Mitch sat across from Cam at the Dunphy's dinner table, the makings of a massive salad spread before them.

"So... Phil's brother, huh," Cam said as he tore at a head of lettuce, "Who saw that one coming? I mean, other than you because apparently you've been keeping your brother-in-law's gorgeous brother a secret."

Claire set down a couple bottles of olive oil and vinegar before taking the seat next to her brother. "Really? You think Arthur's..." she made a vague hand gesture and frowned.

Both Cam and Mitch looked at her a bit perplexed before Mitch nodded slowly, "Yeah, we think he's a bit..." before mimicking her odd flailing gesture. He picked up a knife and began cutting up carrots before continuing, "And don't act all surprised. I mean, you're the one who married his brother so you it's not like you're opposed to his look genetically or anything."

Claire narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "But you've met Arthur before and I don't remember you going all doe-eyed for him back then."

Mitch sat up straight, lifted his chin, and shrugged in one fluid motion. "I didn't mention anything because, y'know. We might've had a bit of a history."

Claire and Cam looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"There's no way you had a thing with my husband's brother without my knowing about it."

"Contrary to your personal belief, you're not all-knowing Claire." Mitch smiled at her, smug, "Arthur and I both happened to be visiting our respective siblings and there was a party and it was college and we might have..." he trailed off with a demure little shrug and smiled at the carrots.

Cam stared, mouth hanging slightly open as Claire leaned towards Mitch, hissing out a quiet, "you did not sleep with Arthur."

Her brother frowned in confusion and scooted his chair away from her. "What? No, we just made out a little."

Cam smirked and resumed his lettuce work, "Well, that certainly makes more sense."

"And what does that mean?"

"It's just that you don't really seem his type. I mean, take a look at that Eames, it's obvious that Arthur prefers a little meat on his bones."

"Ohhh, okay we're doing this again," Mitch rolled his eyes and looked at Claire, "who do you think Arthur would rather sleep with: me or Mr-Meat-On-His-Bones-Cam? Which, by the way," he turned back to his boyfriend with a raised finger, "I'm pretty sure the 'm'-word you were looking for was 'muscle' not 'meat'."

Cam gasped, a scandalized look on his face, "Excuse me? Do I have to remind you that I was starting center for the Fighting Illini? That's an NCAA Division I-A team. So yes, Claire, drunken make-outs aside," he looked pointedly at Mitch, "do you think Arthur would rather have a sunburnt lawyer or someone with a college football player's physique?"

"Nope, nope, nope," Claire shook her head and started shredding parsley leaves, "I know how this ends so I am going to..." she pinched her thumb and index finger together, sliding them across her lips in a zipping motion before miming throwing away an invisible key.

There was a low chuckle and the three turned to find Eames standing at the open back door with a small cooler in hand and an amused grin on his face. "If I might provide a bit of insight," he stepped inside and made a show of appraising first Cam and then Mitch, "our darling Arthur has historically shown a preference for more, shall we say, solid men, but he's also been known to sink to deplorable depths for someone with a good bit of scruff." There was only a brief moment of silence in which a bright red flush of embarrassment made its way up the faces of the Dunphy-Tucker-Pritchetts at the table before the sound of Phil and Arthur's laughter drifted in from the backyard. Eames glanced outside before shutting the door behind him with a shrug, sighing, "But then, what would I know? Tossed aside in favor of barbecue sauce and grilling techniques, can you believe?"

There was another moment of silence until Cam spoke up and said, "In case it helps with the sting of neglect, I just want you to know that the only reason we weren't discussing you is because, well," he arched his brows, "there are children present."

Claire and Eames broke out laughing as Mitch spluttered a horrified, "OH my god, Cameron. Really?"

Cam shrugged and started throwing the bits of salad into a large bowl, "Tell me I'm wrong, Mitchell."

"The kids aren't even here," Claire added helpfully, "I sent them off to pick up Manny and the rest of the groceries like cheese and soda."

"Lily's still running around," Cam pointed out.

Eames, in an attempt to diffuse the miasma of embarrassment hanging over Mitch, set the mini icebox in his hand on the table and pulled out several beers and wine coolers.

