Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
Disclaimer: I do not own MIOBI.
Summary: 16x8 Universe. Sasha had never actually celebrated Thanksgiving and his first experience was beyond memorable. What with crotchety old men, mischievous little sisters, and well meaning parents . . . all of whom believe he's in an inappropriate relationship with his most prized gymnast.
Guess Who's Coming To Dinner – Prompt Arrival
~ Thanksgiving, Early Afternoon
"Sasha, give it to me," Payson demanded, tugging on the handle of her luggage, hoping to subdue him by sheer strength of will seeing as it wouldn't even be close in a physical contest.
"It's fine," Sasha insisted. "You've got your handbag. I can get the rest." His tone was more than a little patronizing, which only served to infuriate her and make her more determined to relieve him of her luggage.
"I can carry it myself," she told him, giving another tug on the bag. "Sasha -"
"Payson," he returned, in his perfectly cool coaching tone. "I've got this."
She refused to cave. More so because he still thought he could just lower his voice like that and give her a measured stare, and she would simply do whatever it was he asked of her. She was no longer affected by that particular timbre of his voice, at least not in the way that she had been in her teens. As a young woman in her twenties it affected her in a very different way, sending a pleasant little shiver down her spine and causing an erratic rhythm to her heartbeat.
She shook off that feeling, and instead lunged across Sasha for his luggage. He held his own bags in a looser grip, not expecting that particular turn of events, and she swiped it easily from his grasp only to have Sasha's fast reflexes catch her by the waist and keep her from getting away with it.
"What do you think you're doing, Payson?" he asked with another measured stare, a hint of amusement quirking at his lips.
She stared back at him defiantly, her chin raised and her lips set in a firm line. It was not an expression of childish insolence, but of poise and tenacity. "Fair is fair," she said simply. "There's nothing wrong with a woman carrying your bag, is there, Sasha?" she asked him innocently.
A trap if ever he heard one. But one he was saved from having to fall in to by a convenient interjection.
"If you guys are nearly done out here, everyone's wondering what's taking so long?"
They turned together to see Becca leaning casually against the doorframe giving them dubious looks. "Grandpa Rob and Maxine are here already, so you guys might want to cool it a bit," she suggested with a grin.
Seeing her sister, Payson smiled brightly and forgot everything else. She dropped the bag she had just managed to commandeer at Sasha's feet and rushed to Becca, wrapping the sixteen-year-old in an enthusiastic hug.
"Can't . . . breath . . ." the younger girl complained in a strangled voice, jokingly fighting off her sister's exuberance. Payson squeezed her even tighter in retaliation before letting her go, just so happy to be with her family again.
Becca turned back to Sasha with an almost sinister glint in her eyes. "Howdy, bro," she said brightly as she made her way towards him.
"Bro?" he asked incredulously, lifting an arm over her shoulder as Becca hugged his side.
"Just trying it out," she shrugged innocently, giving him a cheeky wink before she left them.
Next out to greet them was Mark Keeler, who began by wrapping his daughter in a hug, and then greeting Sasha with a firm handshake and a steely gaze. Sasha got the impression that he was being measured up in that one stare, but couldn't work out the reasons why.
As Payson remembered their previous actions, they both moved towards the bags at the same time, but Mark held up a hand to stop them. "I'll get those," he insisted, waving the two off. "Why don't you go see Kim," he suggested.
They both protested but Mark insisted, proving himself to be the source of his daughter's notorious tenacity. Relenting, Payson pressed a kiss to her father's cheek and then took Sasha's hand and led him through the house to find Kim, only to be cut off before they could get much further than the entrance way.
"Payson, darling," Maxine greeted, dressed as inappropriately as always in a silky red, wrap around dress with a plunging neckline. Trilling with fake joy, she blew a kiss to each cheek in greeting and nearly choked Payson with her perfume. Then she pulled back, immediately turning all of her attention upon Sasha. "You must be Alexander," she said in a lower tone, her gaze trailing over his figure appreciatively.
He pretended not to notice and greeted her amicably. "Sasha," he corrected, offering his hand. "And you are?"
"None of that," Maxine said, waving away his hand. "We're practically family," she insisted, opening her arms for a hug.
Seeing the clear fear on his features, Payson stepped in beside him, wrapping her arms around his forearm in order to avert Maxine's greeting. "Sasha this is Maxine Harper," she introduced. "Maxine is a friend of Mom's dad," she added in a slightly lower tone. "This is Sasha Belov, my – "
"Oh we know who you are," Maxine cut in, smiling knowingly.
"You're older than I expected," she added, her eyes narrowing for a moment. "But who am I to judge," she continued, laughing loudly and falsely at her own joke. "As they say, age is just a number and you're only as old as you feel."
