Thanks to everyone who read and to Priyanka for reviewing.

Crosses over with What Strange Creatures ch. 44 and contains reference to Natural Born Wesen.

"Oh. Uh, hey, Dad."

"I'm a little afraid to ask," Frank admitted. He'd had some work to finish up that had taken more of the morning than he'd expected, but when he'd left for the store there had been potatoes baking in the oven, sliced jalapenos on the counter, and the boys had been peeling eggs at the table.

"He was trying to marinate me?"

Roddy's suggestion was as good as any for the water splashed across the floor and the fact that both of them looked more than half soaked, and Frank shook his head as Barry punched Roddy's shoulder. "No marinating friends in the house, please. Did you at least finish most of the appetizers first?"

"Potatoes are done except for the chives and bacon bits on top, although we were thinking that we'd better leave the bacon bits for people to add themselves since Monroe won't want them," Barry said immediately. "And we found the paprika at the back of Mom's spice drawer after all so the eggs are done too."

Frank wasn't surprised to hear that, Diane had always made a point of keeping the kitchen stocked, and spices weren't on the list of things that he'd have tossed, but it wasn't like an extra bottle would do anyone any harm. "Wonderful, thank you. And that's a good point about the bacon bits, although I have my doubts about any actual meat being included in what I was able to find."

"What do you mean?"

Frank dug the jar out of the grocery bag and tossed it over for Barry to take a sniff. Given his grimace he felt about the same way Frank had, but it had been the best option among a limited selection, and if no one wanted any they could always just throw them away at the end of the night. "But what happened to the jalapenos?" he had to ask. He was reasonably certain that those were what had required the cream cheese—hamburgers and sandwiches as regular meals meant that mayo and mustard and cheddar were staples in the refrigerator, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd brought home bagels—but the tray of peppers that had been on the counter was gone.

"We put them in the fridge just to be safe," Roddy said. "But if you've got the cream cheese we can start stuffing, and once that's done they only have to bake for half an hour."

"Okay, Barry, hand me a knife and a cutting board and I'll get the chives chopped up over here while you two wipe up the floor and change into something dry. Between the three of us we ought to be able to get the pepper stuffing done pretty quickly once you're back, and then we'll do a quick sweep around the house before people start arriving."

They nodded in unison, and after handing over what Frank requested Barry grabbed a couple towels out of the cabinet and tossed one to Roddy.

Frank had finished with the chives by the time the the kitchen was cleaned up and they looked less like they'd just escaped an unexpected downpour, and when Roddy pulled the tray out of the fridge he started up the oven again. And it actually took less time than he'd expected to mix the stuffing and do the peppers, mostly because the boys had wisely just cut the peppers in half rather than hollowing them out from one end.

"If you two still have energy to burn, why don't you run down and check the mail," Frank suggested as the peppers went into the oven and Barry jabbed Roddy what he probably thought was surreptitiously behind Frank's back. It might even have been so if the reflection in the oven door hadn't given him away. "I forgot to stop on my way up, and I'll be here to take those out if the timer goes off before you get back." Because they clearly needed to be out and doing something, and he had a feeling that wandering around the house looking for random items to put away wouldn't cut it.

They exchanged glances and then nodded and headed off to find their shoes and jackets, and he checked the time and then went to make sure that nothing critical had come in over email. It hadn't, not that he was surprised with the firm and most of the other businesses in the city closed for New Year's.

He took a quick look around the house himself, but aside from the boy's laptops, which he moved to Barry's desk just to be safe, there wasn't much of anything to be cleaned up, and running the vacuum through the living and game room only took a few minutes. Although he did vaguely remember Diane helping Mrs. Robinson move furniture when she was doing seasonal cleaning...he really ought to see about having a cleaner start coming out again maybe once a month, just to make sure that chores that he didn't know that they were supposed to be doing weren't building up.

The timer for the peppers went off a few minutes later, and since there was still a little over an hour before anyone should be arriving, he checked the vegetables and steak and confirmed that the grill was ready and waiting. And while it was cool and more than a little cloudy out, for the end of a Portland December it wasn't unpleasant to the point that people couldn't spend time on the deck if they wanted to provided that they were in jackets. The boys had dusted off the table and a couple of the chairs in the back entryway that he'd never bothered to return to the patio to give them a place to stage the food through, but maybe it wouldn't be as necessary as he'd thought.

He was about to go back inside when the boys came around the back of house, jeans and jackets coated in mud, and he frowned. "This time I'm definitely afraid to ask."

"He started it," Barry said. "And there wasn't anything but junk mail."

"Dork," Roddy muttered.

"Right. Inside and change again, please." If it had just been Barry he'd have told him to hose down first, too, but for Roddy it would definitely be too cold for that. And at least both of them had the sense to strip out of boots and jackets immediately inside the door.

"Uh, I might need to borrow something," Roddy said, looking up as Frank came inside as well. "I was going to ask if I could borrow your washer tomorrow, but between this and earlier…."

