A/N1: Hello, my friends. I'm back. Well, I'm sort of back. There's been some tumult going on in my real life for the last few months. I'm finding it hard to get my head into the right place to visit with my friends Chuck and Sarah. I want to, but every time I try, I get distracted by real life crap. I haven't abandoned you guys or this story. Not at all. I hope the problems I'm having are going to settle out in the next few weeks or so. I'm truly hoping to get into a better place for writing when that's been sorted out. In the meantime, I want to thank all of you for being such a great community. So many of you have reached out to make sure I'm ok and your support means the world to me. Thanks, guys. It's a joy to have such friends.
A/N2: Ownership? Yeah, whatever.
A/N3: It is entirely coincidental that this chapter is being dropped near Thanksgiving. Those of you who know me by now also know that I am incapable of consciously orchestrating such careful timing. LOL.
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Recap: It's been a while, so some of us might have missed the plot. Let's see what we can do about that. Team B has identified Ted Roark as the Sachem of Fulcrum and enlisted the entirety of the Federal government to act in concert to bring him and his organization down. The good guys have some plans in mind, but haven't seen fit to explain them to us yet. So far as we can tell, they are vast and intended to inflict severe damage to Roark and his henchmen. I am looking forward to seeing what they are up to.
Just to remind everyone of the cast of good guy characters for this arc: Team B proper – Chuck, Sarah, Casey, Zondra. Adjunct Team Fitz – Fitz, Marco, Leo, Billy. Adjunct Team Colt – Colt, Jack, Marty, Frankie. Adjunct Team Bernstein – Rachel, Jorge, Brett, Johnny. I know, I know. I've expanded the cast to a ridiculous extent. The thing is, the government is only now allocating the staffing necessary for this magnitude of problem. And they are also coming to the inevitable conclusion that Chuck and Sarah should be running the show, the tip of the spear as it were. Those decisions are being made in the Oval Office.
However, today's entry is just a relaxing time with friends and family, celebrating the holiday.
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Thanksgiving Day, 2008, Emma O'Donnell's house in Burbank
Thanksgiving Day. The day for giving thanks. Giving thanks to God, the universe, or just karma and the world. Originally a harvest festival. But a time for recognizing the good things that life has granted you. You could be in the uncomfortable position of having to look high and low to find those good things, but they will be there to be found if you concentrate hard enough. That's what American society has chosen for this day. And, for the first time in decades, Emma joyfully embraced it with the entirety of her heart and soul.
The last truly happy Thanksgiving she'd had was before Jack stole Sam away from her. Her fury and despair was overwhelming after that and, when she looked back, she could acknowledge that his actions had almost broken her. It took her years to even accept a friend's invitation to celebrate Thanksgiving with their family. Her lovely young daughter was gone with her criminal ex-husband. Her life without Sam was a life without warmth or love. Then, a bit more than a year ago, Sam had shown up on her doorstep with Molly, a half-assed story, and a dire warning. She was thrilled that Sam was still alive and looked healthy, if not happy. And she dove headfirst into the role of Molly's mother. Thanksgiving last year was a quiet affair, with just the two of them. But Emma had been happier last Thanksgiving than she'd been in years.
But now...
Now...
At the moment, Sarah was across the kitchen chopping vegetables, swaying her hips in place, and singing along to a song on the radio. Emma stopped for a moment and stared at her older daughter. Emma's heart was bursting with love and joy. Here was her beautiful daughter, singing along in her kitchen in her mansion in Los Angeles. There were no words to describe the happiness Emma was experiencing. Her life had gone, in fifteen short months, from bitter black-and-white to the most wonderful technicolor happiness anyone could ever wish for. She started to cry from joy so intense it was almost painful. Sarah, still cutting the veggies and bopping along to the music, looked up at her mom and said, with a happy smirk, "What?"
When she saw the happy tears on her mother's cheeks, she dropped the knife and rushed to wrap the older woman in a hug. She rubbed her mom's back and said, "Bit overwhelming, huh, mom?"
Emma was sobbing into Sarah's shoulder. "I've never been happier in my entire life than I am today. Right now. I have my lost daughter back with me and my precious new daughter too. And the whole family that comes along with Chuck and Ellie." She laughed to herself. "Last year was just me and Molly. Now I'm having a round dozen guests for dinner." Well, if she took Molly out of the count, it was only eleven. And if she took Sarah out...and Chuck, of course, it was only nine guests. Ellie and Devon. Devon's parents, Woody and Honey. Chuck's dad, Stephen. Chuck and Sarah's spy friends, Casey, Zondra, Carina, and Jorge.
