Lu's backyard consisted of an acre of grassy, open space, all of which was encircled by thick woodland. The occasional adult tree peppered the grounds as did a small, stagnant pond, a vegetable and herb garden, and further away from the house, the makeshift shooting range.
Closer to the porch was the patio area with a nearby firepit ready to be sparked up come evening. Umbrellas lodged into the center of three tables helped keep you cool when the sun was at its highest point. It was on the table nearest to them that an assortment of covered trays resided, each housing vegetables, fruit, meats, and cheeses. Plates and paper cups were also set up, and hugging the table legs were at least four coolers packed with ice and various beverages.
Before they could formally approach the patio and greet everyone... they were attacked!
Joker was the first to receive a boisterous welcome as Rocket – suddenly reanimated from his nap – bounded over with a series of delirious barks. She briefly feared the retriever was going to knock Joker on his ass with the intensity he was sprinting at, but at the last second, Lu's whistle pierced the air, causing Rocket to grind to a halt.
It made her giggle, watching him plop down just a few feet from Joker's legs, wearing the world's most adorable pout. Upon risking a peek at Joker, she noticed a smirk tugging at his lips.
Having witnessed what Rocket did wrong, Archer was much calmer in his approach; bounding over to them with a lopsided grin.
"Hi guys!" she said, lifting her glass up a little so she didn't spill it. "Long time no see!"
This set them both off as they barked and yipped and circled the duo before Archer hopped up onto his hindlegs and rested his paws on Celine's shoulders.
It was a little tricky giving the dog her full attention when Joker was keeping her attached to him, but she managed; offering the panting retriever a slew of head and cheek scratches as Rocket busied himself with sniffing Joker to within an inch of his life.
The man could complain about the nature of golden retrievers all he liked, but he was transparent as Caribbean water in that moment. Releasing her shirt, he extended his free hand so it was at chest height. Rocket accepted the invitation instantly, hopping up in search of head pettings. Which Joker initially denied, then relented.
Though, he made sure to space them out so Rocket had to repeatedly headbutt his palm to earn what he sought. Thankfully, this was one retriever who wasn't too proud to beg, and Joker was all too happy making him.
"Good mutts," he praised. "Sharing one brain cell between ya. That's the life, ain't it?"
Neither dog was aware they were being insulted, though having now recognized her scent, it was Joker who became the recipient of their snouts.
"Boys!" Lu called, releasing another whistle through his fingers. "Over here! C'mon, get!"
Neither retriever was thrilled with their inspection being cut short, but Lucien had them trained well.
They did a half turn before booking it in Lu's direction.
She wasn't sure what to call the noise that ricocheted in Joker's throat. Feeling bold, she slipped an arm around his lower back. This instantly earned her his sharp gaze.
"You miss Jolly Jane and Countess?"
His scars twitched. She could tell he was debating whether to be truthful or not.
"Miss bossing them around," was his evasive response.
"I'm sure they miss being bossed around by you," she teased. "In the meantime, I'll have to bear that burden, won't I?"
She threw him a wink.
His face briefly resembled a melting glacier. It made her heart stutter in the most intense way. Just as quickly, he evened his expression out until it was blank.
They didn't get the chance to say much else as all the occupants of the table stood and made their way over to the duo.
"Cece!" Layla was the first to exclaim, nearly tripping over her feet. "Good to see you, honey."
From her semi-erratic movements, Celine suspected her cousin to be comfortably buzzed. Her body had always been of a slender nature, even after giving birth three times. And with how busy family life kept her she rarely got the chance to let loose, thus making her tolerance to alcohol exceptionally low.
Retracting her arm from Joker's back, she stepped forward to accept Layla's hug.
"Hey, Layla," she said, chuckling a little. "It's good to see you too."
"You have no idea how worried I was," Layla replied, pulling back to better examine her face. "Are you doing okay? Did that maniac hurt you? And jeez, what happened to your nose?"
"I'm doing good," she answered. "I think half of Gotham's citizens have been kidnapped by one criminal or another. You go on, business as usual. And no, no he didn't hurt me. The nose... well, I sorta ran into mom's door. Jack did his best to try and straighten it out, but uhm... it's a work in progress."
Layla's shoulders sunk in relief. Her eyes skipped to the man behind her. Before she could say anything else, they were joined by the others.