"That's fine," Frank said before Barry could. "Actually, given the number of times you've gotten stuck here or marinated or whatever just happened, it might not be the worst idea to set aside a few things from what Diane put away that you know fit you, just so they're here if you need them." Especially since Frank still intended to take all of those boxes down to the donation center at some point. It had never been an issue with the twins, but with Roddy...well, there wasn't much of anything in Barry's current wardrobe that wouldn't fall right back off him.

"Oh, yeah, that's a good idea," Barry said, catching Roddy's arm and pulling him towards the basement stairs. "Come on, let's grab some stuff. I've got a couple drawers I know I never got around to putting anything back in so you might as well take one."

And there was a topic that Frank didn't care to think about. Barry had filled out during his time away to the point where he'd needed to order almost an entirely new wardrobe, and while some of it had probably been because exercise had been one of the few ways to pass the time even when limited to human maximums, it had been a year of growth that for all intents and purposes Frank hadn't been there for.

He shook himself and took a deep breath, heading back towards the kitchen. He knew that Barry was worried about the hearing, and as much as he tried not to make it obvious, he was too. Even in a worst-case scenario a remand wasn't likely to be for more than a month, but he was far less confident than Kevin that it wouldn't come to that for one very obvious reason. He knew every judge in Portland in at least a professional capacity, some in a near-personal given that they'd moved in the same social circles back when he and Diane had been attending such functions, and it was entirely possible that whoever Barry ended up in front of would be more harsh on him than they would to someone with whom they had no connection simply to avoid any potential accusation of favoritism. It hadn't been a concern with the plea deal, or at least not much of one since the DA had already signed off on everything by the time the case had gone in front of the court, but a parole hearing was a different animal.

There were quick footsteps up from the basement a few minutes later, continuing on up to Barry's room, and he turned towards the staircase. "Barry, while you're up there, change out the sheets on your bed, would you? And do the same in my office." He'd forgotten about that earlier, but while Nick and Hank had their shift to get to, he planned to invite Monroe and Rosalee to stay the night if they didn't want to be out and driving that late. And he certainly had no intention of making assumptions about their relationship.

"Sure, Dad," Barry called back.

They were up and down both flights of stairs a couple more times at a high enough rate of speed to make Frank start to feel tired, and he was a little relieved when they announced that they were going to go play basketball until everyone got here. Not that he wasn't glad that Barry had someone to help keep his mind off things or that Roddy was clearly feeling better, but there were limits.

Although he was a little curious how they were going to play basketball given the lack of hoop and the distinct differences in their builds.

He made another lap of the house, but there really wasn't anything else to be done so he brought out one of the files from the Public Defender's office that had needed another look at got lost in the details until voices at the door drew him back to the present.

It looked like all of their guests had arrived at once, although in two separate vehicles, and Frank waved Nick and Hank inside and gestured for Barry to take the drinks they'd brought—a bottle of wine and a six-pack of mixed sodas each, probably wise since they had a shift in a few hours—while Roddy helped Monroe and Rosalee with the bags they'd brought.

"I was thinking we'd go ahead and fire up the grill now, and that way we'll have plenty of time to eat before you have to go," Frank said, nodding to Nick and Hank.

"Sounds good to me," Nick agreed. "I wish we didn't have to run out on you so early, but…." A shrug.

"New Year's is one of those holidays that always brings out the crazies," Hank said. "I'm just hoping it's not as eventful as Halloween was."

"No kidding," Nick muttered. "And not just because I don't want to go for another swim."

"The complacency was just unbelievable. It's not...I'll grant that the clientele aren't exactly your typical law-abiding citizen sort, I knew that going in, but I still wasn't expecting such blatant.…" Monroe blew out a breath, shaking his head.

It wasn't the first time he'd said so, but it wasn't as if Frank disagreed. Oh, he had no idea what bar Monroe was talking about—he was back to being curious about Monroe's background, and not just because Barry had yet to explain why Monroe seemed to make him uncomfortable sometimes—but the idea that some Wesen might not be as aware of the consequences of revealing themselves as they should be...it maybe wasn't as surprising as it should have been upon reflection. It was still a very good thing that he hadn't been the one in Monroe's place, but he could see the steps that would get someone there.

Or maybe he was just feeling jaded given the motion he'd been drafting earlier.

"Well, what I still don't understand is how they think it's going to end," Rosalee said. "Even if they somehow missed the world's most basic history lessons, there's no way anyone can think—"

A yell from upstairs cut him off, the sound of breaking glass echoing even as Roddy's shout faded, and Frank was on his feet and moving automatically because he hadn't even noticed that Roddy had left the room. Roddy and Barry both, apparently and while Frank didn't believe for a second that Barry would hurt Roddy on purpose, the way the two of them had been bouncing off the walls for most of the day...maybe they'd pulled something down on themselves?

Monroe somehow reached the bottom of the stairs before he did, and while Frank's blood went cold as the roared challenge of a just-shy-of-full-grown Jagerbar was matched by something else big and vicious-sounding overhead, Monroe simply picked up speed as the bones in his back shifted visibly under his shirt.