Claire gestured for Eames to take a seat before reaching for a beer thankfully. She took a swig and then peered at the label, "this isn't what we usually buy, but I think we might have to start."

"Ah, no," Eames passed a beer over to Cam, "This would be my contribution for the day's festivities."

Claire side-eyed him knowingly, "This one of those stereotypical 'I'm British so I'm too good for your American swill' things, isn't it?"

Mitch twisted the cap off of his wine cooler and looked at Eames apologetically, "I swear, despite all evidence to the contrary, some Americans do possess the ability to keep their obnoxious attempts at mimicking accents to themselves."

"I don't remember you saying that when we were watching Bridget Jones's Diary last week," Cam muttered happily.

Eames ignored Mitch's indignant retort and turned his attention back to Claire and the beer in their hands, "While I won't argue that we may have a bit of pride in our pint, this," he tapped his bottle against the hard plastic of the cooler, "is actually an exhibition of Arthur's preference for microbrews."

"Arthur."

"Mmmhm," Eames hummed in agreement.

"I mean, Arthur? It's just..." He watched as Claire opened her mouth, shut it, propped her chin on her hand, and tried again, "why are you even with him? I don't mean..." she took a long pull from her bottle and waved a hand at Eames' face, "you're just so nice and charismatic and friendly."

Eames let out a soft laugh, "Arthur is all of those things if you remember to look through glasses tinted with a bit of overprotection." He absently ran his thumb nail down the beer's paper label soaked with condensation, "But I guess that might be a bit difficult to see around his buttoned up exterior and overwhelming need for preparedness."

Cam snorted, "Are you sure you're not describing Claire?"

Mitch's mouth hung open and his eyes widened as a thought clicked into place, "Phil and Arthur married eachother!"

"What?" Claire stared at her brother in confusion.

"No, no, hold on I've got it," Mitch made a rolling motion with his hands as a grin stretched across his face, "Phil's got that warm approachable personality like Eames while Arthur gives off that cold air of 'control freak' like Claire, except more attractively."

"Wow, thanks," Claire groused as Cam nodded in agreement.

"That might actually make sense," Eames thought aloud, "in an oversimplified Freudian sort of way."

Claire stubbornly shook her head, "I don't see it."

"You don't want to see it because you don't like Arthur," Eames quickly put his hand up before Claire could interrupt, "understandable so. You're in-laws with protective streaks and Arthur can be terrifying, I know. But he's also lovely and clever and deserving of a second chance." As an afterthought he added with a wink, "Not to mention devastatingly attractive."

Before Claire could decide whether she was flattered or still opposed to the comparison, the front door opened and a booming voice said, "We're only staying for an hour so don't let Gloria get too comfortable."

It was followed by an accented, "Why you don't want to spend more time with your family, Jay? It's almost Thanksgiving that's disrespectful."

"Exactly! It's almost Thanksgiving. I don't need to spend time eating with my family the days before a holiday where the whole point is to eat with your family. In fact," a large white man entered the room with a curvy Latina woman with gift bags in her hand frowning at his side, "I think that eating with family before Thanksgiving just lessens the impact. So how about this, Gloria, we start a new tradition where we're not allowed to spend any time with family the week leading up to Thanksgiving. You know, to show proper respect for the holiday."

Gloria looked up at her husband, unimpressed, "Yeah, Jay, let's start today. And since we," she waved a finger between them, " are family, I will stay in the house and you will stay not in the house." She turned around, smug, and smiled at the group now standing around the salad table. Gloria gave a round of hugs to her family in greeting before holding a manicured hand out to Eames, "I think we have not met? I'm Gloria and this is my husband, Jay."

Eames brushed a kiss against her knuckles and nodded politely at the man behind her, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Eames and I'm here with Phil's brother, Arthur, who's currently working the grill with said brother."

Jay let out a heavy sigh, "Oh Christ, I better get out there before they destroy the food."

The back door slid open before Jay could reach it and everyone turned to look as Arthur stepped inside. Arthur gave the occupants of the room a cursory glance before zeroing on Eames.