"Hey Cece," Nelson greeted, dipping his beer bottle once in her direction, "good to see you again."
Eli pulled her into a firm hug.
He was the tallest one among everyone present, just north of six feet and five inches. One glance at his burly chest, wide shoulders, and thick thighs, and the last thing you would expect him to be was a tax accountant. But after sustaining a career-ending football injury in college, he set his sights on the other skill he excelled at – mathematics.
"You doing alright, Cee?" he grumbled, peering down at her.
She nodded.
"Better, now that I'm here. Work going good?"
"Good as can be. You?"
She hesitated, recalling just what a whirlwind she'd endured prior to returning home.
"We had a recent hiccup," she answered carefully. "But we're back on track."
Eli made way for his wife Rita, who offered her the longest hug yet.
"What a nightmare it must've been," she lamented, "so good to see you back, Celine. Please tell me you're armed with some sort of weapon now. Oh, it's so dangerous in that city, only a matter of time this happened."
Rita was a bit of a... worrier. Which, on one hand, it was nice to be fretted about by someone. Made you feel cared about. On the other hand, if Rita didn't have something glaring to worry over, she'd seek a more minor thing out and exacerbate its importance to an unnecessary degree.
This had, in the past, been a strain on her and Eli's marriage. He was generally good at counteracting her anxiety by grounding her in reality, but after their first child, it'd become beyond his ability to assist in.
Things were rocky between them for a while, especially being co-owners of the same tax firm. But Rita had a moment of self-awareness that finally pushed her to seek out a therapist.
It only benefited their relationship in the long run, and though she was still prone to her moments of anxiousness, she was miles better than she'd been.
"I ended up getting a taser gun," she answered. "It's at the house right now, I figured I wasn't going to need it here. I'm not, am I?"
Rita chuckled, pulling back.
"No, I suppose not."
The crowd grew larger as Eugene, Martin, and Vivian joined in the festivities.
Lauren chose to linger near the grills with Lucien, who was doing his best to keep the retrievers preoccupied. They were very excitable at the moment.
"How the hell are ya, Cece?"
She grinned as Martin scooped her into a hug.
"Really good, happy to be home. You?"
"Swell!" he exclaimed, releasing her. "Heard some muggers roughed you up. Police got their addresses by chance?"
"It wasn't anything serious," she promised. "Rest assured; they've been taken care of."
"If they ain't in the ground," Martin countered, "then they ain't been taken care of."
Celine fought back the unhinged urge to laugh.
"Dad," Layla scolded, "you're going to get the police called on you one of these days."
As Martin turned to debate with his daughter, Vivian stepped forth and brandished her with a hug as well.
"What a relief you're back with us," she said, rubbing her back. "I couldn't sleep until I knew you were safe."
Her "Aunt" Vivian usually carried the energy of a sparkplug, so to see her so solemn unnerved her. She hated concerning someone to the point of their inner light dimming.
"It wasn't as bad as it was portrayed in the news," she clarified. "Even when things got dicey, I knew I'd be alright in the end."
"Good of you to have that sort of faith. I'm not sure I would have, were I in your shoes."
Shaking her head, Celine met her gaze.
"You don't give yourself enough credit."
"Nora used to say the same." She brushed some dandruff off her shoulder. "Let it be known, you Harlow women really know how to encourage a gal."
Eugene graced her with a one-armed hug, patting her back a couple times.
"Nice seeing you, kiddo."
When all of the hugs and greetings were out of the way, Celine inched backwards to Joker's side. His left hand was twitching a little. She placed it on her back so he had something to pour his nerves into.
"So ah-." She cleared her throat, figuring it was best to get it out of the way. "Everyone, this is Jack. He's my... significant other."
Joker was rigid beside her, thumb tapping hastily against her spine.
Marc was the only one who kept his examination brief. Everyone else wore looks that ranged from intrigue to surprise to a very lengthy squint on Layla's part.
Vivian was the first to break the ice.
"Hi Jack, we're so glad you could join us today. How're you enjoying Calgary Cliff?"
He was quiet for a few seconds.
"It's... fine."
The short response earned him a few raised eyebrows. Eli in particular was scrutinizing him beneath his brows in a way that made her more than a little nervous.
