---

---

Samantha Carrington was half awake when the knocking came. To her hungover mind it sounded like a symphony of drums, banging away until the sound became much to loud and imposing to ignore. Sam, in an effort to keep her head from literally splitting, attempted to drown out the noise by shoving her head under her pillow and groaning, but when she realized the knocking was not going to cease anytime soon she slowly stood up from the couch she had been lounging on. Stumbling towards the pale-wooded entrance way slowly, Sam dug through her mind lazily, attempting to pull out some harsh words to spit at whomever was bothering her, but in the end she merely opened the door and sent a freezing glare their way. The person stared up at her with upturned eyes, tugging at the collar of their uniform. It was a worker, one she normally saw around the front desk at the bottom of her apartment complex, and they nervously held forth a rather large package and letter.

”For you, Ms. Carrington.” The attendant said chirpily, young face revealing their anxious mental state. Sam glanced down at the items being held out to her, one eyebrow quirking curiously, and then in a raspy voice she asked,

“From who?” The attendant shrugged in response, shaking his head as if to say ‘I don’t know’ and Sam snatched up both the box and letter quickly, snorting at the worker’s apparent uselessness. She nodded once, perhaps an attempt at showing thanks, and then she slammed the door shut with her right foot. Glancing down at the two items now in her possession, she maneuver her free hand to turn the letter over, and instantly her complexion paled. There, where the envelop sealed, was that all too familiar crest, stamped onto the paper in a bright red wax. Her body seemed to numb, her blood ran cold, and she stiffly made her way over to a messy, glass dining room table. Shoving aside the empty beer cans and art supplies, Sam gently laid the items onto the surface and first turned towards the letter. Using her longer fingernails she picked away the wax, her hands trembling ever so slightly, and once the envelope was open she peered inside and blinked accordingly.

Tickets, two of them, and letters were inside. She pulled out the tickets first, gazing at them with suspicion clear on her face, and once she felt satisfied with them she turned to the remaining two letters. She pulled out the first one, squinting to focus on the words as her still hungover mind was forcing her to see double. She felt a dark air settle around her at the mention of searching for an heir, and she carelessly let the first letter drop onto the table before turning to the other one. Now, this letter seemed much more personal, in fact, it was all about her. Sam grimaced at first, but eventually her heart swelled with nostalgia and guilt, and tears threatened to spill already. However, the stubborn Samantha Carrington lifted her head quickly, using the back of her hand to rub away whatever sadness she felt. Eventually, she let that letter fall, and her attention turned to the box.

It was big, big enough to hold a nice picture frame, and again the seal of the Carrington family marked the outside. She took a moment to stumble into the kitchen, grabbing a small, sharp knife, and with it she dug into the package and opened it with ease. At the sight of the painting inside, however, she felt her hands tremble, and the tears she had attempted to wipe away fell freely. It was an old piece, so, so old, maybe one of the first things she had painted. Every stroke was ametur, young, but still Sam couldn’t help but smile at how proud she felt when she first made it. Slowly, shakily, she lifted it from the box and moved it aside, finding another ift below. A book set, Vincent Van Gogh’s letters and writings. Sam felt a smile tug at her lips, but she shook it away and turned to stare at the last few remaining items; a bag of cookies, candles, and a smaller picture frame. Sam sighed, inspecting all the items once more in an attempt to find some kind of prank note, anything to prove to her that this wasn’t just a drunken joke, but eventually she gave up and slid to the floor, holding her head carelessly in her lap.

“Vacation…. Huh?” She muttered groggily. The idea of a vacation hadn’t passed through her mind since her last marriage, and the idea of her family being there was just a notion that never came to be. But… Maybe it was time, right? Time to apologize. Sam felt her jaw tighten, teeth clenched in an angry manner. Was she really ready to see them, apologize, and then continue on with life? Could she do it all alone? Glancing up from beneath the table, she focused on the two tickets again, and instantly a familiar face filled her head. Jesse. She pulled herself up slowly, moving clumsily towards the kitchen again. Her hand wrapped around the base of her cordless phone, and she dialed in the familiar number quickly.

---

---

It was early when her phone started buzzing, the sound of ABBA blaring through the tinny speaker. Jesse figured it was no later than 8AM, and while she normally would have been up and ready if it wasn’t the weekend, today was to be her only rest in a whole week. She had good intention of staying indoors – in bed – for the majority of the morning, and maybe even some of the afternoon. Then she might have taken her dog for a walk, might have said ‘Howdy,’ to her neighbors and fed some apples to their horses, and hell, she she might have even gone into town for the rest of the day.

But no, her phone rang, and that meant either one of two things. She was on call (what deputy ever wasn’t?) so it could have been the department requiring her assistance, usually because of someone flaking out or getting shot on duty.

Or.

Or it could have been Sam.

Pale blue light filtered in through the floral curtains, the clouds outside surprisingly dark and thick. Ominous. Jesse pulled herself up to sit at the edge of the bed, and afterwards reached for her several years out-of-date cellphone. Not bothering to glance at the Caller ID, she answered it with a brusque, “Hello?”

“Jesse?” The voice was hoarse and tired. Obviously Sam’s, but instead of having its usual harsh edge she sounded a bit more somber, sad. It tugged at Jesse’s heartstrings, as always, and she ran a tired hand through her hair as she stood up and wandered into the kitchen for a better signal in the middle of pastoral America.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s up? It’s early for a phone call,” Jesse noted, before shaking her head and hastily continuing, “Not that I was doing anything.” Who needs sleep anyway? She could sleep when she was dead: Sam was more important.

“Sorry, sorry for bothering you but, ah,” There was a shuffling over the speaker, as if she was settling down somewhere, “I got a package from them. My parents, Jesse. They sent me a package.” Sam’s voice sounded panicked, maybe even a bit shrill, as if receiving mail from her parents was some kind of supernatural event.

When have you ever bothered me? Jesse felt like saying that, but her mouth thinned into a pale, bloodless line. “Sam, calm down,” she said mildly, and probably unhelpfully, but it was the least she could do when on the other side of the goddamn country from her friend. Samantha Carrington’s relationship with her parents had always been something Jesse couldn’t understand completely, not when her Dad had been a hero and her mother non-existent, but from the sound of them they were awful, awful people – she’d made her own opinions up on them, no matter how Sam tried to exalt them and blame the bad blood between them all on herself. “What’s in the package, and why are you all worked up over it?”

At this point, Jesse was half-expecting some body part like a cut-off ear, if only to emphasise the Carrington’s role as supervillains.

“... Tickets. They’ve invited me to a family reunion featuring a trip across Europe. So, tickets, a few letters, and, uh.” Sam was silent for a moment or two, as if she were thinking of what to say, “gifts. Just, little gifts. Weird things.”

“Huh,” Jesse said helpfully, and had a quiet moment of her own as she wondered what to say. She’d never been big on words, and especially not asking questions or answering them. She saw no real need to ask what the letters said, or what the presents actually were, because presumably the next time she booked a flight out to New York, she’d learn all that anyway. That left one pressing issue: “It sounds like they’re trying to, uh, reconnect. Maybe. Are you thinking ‘bout going?”

“Yes, but I… I can’t do it alone, ya know?” Sam laughed in her low, hearty way, and then quickly sighed and continued on, “I want you to come with me, Jesse. There’s two tickets, everything is paid for, and if you’re there I know I can handle it.”

Didn’t that just warm her heart right up?

Jesse ran a hand down her face, and though she didn’t intend to leave Samantha hanging for so long, she paused to drink some orange juice straight from the bottle – wishing fervently all the while that it was scotch. “Yeah, yeah alright. Let me make some phone calls; I’ll take a leave of absence. But I’m warning you – I’m bringing my best Brooklyn accent to scandalize your parents.” Another pause. “And maybe my gun.”

---

---

The warmth outside was only rivalled by the heat of Sam’s face. She was bright red, sweating, and nervous, ultimately unprepared to face her parents after almost thirty years of being estranged. Around the two women was a crowd, the usual scene of an airport during the holidays, and Sam held Jesse’s hand in a vice grip in order to both keep herself calm to keep her friend from getting pulled away in the stream of people. She moved with a purpose, her face cold and void of emotion (save for her bright cheeks), but her grip of Jesse was mixed with sweat and tremors. Samantha Carrington, for once, was both sober and anxious.

Jesse’s free hand was dragging Sam’s case, which was far heavier than her own – hence why they had swapped. It was difficult for her to be nervous in any way about the trip, especially since it wasn’t her own family, so she resolved herself to be a steely source of strength for Sam as she marched them through the airport to where they were going, following the confusing signs. “Relax,” she said to her. “It’s going to be fine.”

Jesse didn’t quite believe what she was telling her friend.

“So, I figure we’re not travelling Economy,” Jesse guessed. “What plane are we going to, now?”

“Mommy and daddy’s private jet.” Sam said, a bit of spite creeping into her voice. Very soon, Sam lead them away from the crowd and towards the private terminal. This space was much less crowded, infact it was practically empty, and Sam felt a bit of discomfort from the sudden lack of noise. They continued on however, Sam at times sighing or coughing to form some kind of noise to fill the air. Soon enough the jet was insight, and Sam froze to collect her thoughts, turning to stare at Jesse with her usually cold, green eyes.

“I don’t know what they’re going to be like, I don’t know if they’ll like you or not, just,” She sighed, shaking her head slowly, some flyaways escaping from the tight bun on the back of her head, “don’t scare them or anything, try and act as natural as possible.” Sam wondered briefly if she should follow her own advice, and a slight grimace took up her expression.

“I’m always natural,” Jesse complained without heat, a shrug tacked on to the end. She was expecting as much, being the working class plus one of a Carrington, and hadn’t been kidding about scandalizing Sam’s parents. The corners of her lips quirked up in a grim smile as she thought of one other possible issue. “You might wanna think quickly ‘bout what you’re gonna introduce me as, Sammy.” Sam pouted, and then she gave a small chuckle and the two continued on towards the plane.

Eventually they were staring up at the figures just atop the jet’s stairs. Sam matched her mother’s distant, emotionless face, but her grip tightened around Jesse’s hand, and with a slight nod of the hand she began.

“Good morning, mom, dad.” She greeted tightly, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, “hope you’ve been well, ah.” She motioned awkwardly towards Jesse, already having trouble finding her words, “this is Jesse my, er, friend. Girl, girlfriend. Yeah.” Her cheeks deepened in color, embarrassment seeping into her mind, and she glanced at the floor quietly. Hopefully the jet was stocked with alcohol, Sam was craving a drink.

“Nice to meet you,” Jesse said with a slightly smoother drawl – a strange mixture of the South and Brooklyn, but mostly the latter. Christ, she must’ve been nervous for that to happen. She managed what she hoped was a charming grin, smoothing down her shirt like a prom date. “Long-term friends, but the girlfriend thing’s a bit new hence the, uh, hesitation.”

Too new.

---

---

“Now, what could this be?”

Katelyn, with a hand full of bills and unmarked envelopes, allowed her eyes to curiously gloss over a small package and sealed letter. It was rare, really, for her to receive anything other than bills or spam mail, and Kate glanced over the two items carefully, soaking up any details she could about them. The letter was hidden in a fancy, perhaps expensive envelope, and seal shut with an almost-familiar wax crest. The package shared the same seal, and seemed otherwise unmarked. Katelyn glanced up at the attendant before her, smiling cheerily at the landlord who was in charge of gathering mail for whomever lived in the building above., and with a slight cough she asked who sent the fancy mail. Much to her surprise, however, she was met with a mere shrug and brief instructions to merely take the mysterious package and letter up to Daniel. Kate blinked once, and then, not wishing to pry, she merely gathered the items up in her free hand and vanished quickly into the stairwell.dsq1

Katelyn slipped into her apartment a few minutes later, carefully tiptoeing her way across the hardwood floor in an effort to keep any mail from dropping. She eventually entered the main area of the apartment, featuring an open kitchen and warm living room. Early morning sunlight filtered through the beige curtains, and Kate’s potted plants curled away from the frost-ridden windows. The chill of winter had not waited for November to end, it seemed, and Kate took note of the breezy cold air that managed to slip through the older window sill. She moved silently over to the small dining table, throwing down the pile of bills and spam mail haphazardly as she carefully moved the mystery package up into her now free hand. She curiously examined the two items, holding the envelope up to the dim light-fixture to try and read the contents, but once that failed she simply turned, calling out in a hushed yet stern voice,

“Danny! Package for you! Are you up yet?”

Dan had just woken up, and shuffled in blearily. He was cradling a warm cup in his hands and took a sip from it, yawning as he made his way over to Kate. His eyes sharpened at the sight of the envelope in her hands, and he moved more hurriedly, setting his mug down and taking it from her. His brows furrowed as he stared at the very familiar Carrington crest emblazoned on the front of it. After a beat of silence, he glanced up at Kate.

“I made some tea for you. It’s in the kitchen.”

Then he stared back down at the envelope and turned it over once again in his hands, trying to guess at what might be inside. Carefully, he peeled it open and out slid tickets and a pamphlet. Setting the tickets down on the table next to his coffee, he opened up the booklet.

As his eyes flicked over the information there, his expression grew ever more tight, lips pursing and eyes narrowing. Finally, he put down the thin pamphlet and collapsed into a chair, hand going for his coffee as he stared up at the ceiling in despair. It was far too early for this. Honestly, a trip around Europe? What, did they think he was going to drop everything and go? (Not that he actually had that much to do, but really it was the principle of it) And very considerately they’d enclosed an invitation for a guest of his choosing. Well, this was his punishment for not coming out when he’d had the chance.

Grabbing at the next letter, he flicked his eyes over it, before his eyebrows starting climbing. Well. This was very unexpected indeed. It was still as formal as he’d expect, but it was more personalised. A small unwanted part of him couldn’t help but preen at the praise, but he squashed that rather quickly. What did it matter if he got this now? Was it meant to make up for all the other years?

Glancing towards the kitchen where he could hear Kate shuffling around, he sighed. There wasn’t anyone else he’d really rather take. Standing again, after another long sip from his coffee he started towards her before his eyes landed on the package sitting on the table, likewise with the Carrington crest placed on it, flashy and demanding attention. There were fragile stickers all over it, as well as arrows saying ‘this way up’

Opening it apprehensively, he found a sleek black box, with ‘Scrabble’ written across the top in very fancy silver lettering. His eyes widened, and he slid the top of the box off to stare at the glass board inside, everything staying within a monochrome colour scheme. After picking up some of the pieces with a kind of wide-eyed wonder that only existed in childhood, he lifted it fully out and stared down at a pile of folders.

Flipping one open, he stopped when he saw it was from one of his favourite cases. The closing argument from a lawyer who was defending someone that was clearly guilty. It had tipped the majority of the jury in their favour.

Next to those was another slim box. As he slid the lid off it, he was surprised to see a sleek ballpoint pen. It would have looked like any other pen to anyone else, but he knew what it was. It was his dad's personal pen, the one he used for almost everything he did. Grabbing a spare piece of paper he scrawled on it before grinning at how smoothly the ink flowed from it.

Kate, after grabbing the mug of tea Daniel had prepared for her, creeped silently over to watch her friend unwrap his package. Peering over his shoulder curiously, she instantly grimaced at the sight of the Scrabble board, but, as polite as ever, she merely tapped his shoulder and asked innocently,

“Why’d you get all this?”

Daniel jumped slightly as she tapped him, but turned around to face her. He only hesitated for a second, before asking,

“Well, you’ve heard about the Carringtons, right? Not me, my parents. They own Trium-Veritas.” After a pause, and a breath, he continued, “they kind of want to have a family reunion of sorts. But, across Europe.” He rolled his eyes mentally at the thought of them doing anything by halves.

Glancing down at the scrabble set, then across at the tickets, he offered a weak smile,
“So. How do you feel about travelling across the world to meet up with my family?”

Kate nodded briefly at the mention of Daniel’s parents, and then her eyebrows hitched upwards at the apparent vacation they had planned. Damn rich people. She sipped her tea thoughtfully, listening as her friend continued on, and as he ended his explanation with an invitation for her to go with him she nearly choked. “Me, going with you to Europe?” Kate laughed, sounding confused and excited, “how can I say no? Unless there are, eh, ya know,” she rounded across the table, taking a seat in the chair across from him before continuing on, “catches. Is everything paid for? And, like, I’ve never met your folks. What if they don’t like me?” Kate caught herself before she started rambling off about things that could go wrong, and with a quizzical look on her face she leaned forward and awaited a few answers.

Daniel couldn’t help but smile at her immediate excitement, and barrage of questions. He laughed and held up a hand at all her queries, and started to answer them one by one.

“Everything is paid for, our flight out from here and everything after that. My parents...they can be a little much to deal with, but it’s really my siblings you’ll have to look out for. There are...what, ten of us? Yeah, a lot basically.”

He thought for a second, and rubbed the back of his neck.
“The only catch I could think of, is that you’d have to pretend to be my girlfriend. I found out about asexuality when I was in college, so most of them don’t know. My parents might suspect, but I don’t think anyone else does. I don’t fancy having to explain it, because you know how long that will take.” A pointed look to her as they both remembered just how many questions Kate had shot at him then

As he finished talking, his stomach gave a loud and unappreciative grumble. They both paused, then burst out laughing, and Daniel stood.

“Alright, enough talking about my family. I need food, and I need it now.”

---

---

Daniel wasn’t ashamed to say that he had packed more then Kate. It was by barely anything, but she always teased him for it, saying that it wouldn’t be that bad to wear something two days in a row. He’d simply looked at her, horrified and that had been that.

His hair also needed an almost lethal amount of hair products to make it stay down and maintain at least a facade of being tame. These were all excuses he used to explain why he needed a large suitcase.

Tucking his overcoat around him more firmly as they both exited the airport, he paused to take a deep breath. Kate put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he looked back at her appreciatively before they both set off, the tickets impossibly heavy in his coat.

They could see the jet from here, and as Kate hurried forward-excited even now-and he had to quicken his pace to follow. As they approached, he saw four figures standing at the top of the steps that lead to the aeroplane. His breath shuddered, and he stopped once again the close his eyes under the facade of adjusting his grip on his suitcase. A hand gripped his free one, and he looked up to see Kate’s smile. It was oddly calming.

