"If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance."

-George Bernard Shaw

Kiernan Flannery marched down the hallway of the federal building to the elevators banks that would take him to his grandson's office. Kiernan may have been eighty-five years old, but he didn't need a cane or walker. He was as fit as he'd been as a much younger man, and had the energy of a child. Just his energy made him seem twenty-years younger, and that energy was going to help him kick his grandson's butt into next week.

Kiernan had just spoken to his son, Dylan, Mathew's father, and learned something he didn't like, not at all. He'd helped raise Matt and his brother, Christopher, when they were younger, especially after their mom died. Dylan had been so broken up he couldn't handle it himself, so the boys often spent time with their grandparents. Kiernan had been strict and knew how to discipline them, but he knew how to love them and spoil them too, like any good grandfather.

"Mathew Gabriel Flannery!" He bellowed stepping into the CNU, earning the attention of every staff member there.

Now was one of those discipline times.

Matt cringed and flew up from his seat, though he didn't need to see the man to know who it was. Almost seven years he'd gone without anyone in the office, except Emily, finding out his middle name, which he hated with a passion. Emily had told him it was pretty.

What guy in his right mind wants a 'pretty' name?

She'd popped up beside him, eyes wide, wondering what was going on, just like everyone else in the office. Even Cheryl came out of her office to find out what the noise was.

"Granddad, what are you doing here?" The man looked pissed, and Matt knew instantly that this was going to be very embarrassing.

"What am I doing here? Is that anyway to greet me, boy?" Embarrassing suddenly seemed too kind for the dressing-down Matt knew was coming.

"Sorry, how about we go talk somewhere private?" He tried to coax the old man away from his colleagues, even though he knew it was useless. Kiernan Flannery would much prefer to verbally assualt his grandson where it would be most embarrassing.

"No, here's just fine, Mathew." Matt swallowed, ignoring the stares of his colleagues, and prepared for his next line.

"It's good to see you grandad, what brings you by?" Polite, respectful, just as he'd been taught as a boy.

"I was just talking to your father. He told me he met your girlfriend this weekend, told me she's a nice young lady, your partner. I expect that would be you?" He'd moved to beside Matt's cubicle, and his voice was at a normal speaking volume now. It was like the wind blowing softly and rustling leaves minutes before a bad storm hit.

"Uh, yes sir," Emily answered, startled.

"It's a pleasure, dear. Pay no mind while I straighten him out, alright?" He smiled and kissed her hand, and Emily just nodded, unsure what to do under the circumstances.

"And you," he turned his attention back to Matt. "You know what else your father told me?"

Matt didn't answer, years of experience as a boy taught him that he wasn't supposed to. Not that kind of question.

"He told me you've gone and shacked up with this young lady?" Kiernan was very angry, but most of the CNU missed his tone, they were so stunned by that statement.

Matt cringed and shot an apologetic look at Emily; they hadn't wanted to tell anyone that yet. He jumped back after Kiernan's open hand made contact with the side of his head, generating a loud thwack. It wasn't that hard, but hard enough.

"Ow, jesus granddad!" Matt yelped grabbing his head. He hadn't earned a smack upside the head since he was a kid.

"Stop whining. We taught you better than that, Mathew. Your mother and grandmother taught you better than that. They taught you more respect for women than that." He glowered at Matt, who was still rubbing his head. Emily was a little horrifed that Kiernan had actually hit Matt, and the rest of their coworkers seemed to be struggling between being amused and appalled at the action.

"That is not how you treat a lady, Mathew. You do not shack up with a respectable woman. You do that with a whore. Do you want to date a whore, Matty?" Kiernan demanded, earning more shocked looks from the CNU staff, whose eyes all darted from Matt to Emily.

Emily just stood there with her mouth open, unable to comprehend that Matt's grandfather--who she'd never met before this moment--had just called her a whore.

