To say that Walter Strickler was in a good mood would be a gross understatement. He paused after locking his car, looking up at the clear sky and smiling to himself. As much as he hated Merlin, the old wizard knew his magic. His years trapped in his troll form had been hard on him —despite Barbara insisting, he was never convinced that shade umbrellas were very fashionable— and he was determined to enjoy every moment of being human that he had. He adjusted his hold on the bag of groceries he had picked up on his way. He had planned this for weeks. There was no way he was letting anything mess it up.

Jim had practically ran inside when he heard the car, waiting at the front door with a frown. His mom deserved better than some ex-changling, especially one who had put her in harm's way on multiple occasions. Walter hadn't even called him to ask if he could date her! I mean of course his mom could make her own decisions, it wasn't that he doubted her, but why Strickler? And his mom and him… that was his entire family. Shouldn't a guy at least ask his opinion before just letting himself in?

Jim heard Walter's footfalls on the front steps and pulled the door open, ready to give him an earful. He paused as he looked over the man before him. He looked… Shocked—but not unpleasantly so—to see him, a smile tugging at his features.

"Ah, young Atlas. You've aged well. I was wondering when I might see you again."

He stepped past him, heading to the kitchen and setting the bag on the counter, starting to unpack it. From the outside he looked incredibly relaxed. This was not the case.

Jim is back. And he's human. Pale Lady what did I do to deserve this… Relax. He won't know a thing is wrong if you keep calm. Don't show weakness.

Jim snapped out of his state of shock, glaring after Walter. He closed the door, walking over to the entryway to the kitchen and crossing his arms.

So that's how it is huh. Ironic how changelings never seem to change. Two can play at this game you old man.

"Stricklander," He fought to hide his smirk at the way the man jumped a little, "Let me do that for you. You should rest."

The implication was not lost on Walter and his fingers unconsciously drifted toward the knife block.

"That won't be necessary son," Walter watched Jim's knuckles turn white at the term, "I'm quite capable of running a household. I've been looking after Barbara for the past six years after all."

And I was planning to surprise her with a lovely romantic dinner this evening but obviously that's off the menu now no thanks to you. I suppose you thought you could just take off for six years and I would be stupid enough to happily bow out of your life the moment you returned? Perhaps trollhunting alone isn't why you did so poorly in your last year of school Jim.

Jim took a breath, forcing his muscles to relax as he walked over beside him and picked up the bottle of wine. He scowled at the price tag. Expensive wine meant a special occasion. He doubted that Strickler could match his own cooking skills. Perhaps he should offer to cook tonight.

"Mom's favourite huh? Trying to compensate for something?"

Walter grit his teeth, silently putting away the last few groceries before turning to face Jim. The tension in the air was thick enough that he could cut it, something he wasn't unfamiliar with, in particular when it came to him and the boy's relationship. He could handle this.

He couldn't handle this. This smart mouthed man was ten times worse than the boy he had taught years ago. How dare he imply that he—

Claire rubbed her eyes sleepily, a frown working its way onto her face. Who was talking so loudly when she was trying to sleep? She sat up, looking through the opening into the kitchen and sighing inwardly. That wasn't likely to stop anytime soon. She lay back down and draped an arm across her face.

"Jim…. Couldn't you two have waited till I woke up?"

She felt sleep gently tugging at her mind as silence fell over the kitchen for a moment. How long had it been since she slept this well? She couldn't remember. Maybe a few moments more wouldn't hurt if she could just—

Strickler's voice was officially her least favourite sound. At least the volume had diminished. She sighed, taking a moment to process the previous night, her annoyance evaporating in a heartbeat.

Jim was home.

No more late nights wondering if he was hurt. No more 4am conversations with unsteady cell signal. No more being alone.

She smiled, climbing to her feet and doing her best to smooth out her clothes. A brief encounter with her reflection made it clear her braid wasn't salvageable. Shrugging it off she poked her head into the kitchen.

