Thank-you Lena7142 for your review, I found it very inspiring :), as to your question, there is some logic behind the synonyms. I've gone over some of the episodes (well the previews and 30-45 second blips you can find) and I've found that although Rick is a new guy all around, that there are times when he is very precise, and I don't think that the series has really ever emphasized that aspect of him (I was going to go over this a little bit in a later chapter, but why not get it in the open now? (: ). Plus I think that if he has ever seen Casey work out, the importance of precision would have been stuck in his head. So long story short the synonyms is just Rick's way of being exact (or trying to be as he is listing a few synonyms at a time).

Prompts provided by daisymall13 (but I added a few)

Chapter Three ::No. 36:: Getting to Know You

The day had been a bit enlightening for Rick. Keira had introduced him to most of the family, a very large (expansive/massive/immense) one he had realized. She had stated that only a "few" couldn't make it (but she also said her family wasn't very big), so there was no telling just how big her family was. He had been beginning to wonder if Keira had a loose definition of family, before Michael explained that the Keegans really were a large family, however yes, there were people here that weren't actually related to Keira.

He was more than a bit surprised (he shouldn't have really) to find that the family had come from all sorts of countries (Spain, Ireland, Greece, Romania, Russia, those just off the top of his head). Billy had explained (in extremely vague terms) that it was because love knows no bounds (which left Rick a bit puzzled at first, but then he looked at the big picture (looking at the big picture sometimes gave you a break from the details) and he was lead to the conclusion that maybe Keira wasn't the only CIA operative in the family… which would explain why Higgins had wanted someone on the inside, but he was then surrounded by a bunch of squabbling ladies asking him to compare their potato salads and was forced to let the matter be for now).

Speaking of love, Rick was beginning to think Michael and Keira had something going on between them. They hadn't left each others company since they had arrived, as far as Rick could see. If one was in the room the other was as well. He took a deep breath, trying to stop mulling over the fact that he was technically the new guy, and that there were some things that happened before he joined the ODS. He was probably blowing things out of proportion. It was probably because she was talking with Fay and Michael still loved Fay. Fay had arrived a few hours ago.

They were in the living room, Keira finishing a story about a mission she had shared with Michael "back in the day" to a group of tough (gruff/stoney/large) looking men. Michael was beside her, adding a few details or elaborating and inserting comments about "his side of the story". Fay was sitting across from them listening with a smile on her face.

Keira caught sight of him in the middle of her narrative. "Oh, Tobey! Pull up a chair and crack open a beer."

Room was made for him next to the love seat (stop thinking there Rick) Michael and Keira were sharing.

"Are you sure this thing can drink? Is he old enough?" one of the men asked. His arms were thicker than Rick's thighs with a mustache that could compete. The eyebrows on his head looked more like toupees.

"Oh no, Young Rick is tougher than he looks. He ate a live scorpion on his first mission," Billy cut in, suddenly appearing behind him.

"No," the man contradicted. "This little thing?"

"Oh yeah I'll tell ya. Here we were, the four of us, captured…" Billy descended into an elaborate and highly exaggerated retelling of his first mission with the ODS. Rick tried to downplay his part of the mission, but Billy seemed too engrossed in his story telling and ignored Rick's attempts to sway the story back into a realistic perspective. Soon enough a cold beer was thrust into his hand and he was brought into the circle. He was amazed (astonished/surprised/astounded) to find that the men around the coffee table (there were four (of varying sizes)) were obviously ex-CIA themselves, or mercenaries that had retired. It didn't take long to figure out why Higgins had wanted someone inside.

Rick was pulled out of a particularly interesting tale about a sheik and Keira's great great uncle Norbert, by the tugging on his pants. He looked down to see a small girl of no more than six. Her gray green eyes looked at him hopefully (insistently) as a small hand pointed to across the entry way. "Do you need help?" he asked.

The young girl nodded her head, tugging on his pants once more. Rick followed her into the parlor (library more like). On every wall space was a shelf filled with books, and small bobbles. He could see where there were chairs and pillows were piled up, an attempt by the small girl to obviously reach a shelf that had small airplanes which was still out of her reach.

The girl pointed up at a model plane that must have been painted by another child, insistently (urgently/hopefully/pleadingly), crawling up on the chair and pile of pillows to show that she couldn't reach. He pulled it down for her noticing that she had knocked a few bobbles down in her attempt to reach the plane. The girl gave him a wide smile, showing off a missing tooth, before dashing away and up the stairs. Rick started putting the trinkets back in order, finding that on the shelf below a picture frame was face down. He set it right, noticing that it was a picture of a much younger Keira and a few other men.