They made it to the bottom of the steps and had their bags taken from them. His hand clenched with nothing to hold and he stared at the first step as thought it was going to kill him. It wasn’t that much of a noticeable hesitation before he did take the first step, and another, until he and Kate were both behind the four figures already standing there.

The first thing he had to note were his parents. He hadn’t seen them in so long, but it was as if they hadn’t changed. The same, stiff posture. The same unsmiling faces. Although that could have been the people standing in front of him. He paused for a moment, before a look of surprise dashed across his face. It was Sam. His older sister who he hadn’t seen since he was a child. He didn’t know who her guest was, but they were gripping hands tightly, as if Sam didn’t want to let go.

His eyes flickered to them and away again, and there was an awkward pause before he cleared his throat.

“Um, yes. Hello. It’s nice to see you. This is my...girlfriend?” It sounded like almost like a question as he shot a quick gaze back at her. She nodded imperceptibly. They hadn’t talked about this enough. Or at all really.
“Yes, my girlfriend. Katelyn Song.”

He struggled for something else to say before tacking onto the end of his statement,
“Thank you for the Scrabble set. And the pen.” He glanced at his father at the last bit, a small smile tweaking the corners of his lips before disappearing again under tense, pursed lips that looked almost like a mirror image of his mother's.

---

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There was a dull throb in his head as he stared out the window, watching the streets of NYC go by. He initially thought it was because he was listening to Max go on and on about his own family. But he knew that wasn't true. Hell, any other day and he'd be the one asking Max how the family was doing and listening intently to the stories. But today wasn't just any other day. Today was the day Charlie Carrington, youngest of the Carrington siblings, would meet his entire family for the first time. The first time the entire Carrington family had been in one place. As far as Charlie could remember anyway. Sure, he had met some of them already but some of his older siblings had already left home before Charlie had even been born. The most contact he had with some of them was when they sent him an occasional birthday message on social media. Charlie was apprehensive to say the least. What if they didn't like him? What if this trip drove the siblings that he did know further away? These were worst case scenarios but Charlie couldn't stop them running through his head.

In an attempt to distract himself, he turned his attention to Max. The man in the front seat of the town car driving through the city was one of many staff hired by the Carrington family. He had been assigned as Charlie's driver after the youngest Carrington had failed his drivers test twice. Charlie always maintained that wasn't his fault. He knew how to drive a car but other people kept getting in his way. When another driver would pull out in front of him too quickly or drive too slowly in front of him, Charlie was often unsure of how to react. He was actually quite a good driver but other drivers always messed up his thinking. He realized that was a rather apt analogy for his dealings with other people in general. He didn't mind having Max drive him around though. Max was a nice guy who had always been very accommodating of Charlie's...eccentricities.

The only thing that bothered Charlie slightly about Max was the sneaking suspicion he had that his parents had secretly hired him to act not only as a driver but as a bodyguard too. As Charlie stared at the back of Max's bald head, he remembered the time, shortly after meeting Max, when Charlie had sneaked out to go drinking with some friends. Of course there wasn't a whole lot of sneaking involved. His parents were no where to be found at the time and Charlie was sure they were on the other side of the country but it made him feel better thinking of it as sneaking out rather than just walking out the front door. Anyway, Charlie had made it past the bouncers thanks to a fake I.D of his own making that claimed he was a medical student at Mount Sinai. Unfortunately he had gotten a little too drunk that night and made a comment to some guys girlfriend. He had meant it as a purely factual statement. She was very attractive and Charlie was merely pointing this out. Unfortunately this gentleman and his friends, also in drunken states, didn't see it that way and dragged Charlie and his friends outside to teach him not to “hit on my girl” or whatever. Charlie was expecting to get an ass whooping but before he even knew what was going on, Max was on the scene. He leveled the drunk and his two buddies by himself. Charlie and his friends were lost for words but were quickly bundled into the back of a car by Max and driven home. Charlie was grateful to Max for saving him that night but Max simply told him not to bring it up and to be more careful next time. Curious about his driver from that point on, Charlie did a little online digging and found that not only was Max born in Israel, he was also well versed in Krav Maga. Charlie wasn't able to find any real proof but he had a suspicion that Max had at one point been a member of the Israel Defense Forces. He knew better than to ask, however, as Max clearly didn't want to talk about his past. While Charlie was grateful that Max was looking our for him, he slightly resented the idea that his parents thought he needed a bodyguard in the first place. How much trouble did they think he got up to when they weren't around? Did they think he was such a wimp that he couldn't look after himself? He probably couldn't but that wasn't the point. He wasn't even entirely sure what the point was but he knew there was one.

“I'm telling you, I think she's a genius. You'd like her.” said Max as Charlie realized he hadn't been listening to a single word his driver had said. He had lost himself in his own thoughts. But then again he had distracted himself from the stress of the family vacation for a moment.
“Uh huh.” Charlie offered by way of response.
Max sighed and mumbled “You haven't even been listening to me, have you?”
“Of course I have!” argued Charlie, pretending to be annoyed to cover the fact that Max was right. “You think your daughter's a genius.” It wasn't really that hard to figure out. His daughter was always Max's favorite subject to talk about.
“Mmmhmmm” replied Max, eying Charlie through the rear view mirror. “It'll be okay, kid.” he offered. Charlie saw his eyes turn from skeptical to sympathetic. He shifted uncomfortably in the back seat, trying not to look at Max. He wasn't comfortable with the fact that Max usually seemed to know exactly what he was thinking about.

It'll be okay he reminded himself. He'd meet his family, go on vacation and have a great time. But before all that, he had to make one stop. He had to pick up the one person that would help him the most through the next few weeks. His best friend, Amelia. He had already invited her to come along on the family vacation and she had accepted. Charlie was glad. He didn't think he could face his entire family without a little emotional support from someone on the outside. His eyes drifted to the small collection of boxes sitting next to him in the car. He had already given Amelia her Christmas gift. A mini planetarium projector that displayed a light show of the known stars and planets across her bedroom walls and ceiling, but he had bought a couple of smaller, spur of the moment gifts for her too, including a bonsai tree, a zombie gnome and a box of Lego shaped candy. He had a habit of buying small gifts for his friends. Some thought it was weird and often suspected some kind of ulterior motive but Charlie just enjoyed doing it. Christmas gave him the perfect opportunity.

The car pulled up in front of Amelia's place and the engine shut off. Max got out and hurried around to open the door for Charlie but the door was already open by the time he got there and Charlie was shuffling out with his small bundle of gifts in his arms. Charlie smirked at Max as he stood. It was an unspoken game between the two of them to see if Max could get the door open before Charlie. Max took his duties as driver very seriously and always thought he should open the door for his passenger. Charlie, on the other hand, didn't think things like that were necessary. He was perfectly capable of opening a car door by himself. Max gave Charlie a halfhearted smile in response. With no hands free to close the door behind him however, Charlie let Max do that for him. He walked from the car towards Amelia's door, stopping when he slipped slightly on a patch of ice. He heard Max snicker slightly as he stood by the car and turned his head to look at him. Max covered his smile with a cough and a closed hand to his mouth as he looked away. Charlie half smiled at him before carrying on to the door where he shifted the boxes he carried in his arms so he could ring the bell. As he stood and waited for Amelia to answer, he looked down at himself. He was more dressed up than usual, wearing a black pea coat over a sweater of the same color. Of course he still wore his usual high top converse shoes but only now realized that he was wearing the ones with light up soles and had forgotten to turn them off. He had no free hands to turn them off so he raised an eyebrow in thought as he wondered if Amelia would think it was weird. He looked over his shoulder at Max who clearly knew what he was thinking but only lifted his arms in a shrug. Well that wasn't helpful.

---

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Amelia had been feeling nervous; she could feel the palm of her hands sweating. Charlie had invited her for a family holiday with the Carrington's...whilst she was more than happy to go and support him. She was also freaking out internally...she had only known his sister Olivia, As she had an internship at Vogue. It was all thanks for Charlie and his good word; as he knew how much she liked fashion. It was her dream, joy and hobby. But not really knowing much about his family...his parents in particular-besides what she heard and seen on the news. She just felt nervous...for him, as well as for herself. His parents seemed rather intimidating in the news...in person...it'd be much worse. Right?

Charlie had been her friend for years and Amelia knew that he was probably nervous himself. She tried to make a mental note, to keep calm for his sake. It was the least she could do. But the sudden thought of him asking her to the this trip dawned on her...did he mean to take her as more than a friend? The thought made her blush, as she had been sporting a secret crush on Charlie for a while now. Of course...Amelia had kept it to herself...not knowing if Charlie viewed her more than a friend or not. She didn't want to ruin what friend-ship they had. As he meant a lot to her. Despite his strange...awkward ways, she loved him for who he was. He was sweet...shy, smart. Bit too silent at times, but at least he listened. Closing her bag up...Amelia was packed for the entire holiday...including her Christmas Gifts for Charlie. She had gotten him a few comics, the new Avengers film and a poster to go with it.

Hearing the door; she called out softly. "I'm coming!"

With her bag in her hands, the small blonde rushed downstairs in excitement to see her friend. Her blonde hair in curls, falling around the curves of her face in perfection. Wearing a dress, with tights, high heel boots and a winter coat on top. Amelia wrapped a scarf around her neck. With her bag in her hand, she opened the door to see Charlie waiting for her holding boxes. She smiled softly. "Do you need any help with that?" she asked and she noticed some strange lighting coming from his shoes. She tilted her head slightly, in curiosity as it took her a while to figure out it was one of his special lace up's that lit up. "Forgot to turn them off?" she asked, nodding down to his shoes with a smile.

Charlie smiled at Amelia for a long and awkward few seconds as he tried to think of something witty to say to explain his shoes. In his head, he pictured the cadences of some smart and funny explanation but the words just weren't there. His eyes slowly drifted from her to the door beside her but snapped back as he said simply "Nope."

Nailed it.

He practically shoved his gifts towards her and said "These are for you." As she took them from him, he continued with a shrug "Just some stuff I thought you'd like." His lips then tightened together as he wondered for a moment if she actually would like this stuff or if it was just things he liked. He then realized he was being awkward again and forced a smile. "You don't have to open them now...if you don't want to."

"So...you always walk around with lit up shoes?" Amelia asked...with a teasing tone. But she smiled at him, not meaning anything harsh by that comment. Just being playful.

Amelia smiled and looked a little surprised as he shoved the boxes into her hands. "You shouldn't have...I mean...you didn't have to." she said holding the boxes. She had already received a gift, which she was sure took a lot of time and effort to find. Plus the money. But she blushed as she saw his look, seeing his forced smile. She returned a soft smile. "Umm...thanks. I'll have a look in the car." she muttered softly. She held the boxes in her hand and she smiled at him gently. "Could you give me a hand...please?" she asked, nodding over to her bag.

Charlie rolled his eyes as Amelia poked fun at him. It wasn't the first time and he knew it wouldn't be the last. If it were anyone else he may have reacted differently but he knew Amelia was just playing around. When she took the gifts from him, he bent low to switch off his geek shoes. All at once, he looked much less strange and when he returned to his full height he gave Amelia a much more genuine smile.

"Certainly m'lady" he said when asked to help with Amelia's bag. He stepped inside to grab it and was quickly out again. He turned back to Amelia and offered her his arm as he said "Be careful. It's icy here...Someone might slip." He heard Max cough to once again cover a laugh as he started towards them, no doubt to take Amelia's bag from Charlie.

One of the great things about being close; was that they could tease each other and only mean it in a fun...friendly way. Amelia returned the soft and genuine smile, once he straightened up again. As he took her bag-she giggled and blushed as he called her m'lady. "Why thank you, Mr Charlie." she offered a soft sweet smile. Playfully bumping her hip with his.

Linking her arm with his carefully, still holding the boxes she carefully followed him after she closed the door to her house. As he warned her about the icy patch, she heard Max cough. Amelia rose a slight eyebrow at the driver...it seemed like he found something amusing. She didn't think, the driver was coming to greet her, but rather take her bags.

Charlie handed Amelia's bags to Max who quickly turned around and headed to the already popped trunk where he placed them with care. Charlie took his time leading Amelia towards the car. Mostly to avoid slipping again, he was not wearing the most practical of shoes after all, but also to give Max a chance to get back around and open the car door for them. He had already annoyed Max once today with the door thing. No need to do it again. Max gave Charlie a narrow eyed smile as two teenagers got into the back of the car and closed the door behind them.

Inside the car, Charlie shifted in his seat and fidgetted with his jacket. It was new and this was the first time he had worn it. He wanted to look good when he met his family but felt weird. He normally dressed in much more casual gear. Only when he stopped fidgeting and looked at Amelia did he realize how uncomfortable she looked too. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned for her.

Amelia muttered a soft thank you, as Max took her bags. With Charlie's help...she got into the bag of the car, setting the boxes down on her lap. But she was strangely silent-not taking notice of the driver's looks. Staring at the patterns of the back of the seat...she bit her lower lip. Thinking about the trip and how everything would turn out. She felt the palms of her hands beginning sweat, as she thought about facing his parents...face to face. The two intimidating and cold figures they seemed to be...even in the papers.

The thoughts making her head spin a little-looking bit pale and freaked out. "Huh...what?" Charlie's words snapped her out of her freak-out. Looking over at him, unsure of what he had asked her.

Charlie tilted his head slightly at Amelia as Max started to drive off, heading now towards the airport. Amelia seemed to be in a world of her own for a moment. Which was odd because that was normally Charlie's thing. Drifting off into his own thoughts. He knew the look all too well. He thought about repeating his question but he knew Amelia well enough to know what she was thinking right now. So instead he put a hand gently atop hers and said "Relax. This is supposed to be a vacation. You don't need to be nervous about meeting my family. It's going to be me they're judging. Not you."

He flashed Amelia his best smile to reassure her that everything was okay but at the same time realized that he probably had less to be worried about than most of his siblings. He had been living with his parents...sort of...so meeting them at the airport wasn't really a big deal. Some of his other family, like Mari and Tatiana, he already knew well so he didn't have to be nervous around them. It was really only some of the older siblings he was nervous to meet. That realization made him relax slightly. But not entirely.

Feeling his comforting hand on her's; Amelia managed a soft smile towards Charlie. Squeezing his hand softly in return, she took a deep breath. "I am not so sure about that....they might judge me as well..." she muttered, more to herself than to Charlie. But she knew he heard her nonetheless. It was true...nothing was stopping anyone from judging her...especially his parents. And that's what worried her. But the thought of it being a Vacation made her lean back against her seat, trying to relax. 'Maybe it won't be so bad....just relax Lia. Charlie's there with you...it'll be fine, if you two stick together'. a voice rung inside of her head.

Glancing over at him softly, she returned the soft smile. "Thanks...you're always a good friend. I guess, I am just a little anxious about meeting everyone at once." she admitted-of course she knew Olivia having been working for her at Vogue, but the others; not really. She had only heard so much from Charlie, or seen Marisol in magazines. Amelia seemed to follow her modeling career, like a few fans. Liking her style in clothes. Taking a few deep breaths, Amelia tried to calm down and relax, trying to think of the vacation; the places they would see and not the stress of meeting everyone for this family gathering.

After a few moments, Amelia decided to open the boxes. Taking a look inside to see what Charlie had brought her.

Charlie didn't want to admit it to Amelia but she was probably right. His parents probably would judge her a little. But they judged everyone. It was what they did. It was their thing. A thing Charlie never really understood. The hierarchy of wealth confused him. Why did having more money than someone else entitle you to judge others like they were somehow less than you?

He remembered the way his parents would occasionally treat some of their staff. They were usually good enough to people that showed them respect but there was always that air of superiority. He remembered the way family friends would look down on those less privileged than them. He had grown up around this kind of attitude but the older he got, the more it annoyed him. Charlie had always been friendly with the various staff hired by the Carringtons as he had spent more time with them than even his own parents. It annoyed him when people looked down on them for their station and the idea of anyone judging Amelia just made him angry.

He tensed slightly at the thought but reminded himself that they had no reason to judge her. She was great.

When Amelia picked up one of her gifts and began to unwrap it, Charlie smiled slightly. The gifts were only small things but he hoped she liked them anyway. The pink leafed bonsai tree was pretty. He knew she liked pretty things. The zombie gnome was supposed to represent their combined eccentric interests. And the lego candy was just fun and quirky.

Amelia flashed Charlie a soft, gentle smile as she unwrapped the first box. Popping the box open; Amelia took out the pink bonsai tree, smiling as she saw it light up. "Aww, that's so pretty." she smiled. Amelia being the girly-girl she was; liked pretty much anything that was pretty, pink and sparkly. The little tree was cute, and she knew just where she would put it. She had a perfect place for it, in her secret space in her bedroom. But that would have to wait, until the vacation was over.

Looking through the two boxes, Amelia giggled and smiled when she saw the Zombie Gnome. It was an interesting combination, but it seemed to fit her and Charlie's interests perfectly-they were both different, unique but best friends. And this was the perfect symbol of their friendship and their interests. Upon seeing the quirky Candy, she smiled as she felt her stomach rumble slightly."Oohh yummy..want a piece?" she asked, offering Charlie one with a smile.

She reached over, squeezing his hand as a thank-you with a bright beaming smile. "Thanks, these are great. I love them." Amelia really did. Even though they were unusual, that's what she liked. Even though Amelia was not a fan of Zombies, it was the symbol being the hybrid gnome and the sentiment that meant a lot. Every gift meant something to her.

Happily plucking the piece of candy from Amelia's fingers, Charlie beamed. He was glad she liked even these small gifts. He wondered then if his parents had liked theirs as much. His gift to his father had been a model train that he had built himself. He was very proud of that one. A lot of blood, sweat and tears had gone into that gift. Literally. Some of the inner workings still had his blood on them

His mother's gift had been hand crafted too and would probably at some point have someone else's blood on it. He had built her a palm sized miniature crossbow. Even Charlie wasn't entirely clear on the sentiment behind this gift. Maybe he thought she could use it to kill someone who annoyed her. It seemed like the kind of thing she would do. He just hoped it wasn't him.

