Title: Not Another Cliche Love Story! Part Six

Fandom: X-Men movieverse

Characters: ensemble

Rating: PG-13

Summary: AU, Ryro. Probably will be funny, not angsty and most likely a little cliche.

Author's Notes: Parts will probably be very short.

Marie froze,

"What?"

"Your father had a stroke," Mrs. D'Ancanto repeated, "He's stable now and the doctor says he's going to be fine. It's his blood pressure, they said, so he'll have to lay off certain foods, alcohol and such."

"He's going to hate that."

"I know. He'll just have to deal with it, though. So close to Thanksgiving too."

"Yeah."

"Are you still coming down?"

"Of course."

"Oh, I just had the greatest idea!," her mom squealed.

"What's that?" Marie asked, not really wanting to know. Her mom's great ideas were never good.

"You should bring your boyfriend with you for Thanksgiving. It'll be the perfect chance for us to meet him. We'll pay for him to come, if it's a problem. He can stay in the spare bedroom."

"Mom, I can't..." Typical, Marie thought.

"Well, why not? I highly doubt he's planning on visiting his parents. Young people these days. Besides, at this rate we'll never see you settled down and who knows how much longer we have anyways? Especially your father. Don't you think he'd like to meet the man you're seeing? Honestly, Marie. Are you embarrassed of us?"

"No, Mom."

"Are you embarrassed of him?"

"No."

"Then I don't see why you can't bring him to dinner. I won't take no for an answer, Marie. "

"I'll ask him. That's all I'm promising though."

"Fine, dear. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, mom. Keep me updated about Dad."

John rang the service bell, as was tradition, and, when no 'Just a second' came from the back, he looked around. Where was she?

"Hey." Marie greeted him, stepping out from the back room and making him jump.

"Oh, hello. I was just looking for you."

"I had to get something from the back."

"So, what are we having for lunch today?"

"Oh, god! I completely forgot to grab it."

"Looks like a pie day, then."

She didn't answer, busily restocking one of the donut containers.

"Marie, is everything okay?"

"No, not really. When I got home last night my mom called. My dad had a stroke. He's okay now, he just has to cut down on certain foods but then my mom kinda guilt-tripped me into doing something that I feel awkward doing."

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah."

She grabbed a couple slices of apple pie and they took seats at their usual table. Normally, she would've basked a little in the fact that they had a usual table but, needless to say, today she was a tad bit preoccupied.

"So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Okay, let me get this straight: Your mother, upon hearing that we had a date, insisted that you invite me over for Thanksgiving."

"In Mississippi."

"Right. In Mississippi. You know, I've never been to Mississippi."

"I only told her I'd ask. If you've got other plans, it's okay. You're probably going to see your parents."

"Nope, no other plans. Actually, I haven't spoken to my parents for a little while."

"Oh. Okay. But you should know my family... Well, I'll give you a crash-course in surviving a D'Ancanto Family Dinner. Hopefully that'll be enough."

"Oookay."

"Right. I have to get back to work but, " she scribbled her adress on his receipt, "Come here tonight at 6 and I'll give you that crash course."

"Alright," John barely had time to respond before she'd shoved the paper at him and left, "I'll see you then."

He shook his head.

Marie hurried into her apartment. It was 5:30 and she really needed to clean up, not to mention make dinner. John was going to be here in less then a half an hour and she was in full-out-panic mode. She rushed in, hanging up her coat and grabbing random things that had accumulated around the living room, shoving them into the hall closet. She walked into the kitchen and begun to pull out ingredients. She'd sat the chicken out that morning, although the crash course idea hadn't been planned, and was glad to see it was completely thawed. Time to start the somewhat famous BBQ chicken, which had only made someone sick once and was not her fault. She was also making broccoli with cheese sauce and baked potatoes. She was hungry already.

When the doorbell rang, the chicken was in the oven, broccoli was on the stove and the potatoes were... well, just sitting there.

"Come in." She called, cranking the heat up on the broccoli's burner.

John obliged, stepping in the door and looking around.

"Something smells good."

"Thanks," she replied as he walked into the kitchen, "How do you like your baked potato?"

"Cooked."

"Ha-ha. For that, you get to make it yourself."

"Oh, the horror." He rolled his eyes.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, until the timer for the chicken went off. Marie pulled it out and poured a little more BBQ sauce on top before setting it in the center of the dining room table, on a heating pad. She covered it to keep it warm while she made her baked potato and finished the broccoli. John washed his hands then made his way into the dining room to wait.

About three minutes later, they were both seared at the table, serving themselves. Marie spoke first,

"So, ready for your training?"

"Sure."

"Okay. First, a basic overview of what to expect. My mom will try to be your best friend, my dad will ignore you 'til the dinner, get drunk before hand and then question you mercilessly. My sister's fiance will try to 'censure' my dad and that's just before dessert. My mom and dad will fight viciously. That'll be one night you don't want to be in my house, trust me."

"They fight all night long?"

"Oh, no. It's not the fighting, it's the making up. That's why I love hotel rooms."

"Ookay."

"My best advice is to talk as little as possible during dinner."

"I can do that."

"You're not going to make it."

End Part 6.