"We've not really been in town much," she admitted. "I've been showing Jack the trails by the house and we've been swimming a lot."
"Keeping him to yourself, are you Cece?" Martin teased.
She blushed a little.
"Hard not to," was her quiet response.
Joker seemed to approve of this answer as his thumb abruptly stopped drumming against her.
"How did you two meet?" Vivian asked, glancing between them.
"D wanted me to hold off on that story until she was out here," Celine answered. "But uh, I can say it was because of Oz Ascending. He... found it useful and reached out to me. Now... here we are."
"That doesn't surprise me," Rita pitched in with an emphatic nod. "I tell everyone I can about that app. How nice it is to have a resource to those ailments no one can see. Good on you, Jack, for reaching out. Too often men hold it in... women too. You can't have a healthy society if access to mental health is accessible to just a few."
A round of agreeable murmurs sounded. Joker shifted in place, not saying anything.
"Lu mentioned," Martin input, "that you served in Afghanistan. Will us shooting rifles be a problem?"
He asked this from a place of well-being; sympathetic to any residual trauma he might've flown home with. But, Joker misinterpreted it.
In Joker's defense, Martin spoke with quite a bit of muscle behind his words, especially after he had a few drinks in him. It was hard not to feel challenged by the question.
"Been waiting for this all day," he rumbled. "Go nuts."
"Swell! Can we get you a beer?" he followed up. "I see you're a fan of our cider, we've got a blend that's whiskey and rum-based. Pick your poison."
She could feel Joker beginning to get agitated. His nails were digging into her and his breathing pattern was picking up. She wasn't sure if it was due to the amount of conversation he was being subjected to, or whether Uncle Martin's personality was rubbing him wrong.
"Jack doesn't drink," she replied.
"No?" He nodded. "I respect that, especially serving where you did. Anyone else? You all got a place to sleep here, so don't be shy now. Remember, it's never too late to start drinking early!"
This earned him a few groans and eye rolls. Suffice to say, he recycled this motto on a frequent enough basis that the novelty had long ago worn off.
Having said that, everyone minus Rita and Eli agreed to a cup.
The group made their way over to the coolers, falling back into discussion with one another. It seemed they had gotten the hint she and Jack needed some room to breathe. Of which she was grateful. As she'd mentioned before, her family wasn't a dumb bunch.
The sudden commotion proved too much for Rocket and Archer, who slipped Lu's side and pursued after the group.
Celine's gaze strayed over to Lauren, who was watching her with furrowed brows. She offered her cousin a nod, and was relieved to see it slowly returned.
With this non-verbal greeting out of the way, she peered up at Joker.
"You doing alright?"
He was frowning, though not as severely as she feared. His eyes were following every one of Uncle Martin's movements.
"I don't like him," was his quiet response. "Men like him don't have an off button. Bullet between the eyes usually does the trick."
"He can be a little rambunctious," she agreed, electing to ignore the latter half of his statement. "But, it's in good fun. He's got a heart of gold, and would give you the shirt off his back if you asked. And... let's be real, you don't exactly have an off button either. Well, not one that I know of anyway."
To lighten the mood, she offered his torso a series of pokes with her index finger.
"Here? No. How about here? Rats, I got excited for a second." She prodded at his jawline. "Here? Mm, that's definitely not it."
His expression morphed into what was quickly becoming one of her favorites on him. Grumpy in the mouth, reluctantly amused in the eyes.
"Cece!" They both turned toward Martin, who had one hand cupped around his mouth. "We're getting ready to do some shooting. See you both there."
She raised a hand in acknowledgement, watching as everyone made their way over to the shooting range.
Lu turned the knobs of the grills down to their lowest setting before following after the group. Lauren trailed after him, though, not without the occasional glance in their direction.
"That the one who doesn't like you much?"
Startled, she looked at him.
"What makes you say that?"
"You ah admitted as much in the church."
She thought back to their first encounter and realized he was right.
"It's such a minor detail to remember," she marveled. "Why would that stick out to you?"
It was another instance where he looked at her like she should know better.
"I remember everything from that first meeting. It's ah... scorched into my brain."
She didn't respond right away, eyes fluttering shut instead. It was as if his words had mutated into fingers, arranging the puzzle pieces of that first meeting back into place. She tilted her head, wondering if the same could be said for her. Was that meeting scorched into her too?