As he sat there, thinking about his parents gifts, he stared at the odd little block of candy in his hand. He hadn't really thought about it until now but biting into what looked like a Lego block seemed counter intuitive. A part of his brain yelled at stop while another told him it was fine. He eventually plopped the whole thing in his mouth, hoping that he didn't shatter a tooth.

The rest of the car ride seemed to pass pretty quickly as Charlie and Amelia distracted one another by discussing their gifts. Charlie loved his comics. He was a sucker for that kind of stuff and as such was easy to please. They discussed the mini planetarium projector Charlie had bought Amelia and he promised to tell her the names of all the stars when they got home. They also discussed the latest episode of their favorite tv show, which prompted Charlie to go off on a ramble about the characters. Before they knew it, the car had stopped and Max was opening the door for them. Max had won this round.

The pair were quickly whisked through security, bypassing many of the standard security protocols that normal people would have to pass through. Charlie felt slightly uncomfortable with this. What if he had been carrying a bomb? He wasn't but they didn't know that. When they emerged from the other side of the building, they were both surprised to find Max standing beside what looked to be the very same car they had arrived in. Charlie suspected that the whole process of passing through security had been more to satisfy him than anything else. They were quickly bundled into the back and driven across the tarmac to the Carrington's private air palace jet. This time, Charlie deliberately waited for Max to open the door. He knew his parents were standing there watching and he didn't want to give them any reason to think Max wasn't doing his job properly. When the door opened, Charlie stepped outside and before even looking at the group of family standing near the jet, offered his hand to Amelia to help her out. Only when they were both out and Max had retrieved their bags from the trunk did he turn to look at his family. Great. No sign of any of the siblings he actually knew yet. He wished Mari or even Liv were here right now. It would make this so much easier.

Hand in hand with Amelia, squeezing her hand perhaps a little too tightly, he walked from the car towards the group standing nearby. "Mother, father...Assorted others." he offered by way of greeting, not really sure how to address anyone without sounding strange.

---

---

Hours of training and practice had done nothing to clear Tatiana’s mind and she sat there on the end of her couch; letting out a long sigh that echoed through her small apartment as she ran her fingers through her hair. She just stared at the package before her, it hadn’t moved from the coffee table since it had arrived and she had initially opened it. She wasn’t sure what to think about any of it. It was as grand as anything she would expect from her parents and to any other but their own children it would have seemed a bit over the top but that was what her family did best; they did things as if they were royalty. In a way they were; money bought status and they had more than enough in that department.

Reaching down she picked up the letter and reread it, an heir.. That was what this was about? Of course it was, it couldn’t have been more than that. What would happen to their precious company or their money when they died? They had seemed to always pay more attention to it than their children. Shaking her head she dropped the letter back on top of the tickets and shook her head slightly. Should she even go? What was the point? She had written off ever seeing them again long ago, she wanted nothing to do with their money; something she had made very clear the day she moved out.

Then came the thought that there was maybe something more going on, the gifts slightly fueling the thought. The gifts made her think; ballet shoes. Why would they send her these after all the years that had passed? Her chance had been blown when the incident happened. It had taken her so long to be strong enough to stand on toe point again and by the time she could she was living on her own and scraping the bottom of the barrel. Did they know what all she had been up to over the years? What all she had kept hidden? Was this their way of telling her? Of saying, ”Yes Tatiana, we know what you have tried to keep hidden.” So many questions, all she was too afraid to ask and even more afraid of the answer.

Then there were the cookies. Why on earth would they send her cookies? She weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, looked nearly emaciated to any outside of the ballet industry. Keeping ones weight down was part of the drill. You never ate sweets; at most you held them to yours nose, inhaled deeply and then tossed them into the trash before you could be tempted to take even the smallest bite. Maybe they didn’t know; a thought which half relieved her worry.

The nail on the coffin as it were was personal letter. She wondered if perhaps they had been possessed when they wrote it or hired a ghost writer. Was there actually a sense of pride, in what she had done growing up and since then, in the words or was she placing too much in reading between the lines. The thoughts and questions made her head spin as she placed a cigarette between her lips and lit it, taking a deep inhalation. Then her mind froze as a single thought passed through. What if all of this was because one of them was ill and they needed to tie up loose ends as quickly as possible?

The thought made Tatiana sick to her stomach and her complexion go sour. She had lived through the loss of one set of parents already, could she handle losing another? Even though they had had their falling out, she still loved them; well her father anyways. She had never known what to think of her adopted mother and many of times the word loathe had passed through her mind but even the thoughts of losing the great Cassiopeia Carrington affected her more than she had expected; the thought pained her in ways she hadn’t imagined.

So that was that, she would go; she had to but she needed someone to go with her. Who on earth could she get to go with her into this madness? She couldn’t take anyone she was close to, they might unintentionally let on to what she had been up to. That’s how it started, a late night google search and falling into the desperate hell that was Craigslist. That’s where she found Wyatt and persuaded him to come along with her for a substantial amount of money. She played it off that the fee she was paying him was a drop in the bucket but in truth it was her life savings. What else could she do? This was a once in a lifetime thing, she might as well use what she had had scrimped and pinched together over the last decade. If she didn’t make it out of this little family get together alive, what use would it be to her anyways?

---

---

This was bad.

– Wait, scratch that. This was downright catastrophic.

What kind of restaurant took a month long Christmas break? Wyatt wanted nothing more than to scream at the people in charge, but that would result in him getting fired, so he promptly pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

He was a calm, rational adult, for God’s sake. The restaurant owners were a married couple – nice people, even by Canadian standards, which was really saying something. What good would it do to take out his undying rage on them?

Then again, this basically meant that he was going to lose his job for a month, except for the fact he wasn’t technically fired because they were just taking – and he quotes: “four weeks off to visit our family in Boston.”

Boston.

That was only an eight-hour drive across the border, and arguably one of America’s most boring cities. For what earthly reason would they need to spend an entire month in Boston? Wyatt had to fight the urge to ring them up and shoot them a not-so-friendly reminder that Christmas only lasted a day. Maybe if they’d made an announcement earlier, he would’ve been able to come up with a back-up plan before the world as he knew it came crashing down around him.

...Okay, so maybe he was being a tad melodramatic. But unemployment was no laughing matter, he’ll have you know. After work, Wyatt had spent the previous night (or morning, it was 2 A.M.) chain smoking in a filthy back alley together with one of his line cook pals, complaining about the prospect of having to find a new job on such short notice. Obviously, it didn’t accomplish a goddamned thing, but it was a strange sort of respite; having someone be in the same predicament as you.

There was only one thing left Wyatt could do now, really – and it wasn’t going out to look for a legitimate job, because that’d take him at least a fortnight, and even that was being optimistic. No, he was going to trawl through the cesspool that was Craigslist, in the hopes of finding a somewhat respectable method of keeping his income afloat. Granted, Craigslist probably wasn’t the best place to look, but he figured he’d work his way up from there.

Fishing an iPhone 3G out of his pocket, Wyatt settled down on the creaking, moth-eaten couch, and sprawled across it like a long-limbed octopus. It took a while of scrolling, but he finally found something of value, and just in time, too. He was this close to giving up the endeavour (and also humanity). The ad that he’d stopped on, on the other hand, was almost too good to be true. An all expense paid trip to London, no payment required? He was surprised that no one had snapped up the offer yet. Of course, the first emotion that welled up within him was suspicion, and perhaps a sprinkle of intrigue. After all, he’d watched enough CSI to realise that this was the kind of thing that got people murdered.

But a part of him had latched onto that tiny glimmer of hope, and before he knew it, he was tapping out an email to this mysterious Russian maiden.

...At least he hoped it was a maiden. Nobody ever lied on the Internet, right?

---

---

The entire week flew by like a freight train. Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to stop, he took up the deal on Craigslist, which very, very fortunately, turned out to be legitimate. He travelled across the border to NYC, met up with Tatiana at her tattoo parlour, and to put the icing on the cake, he nearly got himself killed in a drunken bar fight.

New York really was The City of Dreams.

It was just a shade off 10 A.M. when Wyatt trundled down to the hotel lobby, suitcase in tow, eyes groggy with sleep. After last night’s impromptu shopping trip with Tatiana, trawling through dozens and dozens of pastel-hued polos, and pop quizzes on her personal life, he’d fallen unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow.

What did it say about him - that the trip hadn’t even started yet, and he was already halfway to exhausted? For a brief moment, he could’ve sworn he felt a twinge of longing for his much less glamorous line cook career. Compared to visiting every store in NYC that carried branded goods (spending a minimum of an hour at each), mincing vegetables until his fingers bled didn’t seem so terrible anymore. At least back in Toronto, he didn’t have the time nor the money to get blackout drunk every night.

But hey, if anyone asks, he was just getting into character, and he was going to need a few stiff drinks to deal with the Carringtons, if they were anything like how they appeared on TV.

As he trudged across the lobby, Wyatt suddenly remembered how he had to throw out a pair of perfectly good jeans to make room for his new ‘disgustingly-nouveau-riche-golf-dad-who-spends-far-too-much-time-at-his-country-club-sipping-mimosas-and-laughing-too-loudly-at-the-proletariat’ get-up.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little on the nose, but what can you do? Just look at what he was wearing; a powder pink polo from Ralph Lauren, khaki shorts from Dockers, a pair of Oxfords from Westwood, and to top it all of, a Cartier wristwatch. Wyatt was certain he looked as much a caricature of the bourgeoisie as he felt, but that was what he’d been told to wear, and he tugged anxiously at his collar whilst he debated the merits of firing up a smoke.

Which, of course, was an endeavour he gave up on the moment he pulled out his lighter, and the concierge shot him a suitably withering look.

God, where the hell was Tatiana?

---

---

Tatiana sat in the back of the town car, chain smoking, as it traveled towards Wyatt’s hotel; the day had finally arrived. The whole week had been a whirlwind of activity as she struggled to make sure he knew what he needed to so that he could pass off as her boyfriend and at least play the part. Between that and both her jobs she felt as burned out as the numerous cigarette butts she flicked out the car window. Her heart was fluttering like that of hummingbirds wings but she wasn’t about to let that show on the outside.

Wyatt seemed okay; he was a bit overbearing and didn’t know when to hold his tongue but at least he hadn’t tried to harvest her kidneys yet. So that was at least a positive thing out of all this mess. Rubbing her face slightly as the car pulled up and waited for the driver to open the door. Stepping out, she instructed him to wait a moment as she went in to find Wyatt. Thankfully he seemed ready to go when she entered the lobby and she had to smirk slightly as she looked him over. This might actually work; well that is what she kept telling herself. Inside she had a bad feeling that this was going to blow up in her face in the most horrible way possible but there was no turning back now.

“Morning Vyatt, car is outside vaiting. Ready to go?” she asked with a forced confidence.

Wyatt had to heave a sigh of relief when Tatiana finally strolled through the doors of the hotel lobby. Truth be told, he was getting a little uncomfortable, and the fact that he couldn’t smoke made things a whole lot worse. In the time he’d spent waiting, he’d almost made good on the idea of making a run for it, but the realisation that he could probably be arrested for fraud was a testament to how he was already in too deep.

“Yeah, totally.” Wyatt replied, in a tone that suggested that he was not, in fact, ready. On the contrary, he was this close to having a mental breakdown. This was literally the first time he’d even left Canada, and now, he was hours away from a month long trip across Europe. To say that the whole experience felt like something out of a drunken, cheese-fuelled fever dream would be the understatement of the century. But right now, all he could do was pin all his hopes on the theory that if you said something enough times, it was sure to come true.

Getting up from his seat, he brushed some imaginary lint off his clothes, and flashed Tatiana a sheepish smile. “Guess it’s too late to turn back now, huh?”

“Vell, if you run, take me vith you,” Tatiana stated with a nervous laugh. This was not something she wanted to do alone and in all honesty she had enjoyed the last week with Wyatt. She half wished she had met him under normal circumstances but with being a child of the Carringtons was normal even possible? Taking a deep breath she huffed slightly as she looked at him before motioning for the door.

“Let’s go before either of us decides to bolt,” she said as she headed out of the hotel lobby.

Wyatt couldn’t help but agree. The sooner they got on a plane, the less time they had to regret their decisions. Right now, a pressurised, metal deathtrap hurtling through the aether was just what he needed to soothe his nerves.

The driver opened the door for them and took Wyatt's bags to place in the trunk with Tatianas. Tatiana climbed into the car and flopped back against the seat, immediately lighting up two cigarette’s and holding one out for Wyatt as she puffed on hers like an epileptic steam engine, thick trails of smoke floating up and out the partially opened window. Her nerves were more than starting to show.

Shooting the driver a quick nod of thanks, he clambered into the car, and he had to wonder whether this he was same guy that’d picked him up from the airport in first day in NYC. The car was the same, at least - all tinted windows, and a shiny, black paint job, though he didn’t quite manage to catch the license plate. Then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was different car entirely. They all looked the same to him.

This enthralling train of thought, however was interrupted by the offer of a much-needed cigarette. Almost too quickly, he’d taken it from Tatiana’s hand, slid it between his teeth, and inhaled. As the nicotine-tainted smoke filled his lungs, Wyatt let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction. It wasn’t the brand he was used to, but right now, he really couldn’t complain.

“Thanks. I needed that.” He finally said, after a long moment, clouds of swirling smoke escaping with every syllable. Tatiana heard his thanks but could only give him a half-hearted nod in reply, her thoughts were elsewhere right then. When he saw that Tatiana, too, was puffing away on her own cigarette, his lips quirked in a wry half-smile. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who was freaking out about this.

As he turned to look out the window, all he saw was the New York cityscape whiz past, and somehow, he felt slightly better about all this. The key word here was of course, “slightly” - because don’t get him wrong, deep down, he was still having a mental breakdown, but pretending that everything was just fine was actually working. Maybe with a couple more cigarettes, he’d be back to his normal self. Couldn’t hurt to try, right?

Still, when he turned his attention back to Tatiana, Wyatt couldn’t stop himself from blurting out the first thing that came to mind. Tatiana sat there puffing away on her cigarette, it never leaving the space between her lips as she continuously cracked her knuckles.

“Hey, uh, you doing okay?”

It wasn’t until Wyatt spoke that she seemed to snap out of her internal panic. Forcing a bit of a shaky laugh from between her teeth as she finally removed what was left of the cancer stick from between her lips. Flicking the butt out the window, she lit another and placed the pack with the lighter shoved inside it on Wyatts thigh in case he wanted another.

“Not really,” she answered truthfully as she leaned back and rested her head against his shoulder. They were going to have to play the couple role soon enough, might as well start right then. Tucking her legs under her she stared blankly in front of herself at the partition between them and the driver.

Wyatt was more than a little surprised when Tatiana laid her head on his shoulder, but apart from a slight stiffening of the muscles, and a tiny intake of breath, he didn’t let his hesitation show. The redhead looked as if she were deep in thought, staring into infinity as the car drove smoothly along. For a moment, he felt like he should probably say something, though his contemplation was cut short when she finally decided to speak up.

“Been twelve years since I’ve seen or spoken vith them,” she added after a long moment of silence. “I vas only their daughter eight years before I left. Vhy they vant to see me now?” she pondered outloud. Sighing deeply she took another long drag from the cigarette before closing her eyes. “I hope the bar is stocked on the flight, I need drink,” she muttered under her breath.

Hearing Tatiana talk about her parents, Wyatt was suddenly reminded of his own. How long had it been since he last saw them? Four, five years? After he got out of prison, he had tried to go back home, but after a few minutes of uneasy conversation, it was clear he wasn’t welcome. At that point, there really wasn’t anything he could do but leave. The look on his parents’ faces when he showed up on their doorstep was evidence enough.

Wyatt felt a jealous sort of resentment well up in him, as he thought about what Tatiana had said. Over the past week, he’d learnt quite a bit about Tatiana and her family. The Carringtons must’ve surely had their own problems, but none of them seemed serious enough to drive a wedge between them like it had. Why did people have to be so damned stubborn? If they only knew what they had, then they’d think twice about taking it all for granted.

With a slight grimace, Wyatt settled further into his seat, eyes fixed on the scenery whizzing past. “Yeah, me too.”

Tatiana sat there, leaning against Wyatt, and remained silent for the rest of the trip to the airport. At that point she wasn’t sure there was really anything else to say and she was trying to calm her nerves but it was to no avail. It had been more than a decade since she had spoken to, much less seen her parents; what was she supposed to say to them after all these years? “Vhy the sudden contact? One of you dying?” was what she feared would be the first thing to pop out of her mouth. She wasn’t exactly known for her grace when it came to her words and personality; all that was funneled into her dance.

The rest of the trip passed rather uneventfully, with Wyatt spending the majority of his time smoking in silence. There was an uneasy tension in the air - whenever he felt like making a comment, something deep within him told him not to. To say he was the wrong man for the job would would be more than an understatement - teetering dangerously on the edge of absurd. He wasn’t sensitive, he wasn’t kind, and he sure as hell wasn’t polite. More often than not, the things he said only added fuel to the fire, but he just never learned.

Then again, maybe his reluctance to change pointed at a different cause altogether. Maybe he just liked getting into trouble.

---

---

Arriving at the airport, Tatiana slid out of the car and found her hands trembling; she had not been this nervous in so very long; the last time was in her first lead. She had nearly thrown up behind stage and feared she would wear the thin soles of her pointe shoes through with the amount of pacing she did before the curtain opened. And that night her parents weren’t even there to add to the pressure of being on stage as far as she knew. This time they would be there for her entrance, as well as her siblings.

The entire thing made her stomach churn. The butterflies in her stomach right then was far worse than that night had been and she had an ominous feeling that this trip was not going to end as wonderfully as that night on stage had. Letting out a shaky breath, she took Wyatt’s hand, squeezing it slightly.

“Don’t let go,” she pleaded before they were lead through security, and at this point, there really wasn’t anything he could do but oblige.

Tatiana was held up a bit at one point, her Russian accent seeming to draw attention as well as her birthplace on her passport; Tajikistan. With everything that happened since 9/11, having been born in a former part of the U.S.S.R. that was Islamic heavy seemed to not settle right with some of the TSA folk; combining this with her being a not-by-birth Carrington rose several questions. This had not happened when she was younger but then she had always had either one of her adopted parents with her or a sibling or a known staff member. Though traveling since she moved out had caused a few issues in the past, she had half expect this when they arrived.

