Thanksgiving Part Three: Dick

He loses every single hand.

It's totally not his fault. The sun is filtering though the windows behind Mac and are doing something weirdly amazing to her hair. It's all light up and halo-y and on top of that she keeps 'accidentally' touching him.

"I thought you said you were good at this Dick?" Mr. Mac smirks at him dealing out the last hand before dinner.

"I normally am." he glares at Mac and she just smiles at him counting her chips. He's caught her talking about his smile, saying its heart stopping but it can't have anything on the smile she just so causally throws at him like she does it everyday, like smiling at him is her natural fucking state. It tugs on all the important inside stuff and he has to look quickly away so that he doesn't just lean over the table and kiss her.

God he'd kiss her all the time if he was allowed.

If he is so heart stoppingly appealing then why won't she just be his god damn girlfriend already.

It had to be all the emotional junk attached to that word, girlfriend, that was what was keeping them apart. Something he had never for the life of him understood until now, because watching her across the table, from behind his cards as she sorts hers the softest look of concentration on her pretty face he understands that there actually is stuff attached to that word.

That boyfriend and girlfriend actually fucking mean something.

Logan would be so proud of him, Dick and his big boy feelings.

ugh these cards were shit.

Just don't let him lose to Ryan again, just focus and bluff the kid out because the second they get back home she is going to tell Veronica and Logan all about how he lost like eight hands to a fucking twelve-year-old. The fact that she also lost all those hands to her little brother won't even come up he just knows it.

He bluffs the kid out.

Thank god.

Now it's just Mac and Mr. Mac. They both look so calm, and in control of everything he can't stand it. They are entirely too good and he's starting to think that all these family camping trips he's heard about are really just a front for Mr. Mac to take his kids to Vegas or Reno or something.

He'd say they were sharking him if they'd let him get confident enough to raise the pot any. Nope they had completely destroyed any belief that he was any good at this terrible card game.

He can't read her. Not that that's really news. When has he ever been able to read Mac?

"Dick?"

"Uh what?" he turns to Mr. Mac whose waiting patiently for him to come out of whatever thoughts he's drowning in.

"Did you want to raise?"

He looks at both Mr. Mac and Mac, they are an odd confident blank and looks at his shit cards.

"No. I fold." he sets his cards down on the table and pushes up away from it. He moves around the table to put his hands on Mac. His fingers twist into her soft magical hair. Seriously was it the sun that did it? because her hair feels fucking amazing. He goes to a very happy place with the thought of his hands in her hair and her mouth...wait a second! Are those her cards?! He leans down to look over her should at her cards.

Her cards are shit.

They are worse than his cards.

He at least had a pair, she has absolutely nothing. She brushes his hands away from her and she turns to him, her face too close to his but she doesn't flinch away from the simulated familiarity her mouth twists into a smirk, "Why don't you help mom in the kitchen." shes fucking mocking him.

He swears that she's implying that he isn't a man. Well he'd be glad to show her just how much of a man he is...if she'd just commit to him...god maybe she's right.

He pulls her hair sharply before he goes to the kitchen to help Mrs. Mackenzie with dinner.

"Did you need any help Mrs. Mac?" he asks leaning against the fridge and watching as she flits around the kitchen checking on this, turning over that, poking something else. He's pretty sure she is the ultimate multitasker.

Veronica wishes she had this kind of skill. Not a single swear word passes her mouth and she seems perfectly content to have him in the kitchen.

"Could you grab the oven mitts please sweetheart?" She asks without even looking up from what she's doing.

Sweetheart? She's getting awfully familiar with him now isn't she. He doesn't really mind he just wishes that Mac would be this familiar with him.

He hands her the mitts and she looks up at him and he must look weird because her face softens and pulls from the task at hand to focus on him.

"I'm sorry Dick should I not have..."

"No. No it's fine...I just wish Mac would-" he closes his mouth quickly. Keep your mouth closed idiot just because these feelings thing is new doesn't mean you get to tell everyone about them. Although to be fair he doesn't know who he should be talking to about this. Obviously not Mac and Logan is insufferable and he's pretty sure he's only accumulated enough good karma for one pep talk from Ronnie.

"It'll take time Dick, but it'll happen." She seems so sure about it, "she's had a lot of trouble in this department since your brother..." He must look ashamed because she smiles at him, "do you know how many people she's invited to dinner before?"

He figures a few. Ronnie, probably Wallace and a boyfriend or two.

"One." She tells him, "You mean something to her Dick she's just trying to sort it out..." She looks up fondly at the table, at her family ant then to him. She pushes his hair out of his eyes and its such a soft motherly gesture that he feels lost for a moment. He's trying to remember any of his mothers doing that for him. Because he has this weird feeling that if he threw up right now on her pretty dress she'd still look at him softly and care more about him than how much dry cleaning would cost.

The only person he's ever had that looked after him was dead.

"Dick? Are you alright? Did you need some water?"

He swallows and it's thick, "No I'm fine. Thanks. I'm just going to go sit down if you didn't need anything."

"Go ahead I'm fine."

He leaves the kitchen and isn't sure were to go. These people make no sense. Why do they like him? He's a terrible person. Do they know anything about him? They must no parent is going to let their little girl move in with people they know nothing about...they had to know he was a whore.

The entire world knew he was a whore. A billionaire with a love of public indecency and easy women. There'd been a god damn TV special.

Son of a con man, brother of a psycho.

"Are you okay?" Macs voice fills whatever room it was he'd decided to hide himself in.

Hers.

Of course.

"Yeah I'm fine why?" He smiles at her and can tell she isn't buying it for a second.

"Mom's worried..." she looks down at her hands and he likes to think that maybe she was worried too.

He sits down heavily on her bed, his hands rubbing into his eyes.

"How can they like me?" He asks but he doesn't really want her to hear him. He's been so good with stuffing his baggage in the closet while they wait for her to unpack all hers.

"Dick..." She sighs softly and sits down next to him. She smells good, the same hot wires and clean linen and it eases the knots in his gut. She grabs his hands and pulls them away from his face.

There's no place to hide. But that is so often the case with Mac.

"I like you. Why is it so weird that they do?"

He's not sure but he thinks that's the first time she's actually admitted to liking him.

This should be a big deal...and it is...its just...

"How can you do that?" He wishes that he wasn't so pathetic, wants to be stronger than this, it'd be so much easier if her parents didn't like him. It's something he's used to. He could make them hate him he's sure. She's so close. He closes the distance between them and kisses her.

A/N: sorry this took so obscenely long. I had a completely different story in this chapter that I just couldn't figure out how to work with. And then I accidentally deleted it and had to start over. It went so much better the second time. Hope you like it.