Title: Not Another Cliche Love Story! Part 7.
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 knocked on the door of her parents' home. It was friday, the day before thanksgiving, and they'd just arrived. She was dreading this but John didn't seem nervous at all. He just stood there, right behind her, hands in his pocket and humming. For Gods' Sake's, he was humming. Well, at the very least, Thanksgiving dinner would be amusing. Afterwards, she'd probably never see John again but at least it'd be amusing.
Mrs. D'Ancanto opened the door, beaming when she saw her daughter.
"Marie! Oh, it's soo good to see you," Her mother hugged her and then, in typical Mom fashion, held her out at arms length, "You look thin. Have you been eating?"
At the last remark, John chuckled, remembering all the times she'd said she wasn't hungry and unintentionally drawing the older woman's attention to himself.
"Oh, my. I completely forgot about you bringing your friend, Marie. You must be... You know, I don't think you told me his name, sweets."
"John. My name's John." He smiled at her, resting his hand lightly on the small of her daughter's back.
"Well, John, it's nice to meet you. Come on, now. No need to stand outside and talk. Come in, come in."
Mrs. D'Ancanto turned and headed in. Before following, Marie turned back to him and mouthed I'm sorry. He merely chuckled again and, after picking up his suitcase, took hers from her.
'Well, this is our home. I'm sure Marie will give you the full tour later but for now, how about you get settled. Darling, show him where the guest bedroom is. You two unpack and then we'll have lunch. Get to know each other a bit more, hmmm?" Not waiting for an answer, Mrs. D'Ancanto turned and bustled into another room.
Marie grabbed her bag back from him and, hurrying so he couldn't take it back again, headed down the hallway.
"Come on, John. The sooner you unpack the sooner you can 'get to know' my mom."
He followed her, choosing not to point out the --potential pervertedness of that statement
"This," she pointed to the last door on the left, "is your room. And if you need anything, and by anything I don't mean any late night 'booty-calls', my room is right next to yours. Let me know when you're done unpacking."
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John leaned against the doorway of Marie's room, watching her dig through her suitcase for something.
"So, your mom mentioned a grand tour?"
"Yeah, just a second. Come in here and close the door."
He obliged, "What are you looking for?"
"I'm not looking for anything. I'm just replenishing my secret junkfood stash. Trust me, we'll need it."
"Secret stash?" He raised an eyebrow.
She stuck her head under bed, coming out a second later with what was either a mini-crowbar or a bent flat-head screwdriver.
"Yes. You see, every year around Thanksgiving my mom goes on a health food kick. It usually ends shortly before Christmas. This year, though, it'll probably be even worse because of the stroke. And every year, I survive by my secret junk food stash, since I was old enough to go to the store by myself." She used the mini-crowbar/bent-screwdriver thing to pry up a floorboard and emptied a small grocery store bag into the small bow-like crevice beneath. Candy bards and other junk food staples spilled out and she swiftly packed them into the space before lowering the board.
"Interesting."
"You'll be thankful for it by the time the weekend's over, trust me. Now, how about that grand tour." She stood to leave but as soon as she'd reached the doorway, she turned back to him, "Oh, by the way, you're sworn to secrecy about that, okay?"
He nodded, feigning seriousness.
She turned, leading him back into the living room.
"Okay, The Grand Tour. This is the living room. That is the kitchen/dining room," She pointed through a lare picture window, and that way are the bedrooms and bathroom. My sister and her fiance and their kid will be here sometime tonight. My younger brother lives here, he's 17, but god knows where he is." She rolled her eyes.
"Who's up for lunch?" Her mother poked her head through the picture window that visually connected the living room and the kitchen.
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Marie's sister arrived at around seven. They knew they were there before they even knocked, the couple was arguing so loud.
Fake smile securely in place, Marie's mother, Sarah, rose to answer the door. Don, Marie's father, exclaimed check from the other side of the room where he and Marie were playing chess.
A woman, who looked a lot like Marie except that she was heavily pregnant, struggled into the living room carrying a suitcase and a toddler. A man, who looked stressed-out, pale and sweaty, followed her, carrying two suitcases and a smaller bag under his arm. As soon as they got into the living room, the man dropped the bags and practically collapsed into a chair. John distinctly heard Mr. D'Ancanto mutter something about a wimp under his breath. Marie stood and turned, holding her arms out to the little girl still in her mother's arms, who stopped sucking her thumb when she saw Marie.
"Hey, sugar. How's my little marshmallow doing?"
The toddler practically jumped at Marie, shouting excitedly.
"Awuntie 'Rie!"
Marie plopped down on the couch next to John, the little girl on her lap.
"Marshmallow, this is my friend, John. Can you say hi to him? John, this is our little 'Lizabeth." Elizabeth waved slightly at John before sticking her thumb back in her mouth and her face in Marie's neck.
"Aww, marshmallow's tired."
John nudged Marie with his elbow,
"So, who's who?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. The woman is my sister, Julianne, and the man is her fiance, Peter. Elixabeth and the unborn baby are his. It's a funny story actually. The first time she got pregnant was just after they got engaged and she wanted to wait until after the baby was born so she owuldn't be fat. After this one was born, they atrted planning the wedding again and then, about 2 monthes before it she found out she was pregnant again. They've been engaged for about three years now."
"Wow."
"Yeah, wait 'til you meet my brother."
The conversation lulled as the sleeping girl let out a snore.
End Part 7.