"You were... humming something," she recalled, smiling a little. "Coming down the stairs of the basement that first time. What cartoon was it from? I couldn't place it."
When he didn't answer, she opened her eyes.
A bit of fondness had crept into his gaze. That she had just as vivid a recollection pleased him more than she realized.
"Guess," he said. "I'll uh give you a refresher."
The way he was gazing at her reignited that feeling again. Like they were the only two people that existed on this planet.
He started to hum under his breath, though it was much less out of tune than it'd been the first time. She listened for close to ten seconds before her eyes grew bright.
"Soaring high in the sky," she sang. "He may be small but ooonly in size. Astro Boy, Astro Boy! He is brave and gentle and wiiiise."
It was if someone had clipped jumper cables to the corners of his scars.
"Ding-ding-ding!"
She shook her head, unable to hold back a grin.
"That version of the show is so obscure, I'm surprised you remember it. They did a marathon once when I was six or seven on our local ABC station, then I never saw it again. How'd you catch it?"
He shrugged.
"VHS tapes. Libraries weren't the only places I ah... borrowed from."
She wasn't sure why it tickled her so much to envision a tiny, young Jack thieving cartoon tapes from the video store.
"Did you resell the tapes too?"
"Mm, some." He shrugged, seemingly not wanting to linger too long on this question. "More focused at the time on collecting every show I could. Lost interest after awhile. Some were sold, some are probably still under the floorboards."
She tried not to react to this. If dream-memory served her right, the floorboards he was referencing were in his bedroom. And the tapes might still be there, though, that was dependent on what became of the house after he'd left.
It took nearly a minute for the pain in her mouth to register. She was biting her tongue so hard it was throbbing.
I so badly want to ask. Was it demolished? Abandoned? Snatched up by the bank? Is his dad still living in it? Was it fixed up and now serves as a home for a new family?
"What?"
He was staring at her with pinched brows and a squint.
"Thanks for sharing," came her scrambled reply. "It's... neat to think we were watching the same show from different parts of the country. And that all these decades later, it stuck with us."
He continued staring at her.
"Mm, I guess."
His shrug was dismissive, and alerted her he was done sharing. She was, nevertheless, thankful he did. It was an important reminder that when it came to their first meeting, his memory was pristine. As was hers, it turned out.
"You uh-." She cleared her throat. "-want to go join in?"
She gestured her head toward the rest of her family.
He didn't so much as spare them a glance.
"Eat," was his short command. "If I hear your stomach grumble one more time, I'm gonna drive back to that diner and paint the walls red with Bacteria's throat."
She paled, a nervous laugh shooting out of her.
The look he aimed at her held no traces of amusement.
Wordlessly, she approached the table and got to work on making herself a plate. Joker meanwhile gulped down the rest of his cider, flipped the glass over, and set it on the table.
Still a little dazed by their previous conversation, she sought to change the subject.
"Did you want anyth-."
Before she could finish the question, his head was hovering over her shoulder and an arm had snuck under her armpit. He plucked a piece of cheese, salami, and two crackers from her plate. Not even a second later, he was munching noisily into her ear; a few crumbs trickling down her blouse.
"Rude," she lightly chastised, replenishing her plate with all that he'd stolen.
Just as quickly as it arrived on her plate, his fingers snatched it all up again.
"Mm, can't help it," he said, pressing his front into her back. "Was trying to be a good boy and ah not say anything, but the food at Leo's was... godawful."
Was it sad that she wasn't the least bit offended?
"You're right," she said, shifting over a little so he wasn't directly over her shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you can just-."
He repeated the offence for the third time, snatching all that she'd plated before she could even blink.
"Ugh!" she groaned, shoving the plate in his hand. "Alright, you win! It's yours!"
He unexpectedly grabbed her around the middle, rested a smirking cheek against her neck, and gloated lowly, "I always do."
As mildly annoying as his antics were, they were ultimately harmless. She found an unwilling smile gracing her lips as she got another plate out and got to work stockpiling it.
It seemed both of them were too hungry to do anything other than hang out near the table, devouring the items on their plate. She noticed Joker kept his distance from the fruit tray, which held sliced apples, bananas, watermelon, strawberries, and grapes. In fact, he kept glaring at it in such an acidic manner that she was having a hard time not saying anything.