Matt nearly swallowed his tongue as he shot another apologetic look at her. God, if his grandfather kept this up, Matt would be spending his next dozen paychecks on flowers, perfume, jewlery, whatever would make this up to Emily. Matt stiffened his back, and swallowed. His grandfather did not like being talked back to, but he was going to have to do just that.

"That was uncalled for."

Kiernan was quiet watching his grandson, then he nodded.

"You're right. Your father likes her, she can't be anything of the sort." He seemed calm now, less like an angry summer storm. Matt released a breath too soon.

"But Matty, you need to do right by her. If you love this young lady you'll put a ring on her finger." Kiernan's eyes burned into his grandson's. He may have grown up in another time, but in his mind, the proper way to treat a lady hadn't changed. There should be none of this living together crap. You want to share a bed with someone, then you better committ to them.

"This really isn't the time or place to discuss that," Matt pled with him, not even risking looking at Emily or his coworkers. If he had, he'd see them all wearing the same stunned expression, and poor Emily looked like she'd just seen a UFO.

"Exactly when and where would you like to discuss this then, Matty?" He demanded.

"Tonight, at dinner. After we finish here, we'll meet you for dinner. You can uh, get to know Emily." If she didn't dump his ass.

"Alright then, but I'm bringing your grandmother, Matty. So, you best put a ring on her finger before then." He glowered at his grandson, before turning and walking out of the CNU as fast as he'd come.

All attention quickly turned back to Matt and Emily. Matt looked like he was in pain, and Emily was still watching that UFO.

"Why don't you two take a break?" Cheryl suggested. Matt nodded, and gestured to Emily, who simply followed him.

Once in the privacy of Interrogation 2, Matt fell on his sword, so to speak.

"God Em, I'm so sorry. I didn't know my father would tell him we moved in together, he's usually very good about not mentioning that sort of thing." He watched his girlfriend (maybe ex) open and close her mouth twice, unable to find words. Then she managed it.

"It's okay." She spoke slowly, making sure she got the words she wanted.

"What?" That was the last thing Matt expected to hear.

"I'm not mad. I think I'm too deep in shock to be mad."

"Then you don't hate me right now?"

"No, I don't." She sighed and looked at him. It was obvious he didn't have control over the old man. "What do I need to know to get through tonight--besides that we shouldn't be living together?"

"Uh, well my grandparents are very Irish and very proud of it. Actually, all of my father's side pretty much have Guiness and whiskey running through their veins. His mother was born in Ireland. They are also very Catholic, so the church is very important to them. And, they are reluctant to accept anybody that isn't Irish Catholic." His mother wasn't Irish, but she was Catholic, so they were alright with her.

"Matt, I'm neither Irish, nor Catholic."

"You have red hair, there must be Irish in there somewhere."

"Uh, I think my mother's mother's mother, or something like that may have been Irish." God, she had to think the drag that up.

"So, what are the rest of them?"

"Oh god, I don't know. Welsh? German, maybe? Wait, is this actually going to be a problem?" She couldn't believe they were having this conversation. Exactly when did it become 1910?

"No, actually. You aren't really connected to you heritage, so they'll make you Irish." His grandparents wouldn't be thrilled, but they'd accept it.

"Okay, interesting...what about the Catholic part?" Emily didn't know if she really wanted to be "made Irish", but she figured she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Matt went silent, apparently pondering something, before speaking. "Do you have any moral objections to lying through your teeth?"

"You don't even go to church!"

"They don't know that though, they think I still go every Sunday and on Holy days," he stressed, trying to keep his voice lower than she was keeping hers. Emily inhaled and calmed herself back down, following his lead.

"Okay, anything else I need to lie about tonight?"

"Actually, yeah. Don't mention under any circumstances that you don't want children." If they found that out, they would absolutely forbid him to see her, no matter that he was 35, and not 16.

"Matt, you don't want kids!" Emily may not have been angry before, but she was definately there now.

"Yes, yes I know. But, again they don't know that Emily, and it's better that they don't."

