AN: A funny, fluffy "morning after" scenario.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I own nothing

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After a long night of fitful sleeping, Red woke up earlier than everyone else and prepared an enormous, lavish breakfast. Cooking, much like assembling puzzles or machines, is a methodical process in which he finds a measure of comfort, when given the luxury of time.

If only it could provide reassurance as well.

Denny was the first to emerge and join him in the kitchen, wearing a long-sleeved red onesie that he topped off with a genuine coonskin cap. Red howled with laughter at the sight, but Denny's face remained impassive. His get-up wasn't exactly unprecedented, but it had been at least twenty years since Red had last seen it.

And in this, he did find reassurance. Some things never change.

Denny grabbed a plate and piled it high with scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, biscuits, and gravy. With that accomplished, he sat at the table and picked up two forks at once. "Lock 'n load," he grunted with conviction, finally looking up at Red.

"I cannot believe you still have that ridiculous hat."

He dropped one fork, grabbed the decanter of freshly-squeezed orange juice from the center of the table, and poured himself a glass. After taking a huge gulp, he set it down and looked up at Red again. "Aha! I know what this is about. You're jealous because Shirley's cat made love to yours back in Omaha. Eh, you know, I don't blame you. I would have thrown it away too. Maybe I'll buy you a new one."

Actually, Shirley's cat had fallen in love with his own hat, not Red's, but Red kept that thought to himself and replied, "Believe me, I'm not jealous. I probably have more hats than you do."

Through a full mouth came his garbled reply, "Don't worry, Raymond. If you don't want to admit it, I won't push you."

Uh huh.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"Like there was a marathon of Hilary Clinton speeches playing in the background."

For Denny, that translated to an emphatic 'yes', and that meant that he'd slept through their love-making.

"So, is Shirley up yet?"

"Got up before I did, but she doesn't like piddling around in her nightgown. She's getting dressed."

"Oh... That's too bad." He then turned on his heel, heading towards the hallway.

"You'd better not be going to our room to peek!"

Red paused and turned around. "Oh, I'd NEVER." He meant it, but he also held his teasing tone as if suggesting otherwise. Immediately, he gave himself a mental kick. Now was NOT the time to toy with Denny.

Old habits might die hard, for some. For Red, they live forever.

In his own room, he found Lizzie in only a matching bra and panties set, sifting through her wardrobe and trying to decide what to wear. These panties were among his favorites. Sitting low on her hips and intentionally small in rear coverage, they left a couple inches of her perfect buttcheeks exposed at the bottom. After hastily closing the door behind him, Red forgot why he'd entered in the first place. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed a line from her bra strap to her earlobe, where he hummed a greeting. "Good morning." He lowered one hand just enough to tug on the elastic waistband of her panties and let it go with a gentle snap. "Have I ever told you how much I like these?"

"Mmm... only a time or ten." Anticipating his next move, she turned her head to allow him to capture her lips. "So, what was so funny?"

He had no idea what she was talking about. "Huh?"

"Just a couple minutes ago, your laughter woke me up."

Red shifted and kissed along the same trajectory on the opposite side of her neck. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. It's just Denny. His sleepwear is a little, ah, antiquated. You'll see."

"Nothing too revealing, I hope."

He chuckled. "No, it shouldn't spoil your appetite."

"I smell a story coming on."

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint, SO... almost a lifetime ago, Shirley's parents invited us to Thanksgiving dinner at their home just outside of Omaha. Denny has this motto: Never, EVER say 'no' to a roadtrip."

"Ah, the days before your private jets."

How he loved those little wry smiles.

"Shirley was smart enough to fly down ahead of us, so naturally, we took advantage of the situation."

"Uh oh..."

"We stopped at every weird, creepy sign that we saw along the way. In Mahaska, we found a reststop that was also a tackle shop and furniture store. You can take a piss, buy a fishing pole, AND buy a coffee table to kick up your feet while you go fishing. Can you imagine? Talk about one-stop shopping! Superb."

She groaned. "You're right. Shirley made a smart decision."

"We bought matching coonskin caps. The next day, somewhere in between the turkey and the pumpkin pie, we found Shirley's cat getting it on with Denny's hat in the coat closet."

"You. He. What? I don't even..."

Picture perfect and nonplussed, his love.

"Shocking, isn't it? I would have expected that from Denny's cat. Usually, he's the one getting caught with his pants down in coat closets."

She probably didn't need to hear that.

He shrugged and added, "It's just a fetish."

Or that.

"He's USUALLY the one?"

"Gotta strike when the iron's hot. Those closets can be surprisingly spacious."

It wasn't her favorite spur-of-the-moment, idiomatic double entendre, but it was still a pretty good one.

"How does that relate to Denny's pajamas?"

"Vaguely, but he IS wearing the hat."

"Huh... I'm thankful that your sense of style has evolved since then."

"It hasn't, but when we empty our buckets, we like to dress up for the occasion."

Liz could only guess what that was supposed to mean.

Sensing that his presence was no longer wanted, he said, "I'll let you finish getting dressed, and when you come out, you'll find both your breakfast and coffee awaiting you at the table. Sound good?"