This was not what she needed right then though, she was already nervous and blowing up at security, like she would normally do, was the last thing she needed to do. With all the tension over the last week, prepping Wyatt about her past and who each of her family members where she had forgotten to bring her usual arsenal of birth certificate and adoption papers. Though in the back of her mind she wondered if she should just cause a scene, maybe they would take off without her and she wouldn’t have to go on this vacation.

Quite surprisingly, Wyatt managed to get through customs without much of a problem. His flight from Toronto, however, was a different story. Courtesy of his status as a convicted felon, he’d been put through a whole rigmarole of unnecessary bag checks and pat downs, which was probably why the plane had almost departed without him. Of course, complaining was the stupidest thing he could’ve done, so he was left with no choice but to grit his teeth and suck it up. Getting detained by security was not on his itinerary.

Now, despite having done nothing wrong, Wyatt still felt a little uneasy when he stepped past a metal detector, half-expecting the thing to go off. What if someone had planted a pair of nail clippers on him? Could nail clippers even be used as a weapon? Had there ever been a case of death by nail clippers? His increasingly absurd concerns, however, soon proved to be unfounded, because the machine had let him by without a single peep.

Standing there, with his carry-ons in hand, Wyatt just waited for Tatiana to get through as well. He wasn’t sure why, but the security seemed fixated on the redhead, and it took them a couple more minutes before they were good to go.

Getting through security took longer than she had wanted but then again it hadn’t taken nearly long enough; seemed they would make the flight after all. Stepping outside Tatiana froze as she saw her parents in the distance, standing at the top of the stairs; her hand falling to Wyatt’s arm and squeezing tightly as she stood there like a frightened bird. It was as if she was waiting for them to strike and devour her. The only solace she found was in seeing at least a couple of siblings she had kept in contact with and the fact that Wyatt was there beside her; he might have been the best choice but having someone there with her was better than nothing.

While Wyatt might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. The only times he’d seen them was on TV, and he’d always changed the channel in favour of something a little more interesting, but with Tatiana standing there, rooted to the spot like a deer in headlights, he’d wager the two figures standing atop the stairs must’ve been her parents.

“Vyatt, I don’t think I can do this….” she half whispered. She didn’t know if she was gripping his arm in hopes he would push her forward to actually get on the plane or if he would understand and just tell her to run; it was a coin toss at this point.

Truth be told, Wyatt should’ve been terrified. Standing just about a dozen yards away from them, were the heads of the Carrington clan, arguably one of the richest, and most influential families of the United States. But now that he was here, he almost felt a little ridiculous, having spent the previous week freaking out over this exact moment. Above the noise of the airport, he could hear Tatiana say something to him - something about not being able to do this.

For a long moment, he didn’t do or say anything. Tatiana was clearly waiting for him to make a decision, and the last thing he wanted to do was rush into the fray without thinking about the consequences. However, she did seem like she was about two seconds away from bolting, so he knew time was a luxury he didn’t have.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Tatiana, bending down a little so they were at eye level. “Look, I’m probably not the best person to be telling you this, but you can’t keep running away. They’re your parents, and if you want things to get better, you’re going to have to put some effort into making them better. The fact that they invited you here - that this trip is even happening? It shows that they care.”

Tatiana looked over at him as her head cocked to the side and gave him a look that he might actually be insane to think, much less speak, that they cared. She knew at least part of what he said was the truth; she couldn’t keep running and hiding her life in the shadows, too afraid of what they might say or think. She had done that every day since she left home and it was exhausting. The look of shock slowly faded and she gave a slight nod as she bit her bottom lip.

“Hell, I’m willing to bet they’re just as nervous about this as you are.” He punctuated the sentence with a quick nod towards the two figures, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk.

“You think? Them nervous? I don’t think that vord is in their vocabulary,” she said with a mirrored smirk on her lips. Patting his arm lightly she nodded. “Okay, here ve go,” Tatiana added before looking back over at the statuesque pair and letting out a long shaky breath before finally taking a step and closing the distance between herself and them. Each step seemed to feel as if she was wading through quicksand and she half wished the ground would just open up and swallow her whole; no such luck.

Wyatt swore, Tatiana’s trepidation hung so thick and heavy in the air that he could slice it with a butterknife. It was exceedingly clear that she was not looking forward to this meeting, but perhaps a small part of her did. Otherwise, she would not have accepted the invitation, since he highly doubted someone was holding a gun to her head when she made the decision to come. To be honest, he found it rather difficult to fathom just what caused this family to drift apart like they have. For God’s sake, they had the entire world on a string - you’d think something like that would make things easier, not the other way around.

As they approached she took note that only a handful were there so far. Her eldest sister Samantha had already arrived and she looked about as unnerved as Tatiana felt. Daniel was there, of course he was, he was always so punctual. She gave the two a slight glance as she walked; she didn’t exactly have the best relationship with either of them but perhaps this trip would be a chance to work on that; a side task outside of just being there and dealing with their parents. Who knew the thought of arguing with Daniel or Sam would be a point of relaxation at this point.

Then she saw Avery and Charlie; a genuine smile coming to her lips as she looked at each of them; especially when she looked at Charlie. So many fond memories came to her mind as she looked at him. She clearly remembered the day he was brought home; how she would shove the nannies away and dote over him. Sitting there telling him stories about the places in the U.S.S.R.; he had always been so curious. A little too much at times but she sidestep the topics that made her uncomfortable and keep going. Reaching out as they passed him and his companion for the trip, she cupped his cheek and gave him a reassuring pat for a brief second.

By now, Wyatt was past the point of worrying. Maybe he was just in some frantic state of denial, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed the Carringtons were just normal people, like him. Honestly, he didn’t quite know what to expect when he agreed to this, though it seemed that everything was going smoothly, so far. Well, apart from Tatiana’s miniature breakdown back there, but he thought it wise not to bring it up again. He didn’t quite know who they were - the others that were there - but logic dictated that they, too, were part of the family. The quick, near-imperceptible glance that Tatiana shot the bespectacled gentleman, and the smile that crossed her lips as she grazed her fingers against another boy’s cheek were enough to confirm his suspicions.

Still, as they stood before Reginald and Cassiopeia - whom he assumed were the main culprits behind Tatiana’s anxiety - Wyatt couldn’t help but straighten his back, running a hand through his hair in an ineffectual attempt at fixing it. The two had a certain authority about them - even as they just stood there, making casual conversation amongst themselves. In that very moment, he was startlingly reminded of how it felt to be a kid again, memories of his childhood years of wreaking havoc came flooding back. Of course, he remembered an incident in middle school where he’d spat a bloody, broken incisor onto the principal’s desk as a show of rebellion, but he couldn’t exactly do that now, could he?

Then came the main act, she wished Marisol or Liv was there, they always made things easier. Tatiana slowly looked over towards her parents as her hand dropped and her features went blank. Her eyes first locked with Cassiopeia's and everything in her had to fight her normal greeting of the spiteful toned ”Cass,” but the thought that perhaps all of this was happening because she or her father was ill flooded her mind. Tatiana's composure changed nearly instantly; her shoulders went back, her head held high, she looked as if she was taking first position on stage and about to embark on the most tedious dance of her life. She was silent for what seemed like an eternity before her lips parted and she finally spoke; her accent still thick with her homelands accent.

“Mama,” was all she said and she shocked herself as the word left her lips. In all her life she had never referred to Cassiopeia as mama, it was always Cass or Mother; each term slipping off her tongue like acid. When she had spoken just then though, it wasn’t. It was not warm and loving by any stretch of the imagination but it was at least neutral with a hint of caring in it. With what Wyatt had said still ringing in her mind she figured after all these years she could at least give her adopted mother an olive branch.

Really, it was all Wyatt could do to watch on. Despite every fibre of his being telling him otherwise, it wasn’t his place to speak. If they wanted things to go smoothly, then the best course of action would be to smile, nod, and not say a word. He was, however, a little thrown off by how Tatiana addressed Cassiopeia. From what he had heard, they weren’t exactly on the best of terms. It wasn’t what he was expecting, that’s for sure, but it wasn’t tinged with the reluctant, caustic tone of hostility, either. A quick sideways glance at Tatiana, and he felt certain she was as surprised as he was.

Glancing over at Reginald she still felt nervous, she always had in front of him; she figured most people were that way around him; except for Cassiopeia that was. And yet now that she had greeted her mother, seeing her father was a bit easier and she relaxed; only in the slightest. “Papa,” she said towards him in the same tone as she had addressed her mother.

“Sorry I late, security held me up,” she explained, the words coming out a bit quicker than she had liked. She wasn’t sure what else to say then she snapped out of her nervousness for a split second to remember she wasn’t alone. “This is Vyatt Rothenberg,” she added as she began to introduce them. “My boyfriend,” she lied and hoped they wouldn’t pick up on it.

“Vyatt, this is Reginald and Cassiopeia Carrington, my parents,” she said, trying to get the introductions over with as quickly as possible. Right then she wanted to slip into the airplane, find the bar, light a cigarette and get this flight over with. Could the entire clan actually get through the flight to Europe without killing one another? Maybe they all should have taken different flights. Would have been safer; at least for anything breakable that was within arms reach of the more colorful of the Carringtons.

Well, this was it. Wyatt knew he couldn’t just stand there like a statue. He needed to say something, introduce himself, before Reginald and Cassiopeia thought he was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Reaching out, he offered the two a handshake. This was what people did, right? He had to admit, his people skills were a little rusty, but as far as he was concerned, what could go wrong with a handshake?

“It’s an honour to meet you, sir, ma’am.” The way he said it, it sounded almost rehearsed - and if he was going to be honest, he did, in fact, spend an hour or two practicing various styles of greeting in front of the hotel mirror. His wide, artless smile, on the other hand, was something that came naturally, but he didn’t let it linger too long, instead dimming it down to a tight-lipped grin. Wyatts next words nearly caused Tatiana to choke, “I’ve heard so much about you from Tatiana - only good things, of course.” All she could do was stand there and force a smile to her lips, plastering a look of agreement to her features and praying that they could hide in the luggage compartment of the plane at this point.

---

---

"You're such a nerd!"

Gabriel could still feel the heat on his face, something he couldn't blame on the cold this time. Every clack of his work shoes against the tiled floor of D.C.'s airport hammered another memory and another that reddened his cheeks more. A few people passing gave him a look, something he should have thought as curios concern, but felt more like judgment. And thus, that could be the reason why Gabriel rammed head first into an idol civilian. Something one should not do in a crowded airport: walk in a brisk manner with their head down.

A month prior, Gabriel received a letter of note with the Carrington seal directly emblazoned on the bill. Inside were stuffed a letter and two plane tickets, along with a notice to RSVP. At that point in time, Gabriel had a good standing with his parents. Good as in, he sent them postcards and refused to take their calls. To Reginald and Cassiopeia, that was better than nothing, which meant they likely felt it wasn't an inconvenience to notify him of a month long trip.

Damn parents better be proud he worked long enough and could be considered dedicated enough to have earned two months vacation.

However, the package had come at a delay. Not a few hours ago, when Gabriel met with his SES to determine whether he'd like his paycheck now or afterwards, the Carrington's presents decided to drop by, unnoticed. How they got his address wrong after sending the letter, and somehow had it end up at his workplace, Gabriel would not want to parse information for.

That could likely come out as one of Gabriel's most embarrassing moments. Why he decided to open it there, not even he could say. But seeing a replica of Will Smith's suit and a shiny, silver stick with a note on the back that said something cheesy, he couldn't remember, could have likely ended up a lot better than it had. Now 'Agent C' would live with him forever, just as Mulder would—the latter he liked, the former, not so much. And to make matters worse, the jacket nearly had him in tears. Luckily, he held it in before he had to leave for the plane to New York.

Now, however, with puffy red eyes and even redder cheeks, Gabriel couldn't be so sure.

And definitely not after running into—ah shit—an amputee. “Shit,” Gabriel hissed, trying to wipe the embarrassment from his face. His hand reached out, then his other, and then everything went to further shit when his bags and suitcases toppled into the dog carrier on the seat. “Fucking hell.” The dog went nuts with it’s yaps, the owner started screaming in Vietnamese, and he fucking floored the amputee straight into the ground. Would sorry even help?

What just happened? To be completely honest, Eric hadn’t really been paying attention to where he was going the past half hour or so. His mind was wandering around somewhere miles away, so when Eric felt something solid run into him he was caught completely by surprise. Unfortunately, he had tried to balance himself on his prosthetic leg on instinct, and it slipped underneath him, causing Eric to tumble rather ungracefully to the ground. If he still had his real leg, he wouldn’t have tripped. Eric was still bitter about the loss of his leg, and it didn’t help that he was already having a bad day… No. Month at this point, really.

It had all started when his asshole of a boss, the owner of the restaurant he worked at decided to suddenly renovate out of the blue. A few small renovations would be fine of course, but the owner decided to do a complete makeover of the building. The week before the renovations were supposed to begin, the owner finally decided to let the staff know that they wouldn’t be able to work for the next few months at least. Thanks for the heads up, boss. Oh, and he wouldn’t be paying him since they worked on an hourly wage. And that’s how Eric was abruptly out of a job for the foreseeable future. Then one of his close friends from culinary school managed to snag an apprenticeship in France and would be gone for the next couple of years. Eric went to go visit his friend in Washington for a couple of weeks before seeing him off an hour ago. Waving goodbye to his successful friend was rather hard for multiples of reason. He would miss that guy, and also, Eric himself was out of a job so he was insanely jealous. Eric was booked for a flight after his friend’s to go back to Chicago, but he got hopelessly lost. At this point, he probably missed it. Wonderful.

He was preoccupied with all of his misfortune, so when Eric landed in a heap on the ground, he was a bit disoriented and confused. All he heard was the high-pitched yapping of a dog, and a bunch of yelling in a different language. All he could see was a pair of long legs directly in front of him--who he ran into, perhaps? Without the grace expected from a former athlete, Eric clumsily picked himself off of the ground. “Uh, sorry about that. I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going I guess.” He said, glancing upwards towards the taller man.

Unfortunately for Gabriel, the lady hadn’t yet ceased her bickering and so all he could give in response was an unattractive cringe. Leaning as close as he can, while taming the familiarness of reaching out to pull the man closer, Gabriel maneuvered himself to stand behind the pillar the moment the lady looked away. “I’m sorry, can you…” he began, though recognition flared the moment his brain caught up, “Oh. You’re…? Uh… I mean—” A large flush took over his cheeks, and Gabriel immediately leaned back to distance himself. Fortunate that he wasn’t a man of words, Gabriel’s silence wouldn’t have been surprising to someone who knew him. Maybe that meant the same to this man, whom Gabriel hadn’t said much aside from the blatant insult.

Funny. That’s probably not something someone wants to be remembered for.

Gabriel bit his lip, pulling the bottom in to chew on out of habit. “Uh,” he opened his mouth again, but fell short with his hand in the air. After a moment’s pause he, looked at the slightly shorter individual, “Sorry?”

Eric raised an eyebrow as something tugged at the edge of his memory. Where had he heard that voice before? Everything about this man screamed familiarity, and it was just at the tip of his tongue but he still couldn’t quite name… Oh. Oh. The smell of flowers sprang into this mind, accompanied by a gentle breeze. There was a field, Eric had been lying among the grass when he had been joined by the very same person he had ran into. Eric’s eyes widened in recognition and he could only reply in a similar fashion to Gabriel. “Uh… Sorry.” As the words left his mouth, he immediately kicked himself mentally. He had already apologized, why was he doing it again!?

“What? Why are you sorry?” Gabriel chuckled, nerves spilling from his lips in rumbling waves. “I’m the one who ran into you; you were standing still.”

Almost an instant and Gabriel began again, slight desperation in his voice as if he’d lose the chance. “My name’s Gabriel, by the way, sorry. Just… I just wanted to get that out there.”

Oh, Eric wasn’t the one to walk into him? Awkward. At this point, the normally suave Eric was flustered and confused. “Um, I’m Eric. Eric Darvill. Nice to… Meet you?” Not quite knowing what to say or do, Eric simply offered his hand to Gabriel. At least a handshake was normal, right?

“Uh, yeah,” Gabriel furrowed his brows and stared bewildered at the offering. A surprise of recognition hit his face and Gabriel grasped Eric’s hand—with more enthusiasm than necessary—and flashed a bright smile. Genuine, he hoped, and almost subconscious the moment he turned to look at Eric again. “Yeah! It is. Awesome. Uh. So. Um. Wow, it’s crazy meeting you here huh?” Gabriel’s brows furrowed again and his smile faltered into a shaky grimace, “Well, running into you and your… leg.”

Eric gave a chuckle as he glanced down at his fake leg. “Ah, it’s fine. It’s not like I was particularly going anywhere anyways.” He returned Gabriel’s smile with one of his own as he floundered for a conversation topic. What are you doing here? Nah, it was an airport. There’s only a handful of reasons why people come to an airport so that would be a bad idea. The weather is always a bad choice, so don’t bring it up.

“So, uh… I didn’t expect to see you ever again, to be completely honest. Especially not here. Are you going on a trip somewhere?” Eric finally managed. Well, it didn’t turn out completely horrible. C for effort.

Guess they had the same thought. Though, maybe Gabriel seemed a tad more thrilled by the prospect, of course in this excitable moment, he can’t tell whether or not he should put the walls up. Most strangers didn’t have that effect on him, though most strangers weren’t a guy he kinda sorta super liked upon the first impression. Then again, Gabriel almost always had his guard up and maybe he should be rethinking everything he currently just did.

“I’m actually going to Europe on a family trip,” yeah, short and simple, “I have an extra ticket if you’d like to come.” Or just throw it all out the window. Gabriel paused and rubbed the back of his head, “I mean, uh, you know. Not that… like, not as my pretend boyfriend or anything, just, since you don’t seem to be doing anything in an airport, I wouldn’t mind having you tag along? I think I kinda owe you, anyway.”