"Right," Sasha agreed awkwardly, frowning in confusion. "We were just looking for Kim . . ." he said, hinting at their egress.
"Oh of course," Maxine agreed. "I can entertain Sasha for you while you talk to your mother," she offered to Payson.
Sasha looked momentarily helpless under Maxine's predatory gaze and backed away, letting Payson fall between him and the woman like a protective barrier. While he wasn't inexperienced at dealing with women like Maxine Harper (a particular incident with a similarly attired Chloe Kmetko immediately came to the forefront of his mind) it was something he would rather avoid if at all possible. He sent Payson a pleading look that clearly said, 'whatever you do, do not leave me alone with this woman'.
Reading his silent plea, Payson moved in closer and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
"That's nice of you to offer," Payson told Maxine ever-so politely, the refusal implied. "Kitchen?" she asked with a false smile, gently ushering Sasha away from the woman. She made sure to send Maxine a jealous look as they left, knowing what Maxine would assume from it, but doing what she had to do for Sasha's well-being.
"Thanks," he whispered, bending his head towards her.
"Happy to be of service," Payson replied lightly, tilting her head back to look at him. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe from the big mean lady."
She giggled lightly, but Sasha continued to look completely serious. "I'll hold you to that," he promised.
"Mom, Payson and Sasha are here," Becca announced plainly.
"Good," Kim replied, clearly anxious about seeing them. She patted down her clothes and wiped her hands several times, and checked the placement of every item in the kitchen until Becca's laughter finally broke her from her routine.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Mom," she said kindly, smiling to reassure her mother. "They're actually kind of cute together," she added. "It isn't weird at all.
"I mean, it's Payson," she said, elaborating to some degree. "If it was anyone else, but Payson then yeah, the age gap and the coach thing might be a big deal, but . . . it's Payson. Who else could she possibly be with? She only makes sense with Sasha."
Kim smiled with relief. She opened her arms to Becca, kissing the top of her head when she was close enough to embrace. "You're right, sweetheart," she said warmly.
"And here I was thinking you'd have the hardest time adjusting," she added jokingly as she released Becca from the hug.
Becca let out a gasp of affront and shook her head. "You have to start giving me more credit, Mom," she said seriously. "I'm practically seventeen. That's really mature."
"We're still not letting you go to that party, Becca," Kim deadpanned in reply.
"But you let Payson go to a kegger when she was younger than I am," Becca protested with a whine, stamping a foot petulantly.
Kim shook her head. "Not going to change my mind," she said plainly. "Why don't you try your dad again?"
Becca huffed and left the room just as Sasha and Payson came in through another door, talking quietly and smiling at each other. Kim couldn't help but smile. Payson had her arms wrapped around one of Sasha's and was looking up at him with a happy expression, while Sasha was bent slightly towards Payson, giving her his whole attention.
Becca was right – they were kind of adorable.
Kim wasn't sure what it was she expected to be seeing the first time she saw them together, but she felt slightly thrown by the reality. They were just so comfortable and happy, existing in their own perfect bubble. It didn't look like a borderline inappropriate secret affair. In fact, it looked sort of . . . right.
"Mom!" Payson greeted excitedly, breaking through her thoughts. She released Sasha from her grasp without reluctance, and immediately threw her arms around her mother in a warm hug. "Happy Thanksgiving."
"Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart," Kim returned, squeezing her lightly and kissing the top of her head. "I'm so happy for you, sweetheart," she said with a watery smile, her heart aching with sincerity. Payson frowned a little, but merely released her so she had the chance to greet Sasha.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Kim," he said, ducking his head to buss a kiss to her cheek. Kim pulled him into a hug and took the opportunity to jokingly admonish him for staying out of contact for so long. Sasha apologized, of course, because that was what you did when a mother admonished you, even if it wasn't your mother.
"So what have you been up to this last year?" Kim asked him eagerly, hoping to tease out the events that brought them together. "It's been so long. It's . . . it's almost a year to the day," she realized with a laugh.
"Not much," Sasha admitted, unable to say more as Payson pulled him over towards the breakfast nook and gestured for him to sit down. She was just as pushy with Kim, urging her mother to take a break for a few moments of catch up while she got them both something to drink.
They both watched as she hustled around the kitchen, and then disappeared as she remembered some item of use in her luggage. "You've learnt quickly," Kim noted, smirking with amusement.
Sasha replied with a low chuckle. "That one I learnt pretty early on. Sometimes it's easier just to do what she says and stay out of her way."
"Here, here," Kim agreed, lifting an invisible glass in mock toast. She was glad, if for nothing else, that Payson had found someone that understood her and knew her so well. She nodded her head towards him, indicating that she wanted some elaboration on his 'not much'.