Five seconds later, a lightbulb went off in her head.
"It's not the apples," she gathered. "You were eating one our first day here. So... that leaves either the bananas, strawberries, watermelon, or grapes."
He stiffened so quickly it briefly unsettled her. Even his hands - halfway up to his mouth - were frozen in place.
"You're allergic to one of them," she finished.
It took almost a minute for him to answer.
"Why ah is i-t you care so much?
His voice was a thunderous warning in the distance. Whether it would approach or keep away was all dependent on her response.
"Because I don't want my soulmate to end up with a swollen throat?" she returned, meeting his gaze. "Or to break out in hives? Or end up in the hospital? Or in a fucking graveyard?"
She hadn't meant to be so crass, but his question manifested its own storminess. What did he mean why did it matter? Because she'd be without him if his allergy was lethal.
He must've detected some version of this in her eyes because when he responded, it held less menace than before.
"It's ah one of them."
She released a groan, rubbing a hand over her face.
"If I didn't care about you so much," she stated. "I would have my family hold you down and shove every single fruit from that dish down your throat."
He smirked, brows rising in sync.
"Yeah?" he lapped at his scars. "You gonna sit on my waist? Rock your groin into mine? Mm, I could get into that. And into you too if ya move your panties to the side. Will ya do that, Cece? Will you be a good girl and let me fuck into you while your family watches?"
She wasn't sure if her cheeks were heating up out of frustration or arousal. When he bit into two cucumber slices and some water squirted out of his mouth, she realized it was the latter.
Bastard.
She inhaled deeply and tossed her plate in the trash can beside the table. For the time being, her appetite was satiated, and she welcomed literally any distraction that didn't involve looking at the man at her side for more than ten seconds. Her loins were stupidly obedient to him; now wasn't the time to discover just how much.
He picked up on her intent without her having to say a word. Tossing his plate in the trash, he waited for her to finish up her lemonade before they both made their way over to the range.
The "shooting" range was just another testament to Lu's inventiveness.
On one half of the yard stood three ten-foot sawhorses he'd constructed out of wood. The frames of the sawhorses were a little lengthier than traditional ones you would find in stores, and that was so you could fit all the targets onto them.
The first sawhorse had six 2-liter soda bottles hanging via twine that was wrapped and knotted around the frame. Three of the bottles were filled with water – it was a blast to get these shots on target as the bottles exploded when you did. The other three bottles were empty. It all depended on what you felt like shooting at- liquid or air.
The second sawhorse had eight 12 oz soda cans hanging from the frame. They were all empty, and considerably smaller targets for the more experienced shooter.
The last sawhorse was for friendly competition. Two thick posters straight out of a gun range were suspended in place. Five circles – switching between black and white - gradually decreased in size until the bull's eye remained.
In each section of the circle was a number. The larger the circle, the smaller the number. So, if you managed a shot at the largest one, you'd have a lower score like 5, whereas striking the bull's eye rewarded you with the highest score – in this case – a 10.
Joker's examination of this set up was brief. It was the targets on the other half of the yard that caught his attention.
On top of a rifle collection, Lu was also a bow enthusiast and hunted frequently during bow season. He had four total – a longbow, a recurve bow, a compound bow, and a crossbow with a sight attached.
Three bales of hay were set up to shoot arrows at, spaced about five feet apart from one other. Each bale had a poster tacked onto the front with circles gradually decreasing in traditional black, blue, and red colors until there was only the bull's eye.
"How did someone like you-." He peered down at her; brows crunched. "-come from a family like this?"
He didn't ask this in the most tactful manner, but she didn't mind. Considering her generally pacifistic nature, it seemed unlikely that she would have come from a background of guns, bows, and hunters.
Before she could answer, Martin interrupted.
"There they are." He finished his beer and tossed it in a nearby recycle bin. "Guest of honor should shoot first, eh Lu?"
Lu nodded.
"Sounds about right. That okay with you, Jack?"
The rest of her family were reclined in camper chairs, eying the proceedings and occasionally taking a sip from their drinks. Martin and Lu were the only ones standing, and right beneath them sat Lu's portable gun rack. It could be rolled across a variety of surfaces thanks to two thick, fat rubber tires and a handle at the other end that you pulled it by.