He noted the tightness around Arthur's eyes, the stiff shoulders, and pursed lips. "Arthur?"

"My totem."

Eames instinctively pulled out his own, fingers running over familiar grooves and etchings. Not a dream.

Claire cleared her throat, "Um?"

Eames flashed everyone a reassuring smile, "Nothing to worry yourselves over, it seems that Arthur's misplaced an important personal... keepsake. We'll just have a bit of a look around, if you don't mind?" He walked forward and stood by Arthur, placing a steady hand against the base of his spine.

Arthur turned his head the slightest bit towards Eames before murmuring a barely audible, "It was in my pocket and now it's not." His eyes flicked around the room as he mentally went through every step of his day.

He tried not to think about the fact that this was the worst setting. Arthur rarely ever visited his family and now he was suddenly surrounded by half-strangers with the L.A. sun shining at his back after months of London gray and-

Eames knew it would be all too easy for Arthur to rationalize everything into a dream. Especially when the shitstorm of Mal and Dom was still fresh. Would probably always be too fresh.

"Ohhhh no, LILY!" Eames and Arthur both snapped their attention to Mitch, who was looking accusingly at Cam. "I told you it was going to cause issues."

Cam pouted, "we don't even know if Lily's the one who took it."

"Just like we didn't know if Lily was the one biting other children? It's always Lily. When is it not Lily?"

Arthur and Eames stood, confused, as the Dunphy and Pritchetts gave each other a bored look lacking any surprise.

Gloria put a hand on her hip and tapped a finger against her temple, "I am the one who will handle this." She handed Arthur one of her gift bags and let out a surprisingly loud, "LILYYY LOOK WHO HAS A NEW DRESS FOR YOU."

There was a giggle and flash of color as Lily jumped out from where she had apparently been hiding behind the couch, "You found me!" She smiled and waved her hands, red die clutched in one fist.

Arthur was immediately in motion, kneeling down in front of the little girl. "Hey there, you wanna trade?"

She looked suspiciously from the die to the gift bag being held before her. Lips pursed she nodded her head confidently, "Okay," and dropped the die into Arthur's open palm.

Arthur stood up and Cam scooped Lily off the floor as he apologized. "We are so sorry. She's just gotten into this habit of stealing things and we don't know where it's coming from."

Claire shot a side-long glance at Gloria and muttered under her breath, "Maybe it's because people give her new dresses as a reward for returning things." Gloria hadn't heard her, but Mitch still elbowed his sister in her side.

"It's perfectly fine," Eames said as Arthur quietly checked his die on the dinner table, "but she's certainly a clever little one to have pulled one over on Arthur."

Arthur scowled at him, but the tension had visibly left from his shoulders. They'd still have to talk it over, make sure both their feet were firmly planted in reality, but for now: crisis averted.

"You guys into gambling?" Jay asked, pointedly looking from Arthur's die to the poker chip still squeezed between Eames' knuckles.

Arthur let out a little cough as he composed himself, "Not recently."

"Well," Jay threw an arm around his wife, "Gloria and I were just talking about how much we love having family over, especially right before Thanksgiving, so why don't you come over for Poker Night tomorrow?"

Gloria rolled her eyes, punched Jay's arm, and then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Arthur looked a bit perplexed by the exchange, but didn't have a chance to reply before the back door slid open once more and Phil stuck his head in, "Hey, have any of you seen my sunglasses? I swear I had them on me a second ago."

Cam threw his hands in the air in exasperation before shrieking, "LILY!"

"Check the back of your pants," Arthur and Claire said in unison.

"That's right!" Phil reached behind him and pulled out his sunglasses, "Like I always say: belt loops aren't only for belts. Thanks for the reminder, brother. And wife. Haha. Brother-wife. Browife. Brife." Phil laughed to himself and went back outside with Jay and Gloria close behind.

Claire vacantly stared at after them and quietly said in horror, "Phil married me because I'm Arthur. I'm his brother-wife."

Arthur looked from Claire to Eames before rubbing a hand over his face. "This fucking family."