"You are a grown man, they have no right to tell you how to live your life, and you shouldn't let them!" Being a pansy to the family matriarch or patriarch, that was a deal-braker for Emily.

"Em, I've tried. My cousins and I spent the better part of our late teens and twenties trying to tell them that. Trust me, it's better that you just lie to them." He loved her more than anything, but she was clearly unimpressed with him right then.

"Fine, I'll lie to them at dinner tonight. But, I don't like it." Her body was tense, she was still mad. Matt hadn't a clue how to fix it.

Hours later, Emily was turning her little black dress into appropriate, good catholic girl attire by adding a black cardigan, buttoned at the top. Where the sweater came from, she didn't know, but she was glad she had it. Black strappy sandals, some very discrete make-up, and a few peices of modest silver jewlery in her ears and around her neck completed the look. There was no cross, no pearls, those were for grandmothers and sweet young girls who waited until their wedding night to have sex. Not a woman who lived with her boyfriend, and whose typical accesories were a cellphone, pair of handcuffs, gun, and extra clip.

No, Emily was not the girl you brought home to meet mom and dad. She was more the dirty little secret no one knew about.

At least that's what guys had been teaching her, her whole adult life. She was a sexy, exotic little thing that gave them a rush. She was exciting, a thrill-ride that made them feel alive, but she wasn't the one they'd take to meet parents, she wasn't the one they wanted to marry. Except Matt.

Matt didn't treat her like a novelty, like some youthful indiscretion he'd reminisce on when he was fifty. It had been his idea to meet his father, and it was always him taking the next step first. Maybe it was because he had the same job, saw the same dangers. Matt really loved her, and wanted her in his life.

That only made Emily more nervous though. She sighed as she viewed herself in the mirror. Her hair was tamed, straightened, and pulled back--good girls also didn't have sexy, wild curls flying all over the place. Matt loved her curls, told her that more than once too.

Dresses were too impractical, she hardly ever wore them, except a few times on dates to tease Matt. Good foreplay should never be underestimated. Damn it, she looked and felt like a lie, and she hated it.

She wasn't the naughty little toy most men took her for, but she wasn't a good girl either. Wasn't there any room in the middle?

Emily wasn't ashamed that she was living with Matt out of wedlock, it hadn't even occured to her that it could be wrong until his grandfather's diatribe that afternoon. She loved him, and knew he felt the same way about her, but they just weren't ready for that marriage step. It took more than a year to fix thirty-plus of learning how not to trust people, and they at least, had been content to take their time.

"Hey, you look beautiful," Matt whispered, his lips beside her ear, arms suddenly around her waist.

"Thanks, you look nice too, scratch that, scrumptous." She smiled and kissed him.

Somehow, he always managed to look both delicious and incredibly uncomfortable in button down shirts. The shirt was a dark gray, almost silvery, and he'd paired it with dark blue jeans. A button-down shirt was asking enough, Matt didn't wear slacks to anything less than formal, and he'd politely requested she put a bullet in his skull if he ever bought a pair of khakis. Matt didn't do preppy.

He was very happy she wasn't mad at him anymore. Apparently, she'd decided it wasn't really his fault, so she couldn't blame him. She still didn't like it, but she'd suck it up and deal. He'd told her he loved her about a half a dozen times since his grandfather stormed the CNU. She was still saying it back. That helped dim his anxiety over their evening considerably. Until now.

He pulled a worn black velet box from his pocket, nervous fingers shaking so bad, he nearly dropped it. Emily's eyes widened, and she imediately started shaking her head violently back and forth.

"Matt, you better not be doing what I think you're doing," she demanded, tensing up again.

"Em, just hear me out a minute, please?" He was looking a little desperate, so Emily nodded him to continue.

"This isn't a marrige proposal, I know we aren't ready for that..." He paused to let that sink in for her, and put a hand up when she went to object, and undoubtly ask what the hell he called it then. "But one day, we will be ready, and I will ask you to spend the rest of your life with me. In the meantime, we have two grandparents to keep happy, so please wear this ring, at least tonight. We'll tell them it's an engagement ring, but really we'll just be engaged to be engaged."