Seven slots existed in the rack, each housing a different rifle. They were assembled in terms of difficulty level with beginners on the left and expert level on the right. Beside each rifle was a box of ammunition.
"Your pick, son," Lu said. "If you don't mind my asking, what'd they have you shoot with at basic training?"
She tensed up, a little blindsided by the question. Or rather, blindsided by Lucien's intent. Was he genuinely curious or was he trying to find holes in his military backstory?
To her immense relief, Joker didn't miss a beat. He also refused to dislodge his gaze from the weaponry below him.
"M-16's," was his cool response. "Though ah I learned to handle an... assortment by time I graduated."
He knelt and picked up the Remington 700 model whose stock was a rich cherrywood color.
First, he double checked the chamber. After confirming it was empty, he reached down to the box of ammunition and pulled out one of the bullets. Everyone watched as he expertly moved the bolt handle over and loaded the chamber. He repeated this motion until the chamber was full.
She was a little surprised he went for a middle-of-the-road rifle and not the expert-level, but kept it to herself. Maybe it was best not to show off just how good he was?
It seemed like everyone was simultaneously holding their breath as Joker positioned himself across the first sawhorse. He cracked his neck once, keeping the barrel pointed down. She risked a glimpse at Lu's face, unsure if finding it expressionless was a good or bad thing.
Joker adopted the appropriate rifle-holding pose; one eye creeping shut as he experimented with how to most comfortably hold the weapon. All conversation died and fingers immediately dove into ears as they waited for him to pull the trigger.
He didn't disappoint. With a truly impressive stillness, Joker shot the first 2-liter square through the center; forcing water to spew out everywhere. He quickly pulled back the bolt, causing the bullet casing to eject from the chamber with a wild fling. He rotated and pushed the next bullet into place and not shortly after, the second water-filled 2-liter met the same fate as the first.
Everyone watched with a collective awe as he placed four perfect shots into the remaining bottles. No one needed to view them up close to know he'd hit dead center each time.
Satisfied, Joker lowered the barrel, admiring his handiwork with a light smirk.
Studying him from a side-angle, she couldn't help but note just how... sexy he looked. White t-shirt clinging to his scrumptious biceps, gaze narrowed and focused, rifle clenched in a sturdy, solid grip.
Everyone removed their fingers from their ears. No one said anything for a few seconds.
"Beginner's luck!" Martin brushed off, grabbing another beer from the cooler sitting out. "Doubt you can get the soda cans that perfectly."
Joker's jaw clenched. He was trying his hardest not to grip the rifle any tighter than he already was. The tendons in his neck flexed uncontrollably.
To her surprise, he ended up inhaling deeply, closing his eyes, and then a couple seconds later, opening them.
"If you ah really believe that," he coaxed, "how about we make a game outta this?"
There was an undercurrent of impishness in his tone she couldn't help but pick up on. He was trying to rile Martin up into agreeing, which wasn't difficult to do considering how much alcohol was already in the man's system.
"Sounds great to me," Martin answered; hook, line and sinker. "What were you thinkin'?"
He approached Joker's side, eying the targets.
"Mm, for every can I put a hole through the middle of you drink."
"Deal!"
"All of you," Joker added, scars twitching.
A hushed murmur fell over everyone. The rest of her family seemed much less willing to take Joker up on this bet than Martin was.
"I have work in a few hours," Lauren blurted. "Sorry, I'm out."
Before this could be commented on, Rita spoke.
"Is water okay?" She rested a cupped hand on her stomach. "I've got a little one on the way and um, well, I'd hate to do anything to jeopardize his or her arrival."
Joker inclined his head a little in her direction.
Celine held her breath. Surely, he would accommodate her?
"Your husband... mmm Eli, right?" He waited for her to nod. "He ah drinks triple the amount. One for himself, one for you and uh one for the little tyke inside ya."
Marc snorted properly at this as Layla released an excited round of claps.
"Ooh!" she beamed. "This is going to be so much fun!"
Eli arched a brow, thumb tapping against his knee. His expression was closed off, which meant he wasn't quite sure how to process the current twist of events.
The fact that Joker didn't once turn to face him, leaving Eli to stare at his back, must've worked on some sort of psychological level.
