A/N - sorry for the delay in posting and thank you to those of you who reached out! Work was ... work. Anyway, we watched the Super Bowl tonight and although football is not a sport that I follow, I liked the halftime show. I heard from friends that they hated it. Anyone feel strongly either way? Now onto the story... xoxo - tmtcltb
A/N2 - for Aspect, since she asked about Bacon. And a great big thank you to Scousedancer for helping me bounce ideas for this one! This one is a bit different but I like how it turned out and I hope that you do too!
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Character: Bernie "Bacon" Cowley
Setting: St. Louis, between seasons 2 and 3, canon through season 2
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Bernie Cowley, aka Bacon, sat at the four-top sipping his beer. The décor in this place was terrible, the service worse, but it was the only restaurant in St. Louis that served edible jambalaya. Assuming that you were using the terms "jambalaya" and "edible" loosely. The dish before him contained no shrimp or sausage, and was about as bland as white rice. With the current supply shortages, Bacon assumed that half the ingredients were simply unavailable. Although he wasn't sure he could forgive the lack of salt, given that there was a full shaker sitting on every table in the joint.
"What are you drinking?"
Bacon glanced up at the familiar voice to find Eric Miller, Javier Cruz, Danny Green, and Carlton Burk heading in his direction. He nodded to his pint glass. "An ale. It's all the place has on draft."
The group crowded around the too-small table, Danny flipping his chair to sit backwards and picking up a menu. "What's good here?"
"Nothing," Bacon and Javier responded in unison, cracking Carlton up.
"Jinx!" Javier shouted.
Bacon flipped him off, turning back to Green. "Beer is acceptable. This used to be a brewery so the guy knows what he is doing there. Food is subpar."
Danny pinned them both with what Bacon recognized as his I'm-not-in-the-mood-for-this-shit look, the one the guy used to wear a lot before he and Kara kissed and made up. "Why are we here if the food is bad?"
"Bad jambalaya is better than no jambalaya," Javier responded with a shrug. "And nobody asked you to join us. You're just pissy because Kara has to work."
Well, that did explain both Green's presence and his bad mood. Danny rolled his eyes, attempting to flag down a server as he responded. "It's BS. We just got back from delivering the vaccine to Phoenix and the James leaves Friday and Kara can't get a single day off work to spend some time together."
Carlton cut him off. "Tisk tisk. Your wife is tired of your ugly mug already, Green. That doesn't bode well for your future marital bliss."
"Tisk Tisk?" Javier repeated, snorting.
Talking about the Nathan James' impending departure reminded Bacon that he was not going to be on-board when the ship left, having failed his most recent physical. Commander Slattery had been sympathetic to Bacon's circumstances but unbending in his decision. Bacon was going nowhere until he lost the last thirty pounds to get down to regulation weight. Which meant that, starting Friday, somebody else was going to be in charge of feeding his people.
Bacon stood. "I think the server is on break. Let me rustle up some drinks."
By the time Bacon procured drinks and food for everyone, the conversation had moved on from Danny's irritation with his wife to Carlton's irritation with his brother.
"He actually started giving me a lecture on how the 50-inch was prone to jamming," Carlton grumbled. "As if I hadn't lived on the ship for three years. Hell, I'm the one who got chased through a ship by insurgents while Foster, I mean Green, fiddled with the thing. The guy is such a damn know-it-all."
"Must run in the family," Eric muttered, then flushed bright red when everyone turned to him in surprise.
Danny slapped him on the back. "We're starting to rub off on you, kid."
Bacon set down the food and watched as they all dug in. "Manifest is out then?"
"Yup." Javier took a spoonful, before making a face and reaching for the salt. He applied liberally. "Saw that you got transferred to the White House."
"Back to cooking for the man," Bacon replied, forcing a smile. A month of one-on-one training sessions with Tex had resulted in Bacon losing twenty pounds between Baltimore and St. Louis. But, following their arrival, long days spent feeding not just the crew but the surge of refugees who flooded the city looking for both the cure and a safe place to stay had stalled Bacon's progress. And then, just when things started to calm down, there had been the news from Nashville.
Bacon cut that train of thought off immediately.
Really, he should be flattered. His new role as head chef for President Michener came with a promotion and a pay raise. Plus, he would still get to see Captain Chandler and Kara daily, both of whom had promised to keep him updated on the Nathan James and her crew.
Which reminded Bacon of something that he wanted to tell Danny. "I've been taking lunch up to Lieutenant Green every day. Heavy on the protein since she's now in her third trimester. It's supposed to help the baby gain weight."
"Thanks man." Danny smiled but, much like Bacon, the gesture was clearly forced. His eyes remaining somber. The eyes of a man who wasn't going to be around to see his son born. Who understood the very real possibility that he would never meet his son at all. Danny took a hesitant spoonful of the jambalaya. "Actually this isn't bad. Usually this stuff is way too spicy."
Javier glanced at Bacon, rolling his eyes. "Connecticut."
Bacon chuckled as he took a long drink of his newly refreshed ale. Danny's food quirks had been the source of amusement in the galley since he came on board last year. As if anyone could actually locate the finely-diced onions in Bacon's homemade meatballs. And who hated tomatoes? At least the guy didn't complain when the only food option that contained neither coconut, tomatoes, or onions was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"You should open that restaurant you used to talk about, Bacon," Eric said. "Your food is way better than this. Even when we were short on supplies you always came up with something good."