She reached back to give his thigh a quick squeeze. "Yes, thank you."

When he returned to the kitchen, Denny was already on his second plate, and Shirley was seated beside him. Red gave her a polite peck on the cheek as he passed. "Good morning, Shirley. Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Raymond. This is quite a breakfast spread. I can't believe you made both whole scrambled eggs AND scrambled egg whites. You're spoiling us."

He winked. "That's the idea."

"And I slept well enough, thank you. Probably not as well as Denny..." While Red busied himself with fixing Lizzie's plate, she looked over her shoulder to shoot him an accusatory smirk, and then added, "Of course, on a farm, one expects to hear the barnyard animals at night."

"Oh, yes... that's right. I keep forgetting that you grew up in the country, so you know how it is with those animals - always rolling in the hay... calling out to each other from across the paddock... eating absolutely everything in sight..."

Seizing all opportunities to reference oral sex - count that among Red's undying habits.

Denny jumped in. "It's a good thing you don't have any chickens."

"Oh?" Red asked, pleased that the innuendo had apparently flown over his friend's head, just as he had expected.

"It's the cocks! Always crowing, doin' that 'cock-a-doodle-dooo'. You know, they don't just do it at sunrise. That's a popular misconception. They don't even care what time it is. They do it all. the. time!"

Hm. Perhaps he'd misread the situation.

In a very serious, lowered voice, Denny added, "But that's nothing compared to the sheep. Don't even get me started on sheep!"

Red thought back to the dude ranch incident. Oh crap.

"Good morning, all." Liz walked in, all smiles and perfectly-sated sunshine, metaphorically stealing the shovel from his hands before he could dig himself in any further. She intentionally took a slightly-longer path to her seat, squeezing both Shirley and Denny's shoulders as she passed. "This looks great!" She shot a quick smile to Red, currently fixing his own plate, as she sat down across from their guests.

After Red took his seat beside her, she asked, "So, we don't really have any particular agenda for the week, do we?"

"Nothing set in stone, but we have some options."

"Such as?" Denny asked.

"Well, we've got a few Civil War battlefields, and there's that vineyard we've been talking about, Veritas."

Liz interjected, "Oh, I know!" All eyes turned to her. "Your yacht, Red."

Shirley's face lit up. "I love sailing!"

"I can't believe we didn't think of it sooner." She shook her head.

Red could. He had a reason for not bringing it up. "Don't you think it's still a little too cold for that? With the wind and all..."

"No, it'll be fine. I'm not suggesting that we go swimming. Come on! We haven't been out to Lake Anna in forever!"

Denny's breath hitched, and he froze mid-chew.

Yep, there it was - the reason. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.

"Yeah, but you know, it isn't exactly the classiest body of water." The excuse was weak as hell, but he said it with the utmost conviction and aplomb, lending to his argument a sense of validity that it didn't have.

Unswayed, her reply was flat. "That never bothered you before."

His heart seized at the secretly-poignant situation. She didn't even know her own name.

"And it still doesn't, but our guests deserve better scenery. What about Chesapeake Bay?"

"Yeah, okay..." Liz started to cave. "I guess we usually just pick Lake Anna because the bay is so full of jellyfish. No reason to worry about that if we aren't swimming though. Makes sense, except... you aren't moored on the bay."

"I've got a trailer. We can move it." A total pain in the ass, but doable. Would it be wrong to pray for rain?

"Either would be fine with us, really," Shirley said, sounding almost apologetic. "Or neither, even."

At that, they let it go.

An unhappy thought suddenly hit Liz. "Say, do you remember how long ago that tornado touched down nearby? With the flash flood and that crazy wind?"

"Tornados? Around here? With all these hills and trees?" Shirley was genuinely surprised.

"They seldom do more than touch down and disappear, but we still get tornado watches and warnings with almost every bad storm."

Red's brow furrowed in concentration. "Which one? We've had several in the last year, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh..." Liz's shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment.

The trio eyed her curiously, none successful in following her train of thought.

"I haven't taken that trail all the way to the river in awhile, and I can't remember if that was before or after the last storm. It could be impassable, for all I know."

"I believe it's pronounced imPOSSible'," Denny corrected.

"No, impassable - as in, felled trees, washed out trail markers, flood damage, et cetera."

"Right, so it's imPOSSible to follow the trail."

Helpless, she shrugged her shoulders and gave up. "It seems to me that if we don't make it to the river, I might never successfully convince you to mount a horse again." Liz replied, gently nudging Red.

They all chuckled. "You might be right."

"How about we go check it out today, then? Then we won't have to deal with the hassle of packing our camping and fishing stuff for nothing." Denny suggested.

"Nope! You're lucky that I'm willing to do it once. I'll skip the rehearsal dinner."

"Then we can all just go without you."

Shirley echoed Red's sentiment. "I'll pass, as well."

"Okay... how about this? Denny and I can check the trail, and you guys can check out Veritas instead."

Only Red was nervous about the idea of leaving Liz and Denny alone together for so long.

They would either bond or clash. This could be the very best thing or the worst.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "That works for me."

"Me too," Shirley affirmed.

Only one way to find out.