There were more of the crew that couldn't be there. Both Morgan and Eileen were working. And Sarah's Harvard roommate Rachel and her fiancée had headed back to New York for the holiday.
She said to her daughter, her voice quaking with emotion, "Sarah, I'm not alone anymore."
"Never again, Mom. Never again," said Sarah, tearing up a bit herself.
Emma seemed to shake herself and pushed gently away from Sarah, "Okay, thanks, but I don't have time for this silliness. I've got work to do." Emma smiled happily and used the back of her hands to wipe her tears away. "A feast to cook."
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Sometime later, on Emma's back deck, Woody sipped his wine and said to Honey, "You think Devon knows the real story about Molly?"
"What do you mean," she asked.
"Come on. For Emma to adopt a baby twenty-five years after giving birth to Sarah is weird. And she's a single mom damn close to our age. The whole thing is just odd. That's all I'm saying."
"Well," said Honey. "Maybe, but they seem truly happy and blessed to have each other. Let the mystery alone, Woody. And anyway, if Devon does know you can be damn sure he's not telling us. If there's one thing this crew knows how to do it's keep secrets." She gave him a serious look, but with just a hint of mischief in her gaze.
"Yeah. That they do," he agreed, clicking his wine glass to his wife's and looking at her with love and understanding.
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While her guests were milling around with drinks and wine and hors d'oeuvres, Emma was cleaning up Molly. The little one had been playing outside with Chuck and Jorge, who seemed to be a really nice young man. Dinner was in the oven and would be ready on time. She hoped. It was her first time cooking a turkey in this new oven and she was a little nervous about the time. She was using the rule of thumb of 13 minutes per pound, but that depended on the temperature of the oven keeping a steady 350 degrees.
Casey caught her eye and made a gesture to ask if she wanted him to refresh the guests' drinks. She made a face and a nod that indicated her approval and appreciation. He grunted and got started. What a great guy, she thought.
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Chuck and Zondra were setting up the folding table and chairs he'd bought the day before. Once up, they spread the tablecloth out. Sarah had put out piles of plates and silverware and glasses for the table settings. Chuck and Zondra took them and began to set the table.
As they did so, she said, "Pre-operation jitters?"
Chuck gave a quick bark of laughter and said, "Jitters? Sure. Curtain goes up tomorrow on Black Friday. RIOS on sale. Am I worried about what we have in store for Roark? Sure. No plan survives first contact with the enemy. But on Monday, Roark will be having a very bad day."
She smirked, putting down a fork, and said, "Mike Tyson says everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face."
Chuck laughed. "That's pretty cool. The wisdom of a veteran fighter. That's a quote worthy of Sun Tsu, actually. But for us, I know. I'm not having us going in arrogant. But I think our plan is solid. If it works, Roark will have the worst Monday on record and by Tuesday we might be in a pretty decent position." He looked at her while positioning a wine glass, "At least, that's the plan."
Zondra raised an empty glass in a gesture and said, "Here's to the plan, boss."
"Here, here," he said. "And let's ask Mr. Murphy to take the day off."
"Amen," said Zondra.
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"It's been such a delight to meet you, Stephen," said Honey. "I have to tell you that Woody and I are thrilled to be joining our families together. Ellie is just such a terrific person and a perfect partner for our Devon. She's so kind and loving and brilliant. And Devon loves her to the moon and the stars."
"Oh, that's just great, Honey. Just great. And I think Devon's just awesome too," said Stephen with a grin. Both Woody and Honey laughed at that. "And, Woody, I want to thank you for offering to walk Ellie down the aisle at the wedding. I truly appreciate your looking out for her like that."
"You're very welcome, Stephen. It would have been my honor. But Ellie talked to me last night and now that you are back in LA, I gladly relinquish it to you. It restores the proper order of things."
Woody and Stephen clicked their glasses.
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Dinner was served. Roast turkey, of course, stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, Hasselback potatoes, sweet potato casserole, string beans, brussels sprouts with maple syrup, carrots, cranberry sauce, and cornbread.
As they all sat and settled at the long table, Emma raised her glass of wine and said, "Thank you all for coming. It's been driven home to me in the last year just how important family is, both to me and to all of us. There is nothing to be more thankful for than the privilege and joy of being with our family." Her voice caught for a second and her eyes got a bit glassy. "And you are all family to me and to my beautiful daughters, Sarah and Molly."