“Unless you can’t in the next few months? I totally understand. Not everyone can take a day off of work. I probably shouldn’t be bothering you anyway,” Gabriel continued, stepping past Eric to gather his fallen belongings and right them before turning back to bid his farewell, “It was… um, it was really nice meeting you, Eric. Again.”

“Wait.” The word spilled from Eric’s mouth before he had a chance to fully comprehend Gabriel’s offer. Eric wasn’t a huge believer in fate, but everything was happening too perfectly. He missed his flight, he didn’t have anything to do for the next few months, and the guy that had always made him ask the question “What if” was offering him a trip to Europe--even if it was likely a joke or on a whim. It was as if the stars had lined up to make this possible.

“I’ll go.” Why the hell not? It’s not like Eric had anything to lose or do. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

Eric gave a sheepish grin, “If I’m being completely honest, I’m actually out of a job for the next few months and it was completely out of the blue so I don’t have a backup plan.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “But uh, if you don’t want to I completely understand.”
“Don’t want to?” Gabriel smiled, a little too ecstatic, with the whites of his teeth showing, “I asked didn’t I? Of course I’ll…”

He sputtered for a moment. Taking a gulp took effort, the back of his throat scratchy, with pin pricks scrunching his face in a cringe. “Yeah, I’ll have you,” Gabriel muttered, preferring to look at his hands rather than at the object of his odd affections. Maybe not affections. He didn’t know the guy, how would he even comprehend something like that? He chalked it up to sex appeal and shuffled his bags a bit before finally looking at Eric.

“Do you have enough for a month or so? If not, I have plenty of money; or my parents do, at least. I’ll get you whatever you need,” Gabriel smiled. Without another thought, he took the envelope out of his back pocket, briefly flashing the Carrington seal before hiding it in the fold of the paper. Handing the ticket to Eric never seemed so easy, and with such a certainty to his gesture, Gabriel had an unbelievably good feeling about this predicament.

“Either way, looks like you’ve got a nice vacation up ahead. I hope my company doesn’t detract from it.”

---

What the hell did he get himself into? Eric was seated in first class with a man he kind of knew (but not really), on their way to a trip with his family for a month (or longer) trip to Europe. This sounded like the start to an extremely cheesy romantic comedy movie, or a horror movie. Hopefully it was the former. As a guy with a prosthetic leg, he didn’t really like his chances in a horror movie-esque scenario. Amputees were usually among the first to die.

During his days as an athlete, he had enough money to afford the occasional first class flight so he had considered himself fancy enough to be accustomed to it. Boy was he wrong. Gabriel--or rather, his family--must’ve been loaded. This was like… Mega First Class, if such a thing existed. Eric swore that there was a separate crew hired just to wait on their every need. All of the service legitimately went above and beyond amazing, and Eric momentarily felt like a king.

“So, what’s your story? What’s up with all of this?” Eric inquired, gesturing to the amazing service they were receiving. It was really over the top.

For all his pomp and circumstance, Gabriel’s shift from middle class hobo to Carrington true came seamless. The person didn’t change, but the situation did and situation called for a different tact. Unfortunately, for Gabe that is, he felt accustomed to the pampering of high class; like every Carrington, it fit him like a glove. A very expensive, very posh looking glove, no less.

“Any french cuisine is fine, thank you,” Gabriel said, rehearsed with a smile, “And if you have any of the Dom Perignon, 80s preferably, but later is fine, that’d be lovely.” He finished with a wink before relaxing back into his chair to give a soft hum at Eric’s inquiry.

After a moment’s thought, Gabriel figured the truth would be best. After all, take a possible stranger to Europe for the month and lying to him wouldn’t paint him as a suitable suitor. More like a potential serial killer. “I’m a Carrington, like silk finery and box seats at hockey games kind of Carrington,” Gabriel said, his chest deflating with a sigh, “I kinda got out of it. Made something of myself outside of my father’s company; became an FBI agent; did the whole college shebang; all that jazz. I’m practically not their son aside from a stark resemblance to my mother.”

“A Carrington? Like The Carringtons?” Eric’s eyes widened, recognizing the surname easily. They were only mentioned in the media nearly every week—most people in America, and possibly some other countries would know of them. However, that would explain this over the top service and fanciness of their mega first class flight. Gabriel must be seriously a VIP.

As Eric mulled over the new information, he suddenly came to a stomach-dropping realization. “Wait… A family trip. That means I’m going to go on a vacation with Reginald and Cassiopeia Carrington!?”

Ah, Gabriel hoped that wouldn’t be what he’d garnered from all of this. Of course, that’d be like asking a dolphin to stop swimming; having a huge brand name meant things to even the least money grubbing people. Of course, Gabriel didn’t quite know what Eric classified himself as and he didn’t fancy knowing right now. Ignorance is bliss and if bliss meant giving the man what he wanted for a month, then that’d be fine, as long as he didn’t expect the world and a fortune from Gabriel at the end of it all. And god, did he hope Eric looked past the money because Gabriel didn’t have squat.

“Those Carringtons, yes, my mother and father,” Gabriel tried his best to smile, but it came out shaky and uncertain, “I haven’t been keeping up with them; they weren’t the best parents, but we parted on a good note. They paid for my tuition and then did the rest of my life on my own.”

Taking a pause, Gabriel looked at Eric closely. “I hope this isn’t an issue for you. If you’re having second thoughts, my parents have plenty of money to get you back where you need to go,” Gabriel said, “but, if it’s anything to you, I’d… um… like it if you stayed.”

“That’s… Wow.” Eric gave a quick shake of his head, trying to take everything in. Oh God, he had hit on a Carrington all of those years before. That’s some heavy realization right there. Still, that didn’t really change the situation too much, did it? He was still going on a vacation for a while with strangers. It just happened that the strangers were extremely famous, rich, and influential. That was no big deal. If anything, it made it less likely for Eric to be killed, because they would probably get a backlash from that.

“I’ll stick with you,” Eric said firmly, flashing Gabriel a smirk, reminiscent of his more daring days back before the accident. “I’m already on this plane, and it’s not like I have much to do. And it doesn’t really change too much either.”

A smile from Gabriel lit up his side of the aisle and he practically heaved himself into his seat. Maybe he didn’t realize how anxious he’d been over Eric’s answer. From the dopey smile he kept sending Eric’s way, Gabriel realized he probably should tone it down a bit. He grabbed Eric’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “It’ll be great, I promise. I won’t let you down,” he said, before releasing his grip and falling back into the seat again.

---

With the rumble of the plane, Gabriel jolted awake from his spot on Eric’s shoulder, despite having a perfectly and fully reclinable seat and half the aisle to stretch out in. He muttered an apology for the stain of saliva on Eric’s shoulder and looked around with grogginess in his eyes. “We’re here?” he looked up to see the stewardess give him a weird stare.

“Yessir, it was… only a thirty minute flight,” at that Gabriel blushed and pushed himself upright, “Your bags are already on the private jet, Mr. Carrington. If you and Mr. Darvill would follow the escort outside that would be wonderful.” Gabriel nodded and stood to offer a hand to Eric once the plane properly docked.

“Ready to meet the parents?” Gabriel joked, almost immediately blushing further at his innuendo.

Eric accepted Gabriel’s hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Oh wow Gabriel, I’m super nervous. What if they don’t approve of me? Then we can never get married! We’re going to have to elope to Australia or something.” Eric teased right back,deciding to roll with it. Part of it was for his own benefit--Eric was nervous, an emotion he didn’t really feel that often. Is this how people with stage fright or whatever felt? It was absolutely horrible.

With a grimace, Gabriel wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulder. Noticing his odd mistake, he ending the connection with a pat on his bicep and a cough. “Australia? All those poisonous animals?” Gabriel asked, squinting his eyes at Eric, “That’s so romantic. We can get the same antidote on the same arm. True love.” After patting Eric on the chest and throwing his head back to laugh, Gabriel followed the queue of people out to meet their escort. The trip to their bought out wing of the airport and into the slightly chilled air of New York was quick and painless. Mostly. He felt insanely nervous and felt himself scoot as close as he could toward Eric in an attempt to comfort himself. It worked to distract his own thought from his parents and siblings, but only added thoughts of overstepping boundaries with a total stranger and being an insanely creepy bastard.

“Um, you good? Cause I’m fucking terrified, to be honest.”

As Gabriel scooted closer, it was a natural reaction for Eric to throw his arm around Gabriel. Was it weird? Definitely. Did he care? At this point, not really. He was already doing everything wrong and out of order by accepting to go on this trip with someone who was barely more than a stranger. Might as well go all out, right?

“I can feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest, but I don’t know if that’s because of you, or because of your loaded family.” Eric said in a light tone with a slight chuckle. “Either way, you’re probably doing worse than I am. You sure you got this?”

“Flattering,” Gabriel rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless and shifted closer in the little scooter vehicle—he could blame the size of it, despite it being slightly bigger than a golf cart. “I think I do, but I just need some reassurance, and you aren’t helping,” still smiling, Gabriel looked at Eric with something bordering on coy.

“If you need reassurance, you hired the wrong man.” Eric replied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “But if I must… Ahem. Even if they disapprove of our marriage, I’m certain that Australia’s poisonous animals will avoid someone as bitter as I’ll be.”

“In all seriousness though,” Eric paused there, his expression momentarily shifting into a more serious one, “Everything is going to be fine. If anything does happen, I’ll throw my fake leg at them and make a scene.” The last bit of his remark once again became teasing and light--he was totally kidding… Even if it’s something he’s done before.

Gabriel’s brows furrowed slightly at the first remark, muttering a quiet, “I didn’t hire you,” before returning his attention to the rest of what Eric said. “Yeah, I think the leg thing will be your best bet. Not the throwing, though that is a good idea, but, hey, um, if it makes you feel better about the situation or more comfortable, up the disability bit,” Gabriel said, immediately regretting every word that came out of his mind. He immediately jumped in his seat and frantically waved his hands in front of him, “N-not that I want you to like use that to your advantage because you are or like, you know, because, you know. Ah shit, if I ever say anything stupid like that, feel free to punch me in the gut.”

Eric shook his head. “It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.” He gave the flustered Gabriel a reassuring smile.

At that, the escort stopped the cart and guided the two toward where various people were already entering the rather large private jet. He could see both his mother and father standing at the top to greet each one with a curt handshake. Very Carrington like of them.

“You ready?” Gabriel asked, taking Eric’s hand almost on instinct now and helping him down with the biggest, most nervous smile he could muster. “Not too late to back out, but the moment we step on that plane, there’s no going back.”

Eric gave Gabriel’s hand a quick squeeze. “After coming all this way? Might as well keep going. Everything is going to be fine.”

It would be a lie to say that Eric wasn’t nervous. He was only going to meet one of the most influential families in America, what was there to be scared about? Regardless of the fact that Eric was having second thoughts, he knew that he couldn’t abandon Gabriel for some reason. Being protective of a stranger was a bit weird, but Eric already felt some sort of bond. Strange, but good. He would already be extremely out of place, might as well have someone he felt comfortable with.

“I’m ready to meet my future in-laws!” Eric managed with a smile as nervous as Gabriel’s. Marriage jokes. Great.

A blush lit Gabriel’s cheeks a bright red that, this time, he couldn’t blame on the cold. 60 degree Christmas weather didn’t provide enough to give a ‘nip at his nose’ as it were. So, all Gabriel could do was continue escorting Eric’s by the hand and look determinedly down at his feet. Upon raising the stairs, he met eyes with his father and then his mother and only then did he release Eric’s hand to shake theirs and then find his seat with his plus one following close behind.

He leaned in quick to whisper before he found himself a seat—all those stairs up a beast like this, damn. “If anyone asks, you’re just my really good friend or… I dunno, make something up. Whatever your heart desires,” Gabriel added a wink before pulling Eric down to sit next to him. He smiled at those on board, but kept his head down to preoccupy himself with looking out the window.

---

---

One early morning, Marisol walked along the hall way of her and Peter's house. Rubbing her eyes, with the back of her hand. Stopping when she saw the package that was meant for her. She had just stopped and stared at it for some time, debating if she should open it or not. Marisol wasn't sure what it was about-a part of her bit scared to open it, when she saw the familiar writing.

Taking the box to the kitchen, she set it on the table. With Trembling hands, she finally opened up the package from her parents. Finding the letters and the voucher. Twirling the voucher between her hands, she sighed sitting on the stool-staring at the two letters for quite some time. Marisol was silent and deep in thought. She and her parents weren't on good terms, she hasn't seen them or spoken to them since the day she run off; leaving her little brother Charlie to live and suffer under their wrath. But she could not take living under the same roof as Reginald and Cass anymore...she had enough. It's not like they probably, cared about her anyway...they never did when she was around. So why would they care now?

With a soft sigh, she tapped her fingers against the table. Still debating with herself....how bad could this be on a scale of 1 to 10?.....7...8?.....less than 5? Her thoughts were driving her bit nuts at that point. Marisol had avoided her parents for the last 6 years, living finally in peace. She could finally do what she wanted to, what she liked...and she was finally happy, living her with long term boyfriend Peter. Having met him in High-school, those two were close from day 1. And now this...she couldn't help but wonder if any of her other siblings got this....care package of sorts.

---

---

Peter woke up, his arm outstretched, landing on an empty part of the bed, where Mari's body would normally be. Surprised, he gave himself a minute or two before opened his eyes, gazing at the spot with the missing girl. Proping himself up on the bed, he rubbed the sleep of his eyes before getting up and heading to the bathroom. He then took the next couple of minutes washing up, and brushing his teeth, getting rid of the last remnants of sleep in his visage. He wondered where Mari was, and what she was doing out of bed so early. When he was done with the toilet, he got dressed and left the room to look for his girlfriend. His beloved girl.

As he got to the kitchen, Peter finally found the person he was looking for. He saw Mari sitting on the stool staring intently at something in her hands, a letter? That was what it looked like to him. As he approached her, he asked "What's gotten you up so early, my love? A letter?" While waiting for her to reply, the next thought sprang to his mind, as he rubbed his stomach. He was hungry, and he needed to eat. Breakfast. Peter opened the fridge, and peered inside its cavernous depths looking for something suitable for his morning meal. What should he eat? Eggs? Bacon? Should he pick one? Why not both? Deciding on having both, he took out a two eggs and a packet of frozen bacon. Taking out a frying pan, he began pouring a thin layer of oil before heating up the pan. He called back. "Love, have you eaten yet, do you want some breakfast as well?"

Mari had been silent, staring at the content in her hands for at least an hour. She was almost paralyzed, just lost in her thoughts about what the letters could contain. Peter's arrival, made her jump slightly-she wasn't expecting him to be up at 7 in the morning. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled gently at the love of her life. "Sorry...I couldn't sleep...and I found a package from my....parents." Marisol breathed out. Her Spanish accent, slightly intense when she spoke, the words 'my parent's'. Marisol had told Peter about the troubles in her family...including the horrors her parents put the Carrington Siblings through...and that there was a war-of kind between her and her older sister Olivia. Things were just unpleasent.

She didn't even notice her stomach rumbling, until he mentioned breakfast. "No...I haven't eaten yet." she told him softly, before getting up walking over. She leaned up, kissing his cheek softly. "I'll have some breakfast with you. I just need some coffee...I can't think straight." Reaching for the top shelves, she took two cups. One for herself...and one for Peter. Putting on the kettle, she leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.

Deep in thought, for a few more moments; she bit her lower lip. Glancing at Peter, she looked at him in silence for a few moments. "Do you think, I should open the letters?...how bad can it be?" she asked, thinking out loud as well as asking him for his opinion.

As Mari replied his question about breakfast, he thought about how much he loved her spanish accent. It was strange yet soothing to him. Peter then popped back into the fridge, grabbing another pair of eggs, before heading back to the heated pan, and started working on the eggs, cracking them skillfully at the side of the pan, dropping them whole into the pan, before frying them up for a lovely dish of scrambled eggs. Taking out a carton of milk, he poured a slight bit of milk in to curdle the eggs, bringing them to the correct consistency they were supposed to be. When the eggs were done, he started working on the bacon. Soon enough, their breakfast was ready. He set the mouth-watering food on a pair of plates, and brought them to the table. "Breakfast is served!"

"Those letter from your parents..any idea what they're about?" Glancing at them as he narrowed his eyes, he continued. "I don't see why you shouldn't. Give it a go then. I'm here if you need me, love." While he waited for his beloved to open her letter, he happily started on his morning meal. Boy was he starving! Wolving down the eggs ina blink of an eye, he started on his strips of bacon. Mmm..were they tasty, probably as tasty as the girl right in front. Looking up at Mari, he said, "Go on, eat, before the food gets cold now. Don't want good food and my effort going to waste, do we?" He then flashed her one of his trademarked smiles that she was incredibly familiar with and loved.

Watching Peter move around the Kitchen; Marisol smiled to herself. He always seemed at best when he was in the kitchen, he was a better cook than herself to be honest. She couldn't help but admire him for more than a few moments. When the water came off the boil, she fixed them both a cup of coffee, just how he liked it. Setting his cup down in front of him. She sighed, with her lips pursed at his question about the letters. She shook her head. "I have no idea...I haven't seen or spoken to them in 6 years. So I am not sure, what they'd want now...they even sent me some voucher." she breathed out, taking a few sips off her coffee.

Marisol smiled at his reassurance, watching him wolf down the food. She smiled shaking her head, he was more hungry than she felt. Her thoughts taking her on a slight de-tour until he snapped her out of her hay-daze once again. Seeing his trade-mark and rather charming smile; Marisol's cheeks turned pink as they always did when she saw that smile. It always managed to make her blush. "We sure don't." she then tucked into her food aswell. Enjoying the scrambled eggs with bacon, her hand reached over; giving his hand a squeeze.

During breakfast; Marisol finally opened up the letters. Taking a deep breath, she narrowed her eyes at the rather bussiness like letter, explaining they needed to find an heir for the company. "bull...pompous ass." she muttered under her breath; so this was the point? Trying to win them over with gifts...so they could find an heir?...crap. When she got the second letter, she narrowed her eyes even futher and looked a little pale at the thought of an entire family vacation. She swallowed, feeling slightly uneasy...how would she survive the next month with everyone being around each other? "They are after an entire family vacation...and something about picking an heir, for their precious company." she frowned, as she saw the tickets. "What are they going to do...force one of us, to take over the company? I am not interested in the bussiness...doubt anyone else is." The letters made Mari feel tense...the thought of seeing her parents...or seeing the one sister that hated and dispised her...made her stomach churn. She didn't know which was worse.