"I've actually been in retirement for most of the time," he said, looking a little embarrassed by his idleness. He knew it was something his own mother would not have been impressed with, and the slight narrowing of Kim's eyes confirmed that she felt the same way.
"I did a lot of fishing," he said sheepishly. "Spent some time in Romania. Pretty much what I was doing before Steve Tanner found me last time. I even did a bit of work on my house in Cambria," he offered, trying to show Kim that those seven or eight months hadn't been entirely unproductive.
"But you decided to give up retirement for college gymnastics?" Kim asked, still slightly confused about what had led Sasha to the Gym Dawgs aside from the obvious. Coaching the Huskies meant being close to Payson, and yet it wasn't as though Sasha needed to work in order to make that move. He could fish just as much in Seattle, if that was what he wanted to occupy himself with.
"Not . . . specifically," Sasha said, unsure of how to explain this part. "I had quite a few offers from different organizations, including the Romanian and Chinese gymnastics programmes. I only went to meet Stu Underwood in Seattle to humour them, but then Payson was there at this function.
"She convinced me to stay," he finished with a helpless shrug and a fond expression.
(Technically Payson hadn't done anything more than greet him with a smile he'd missed desperately without even realizing that was what the little ache in his heart was longing for, but it had left him without any choice in the matter. If he had turned down the job he'd have been in a much sorrier state than he had been prior to seeing her again.)
Kim nodded, taking what she could from Sasha's explanation and having the last of her reservations fall away. "So it's only been a few months," she said, as the realization dawned on her. "Since September."
Sasha nodded his confirmation.
"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," she said honestly. "Mark and I just assumed because of the job . . . never mind," she trailed off, waving away those concerns. "We should have known better than that. You took the job because of her – not for her."
Sasha just frowned at her as she babbled on about months and secrets and other odd things. "Are you alright, Kim?" he asked concernedly. "You're not making much sense."
"I suppose I'm not," Kim said grimacing slightly. "Don't worry about it, Sasha," she said, smiling more genuinely to assure him. She placed her hand on top of his fist, and squeezed gently. "I'm just sorry I ever doubted you."
This only made him more confused, but he decided to simply let things go rather than question her further. It was obviously the right decision to make, as Payson returned from her endeavours a moment later with a bottle of sparkling cider in hand.
"When on earth did you get that, luv?" he asked, laughing at her bright and victorious expression.
"While you were getting questioned by security," Payson replied with a teasing smile, putting the bottle in the fridge to cool so it could be ready in time for dinner. "Oh, Mom, the most ridiculous thing happened to us at the airport," she began as she turned back to them, finally getting started on the drinks she'd offered earlier.
Mark came in as Payson recounted their encounter and how the airport security seemed to think that Sasha was a Soviet spy or head of some Romanian drug cartel trying to infiltrate the government. He'd been eavesdropping, she knew, but she would forgive him that. It was something that they had both needed to hear.
They could rest easier now, knowing that it wasn't the sordid affair that they had feared.
There had been no secret relationship spanning who knows how long. Payson had never kept anything from them, although she never outright told them about the relationship. But why would she? It wasn't in Payson's nature. And to sit them down and tell them that she was seeing Sasha would be like admitting they were doing something wrong.
'Which they aren't,' Kim assured herself
Sure, the age gap was probably larger than either she or Mark would have liked, but it wasn't so bad. It certainly wasn't anything compared to the gap between her father and Maxine, who was twenty years her father's junior. Payson had little patience for boys her own age so it only made sense that she would find someone at her same level of maturity.
The coaching thing wasn't even an issue at this point. It had been more than a year since Sasha was her coach, and nothing had happened until that part of their lives was well and truly over. Sasha hadn't taken advantage of his position – not that Payson would ever let herself be taken advantage of – and they had begun the relationship as equals, not student and mentor.
Only one concern remained for Kim, and even that was trifling and easily reasoned away. Things were progressing much faster than Kim had initially thought – they'd only been seeing one another for three months and already they were practically living together. Already it was at that point where Payson was bringing her boyfriend home to meet the family, albeit a boyfriend that they already knew and who they were entertaining in a partly non-boyfriend capacity.
It was still faster than Kim would have liked given that her daughter was only twenty and too young to be at that point where she started settling down and making plans for the future. She wasn't even finished college, but already she'd found the man she would likely spend the rest of her life with.
It seemed like just yesterday they were picking out her first leotard together and watching her wave them off at the school gate. And now here she was, twenty years old, having achieved her dreams of Olympic gold and finding her place with someone with whom she would cultivate new dreams.
Her little girl suddenly all grown up, right before her very eyes.
~ to be continued ~
It's still Thanksgiving somewhere, so I just made. Next update will not be so prompt - I've only just managed to stay one chapter ahead, which is where I generally prefer to be in most cases. But hopefully I get some writing in the next few days.
Let me know what you think.