At the mention of her name, Molly waved her little arms in the air. Sarah gently tickled her sister in her armpit, making the girl giggle.
"To family," said Emma, gesturing with her wine glass.
The others echoed the statement and settled down to eat.
Jorge sat next to Honey and she said, "You're Jorge, right?"
"That's right. And you're Honey, Devon's mom, right?"
"That's right. Nice to meet you. I'm told that you work with Chuck and Sarah."
"Yes. Computer stuff. Nothing too exciting," he said with a smile.
Honey gave him a small smile of her own. She had no real evidence, but had become increasingly convinced that Chuck, Sarah, and their friends were involved in something clandestine, in addition to their computer work. Furthermore, it was something that both her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law were privy to. What it was she didn't know, but she was certain that they were on the side of the angels. Hell, the Director of the CIA was walking Sarah down the aisle at the wedding, for God's sake. She and Woody had discussed it. While they wouldn't actively investigate, they agreed that they would keep their eyes and ears open.
"Oh," said Honey with a smile, "I'm sure it's pretty exciting. At least it would be if I understood it. How are Chuck and Sarah to work for?"
"Oh, my God. Honey, I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful they are. I could say that this is the best job I ever had with the best bosses I can even imagine. I could say that. But it wouldn't even begin to describe how I feel about them. Don't tell them this, but I would do this job for free. That's how much I love it. And Chuck and Sarah are the most awesome, fantastic people I've ever met. Ever. And to have them together...Jeez, Honey, I can't even tell you what that means...how lucky we all are that they are who they are. The combination of the two of them isn't additive, it's logarithmic. Combining them gives you ten times the effect that they would have separately." Jorge saw the look on her face, the slight warm smile. He laughed at himself. "Sorry. I get a little carried away when I consider those two."
She laid a gentle hand on his arm and said, "Quite alright. For what it's worth, Woody and I like them too."
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Dinner was over. All three of Casey's pies had been finished and most of the guests were lolling around trying to digest the delicious meal. Football was on the TV.
Molly was still ready to play, though. Casey and Jorge had her outside throwing around a ball. She wasn't strong enough to get any real distance. Casey was patiently showing her how to step forward with the throw to put more of her bodyweight behind the ball.
Molly threw to Jorge and, with her tutelage from Casey, the ball went over Jorge's head. He lunged backwards to snag the surprising throw and twisted his ankle on the lip between the grass and the pool deck. He fell in a heap.
In only moments, the four doctors were tending to him. The collective wisdom is that he twisted his ankle. A bag of ice and a pillow on an ottoman were the medical recommendations.
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Zondra had just finished bringing the last of the dishes in from the table. Sarah and Chuck were stripping the tables of the tablecloths as Devon was breaking down the folding table and chairs.
Emma, at the sink with the dishes asked Zondra, "What's going on with the stuff you guys are up to at the Studio on the sexual harassment issues?"
Zondra, emptying food scraps into a compost bin, said, "We've had a few complaints about problems. Surprising, at least to me, some were from men complaining about the same sort of shit you'd expect a woman to go through. But they've died down. Some were bullshit, but the ones that were real...well, we dealt with them pretty harshly. The behavior seems to be better. At least at the Studio."
"Well, that's good. Doesn't clean up the whole industry, but it's good to know you're doing good where you are."
"Yup," agreed Zondra. "I have a meeting with the SAG officers in a couple of weeks. I want to prod them to establish a code of conduct to help prevent this crap."
"And Weinberg himself?" asked Emma.
Zondra gave a short bark of laughter. "Nothing yet, but there are a couple of red-hot reporters working on it. I think they will eventually strike gold. The biggest problem is that no one will go on the record against him. We're working with them to set something up that might help convince some women. We'll see, I guess."
"Good luck."
"Thanks," said Zondra.
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A/N4: Mike Tyson didn't say that until after 2008. Sorry. It was too good a quote to jettison.
A/N5: Mr. Murphy. Murphy's Law states, "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." To hope for Mr. Murphy to avoid the party is essentially a wish for good luck. Let's see how that goes.
A/N6: SAG is the Screen Actors Guild, the union for movie actors. In 2012 it merged with AFTRA, the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, as its name suggests, the labor union for TV and radio. About ten years after this story is set, SAG-AFTRA established a code of conduct to protect its members from sexual harassment.
A/N7: Ok. I have to admit it was very tough for me to start this chapter, but now that I've finished it, it was fun. I have to see if I can get the focus to try again next week. I hope so.