way across the yard. It was empty, thank the gods. There were no stray dogs in it, and evidently all of the children had found their way onto the school bus. A remarkable morning, then.
"Do you need my help with anything?" It was Zeus, emerging from the shower. He wore a red towel around his neck, accenting the gray flecks in his beard.
"I wish you would shave," Hera replied, crinkling her nose.
He frowned slightly, ignoring the comment. "Do you need my help?" He had stayed home from work that day, specifically to help with preparations for Thanksgiving. They were having the whole family over the next day.
"Yes," Hera replied. "With the pies. We need to know how many we're baking." It was a jibe at Zeus, they both knew, and his inability to properly communicate with his relatives.
He cleared his throat. "I'll get dressed, and then I'll call them. I promise."
"Alright," Hera said, with a sigh. She counted off the guest list in her head; Demeter, Persephone, Poseidon, Hestia, and of course, the children. Hades, Kronos and Reia were the uncertainties. They hadn't spoken to Hades in several years, despite Zeus's odd enthusiasm to invite him, and Kronos and his son had recently had a riff.
It would be an uncomfortable dinner either way, she knew. Demeter's husband had recently abandoned her and Persephone, and everyone would be so consumed with consoling and advice giving that a fight would most likely break out. This wasn't unusual, of course.
"Good luck," Zeus said, releasing his wife from her internal scheduling.
"Thank you," Hera replied. Of course, she didn't need luck. Her cooking was acclaimed, as her family knew.
The turkey was almost finished, and the stuffing was baking to a golden brown. Demeter had sworn to bring the yams and string beans, so the only thing left to do was make the pies. And the cranberry sauce, she realized with a start. But they didn't have cranberries… she had foolishly forgotten to buy them. Quickly, she wiped her floury hands on her blue-checkered apron and scribbled a note on her magnetic pad. Zeus could drive and get them, she supposed. That's why he'd stayed home, after all – to help.
He came down the stairs then, grinning somewhat seductively. "You look beautiful, today."
Her heart squirmed from the flattery, for a moment, and then she remembered what he was supposed to be doing. "Have you called them?"
His face fell, his ingenious scheme foiled. "Not yet. It's pretty early, I'm sure they're not even awake yet."
Hera kept her eyes on him, refraining from adding her comments. Last she'd heard, Hades dealt in an underground sales system. It wouldn't have shocked her in the least if he'd done business at night and slept during the day. "Fine then," she said coolly, allowing him to stall. "Get them mail then, will you? And then I need cranberries."
"Right," Zeus replied, looking relieved. He gave her a peck on the lips before proceeding into the yard.
Hera continued to watch him through the window, never tired of taking in her husband's every move. He was so incredibly masculine that it threw her off her guard a bit – sometimes he seemed too invincible for the ordinary world. And yet, she'd been told that she was his match. Apparently she was the only one whom he would answer to, the only one who kept him on his toes. She was unsure as to the validity of this claim, but it made her smile nonetheless.
When he returned to the crescent-shaped kitchen, his expression had fallen down a few flights.
"What's the matter?" Hera asked, at once. The best solution for all strife, in their family at least, was to answer it with speed.
"This." He held out a starchy envelope. "From the agency."
"Open it," Hera replied, her icy tone treading softly on fiery grounds. She only ever lost her mask of perfection when it seemed that things were going to be upturned – as with this letter.
Zeus did so, scanning the paper quickly. He sighed. "It's the birth parents, like I thought. They want to meet her, Hera."
Hera closed her eyes a minute, wondering why the gods would do this to her on Thanksgiving. To her precious daughter…
"She's nearly eighteen," Zeus said, thoughtfully shrugging. "She should know before she goes to college."
"No," Hera replied shakily. "I don't know why she would ever need to feel different from her siblings." They were talking about Aphrodite, of course. They had adopted her, when only Ares had been born, and not a soul knew.
"Not different," Zeus said. "But she deserves to know her background, doesn't she? Besides, Hera, we agreed to this."
Hera glared mutinously at the envelope, urging it to swallow it's insidious print. This was unfair. "Not today, alright? The kids get off school tomorrow, for the rest of the week. We can wait until winter break, can't we?"
"Of course," Zeus replied. He kissed her again, putting his hands on her ingredient-soaked apron. Hera smiled, soaking up the affection. She felt so powerful when he doted on her, like this. She felt as if she could do anything.
The phone rang then, interrupting the blissful moment. Hera leaned over, checking the caller id.
"Your parents' house," she said. "Maybe they'll tell us if they're coming." She handed the phone over to Zeus.
"Hello?" he said, looking nervous. Conversations with his demanding father rarely turned out well.
"Hello…" a warbled voice replied.
"Who is this?" Zeus asked, eyebrows crunched with confusion. It was neither of his parents' voices. "Hestia?" His eldest sister had moved directly across the street from their parents, and she often stayed at their old home.
"Yes, it's me," Hestia squeaked. "Zeus, it's mom. She's dead."
A/N: Poor Olympians, they don't even get to have a happy Thanksgiving. Oh, that's their last name by the way. Olympian. Tacky? Yeah, I know. : ) Please review!