She was standing in between a younger Michael and an older guy in his late twenties (early thirties?) who could only be a mechanic, if the grease stained overalls where anything to go by. His short hair was more orange than red, a stark contrast next to the brown and copper tones of Keira's. Behind Michael and Keira was an older gentleman (forty at the least) in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt that matched Keira's outfit today. He had a hand on each of their shoulders looking every bit a proud parent. They must have been on a sanctioned mission of some sort, because they were in the middle of an African field stranding on front of a jeep. Off to the side was a man in a suit, Rick tried to get a better view, but the face was scratched out and colored over with a black sharpie.

"That was Keira's old team, before Michael was promoted that is."

Rick looked over his shoulder. The man stood about six feet tall, black hair pulled back into an elegant (sophisticated/educated/well-to-do) horsetail at the nape of his neck. Icy blue eyes peered at him from behind thin steel colored frames.

"Oh, you knew them?" Rick asked gesturing to the photograph, something inside him ringing the warning bells inside his head.

"Yes. Oh do pardon me," the man continued in his smooth (suave/soft/flowing) English accent, sticking out a hand. "James Lark."

"Rick, but everyone seems to be under the impression that I'm Tobey," Rick said, shaking the hand firmly once and letting it go.

"Ahh no doubt that would be Keira's doing. She was always one for nicknames I'm afraid, even when she was first starting out. I knew her when she was first recruited, you see," James Lark said, walking up beside Rick to get a better look at the picture frame he was holding (clutching/grasping/clinging) on to. "Howards, I believe, was the one to encourage it. That would be the one behind Keira and Michael. To the right is Jake Dockins, a mechanical and demolitions expert from Australia."

Rick nodded his head the bells (alarms/voices/warnings) inside of him telling (yelling/shouting/screaming) at him to be careful. "Interesting," Rick said. "And this is?" He pointed to the man who was marked out.

James Lark had an odd (funny/off/not quite right) look on his face as he replied. "That was Henry Blake. He was their strategist. After Michael was promoted, they went on a mission in Siberia. Howards and Jake were killed and Henry went missing." James Lark gave him an odd look. "Her brother was said to have been sent there on a mission once. You remind me of him actually."

Rick looked up at him, a bit thrown by the topic change. No one had ever mentioned a brother. "Her brother was CIA?" he asked, a little proud that he was able to phrase two questions in one.

"Yes, Keira had an older brother. No one really knows what happened to him, but it was rumored that he was eaten by wolves if you understand my meaning. He was an excellent operative, tragic really, that he is no longer with us."

Rick couldn't help that his curiosity (interest/attention) was peaked at that bit of information. He wasn't really sure what to do with it, but it seemed useful enough. He could hear Keira's laughter drift over from the other room. He glanced over to where she might be wondering if she was laughing at something Michael had said.

James Lark patted him on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile, misinterpreting the look on his face. "Don't worry, Rick, she doesn't date within the office. She doesn't like dating at all, I'm afraid."

"Oh? Why's that?" Rick asked.

"Well, it's sad to say, but women in the field are usually asked to coerce information from some of the more difficult gentlemen. Pillow talk must be interesting when your bed mate is an international arms dealer," he clarified with a dark half hearted chuckle. "Keira's just been sent on one too many of those types of missions. Not that she would ever decline one, she's never been one to back down from anything." James Lark let out a sigh. "Well, that's all the time I have, I'm afraid. If you ever get the chance, play a game of chess with her. You can learn a lot about a person through a game of chess. You would do well to remember that. Good day, Rick."

The tall man left the room through the sliding doors that lead to the dinning room. Rick breathed a small sigh of relief when he was out of sight, placing the picture back in its place on the mantle. Casey was right when he said that the Keegan family was full of a bunch of interesting characters.

He walked back into the living room, unable to completely shake the uneasy (horrible/daunting/foreboding) feeling that had settled into his stomach. He focused on burying it until later when the matter could be addressed with some modicum or discretion.

In the mean time, Keira was moving their tale outside, where a bonfire was getting started and the alcohol was being poured. He smiled when he heard Billy boast about his Scottish blood making him immune to the effects of liquor, Keira took him up on his challenge to prove it.