Huh. Who knew you could chop vegetables that angrily. Then again Jim did have more experience recently using blades as weapons as opposed to kitchen utensils. Strickler on the other hand…

Strickler set down the spatula he had been holding, sneaking warmly, "Miss Nunez. I suppose I should have suspected that with Jim being home you would be right by his side. I'm happy for you two. Relationships between species can be... complicated at times. Particularly those which are also long distance. Why I can only imagine if Barbara and I were—"

Claire stifled a laugh as Jim diced several carrots aggressively, tossing a pointed look a Strickler that stopped him from continuing his thought. She walked over and stood on her toes, kissing her boyfriend's cheek and running a hand over his unkempt hair. Her phone alarm went off and she made a face.

Life waits for no one. I'd better head out now if I'm going to drive Enrique to school today.

Jim sighed, pausing his assault on the vegetables long enough to pull her into a hug.

"You've gotta head out... I'd know that expression anywhere. It's the same face mom always made…"

Claire nodded, her voice muffled by his chest, "Gonna need you to stop crushing me first troll boy…"

Strickler snorted, playing it off by clearing his throat and speaking up, "Jim why don't you see her home? I believe I can handle making dinner in your absence.

Jim let Claire go and hesitated a moment before sighing. The tension in the air dissolving like winter giving way to spring.

He nodded, gesturing to the frying pan with vegetables in oil on the burner as he replied, "Don't let that heat up too much. The only one who gets away with setting stuff on fire in this kitchen is mom. Strickler just..." He paused, seeming unsure about his next words, "try not to make me regret this."

A calm silence fell over the house as they door shut behind them. The sunlight sliced through the window and painted Walter's shadow across the floor. Jims words were heavy in his mind.

Did this mean he trusted him? Was he giving him a chance to prove himself? Maybe… maybe he could still fix this. All he had to do was— What was that burning smell?

Walter's train of thought went up in flames with the oil in the pan. He turned the burner off and moved the pan, using a dishcloth to beat out the fire.

At least it wasn't the meat. Vegetables are much more easily, and cheaply, replaced. Hopefully Jim would understand. Accidents happen after all.

Walter cleaned up the mess and started over, everything finished and beautifully plated by the time Barbara got home that evening. He could practically see the stress melt off her shoulders as she stepped inside and was met with the smell of dinner. She looked beautiful. Not that this was something he considered less than constant when it came to the redhead but she practically glowed today, any traces of worry of grief far banished from her features. His breath caught when she smiled at him.

He loved her. This… This was what made human life worth living. He couldn't fly. He wasn't inhumanly strong. He couldn't see in the dark even remotely. But he could make the most beautiful woman in history smile like that. He could make her happy.

He couldn't have kept the smile out of his voice if he tried while he greeted her, "Hello love. You look breathtaking."

She laughed, kissing his cheek and shaking her head a little. He could practically feel himself fall more in love with her every time he heard that sound.

"Walt you always say that but I'm pretty sure that my uniform isn't the most flattering thing I have in my closet."

He smiled, kissing her forehead as he took her jacket.

"I said you look breathtaking Barbara. Not your uniform. I'll let you go change into something more comfortable though. Dinner's on the table and

I suspect Jim will be returning soon. He was walking Claire home. You did an impeccable job raising him into such a fine young man."

Barbara nodded, hugging him tightly before heading upstairs, calling down, "Jim's accidentally crashing a date you planned isn't he."

He knew that tone. It wasn't really a question, nevertheless, as always when dealing with women, he also knew there still remained such thing as the wrong answer.

He paused a moment before replying, "Jim is your son. I'm not opposed to a family dinner for a change. Though I fear he may call my culinary skills into question if comparing them to his own."

He heard her laugh and smiled, double checking everything was in place.

A family dinner. He hadn't had one of those in a long time.. and never with a real family. Never one where he belonged. Perhaps Jim being home wasn't such a bad thing after all. He just needed the boy to warm up to him.

When Jim got home and walked into the dining room he frowned, his eyes examining the plates of food. Those weren't the vegetables he had cut. There was no way this was accidental. It was too convenient.

All right Strickler. You don't wanna play nice? I don't want to play nice either. This though… this was petty. I almost thought you were better than that. My mistake.