"Fine," Eli accepted, popping open the cooler. "Let's see what you got."
Those whose beer bottles were empty were provided a new one. Eli had an extra one in his cup holder at the ready, just in case. Martin downed the rest of his and emitted a series of burps through the back of his hand.
The only person whose face showed a semblance of hesitancy was Lu. Upon noticing this, Celine cleared her throat and spoke up.
"Um, no one has to participate if they don't want to," she reminded. "Jack is..."
It was tempting to tell them the truth. They were on the road to alcohol poisoning by agreeing to play.
"-quite good," she finished lamely.
"Mm, thank you, Cece."
"There's no way in hell," Martin argued, "he hits all eight cans through the center. Not from this distance. Not without a scope. And not with that Remington. Military veteran or not, the focus and steadiness you gotta have takes decades to master."
Joker's shrug was nonchalant.
"Only one way to find out."
"Hey." He clapped a hand down on Joker's shoulder. "You hit each can through the middle, in the same spot, consider that my blessing for you and Cece. Hell, I'll walk her down the aisle myself on your wedding day."
Her eyes widened, both in shock and embarrassment. Joker too was juggling a handful of emotions. Mainly disdain at having a hand on him, and confusion that talk of a wedding was already being encouraged.
"Jesus dad," Layla remarked, "stop making Jack and Celine uncomfortable."
"Pfft," Marc followed up. "Like either of them are the marrying type."
Both Celine and Joker abruptly turned in his direction. Whether Marc was joking or not, remained to be seen, as he quickly clammed up beneath their gazes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Vivian asked for them, cocking her head in Marc's direction. "I think Celine would make a beautiful bride. And Jack a handsome groom."
This jumpstarted an animated conversation amongst everyone seated as Rocket and Archer watched on from the grass.
She met Joker's gaze, who may or may not have resembled a deer in the headlights.
"SORRY," she mouthed to him.
Martin had thankfully removed his hand and merged with the group, presently arguing with both Layla and her husband about who was best suited to walk Celine down the aisle.
Joker didn't respond verbally. Instead, he knelt and started loading the chamber. Only she and Lucien were watching. She was surprised to see a beer in his hand. Perhaps Joker's competitive nature had gotten to him too?
Joker situated himself across the second sawhorse. He aimed, waited a couple seconds, then fired.
Everyone instantly went silent.
"That's one," he stated, rolling his shoulders back.
From this distance it certainly appeared like he'd struck through the center of the can, but Martin wasn't as easily convinced.
"We need to make sure." He turned to Lauren. "Laur, would you go stand down there and make sure he's hitting on target?"
She stiffened up, throwing a cautious glance at Joker's back.
Celine recognized that look. It was as if she were in the basement all over again, everyone meeting Joker for the first time.
Whether she suspects who he is or not, she certainly doesn't trust him.
"I'll do it," she piped in.
"No, no, no. Unfair advantage. We need someone impartial."
Celine crossed her arms.
"Name one instance in all the summers of doing this where I haven't been."
Martin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"Believe me," she continued. "When Jack screws up, I'm the first one to tell him. He probably wishes I wasn't, but I am. There is no partiality here, I will call it like I see it."
Her Uncle had a weakness for starting arguments he didn't have a chance of winning. This being a prime example.
"She's right," Joker added, piercing her with a heated look. "She uh doesn't let me get away with much. I... trust her judgment over anyone else's here."
She offered him a small smile, ignoring the two "awws" that sounded from her sitting relatives.
"It's settled then," Lu interjected before Martin could worm his way into trouble again. "Celine will judge."
Layla gave her a round of applause.
"Hurray, Cece!"
Marc, Vivian, Nelson, and Rita joined in.
She grinned at their antics. Maybe getting them a little drunker would be good for the overall atmosphere. Dispel any lingering doubt and uncertainty they might be harboring toward Joker.
"Um, I'll give a thumbs up if it's good. Thumbs down if it's off, even a little."
Everyone seemed to agree to this.
Just as she was passing by, Joker snaked an arm around her back and tugged her into him. He kissed her before she could speak.
It was chaste at first, but upon feeling his tongue poke at her bottom lip, she parted her mouth on command. She flushed from head to toe when Joker chose to French her; tongue licking the entire length of her own and swirling around twice before pulling away.