At that moment, he opened the box to reveal a bright, deep blue opal set on a silver band, a tiny diamond set on either side. Delicate etching trailed down the sides of the band.

Emily released the lip she'd been nibbling, and grinned. "You know, for not being a proposal, that was pretty good."

"Thanks...does that mean you'll wear the ring?" He asked pulling it out of the box, and holding it out to her.

Emily opened her mouth to answer when a thought suddenly occured to her. "Matt, how long have you had that ring?"

"Since I was twelve. It was my mother's, from her grandmother's. My mother had no daughters, so she left it to me in her will." He shifted nervously, just as insecure about relationships as she was.

Emily realized then, what it meant for him to give her that ring. That more than his words, made her believe that he was serious about proposing to her one day. This wasn't just a ring he picked up in a department store, this had been his mother's ring. He kept that ring safe and to himself for over twenty years, now he was giving it to her.

"Matt...are you sure you want to give me that?" She asked him, voice now unsteady, eyes staring into his.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have asked you to wear it." His eyes burned right back into hers. He'd been debating for the last month if he should save it as an egagement ring, or give it to her outright. Tonight, he'd finally decided. When the time came, he'd pick out a ring that was just for her, but now he wanted her to have this one.

She held out her hand to him, and both could see it quiver ever so slightly. Matt held it with his left hand, and slipped the ring on with his right. Then he brought her hand up to his lips, and pressd a delicate kiss to it.

Matt moved his hands to her waist, and pulled her tight against his body, pressing his lips to hers. Emily responded by sliding her arms around his neck, and slipping her tongue between his slightly parted lips. It took a few minutes before they realized they would be late, and definately couldn't go to dinner with his grandparents reaking of sex.

They broke apart quickly, though with considerable disappointment.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Oceanside steakhouse, where Matt's grandfather informed him that he'd made reservations. It wasn't really an upscale place, just your average steakhouse. The kind that you didn't bother making reservations at, unless maybe you had a big party. Four wasn't a big party, but his grandfather always had his own way of doing things.

With his right hand resting gently on Emily's back, he guided them into the restaurant, stopping at the hostess's station. The restuarant was darker, lit enough to see, but dark in the way that people think is very classy. Most of the wooden tables were smaller, meant for couples, but there were bigger ones here and there. No booths, but there were stained-glass chandeliers that matched the decor, which relied heavily on reds, yellows, greens, and oranges. All in all, not a bad place to get dinner with the family.

"Uh Flannery," Matt told the smiling blonde hostess, when she asked.

"Of course, right this way." Smile still screwed on tight, she led the way toward the back of the restaurant. Matt caught sight of them as they came around the corner, and he imediately blanched.

"Oh god, he didn't." Matt stopped and yanked Emily back behind the corner.

"Matt, what the hell?" She demanded, suprised.

"Hang on a second." He turned to the now confused hostess. "We can manage from here, thank you."

She nodded and left, leaving him alone with a very confused Emily. She held up her hands to him, the blue opal gleaming in the light.

"It isn't just my grandparents out there Em, they invited the whole family apparently."

Emily opened her mouth to exclaim, then quickly closed it, looking a little green. It's done, arguing wasn't going to change it. That she had a sudden thought.

"Why does that freak you out?"

"Did I never mention I had a big family?" Matt was getting figety and nervous. God, he thought to himself, Emily might actually leave him tonight.

"How big is big?" Emily bit her lip, her heart was begining to pound faster, as her nerves increased. Matt poked his head back out to estimate the size of the gathering.

"Well, it looks like most of everyone is there, barring a few cousins, and my aunt and her brood in Florida, so forty give or take a few." He whinced when her eyes widened and mouth fell open.

"Please tell me you're joking." Emily's greenish color went a little pale.

I hope you all enjoyed this, and I hope it helped take the edge off of "Compliance" for those of you who read it. Thank you for reading, and please review!