Peter kept his gaze on Mari as she explained to him about the contents of the letter, and what had exactly got her so worked up about. A entire family vacation, it seemed. Well, considering how estranged she was with her friends and the rest of her family, it was understandable how worried and anxious she was, but he was surprised that she even got an invitation. Perhaps, her parents were indeed keeping their options open to any of their children. "Your parents are rich, and their company is the main source of their riches. I sincerly doubt that any of your siblings have not thought of what they would be inheriting one day." Placing his hands over to grasp hers in his, he continued in a rather warming tone.

"Why, even if you're not interested in taking over the company, I don't see why we shouldn't go to the vacation anyway. It's an all expenses paid for trip and we got to spend some time together after all." That was what he told her, but secretly, Peter had another plan up his sleeves. A plan that he had in mind for sometime now, but had been searching for the perfect opportunity to carry it out. Europe would be the perfect place for it to happen. It just was.

Giving her fingers a squeeze, Peter said. "I'll go with you. You won't have to face them alone. I'll be there for you, just like I always have." Releasing his hand from hers, he took the letter and began reading the contents, just like she had been earlier, to get a clearer picture of what exactly was going on for himself. He read it and understood it. He was right, or at least he thought he was. There wasn't any logical reason to avoid it at all. She had plenty of siblings after all. He was sure, some or most of them would be more than eager to take up the reins in the family business. Peter didn't think Mari had anything to worry about.

As Peter gripped her hand gently; her thumb gently brushed over the back of his hand. Keeping her hand in his; Marisol listened to him, his warm and loving tone seemed to reassure her and calm her down."I suppose, you're right." she muttered softly. She knew, that the issue/debate about inheriting the company probably crossed her siblings' minds...but the matter, of fact was whether or not they actually wanted to inherit in the first place or not. Marisol couldn't think of one...that would be willing to take the reigns...or maybe they were, but never said anything....who knows what the other Carrington's thought off. So far, everyone seemed happy doing their own thing...living their own lives. That's one of the reasons, they all split off from their parents in the first place.

Hearing him, talk about the vacation. Marisol smiled a bit. She could think of a few reasons why they could avoid going. But something in her, was saying they should go...It was her family after all...maybe it might not be so bad, maybe it could be better...and things could be forgiven and forgotten? If things would get that lucky...but so far she was doubting it. "If you think, you can handle my parents and everyone else....then why not." she smiled softly. Looking worried and concerned...she knew that her parents would judge...and they judged harshly if things were not perfect...if people were less than perfect. The thought of them judging her, Peter made her heart clench in agony at the thought.

Feeling her heart flutter, at his words and squeeze. Marisol smiled at him warmly with a loving expression. "I don't know, what I'd do without you." her hand squeezed his before she allowed him to read the content of the letters. His support, and the fact that he was willing to go on his own to support her, meant a lot to her. He kept her together. He had been her rock and savior. The one person that kept her complete in more ways than she could explain. He was wonderful and he was all hers.

---

It had been a few weeks since the arrival of the care package-and the Christmas Holidays had arrived. Marisol was helping Peter finish up packing their bags for the vacation...they would be heading for the airport in a few hours. Trying to keep calm for Peter's sake...Mari felt like she might burst from anxiety, fear, and concern. Her emotions all over the place, but she did her best to keep herself under control. Peter's presence kept her somewhat calm and from freaking out,even if she looked pale like a ghost; from her anxiety and stress of seeing everyone, including her parents. The only people she looked forward to catching up with were Tatia, Charlie and some of the older siblings like Gabriel and Avery. Most of the others...were a bit estranged to her or they just didn't keep in touch, know each other too well. Checking her hand bag, she made sure she had their passports and the tickets at the ready.

It was finally here. The day of the vacation. Mari had been rather angsty the whole time ever since the letter came, anxiously preparing for family vacation. Both of them had packed their bags, with Mari butting in to help with his as well. He sensed that her emotions were all over the place and she was incredibly jumpy. Stress seemed to be getting the best of her, and he was glad that the day had arrived so that they could at least go on with it. Hopefully when the thing started, she would feel better. His repeated pleas of reassurance could only do so much, when her emotions seemed to continue to cloud her mind. He honestly was at a lost at what he could do to calm her down, and therefore could do nothing at this point. With all their bags packed, and their tickets and other neccesities ready, Peter had a job to do. He had to ensure that everything was in order and be the calm one here. He was sure that Mari, if she was anything like she had been the last couple of days, would be in no shape to keep things under control. Making sure that they had everything, He called for Mari to get ready to leave. They had to get ready if they wanted to be in time to catch their flight. " You ready love? It's about time we leave if we don't want to be late."

Even with Peter's reassurance, help and pleas-Mari still felt like she was bouncing off the walls-internally and emotionally. The thought of facing her parents, her older siblings *she didn't know well, or didn't get on with like Olivia* made the palm of her hands sweat from anxiety. Why did this have to be so hard? She asked herself, closing her eyes tightly. Taking a few moments of silence, Marisol bit her lower lip. She took a few moments to just look around their room; the familiar warmth and security she felt here at home. It was going to be different over the next few weeks. Trying to survive with her family.

Hearing Peter, she glanced over at him. "Not like I have much choice. A part of me just wants to get it over wit." she admitted. The sooner it was over, the better. At least, that's what she told herself.Grabbing her bag, she walked over to the hall way with Peter, where she slipped on her winter coat and scarf,over her turtle neck t-shirt with jeans, accompained with high heel boots.

Now that Mari was ready, they could finally make a move. Finally. Peter was starting to think that they might not leave after all at this rate. The ordered taxi arrived while Mari had been flittering around their home, and had been waiting for a couple of minutes now. Lugging all their baggage towards the taxi, he placed what he could in the boot of the car, before placing the rest of the hand carry bags in the backseats. The pair soon got in, and the vehicle started making its way to the airport. There was really nothing further to be talked about while they were on the way there, and so Peter remained silent, taking a couple of shut eye, resting up for what might be a long series of days ahead. When they reached the airport, they found a staff waiting for them to unload their luggage for them, and the pair would follow yet another staff who would escort them to where the rest would be waiting.

The small group of four arrived onto the entrance of a private runway, where a black livery car drove them to where a massive private boeing plane sat majestically on the tarmac. Peter was astounded, gobsmacked. He was expecting maybe something like a private Lear jet or something, an entire Boeing plane was not anywhere in his considerations. The Carringtons sure knew how to spend their money, that's more sure. As their luggage was loaded up to the plane, Peter helped Mari, holding her hands as they climbed up the boarding stairs, heading up to the aircraft itself. It was there that the pair would meet up with the rest of the family. Moving into the same area as the rest of Mari's family members, he began hunting for her parents, having the idea in mind that their appearance would definitely recognisable as the heads of the family. Finally locating her parents, Peter extended out a firm hand to Reginald and Cassiopeia Carrington before greeting and introducing himself. "Good day Sir, Madam, I'm Peter Griffin, Marisol's boyfriend. She is somewhere around the plane." He said motioning somewhere behind him. "It's an honour to meet you both." All he could now do was to give them a smile.

The journey to the airport was quite; Peter seemed to be resting so Marisol was silent. Alone with her thoughts for a car ride. Her head leaning against Peter's shoulder. The closer they got to the airport, the more nervous she felt....she couldn't help but wonder how her parents would react to seeing her again...let alone what they'd think of Peter. Knowing how judgmental they were; she was scared of what would happen. A part of her wondered if they truly cared...did they care about any of them? Maybe that's what this trip proved...that they cared...but she didn't think it was very likely. They never showed her much love or care whilst growing up. Even Rowan tried to convince her...that they cared. But to her, it sounded like he was just trying to convince himself.

Upon arrival, things moved a bit quicker for her at least. Following Peter up the jet stairs; she stayed behind for a few moments. Taking a few deep breaths as she spotted Charlie, and Tatiana first. Two of her favorite siblings were here at least...somehow she felt a bit at ease. She greeted them with a warm hug, giving them both a squeeze. Spotting her older brothers, Daniel and Avery; she smiled over at them in a silent greeting...but her eyes then landed on Sam. Marisol had never met the oldest Carrington...only heard a few stories; like anyone else who was born/brought into the family after she left. So far, it seemed like everyone had arrived with someone else....Marisol too, greeted her sibling's plus 1's with a soft smile on her face.

Taking a few moments, Marisol noticed Wyatt-she looked a bit confused and surprised. She didn't remember, Tatia having a boyfriend...at least not one she heard off. Feeling the palm of her hands sweating; Marisol wished she could just escape and run off...but she couldn't just leave Peter and her siblings here like that. Finally taking some courage, she walked off in the direction where her parents were standing.

"Umm...Hello" she sounded nervous after her long silence....as she was a bit nervous to even address her siblings a few moments before. "Father.....Mother..." she breathed out...her voice a bit softer, then she was used to when addressing her parents. Seeing Cassoipeia's stone cold expression, made it hard to force a smile on her face. Remaining upright and stoic...she just gave them a nod of greeting. She stood, a bit paralyzed in her spot, biting her lower lip. She wasn't sure what to say to them...after not seeing them for the last 6 years.

Hearing more footsteps, Mari glanced over her shoulder to see her oldest brother Gabriel arriving with his friend. She flashed her big brother a smile, before smiling over at Eric with a greeting smile. Leaning up a bit, she whispered to Peter "I am going to go and see Tatia for a bit." she kissed his cheek, before she walked over to her older sister. Once she reached the Russian Adopted Carrington, she breathed out in a nervous breath. "Kak vy dumayete, chto my delayem khorosheye delo ? YA tak nervnichal, vokrug nikh ... eto tak nelovko." Whilst her Russian was rather fluent due to Tatia being her language coach and Mari taking on Russian during High-school and College/University...however her accent was lacking. Mari tried to imitate Tatia's accent, therefore it came out at odd times during the conversation. But her American accent was present.

---

---

Feeling Charlie cling to her hand tightly; Amelia squeezed his hand back gently. A soft, yet reassuring gesture. She was letting him know she was there for him...his greeting sounding a bit awkward, as he did not know many of the older siblings.

Seeing the heads of the family; Amelia put on her best charming and warm smile. Standing straight, her head held high before she addressed Reginald and Cassiopea....also somewhat addressing everyone else that was present; since they could hear her talking "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Amelia Garcia...Charlie's friend." she extended her free hand out towards the pair to shake. Even though, she felt a nervous wreck inside. She wanted to make a good impression. Her smile grew slightly more nervous and she was sure, Charlie could feel her hand beginning to sweat. Her hand clinging to his a bit tighter for reassurance...people would think, they were a couple.

When Amelia had a chance to glance at the majestic private Jet-her jaw dropped slightly. It looked more like a flying palace. The inside was even more fascinating than the outside...so many seats, tables...the entire design, made it feel like a house...rather than a normal plane. It took Amelia a few moments to stop staring in shock. She knew the family was powerful and wealthy...but this was not something she expected. It was only a matter of moment, before more people arrived and started to get on the jet.

Shrugging off her coat along with her scarf, Amelia revealed the dress she was wearing beneath. Setting it down, on one of the leather seats present. Making sure to be near Charlie, for easy and comfort. Amelia then excused herself and she found the nearest restroom; closing the door behind her. She leaned against it and she sighed. "Alright, just take a deep breath Lia. This is going to be okay. They don't bite...at least...let's hope they don't." she muttered to herself. It was a strange habit of hers' the more nervous she felt, the worse it would get. Turning on some cold water; Amelia splashed her face..the water felt refreshing and it seemed to have cooled her down a little. Washing her hands and then drying them and her face. Amelia turned off the tap before she returned back to where the others were.

Catching Marisol speaking in Russian; she looked impressed. As far as she knew, Charlie's Model sister was originally from Spain. Marisol caught Amelia's look and she smiled over at Charlie's friend, whilst still standing near Tatia. "So, you're Amelia. Charlie spoke about you a few times. I am Marisol...feel free to call me Mari." she extended her hand out to Charlie's friend.

Feeling her cheeks turn a little pink, Amelia blushed feeling a bit flustered. "He has?" A soft smile on her face. Shaking Marisol's hand softly. "It's nice to meet you too." she answered back, before she flashed a smile over to Tatiana who stood with Marisol and Wyatt. Okay, maybe she could do this and converse...with someone else that made her feel at ease already. They seemed friendly...approachable. Not someone that might bite her head off and judge her.

Marisol smiled at her kindly with a soft nod. "He has..it's nice to meet you in person." she flashed a smile over to her little brother Charlie, giving him a nod of approvement with a soft smile. "You have a nice dress." she commented, on her outfit.

The comment made Amelia smile softly. "Oh thank you." The dress had been an old favorite of her's. It had been a while since she wore it...only wearing it during the Winter months. So Amelia, decided to bring it out again and wear it for the journey.

---

It had been the middle of December when the mysterious package had arrived.

Olivia Carrington had been standing in the middle of her child's nursery, carefully assessing how the work was coming along. She had decided to hire a prestigious interior designer that specialized in children's rooms and nurseries to help her bring her ideas to reality. All throughout the week, the designer and her team had been working nonstop to tend to Liv's ideas, and the result had been highly satisfactory. Liv couldn't wait until the day she'd show Rich the nursery.

"Miss Carrington?" Her housekeeper Mina had asked timidly from the door frame. Olivia had been staring at the empty crib, imagining warmly what her sleeping child would look like. She turned to look at Mina with an eyebrow raised in a silent question. "A package has just arrived for you."

Liv's eyes fell to Mina's outstretched arms, where she was holding a mid-sized box. Liv's perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed, but her face quickly changed to an excited expression after she quickly remember about all the crazy shopping she'd done after learning her baby's sex. She assumed this was the first package of many to come. She took the box from Mina's hands with a ‘Thank You’, sat down on the rocking chair located in a nearby corner of the room and placed the box on top of her lap. When she removed the tape that kept the box sealed and opened it, Liv's excitement turned into stress. Right on top of the box's contents, Liv found herself staring at the back of an envelope sealed with the Carrington family crest. She placed the letter aside, deciding to read whatever was in the envelope after seeing what was inside the box.

To her surprise, Liv found herself looking into the eyes of her four favorite stuffed animals as a child: Elsie the dark gray elephant, Daisy the brown dog, Lily the fluffy white lamb and Theresa the teddy bear. A nostalgic smile crept up on her lips as she remembered how she would sleep with all of these for as long as she would remember. Every night at bedtime after reading her a story, Gabe or Rowan would place two animals on either side of Liv, tuck them all in and kiss her good night. If one of them went missing, it was an assured fit and she'd get everyone to search around the house until they found the animal in question. She carefully took each one out of the box and gave them a hug, feeling instantly comforted. Under the stuffed animals were the pair of knitted white baby booties she'd worn as a newborn the day she was discharged from the hospital. Everything was in a perfectly preserved state, which showed that maybe her parents did have emotions after all. It was a beautiful gift, and Liv was excited that she would get to pass on her favorite friends and shoes on to her baby.

The hesitation and worry that had evaporated from Liv when she'd seen the gifts was now back as she removed the seal and opened the envelope. The first paper talked about how her parents wanted to reunite with all their children in an all expenses paid trip to Europe (the details of said trip were to be found on the following page, and the tickets were in a smaller envelope inside the big one), and find an heir for Trium-Veritas. Upon closer inspection of said smaller envelope, she found two airplane tickets, which obviously meant she was allowed to bring a plus-one. There was no question to the fact that she would be attending the trip, and no doubts on who exactly was going to be her plus-one. Without any hesitation, Olivia took her cellphone from her pocket and called her boyfriend and father of her baby: Richard Davis.

"Hey, honey. Do you think we could go out to dinner tonight? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

“Yeah, I’ll see about making reservations. Anything in particular?”

"Italian food!" Liv instantly blurted without a second thought. "I've been having a major craving for some pasta and garlic bread like you can't even imagine!" So far her cravings hadn't been that bad; except for that one time early in her pregnancy when she'd woken up in the middle of the night to eat pickles dipped in strawberry yogurt. Liv hated pickles.

“Alright, I’ll make the call.”

"Thanks, baby! Love you!"

Liv spent the few hours until seven thinking about the letter's mention of an heir, and how she felt she could do a great job if she were to be in charge of her parents' company. Though her fields of study had been marketing and public relations, she could easily expand her business knowledge with a second master's degree or a PhD in whatever she would need to take whichever position her parents left. If she was named heir, her and Rich would be the heads of two of the biggest companies in the world. They could not just build a family together, but a business empire; all the while Liv made sure that Triv-V stayed as a Carrington business and not fall into enemy or the wrong hands. There was a lot to think about and a lot to discuss during dinner that night. She kept her fingers crossed in hopes that Rich would see eye to eye with her in this aspect.

At exactly Seven o’clock, Liv and Rich were escorted to their reserved table at Luciano's; the best Italian restaurant in the Manhattan area. Once they were seated and their order had been taken, Olivia spoke. "So, today I got a package from my parents, and inside it was an envelope with two tickets for an all expenses paid trip to Europe, scheduled to depart on Christmas Day. I wanted to see if you, as my boyfriend and father of my child, would come with me." She took a sip of water from her glass, waiting patiently for Rich's response before moving onto the business part of the news.

“This is a trick right? There is no way I am allowed to say no.” Rich joked, as he paused briefly to consider his thoughts.

Liv smiled at him. "Well, you won't say no after I tell you about the rest of the letter."

“Yeah?”

Liv took a moment to gather her thoughts before she began with what was the serious part of this dinner. "There's a very specific reason why my parents have decided to reunite their ten children besides the whole 'getting together as a family' charade. They want to find an heir to take over their company when they decide to retire or, God forbid, are unable to manage it for whatever reason. I never really thought of what would happen to the company after they're gone, and judging from this I'm pretty sure they didn't either. None of my siblings chose business as a career or even worked for the company, since all of them were so eager to leave the house. But..." she took a deep breath. Here goes nothing... "I think I'm up to the challenge of taking over. I know I have to get the proper academical and professional preparation, but I believe that I can take the reigns over Triv-V one day."