The back of her hand covered her mouth, preventing any excess spit from dribbling out. Whereas he was the picture of satisfaction, she was just given her second helping of embarrassment in the span of five minutes.
"Get a room!" Marc called.
A chorus of laughter only further darkened the red in her cheeks.
"Ass," she whispered. "Why?"
His smirk made her feel weightless.
"Mm, practice," he told her. "For uh the day of our... nuptials."
He then threw her a wink that made her want to tackle him to the ground. And... maybe rip his clothes off.
Pull yourself together, woman. What he's doing is... a tactic, I think. He's used to having control in any situation. Right now, he's a fish out of water. Embarrassing me is a way of... regaining some of that control. So is holding the rifle... I wonder if I ask nicely, he'll hold me like th-.
Shaking her head, she willed the rest of that thought away and hustled over to the sawhorse.
Upon reaching the fixture and examining the first can, she smiled, turned, and threw her family a thumb's up.
"You heard the lady!" Martin exclaimed. "Bottom's up!"
Everyone knocked back their beers once, except Eli, who did so three times.
Celine backed away from the sawhorse so Joker could prepare for the next shot.
Oddly enough, she wasn't as nervous as she should have been, standing where she was, knowing Joker was armed. She suspected the reassurance rested in having her family there. He so much as tried to take aim at her and they'd in all likelihood make sure he didn't leave the outing alive.
That would be a really fucked turn of events. Local family kills boyfriend after he kills girlfriend. More details to come, but first the weather.
Plugging her ears, she waited. Not ten seconds later and the second shot rang out.
When the soda can finally stopped swaying, she went to study it.
Both brows rose as she eyed the first and second can side-by-side.
"Wow."
The holes were dead center, in the exact same spot. Not even a millimeter off.
God, they are so screwed.
She turned and lifted her thumb.
Joker spared her family no mercy as he emptied five more shots, each striking the center of the cans perfectly and in uniform with one another. By the time she gave a thumbs up for the seventh can, she thought she could faintly hear a few groans ring out.
Unsurprisingly, the final can met the same fate as the seven before it. When she gave the thumbs up, everyone drank with a mildly queasy look on their faces. Martin tossed his empty bottle into the bin and jogged his way over to her.
"I gotta see this for myself!" was his emphatic explanation.
He squinted a little as he held each can up to his face. He then grumbled something unintelligible, as if hoping his eye sight was deceiving him.
"Well," he stated, releasing the last can and turning around with a hand cupped around his mouth. "Looks like you can take the man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the man!"
She couldn't help but smile and glance Joker's way. Through his stance alone, she could tell he was proud of himself. Martin's reluctant praise was only cherry atop the cake.
"Man knows how to shoot," Martin told her before they rejoined the family. "Not that you need it, but good. We like knowing he can watch out for ya."
"I-." She searched for the appropriate words. "-guess I like knowing that too."
He patted her shoulder a couple of times before making his way back to the group. She lingered at the sawhorse for a few seconds extra, contemplating her response.
All too often, Joker's victims were innocent civilians. And because of this, she'd never been able to truly appreciate how talented of a marksman he was.
But in light of Martin's remark, she realized she'd gained a whole new appreciation for his technicality and precision. And it did make her feel good, safe. That should a moment arrive where their lives were in danger, he had the means to protect them both. Now whether he would was another story, but that sense of security was more important to have than she realized.
Maybe it's a primal thing. Rooted from when we were still hunter-gatherers, choosing our partner based on how well they could defend against predators.
When the muscles in her groin clenched up, she shook her head. The last thing he needed to be aware of was how much his accuracy had turned her on.
She scampered back to her family only when the heat was fully out of her cheeks.
Shout out to Tumblr user eggreturns who sketched some awesome fanart for this story. It never fails to amaze me that people think about MIFIRA even after they've exited out of a chapter. Many, many thanks for taking the time out of your day to do so, it really warmed my heart.
I'm also thankful for the patience and kindness you all continue to exhibit. I worry that I overshare way too much in regards to personal life. But reading your thoughtful and encouraging comments helps curb that worry. You all fuel me in such a profoundly beautiful way, I'm never not grateful to have you all as readers.
Let's see if Joker continues to impress. And by impress I mean help skyrocket everyone's intoxication level.