"Restaurants cost money," Bacon said with a shake of his head. Besides, it wouldn't be the same. Not without Bert and Louis. Bacon felt the familiar lump growing in his throat. The one that had appeared the day that Captain Chandler appeared in the cafeteria asking to see him, flanked by Commander Garnett and Master Chief Jeter The purpose of their visit immediately obvious to everyone present. That had been their dream. The three brothers opening a restaurant together. Bacon doing the cooking while Bert ran the front and Louis managed the business side.
But now Bert and Louis were gone, and Bacon was alone.
"I have some money."
Everyone turned to look at Danny after that announcement. He shrugged, although his cheeks grew slightly pink. "I mean, not a million bucks or anything, but deployment bonuses add up and I've never really spent much. Figured that I should save it for a rainy day."
"Um, shouldn't you talk to Kara about it before offering money to people?" Carlton responded.
Danny shrugged. "She won't care. We talked about buying a house but it doesn't make sense to do that until we know where I'll be stationed long-term. Besides, not like we're going to lose money. Can you imagine Bacon's place not being a raging success?" Danny waved a hand around them. "I mean, look at the competition. Hell, giving it to Bacon is probably safer than a bank right now."
"I've got some savings too," Javier said, clearly mulling over Danny's words. "I want to keep a bit of cash available for Maria and the boys, but Green has a point. I trust Bacon way more than I trust any bank."
"I'm in," Carlton added. "Be nice to own a piece of something. Miller?"
Eric gulped. "Well, sure, I guess. But I don't have much. Just my back pay."
"Bacon's doing the work so he should own the majority of the restaurant. We'd just be silent investors." Danny grabbed a napkin and held out a hand for a pen, which Carlton supplied. "You'll need what, Bacon, about a hundred grand to get something going?"
Everyone stared at Bacon. He swallowed, his chest tight. "Yeah, around there. Might be able to do it on seventy-five if I cut some corners. I have about fifty with..." he paused. "With the money from my family."
The money that he and Bert and Louis had saved over the past ten years, penny-pinching and taking on extra deployments for the tax-free cash. Their nest egg. The one that would allow them to live out their dream.
The account that Bacon was now the sole owner of.
There was a moment of silence. The guys all knew that his family was dead, of course, there being no such thing as a secret on a 200-person destroyer. His parents and both brothers perishing in the Nashville football stadium turned safe zone. The loss made worse because the stadium wasn't exposed until November - almost two months after the Nathan James' arrival in Baltimore and mere weeks before they made it to St. Louis. If the Ramseys hadn't bombed the laboratories responsible for distribution, every one of the fifty thousand people who died in that safe zone would probably still be alive.
Bacon looked at the men sitting with him, meeting each man's gaze, before asking bluntly. "Why would you give me your money?"
"To make money," Carlton replied.
Danny elbowed him. "Look Bacon, you have a gift. Not just for cooking, but for making people feel good while they eat. You should use it."
"Right now your food is about as close as most of us are coming to a home cooked meal," Javier added. "Everyone was pretty bummed to learn that you were transferred off the Nathan James. Knowing we're coming back to a restaurant would lift a lot of spirits."
"Besides, this is one of those cannot fail ideas. Look at how crowded this place is and we all agree that the food," Danny waved at the half-eaten bowls of jambalaya, "is mediocre. Imagine what it would look like if the food was good. And there was actually service," he added with a dark look towards the kitchens.
"I'd need help..." Bacon started, still struggling with the realization that they were serious. They were willing to trust him with thousands of their hard-earned dollars. Because they believed in his ability to create something. Because they believed in him.
It was a heady feeling.
As well as slightly terrifying.
"Maria used to hostess at an upscale place in New Orleans," Javier mulled. "I can't promise you anything until I talk to her, but I bet she would be willing to help. Owning a piece of the place would be a big motivator. Besides, working afternoons/nights is a better schedule for the boys. That lets her do their schoolwork and spend time together during the day."
"My mom is looking for work," Rick piped up. "She managed a diner for years."
Danny took another spoonful of jambalaya. "Kara's mom might be able to help with licensing or whatever. Debbie's been working with Vice President Howard to set up a Chamber of Commerce and promote the economy here. I'll tell her to give you a call."
"Tex is going to be pissed that he skipped lunch," Carlton said. "Maybe we offer to cut him in if he helps Bacon source some decent priced food supplies."
Having worked out the details to their satisfaction, Danny turned to Bacon. "So what do you think, Bacon? You interested in running your own place? It would probably mean leaving the Navy, at least for a while."
As he looked around the table, Bacon felt his smile grow until he was grinning ear-to-eat. Because this wasn't about the money, not really. This was about so much more. Bacon's parents and brothers might be gone, and his dream of working with his brothers would never be. But that didn't mean he was alone. He still had a family. One forged through pain and horror and loss, but also trust and camaraderie and hope.
Bacon stuck out his hand, shaking each of theirs in turn. "I even have the perfect name. The Hangout."