“That’s a lot of responsibility. But from what you’ve told me about your family you’re the only one with the tenacity and interest. I think you’d do well in corporate. Plus, if there’s any issues I can give some solid help there. Might be tough juggling raising our child, our personal lives, and our professional lives though. Eh, I'm sure we'd handle it fine.”

Liv was slightly shocked. She hadn't thought Rich would be against her idea, but wouldn't have thought that he'd be so supportive right off the bat. With a beaming smile, she placed a hand on top of his. "Do you really think that, love?"

“No, I’m just saying that to make you feel better.” Rich smirked widely with an abundant sarcastic tone. “Yeah, of course I mean it.”

Liv rolled her eyes teasingly at him. Leave it to Rich to be such a sarcastic clown. "Well then, now that that's settled, I had actually been thinking of something else..." Again, she debated for a moment whenever to suggest the idea to Rich or not, but since they were already talking about it, why the hell not? "What do you think about having Triv-V and Davis Enterprises as sister companies? I personally don't like the idea of fusioning them, even if they would be much more profitable that way. But we could have them join forces to cover more ground and hopefully double their success in the business world."

“Look out, world! She’s got ideas!” Rich teased. “A merger would be meticulous and there’d be a lot of work to go into the prospect. I think we’d have to talk it over with company lawyers as well as draw up pros and cons. I’m not sure about the idea too much since you pretty much came out of nowhere with it; but bigger companies have merged with great success. It’s a long conversation.”

Just then, their food arrived, so Liv took the distraction to mull over her idea again between bites of mushroom chicken carbonara and fettuccine pasta. Rich was right, and he was the businessman in the relationship. There was plenty of time to talk to the pros about all of this, but for the moment it was nice to know that her idea wasn't complete nonsense, and that her boyfriend valued, respected and supported her decisions. When she was done with her food (rather quicker than the normal person, given her hungry, pregnant state and all), Liv looked at Rich with a mischievous smile. "This night went rather well, don't you think? But there is something I can think of to make it better..." She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

“Dessert?”

Liv smirked in satisfaction. "And that, Rich, is exactly why I love you."

---

Early morning of Christmas Day, Olivia was awoken from her deep slumber by her baby's kicks, an almost uncontrollable desire to pee and an overwhelming craving for strawberry Nutella pancakes. Rich was still sound asleep next to her, his toned, naked chest rising and falling. Even when she felt she was about to piss on herself, Liv still took a moment to stare at Rich. You know how mothers say jokingly that they love their children best when they were asleep? Liv often thought that she loved Rich best when he was peacefully asleep in their bed: not arguing, being an condescending asshole or spending the night out with random women. Sure, the man could be quite the handful, but didn't they say good things don't always come easily? Beneath all those layers of difficulty there was a charming, caring version of Rich that not many people got to experience, and Liv was lucky enough to be one of those select few. When he slept next to her, Liv's life was perfect.

She kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love you, you selfish arse. Do you know that?" she whispered to him, placing a hand on her quivering abdomen. "And I'm sure this baby is going to love you even more than I do." She stared at him lovingly for a few more seconds before the pressure in her bladder was unbearable and she had to run to the bathroom in order to avoid any accident. Oh, the joys of impending motherhood.

"Merry Christmas, love! I made pancakes!" she announced cheerfully as Rich made his way sleepily into the kitchen. Her brown hair was up in a messy bun, and the black shorts and gray T-shirt that she was starting to grow out of (made obvious because of the way the lower part of her belly was visible) were lightly stained with the white pancake mixture, as were her nose and cheeks. She took long strides in his direction with her arms outstretched, gave him a kiss and a hug, and giggled when her huge belly made the simple, loving action nearly impossible. "I seem to be getting bigger and bigger by the second," she declared while she served them both a succulent plate of pancakes with a glass of milk and took a seat in the chair opposite Rich.

“Right.” Richard replied afterward as he took a seat at the table in the Penthouse.

He had only just turned twenty-nine weeks ago and it seemed that this whole pregnancy situation was coming to a heading. He had been upfront with Olivia about his concerns from the start, deciding not to blatantly lie or hide from the fact. Hell, had he not cared he wouldn’t have spent a lot of money and called in big favors to make Olivia’s life paparazzi free; something like that wasn’t something someone did idly, though he would be lying to himself if he said he did it all for the sake of Olivia. There were factors about his public relationship with Olivia that would gain him and by product his “new” company for his careless sexual activities with not only Olivia but also his other female friends. So it was sort of a dual priority thing.

Still, with the onset of birth coming very soon he knew he would have to commit or at least sign a contract. It had been something that had been on his mind for two months.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said in November. About priorities.” He said as he placed a fork between his middle and index fingers on his right hand.

Olivia shot him a questioning look, but quickly returned it to her pancakes. "Really?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could while chewing on a bite of food. "Is it because there's only five more days left of this year?"

The week before Thanksgiving, Liv had gone through one of her hormonal rages and had lashed out at Rich after he came home late one night smelling of female perfume that wasn't hers when he'd told her he was at a 'work meeting'. Between furious tears, she'd given him a piece of her mind: he was a grown man close to his thirties, so he should stop messing around like the teenager he no longer was; that he should grow some balls for once and get committed to something serious besides his job, and that if he didn't get his priorities straight by the end of the year, she'd be out the door and out of his life for good.

“Yeah, which is why. I’ve decided to offer an answer to said questions of priorities.”

The comment was made after he took a bite of the food in front of him; thinking on what the right way to approach the conversation would be. Admittedly, Rich hadn’t really been slopping around just for sex but Olivia always had issues with Rich’s outlook on relationships; almost to the point of misconception. But if anything Rich was direct— feeling little need for lying in general. If he was out with another female friend he’d be direct about the situation… though he would twist his words enough to where he wasn’t lying and to the point the occurrence was supposedly harmless. Rich did have a large group of female friends and co-workers, after all. Though the way Rich could do that probably made Olivia uncomfortable. In fact, he knew it did; he just didn’t care all too much.

Rich retrieved a beige folder which he had put aside and slid it across the table.

Liv furrowed her eyebrows, first at the folder and then at Rich; her common gesture to anything that seemed suspicious. "What's this?" she asked him, taking the folder from the table and opening it.

“Imagine this isn’t exactly the most cinematic way of doing things.”

Liv read the first words of the folder's first page, and her brown eyes widened in stunned surprise. Inside the folder was a proposal as well as papers detailing how he felt and how he thought they should approach things; both romantically and professionally. There were of course terms that concerned their personal safety, success, guardianship, and so forth. 'No way...' she kept thinking over and over again with every sentence and document that she read. Rich was never one to be melodramatic over things, and so he'd found the perfect way to express his feelings without losing the qualities that made him who he was.

There was also the small box of jewelry in his pocket, a fact that was clear when he removed himself from his seat. He had spent a lot of money (not that price was much of an object) on the engagement ring that was inside. Perfectly cut, expensive branding, pretty much the whole nine yards. He had discussed this in depth with his sisters Rebecca and Nicole; one of which had been in the married boat for a few years now. He also consulted with a lawyer experienced in the matter named Patrick Watterson who was also a childhood friend.

Liv was reading the last sentence of the last page in the folder when she heard Rich clearing his throat. She looked up to watch him kneeling down in front of her chair, holding a small, velvet box that contained the most stunningly beautiful engagement ring she had ever seen. It was made out of white gold and adorned with an elegant cushion-cut diamond, two smaller square diamonds on each side of the bigger one and a halo of smaller diamonds surrounding the main diamond and the circumference of the ring; something so perfect it was beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

Rich cleared his throat as he knelt down, though it was clear his discomfort with the formalities. “Olivia Elizabeth Carrington, would you care to enter 2016 as my wife?”

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth with both hands and jumping up from her seat. He was really doing it: he was actually proposing and wanted to marry her. Today, on Christmas Day. Her eyes filled with happy tears. "Oh my God, Rich! Are you serious about this?! Because if you are, then you know what my answer is!"

“I’m not hearing a no.” He remarked with a smirk.

"Oh my God!" she squealed for a third time, while the tears came rolling down her cheeks. With a beaming smile, e extended her left hand to Rich. Thank goodness she always kept her nails neatly manicured, because with the amount of times she would be flashing her ring, it would be a shame not to keep them pretty. "Well, in that case... Yes. I would love nothing more than to enter 2016 as the wife of Richard Alexander Davis."

As he placed the ring on her person a sigh of relief left him for a moment; he never thought that something so archaic could be so stressful. “Well that’s good, because it’d be really awkward if you went into 2016 as my husband. The media would have a field day. To be fair, you would look fetching in a suit.”

Liv let out a bright laugh and wiped off her tear-stained face. "You ridiculous goofball," she teased, waiting for him to stand up. "I look good in almost anything." When he did, she once again threw her arms around him and kissed him deeply, trying to pour all of her feelings into the kiss. When she finally separated her lips from his, she gave him a bright, excited smile. "Now that you've basically given me my Christmas surprise, how about I give you yours?"

“Be my guest.”

"Remember how I've told you I still didn't know the baby's sex? I lied," she told him cheekily.

“Heh, can’t imagine you lying often.”

Olivia laughed again, her eyes sparkling with joy. "I sometimes do, but it's only for good causes like this one. Why else do you think you've been banned from going into the nursery? So..." Liv trailed off, unwrapping her arms from Rich, taking his hand and guiding him to the white door. Rich chuckled as he followed her lead.

"Close your eyes," she instructed, opening the door and ushering him inside. When he was standing right in the middle of the room, she told him, "Open them now."

The nursery walls were painted a light pink except for the one directly across from the door, which was painted gold with a light pink damask pattern. The crib was a beautiful bone white with gold accent and adorned with soft pink bows and white and soft pink bed sheets. Liv's old stuffed animals sat inside, as if waiting expectantly for the baby's arrival. A gold and crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the room, a fluffy soft pink couch sat next to the window and the rest of the room had various decorations that included frames, mirrors, crystal vases with flowers, small tables, lamps, etc. in the light pink, gold or bone white colors. All that was missing was Richard and Olivia's little bundle of joy, and the scene would be complete.

While he stared around the room, Olivia was looking straight at Richard with the brightest smile of her life, holding her belly. "Congratulations, Richard Davis. You are going to be the father of the most precious little girl in this world."

Richard didn’t have much words for the reveal; then again, Liv knew he was a man of few words. He hadn’t really been thinking about the baby’s gender, so whilst he was surprised he was fairly neutral about the whole thing. He knew he should be happy to birth another Davis to the world and he knew his eldest sister would be ecstatic about the news. But he wasn’t sure how to react. He didn’t want to phone in something for Olivia, but he didn’t want to show no reaction at all. After a few moments of speculation he smirked as he nodded his head.

“We’re going to need a bigger place.”

---

They spent the whole trip to the airport in silence. Liv wasn't really feeling up to her usual fashionista look (this seemed to be a trend growing stronger with every passing week), so she settled for something comfortable to wear all throughout their 12-hour flight: denim skinny jeans, a light brown tank top, an army-green jacket and some light brown, low-heeled boots. She'd decided to let her hair down in its usual layered waves style, a natural makeup that accentuated her eyes and a bold, dark red lipstick. For accessories, she'd chosen a golden necklace with a mermaid pendant that had been a gift from Gabe on her tenth birthday, a dark brown and gold watch (another gift, but this one from Oliver), gold stud earrings (yet another gift that had appeared on her doorstep on her last birthday, but that had no details about the sender), a light brown handbag and, of course, the stunning engagement ring that let the world know she was soon to be Mrs. Richard Davis.

"Forget about catching up with family... I swear to God, I'll spend the whole flight sleeping," Liv said to Rich as they made their way to the airport wing where the Carrington Jet was supposed to be awaiting them. She held his arm not just in an affectionate way, but more as a way of comfort and protection from the upcoming situation ahead.

“And leave me alone with your family? When you wake up, I’ll be dead.”

Liv thought about that for a minute. Knowing how Rich and some of her family member were, that scenario wouldn't be too far off from reality. "Just... Do try to be on your best behavior, okay, love?" she suggested, looking at him with a serious expression. "I love you just the way you are, even if you do get on my nerves sometimes. But some of my family members aren't as forgiving, if you could call it that."

“I won’t go out of my way to antagonize them, we’ve discussed that like twice on the way here; and five times yesterday. You’re more tense than I am; and I’m afraid your dad is going to throw me out of his plane in midair.” Rich chuckled as he buried his hands in his coat pockets; thinking on how he should approach the whole ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but hey, I’m engaged to your pregnant daughter! Whoops.’ issue.

"Okay, okay... I'll try to stop worrying so much then."

“You can’t help it. Victoria is nervous, too, or something.”

It was true. As they got even closer to the private terminal, the baby began to kick, as if sensing her mother's rising nervousness. "There, there, little Tori," Liv whispered to her bump, rubbing it gently with circular motions. "Everything's okay. Mommy's just a little nervous about how all of this is going to turn out, but you don't have to worry about anything besides staying inside until you're due, okay?" Getting her mind off the impending situation ahead by talking to her daughter and Rich eased some Liv's tension.

“Already throwing around nicknames?” Rich laughed before continuing his comment. “And Tori? Why not Vicki? or Vi?” He wasn’t sure why the thought had crossed his mind, but it was likely the idle chat was a tension reducer; or at least it was subconsciously.

Liv shot Rich an amused look. "It's never too early to start. Vi's just too plain, and Vicki sounds like a mean, grumpy old lady. Tori just sounds cool, very much like how Liv's the cooler version of a plain name like Olivia. Victoria's a great name in itself, but Tori's going to be like her alter ego."

“If you say so. Victoria will suit me just fine. Maybe Victory if I’m feeling ‘father-like’.”

"You're always sooooooooo humble..." Liv remarked, rolling her brown eyes at him. "Anyway, she is named after two queens of England, so I'm safe in assuming she'll be royalty." She finished proudly. For a moment, Liv was quietly lost in thought, but then suddenly burst out, "We should name her Victoria Elizabeth Diana Catherine Carringon-Davis. How's that for a royally-sounding name?" she said with a laugh at how ridiculous such a long name sounded.

“Three middle names is really pushing it. You’re just being silly, now!” Rich nearly laughed at the prospect of it.

"You're right... We can leave the whole Diana Catherine part and use it for our second baby girl!" Liv said excitedly, knowing Rich would flip at the thought of another baby when the first one wasn't even born yet.

“Not a bad idea.” Rich commented as he looked to her for a moment. “Funny you mention that, though. My eldest sister is named Catherine.”

"Too bad we're not having twins then... Or are we?" Liv teased, winking at Rich.

“If we are, then I really should be looking at buying a house over in Long Island or something.”

Liv began to laugh, but the laughter faded away as the Carrington Jet came into view. She noticed her parents standing on top with their usual icy expressions, and unconsciously held onto Rich's arm a little tighter. Here it was, the moment of truth: her family would finally know she was expecting what would be Cassiopeia's and Reginald's first grandchild, her siblings' first niece, and the first Carrington baby born in seventeen years.

They carefully exited the town car and made sure their luggage was tended to before walking their way up the jet's stairs until they stood face to face with Olivia's parents. Reginald and Cassiopeia had obviously aged since the last time she'd seen them eleven years prior, but they had done so gracefully, like a fine wine would. Olivia gave them both a shy smile. "Hello, Mother and Father, and Merry Christmas. I'm happy to say that the three of us could make it," Olivia told them, resting her head on Rich's shoulder and placing her left hand on top of her belly. Her engagement ring sparkled brightly against the dark fabric of her top.

---

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Charlie had remained quiet while his brothers and sisters arrived, all the while clinging to Amelia's hand. He even kept hold of it while Marisol hugged him, making it a far more awkward ordeal than it had to be. He did however place his other hand on Mari's back, which was actually more than he usually did while being hugged, leaving his arms hanging limp by his sides and waiting for the whole thing to be over. But he loved Mari and he was comfortable with her. More than most at least.

When Amelia left to use the restroom, Charlie actually thought about going with her but that would just have been weird, even by his standards. As everyone talked and addressed their parents, Charlie began slowly and quietly backing up without even realizing it. He only stopped when he bumped into a flight attendant standing nearby. He quickly apologized then glanced around at the eyes that had drifted his way. He smiled, trying to pretend nothing had happened.

As he shifted uncomfortably and wrapped his arms around himself, he spotted Gabe sitting nearby, looking even more uncomfortable than him. That was weird. Despite never actually having met, Charlie felt like he knew Gabriel pretty well. The eldest Carrington boy was an FBI agent, tracking down bad guys and saving the day like a real life action hero. That was soo cool. Growing up, Charlie had a picture of his brother in his head. It was a cool picture. He kind of wanted to be Gabriel. His knowledge of his brother was mostly through online research though so he didn't actually know the man. But that's what this trip was all about, right? Getting to know the family.

In a somewhat uncharacteristic way, Charlie made the first move and wandered over to sit with his big brother, making sure to keep Eric between them. His shoulders were tight with nerves as he rested his hands in his lap, squeezing the fingers of one hand with the other. When he looked up from staring at the wall opposite to them, he only partially looked around to Eric and Gabe, never actually looking at them. His lips moved around like he was trying to say something but eventually only settled on "Hi."

He stopped fidgeting entirely then but kept staring at the wall.

@HalfOfLancelot
@Undine

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Tatiana bit her bottom lip slightly as she glanced over towards Wyatt, was the man out of his mind to tell her parents she only spoke good of them? She hoped they would just pass it off as him being cordial and polite and read nothing more into it but she doubted it. They were never ones to take anything for face value that she knew of, always processing and pondering ulterior motives; you didn't become some of the most influential and wealthy people in the country by just idly taking things as they first appeared.

Placing her hand over her mouth she coughed slightly and scurried into the plane, her fingers tight around Wyatt's hand and pulling him with her. Once inside the plane she let out a sigh of relief. The first part was over, and thankfully Gabriel was not too far behind her after she arrived, quickly placing people between her and her parents. Seeing Gabriel pass by she smiled at him, mouthing a quick hello before taking her seat and letting out a bit of a huff.

"Well that was as awkward as I feared it would be," she said as she glanced over towards Wyatt.

Tatiana's attention quickly turned to Marisol when she arrived and she beamed, finally her closest sibling was there and she felt a bit more confident. Someone she knew had her back through out this entire endeavor. On the surface one might not think that the two would get along, they were both so different but being adopted and not of blood gave them an almost instant bond.

Rising from her seat when Marisol came over she hugged her little sister tight, smiling at her and taking a step back while she introduced Peter to their parents. She had met Peter a handful of times and liked the man; he seemed good for Marisol and as long as Marisol was happy that was all that mattered to Tatiana. Once the introductions were over and Marisol returned she chuckled a bit as her sister went straight into their little secret language. It made it easier for them to be able to say what they felt without worrying the rest of the clan were the wiser.

"Sdelayte glubokiy vdokh, vy sdelali bol'shoy," Tatiana said with a slight giggle before stiffening slightly. "Po krayney mere, vy ne dolzhny nanyat' druga ot Interneta," she sighed as she motioned towards Wyatt and groaned as she placed her hand over her face, hiding her embarrassment. She wasn't embarrassed about Wyatt, just over the fact she actually sunk her life savings into having to pay someone to come with her.

"Pozhaluysta, prosto poyti igrat' vmeste," she said peeking through her fingers before dropping her hand and clearing her throat.

"Marisol, this is Vyatt. Vyatt, this is Marisol," she said quickly introducing them before Amelia came over. Tatiana perked a brow slightly at her, looking her over for a moment and then giggling as she watched Amelia and Marisol talk. Tatiana leaning close to Marisol and whispering against her ear.

"Drug ili prodruga?" she said in a light hearted voice before looking over towards Amelia once again.

"Forgive me, ve have tendency to play around," Tatiana said extending her hand and shaking Amelia's gently. "I'm Tatiana, call me Tati," she said in a friendly voice. Looking back at Marisol she held up a finger.

"Just moment, I have to get out of this coat. It's too hot," she said before turning and stepping back over to Wyatt. Shrugging her outer vestment off she laid the cream toned woolen coat down in her seat. Beneath she wore fitted ivory leather pants and a matching silken top; it came high in the frost and had a single long sleeve which cuffed at her thin wrist. The other arm was bare and it sunk low in the back, revealing the broad ebony tattoo that now covered her skin.

The tattoo looked nearly like a Rorschach test but if one took a moment to focus it could be seen to be the ruins of a war ridden city and above it was a nightingale that was soaring away from the destruction. Tatiana had told Marisol she was getting it done over the years but she never let anyone see it until it was finish and she had fully healed; which only happened recently. It was Tatiana's homage to the worst day of her life and breaking free from it; mentally it was still something she was coping with.

The tattoo though was not the big change, the skin that showed made it apparent that Tatiana had lost weight to those that knew her. She had always been very thin but she had not been this slender since she was younger. Her bones showed under each movement and what muscle she did possess was toned and lined. To most of the family that had not seen her in person in years probably wouldn't notice the difference but those she was closer to her would undoubtedly see the change. Those that didn't know her or had not been around ballerinas in the past would probably just pass it off that she was severely undernourished.

Turning back around as she let her hair fall down her back, she froze when Liv came into view; her mouth opening slightly and nudging Marisol in the side lightly, motioning with her chin towards their sister. She had spoken with Liv here and there over the last year but never via video chat or in person; the entire pregnancy thing was a complete shock, as was the engagement ring that was on her finger. This trip was surely taking a turn down the road of interesting.

@GoddessSophia

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Jesse’s grip tightened on Sam’s clammy hand as they were – analysed and looked down on? – by Mrs. Cassiopeia Carrington. If this was what having a mother was like, she was glad she had missed out. Sunglasses were a godsend. It meant so that when she nodded at the woman who was their generous host, the tightness around her eyes didn’t give her instant dislike, even hatred, away.

Unsavoury measures... Who did this woman think she was? Jesse had known Sam for more of her life than her own mother did! She wanted nothing more than to suggest rather loudly that they should just head home, because Jesse wasn’t going to take someone insulting her – well – insulting Sam in front of her face, even if they did share blood. That isn’t what she did, however.

“A pleasure, ma’am,” Jesse said with some stiffness, falling back on the Southern charm drilled into her from the pseudo-spaghetti western her life as a deputy had become. She had decades, decades of dealing with people she didn’t like, like drug addicts (that weren’t Sam), drunkards (that weren’t Sam), and the occasional woman-beater. The voice she used to address Cassiopeia was no warmer than it would be for any of those. “But there’s plenty of people who care about Sam more than enough to tolerate her.”

Jesse hoped to God this Cassiopeia would take it as a challenge, and she thought daggers at her. Yeah, that’s right, they said, I care more about your daughter than you ever have.

Sam turned quickly at Jesse’s words, the turmoil that she had felt from her mother’s greeting fading into a warm light as she squeezed Jesse’s hand and smiled in thanks. Turning her gaze back to her mother’s slate-like face, Sam tilted her head, her own green eyes steely and devoid of emotion. Cassiopeia Carrington… They shared a last name, but were they really related? Sam hadn’t seen her parents for, what, thirty years now? And still, after all this time, they greeted her with cold words and even colder gazes. Sam shook her head slowly, rage and guilt and sadness burning in her mind, but she soon tore her glare away to look at Jesse, eyebrows upturning slightly.

“Let’s just find our seats, okay? Come on, Jesse.” She tugged at her girlfriend’s hand, tightening her grip as she closed the distance between herself and her parents. Her face turned hard with emotionlessness, her posture straight and stiff as she passed Cassiopeia quietly, and eventually the two were away from Sam’s family’s cold stares and on the plane. Sam loosened her grip on her poor friend’s hand, and she sucked in a deep, tired breath, her lip trembling slightly as she fought off the urge to cry, “so…” She started, voice stiff, “that was my, er, family. Great people, aren’t they?” Sam hugged herself in an effort to stop her body from shaking, and her eyes focused on her feet as her cheeks turned red with anger and embarrassment.

Jesse frowned in concern, her brows knitting together in an expression that was a contradictory mix of complete confusion and long-awaited understanding. Sam had told her about her parents, of course, when they were both younger, but now she had met her girlfriend’s mother, all was clear. Cassiopeia Carrington was a raging bitch that was off-the-charts on the verbally abusive scale, by what she’d heard of the woman’s replies to the rest of her children – as if her reaction to Sam wasn’t enough for Jesse to make a snap judgement.

“You’re nothing like her. I wouldn’t’ve known you two were related,” Jesse promised her, but she didn’t feel like letting Sam hold herself together. “Hey, c’mere.” She slipped a strong arm around Sam’s waist and pulled her in for a solid hug, ignoring that under all her expensive fur she felt even more fragile than before – all skin and bones.

In the process, she leaned over to whisper to her, “If they say anything else like that, I’ll punch them. I don’t care if it’s your dad, or your mom, but they’re getting a shiner.” Jesse was completely serious, which was unsurprising. She’d jumped to Sam’s defense in the (distant) past a few times, mostly at seedy bars when they were both underage. Sam sighed once, allowing her head to rest gently on Jesse’s shoulder. Whenever she was by her friend, Sam either felt incredibly calm or incredibly mad. They didn’t have a perfect relationship, sure, but Sam really couldn’t imagine her life without Jesse right now.

“Thanks, Jesse.” She whispered, closing her eyes as she breathed in and out softly. This trip wasn’t going to be easy, she knew that, but as long as she had Jesse by her side (and a LOT of alcohol) she’d be fine. She may even enjoy it, if her family kept to themselves. Sam shook her head slowly, pulling away quickly, “but we should find our seats, yeah? Just… Ignore anything my family says for now.” She muttered, green eyes glazed slightly.

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Tatiana could feel her face beginning to burn; each word that slipped off Cassiopeia’s tongue driving the temperature of rage to gain a degree. The only good thing so far was how Samanthas friend responded, Tatiana wanted to high five the woman. Sure Sam was a handful, but she didn't deserve that. Hell, in Tati's eyes Sam probably wouldn't be the way she was if it wasn't for the way Cassiopeia acted towards her own children.

Tatiana narrowed her eyes slightly; if looks could kill her adopted mother would be laying there on the ground gasping for final breaths from the daggers that shot from the ballerinas cold gaze, one that seemed to reflect the very look she had seen her mother shoot many an unsuspecting victims in the past. It seemed that Tatiana had learned the glacier gaze well if nothing else.

She found herself biting down on her tongue, trying not to quip a heartless retort back at Cassiopeia; the only thought that kept her from doing so was the thought that perhaps Cass or Reginald might be ill and at the end of their days. She wanted, above all else, for this trip to go as smoothly as possible; it seemed that, to her, Cassiopeia didn’t care if she drove her children right off the plane, across the tarmac and back into world away from the loving words of their parents. If that was Cassiopeia’s intentions she would be sadly disappointed, Tatiana was determined to see this through if it killed her. Right then she felt like it just might do that.

Taking a deep breath she turned towards Wyatt, pursing her lips hard; her lips thinning and going nearly white under the pressure. Each greeting just made Tatiana that much more angry; she could actually taste the blood in her mouth at this point from her teeth grinding down on her tongue. As she laid into Marisol, Tatiana had had enough and spun around on her heels.

Seeing Rowan, Tatiana visibly froze. This was just what she needed, the mother pleaser in the group. As per usual Cassiopeia was no kinder to Rowan than anyone else. It seemed that the only one to escape the woman's seeming hatred was the one carrying the next generation. Tatiana had to wonder if all the girls showed up pregnant if it would melt the ice queens heart. She doubted it.

Tatiana nearly held her tongue but she couldn't. Not this time, not for Rowans sake, not for Livs, not for her father. Tatiana had had enough already. Why bring them all together if they were only going to be berated as they stepped on the plane? That same childhood glare coming to her features and her speech dripped like acid as each word eloquently and with perfect dictation rolled over her tongue and left her lips.

“I only hold you in as such high regards and with as much adoration and compassion as you do I, Mother,” Tatiana spat harshly towards Cassiopeia as she was led to a seat, her voice rising up to ensure she was heard. “I could always sink lower, I could become you,” she added without remorse before turning her back to Cassiopeia. Taking a shaky breath she looked over towards Wyatt, keeping her face hidden from her mother and father as the tears threatened to wash down her cheeks.

"If hate begets hate, then I was raised to be nothing but a raging inferno of hell thanks to that voman," Tatiana whispered before grabbing her purse, pushing past the rest, and walking into the lavatory; slamming the door hard behind her and locking it. Tatiana slow sunk to the floor, dropping her bag next to her; her knees coming to her chest as her arms wrapped around them and her head fell forward. That woman always knew how to push Tatiana’s buttons; sadly Tatiana had never learned how to turn her reactions off. She was convinced that her adopted mother enjoyed seeing her get like this.

”Long deep breaths,” Tatiana kept telling herself. That woman was not going to squeeze one more tear from her she promised herself. She would not give her the satisfaction; not now, not ever again. Tilting her head back she gazed up at the ceiling, cursing when she saw the smoke detector and suddenly realizing that this was going to an eight hour plus trip that would include no smoking. ”Fucking great,” she thought to herself as she slowly stood up and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Vhat am I doing here?” she whispered to herself. Tatiana knew they were looking for an heir and she knew that they would never even consider her for such a task; even if they had she wouldn’t have taken it. She never wanted such a life and though her life was far from perfect she had been happy these last years. She loved the life she had. She was free to pursue what she loved and still make a bit of coin in the process. Sure her life was anything but easy, money always played a part, that didn’t bother her. Each dollar she made was hers, she earned it. Why couldn’t they be proud of that? Wasn’t a parents goal in life just to be that their children were happy?

Sighing she looked away from her own reflection and took another deep breath, she was still trembling but at least she had not thrown anything; yet. The day was still early and locked away in this flying mortuary was not going to make things any easier. She just wondered if she would be the first to actually chuck a pint sized bottle of booze at her mother’s head or if say Samantha or Marisol would beat her to it. Tatiana felt like kicking herself to ever believe that this trip was going to mend anything from the past and that she could finally come clean about what she really had been up to over the years.

Reaching down she picked up her purse and set it on the vanity, opening it up and pulling out the small envelope that she had tucked away. Opening it carefully she moved its contents and ran her fingers over the image on the front before shaking her head and shoving it back away; out of sight but hardly out of mind. She felt like a fool. What was she thinking to bring it with her? They weren’t proud of her as a child, they weren’t proud of her now; what made her think if she showed them anything that their opinion would change? She knew it wouldn’t. She could become the Premiere Prima of the Russian Ballet and they would think the same of her if she was selling herself on a street corner for a hit of heroine. It mattered not. She was a publicity stunt, she wasn't a true Carrington. In their eyes, especially in Casseopeia's, she never would be.

Zipping her purse closed she unlocked the door and stepped back out, not bothering to look at a single person as she walked by the flight attendants cart and snatching a handful of small bottles before slumping back into her seat. If she couldn’t smoke or throw things, she could at least drink herself into oblivion. The hang over would be a welcome price to pay to escape this level of purgatory for the time being.

---

---

As his children filed in, Reginald stood center in the massive airbus' entrance, between the first two bathrooms. Divided into two sections, the first corridor held the bar, a smallish thing shoved into the corner to accommodate room for more seats—left of where Reginald stood at the entrance. Its mahogany counter, dark red, almost cherry, fit well with the wooden trimming coating the plane, standing stark against the clean off-white that clung to the seats and the walls. The bar held three seats at its counter with a professional already mixing cocktails flashing her white teeth behind. Just across from the bar two sets of booths settled into the wall, large enough to seat four in a section (with seat belts for safety) and the same mahogany tables dividing the white seats. Just behind it, exactly right of where Reginald stood, sat a couch facing the embedded TV, with a coffee table just in front. Across from that and just beside the bar, to Reginald's left was a small lounging area, with enough room to seat five people in an odd square fashion, with another coffee table settled in the midst of the chairs and sofa.

Walking from one end of the section to the other, another pair of bathrooms were built to divide the area. A more living room area nestled itself in the near back of the plane, with an arrangement of seats built in to the wall, coffee tables, embedded TVs, and sofas. In the midst of the room sat the two main couches with a long, low coffee table between them and behind it a pair of seats across from each other. Closest to the entrance of the room sat a L-shaped booth that fit snug in the corner of the section, with a small cabinet that held a numerous amount of books, kept locked until the flight hit a steady altitude. Across from the couch-booth a more dynamic seating arrangement for TV viewing, with a couch and a seat nestled in the corner, with two more traditional plane seating arrangements lining the area behind it until the chairs hit the wall of the section.

In the very, very far back of the plane, where the Carringtons had kept a small bedroom, the room itself had been refurbished to adjust to a larger crowd. The entirety of the room held seemed made for long-flight naps with its stretched out sofa that had enough room to lean back each individual seat with its own leg rest. Across from it laid two chaise like sofas with their arms on the side closest the door and nice, wool blankets draped over them. The room itself holds no windows, it's personal sliding door and light fixture for near complete darkness. The room separated itself from the previous one with the last pair of bathrooms, and a personal section for the attendants to serve more traditional drinks, and provide the passengers with whatever they needed. The front of the plane, nestled between the cockpit and the entrance, was where the food was held and cooked to be served at the passenger's convenience.

After their initial introductions, Reginald moved on to greet his children more formally. He let Cassiopeia take a breather after introducing their children to the plane and allowing them to board. They wouldn't like what they said to their children, but they had to know for certain their reasons for being here—to see them was quickly marked off. Hopefully, it was their siblings they wished to rekindle old ties to and not potential greed clouding their minds. For all they knew, they were here to be forcefully put into position as head of Tri-V, though, Reginald knew, just from small greetings, that the weight of an entire business empire would overwhelm each and every one of them.

Samantha the most, as he rounded the corner and passed the threshold into the first room. He wasn't surprised that she found herself closest to the drinks. Reginald was this close to downing one himself, or a few dozen.

Reginald quickly made his way to where his daughter and her girlfriend sat, putting a hand on Samantha's shaking frame. "Samantha," he mumbled. It was all he good say at seeing her, his first daughter, his baby girl. He'd spoiled his princess rotten and what had he gotten for it? A beautiful young lady that hated his guts more than the world.

Bending low, he met her eyes with the sternness and frost in his. It was hard taking that part out of him, making his face look more than just cold stone. "I hope you liked our gift to you," he started, "It'd been hanging in my office for years; I almost didn't want to let it go." And then, just like that he started moving away, "I've been... dabbling in a bit of art, but I can't seem to find anything I like that matched yours. So, that's all I have in our home."

After nodding to Jesse, he started moving a way, breathing deeply, "Take good care of her. And make sure she doesn't bleed her liver out."

With that heart wrench out of the way, Reginald moved on to more neutral ground. A place he could rely on not to get him on his knees crying or screaming out the window in frustration. Gabriel Carrington. Of course, that meant he skimmed over his second eldest child in favor of paying attention to the problem cases or the most successful children. That didn't mean he loved the boy less.

"Don't actually take shotgun wedding seriously, Gabe," Reginald said, slapping Eric on the shoulder as he looked down at the man, "And you better be ready to live in a castle of toys. I'm still waiting for the day he grows up." A small chuckle left his lips and then his eyes landed on Charlie sitting beside the two. His face grew stern and he turned his full attention on the boy.

"Charlie, let's not pester your brother," he said, motioning for the TV near the front, "might as well rot your brain, seeing as you aren't using it."

"Dad, it's.. it's okay, he's not a bother," Gabriel chimed in, looking from Reginald to Charlie.

"I'd rather not have two kids trying to give their mother a heart attack. Don't influence him," and with that Reginald wandered off, not ignorant of the typical eye-roll Gabriel gave and the middle man routine of placating at least one side.

He could hear the cusp of a, "Don't mind him," upon entering the more spacious area of the plane and setting his eye on Liv with her plus one and a baby bump that knocked it out of the park.

The moment he found himself in front of the two, he could barely stop himself from digging his nails into his hands. Richard Davis, a man a little too like Reginald for the old Carrington to like and enough unlike himself for him to mistrust. It was a raging conflict upon seeing him in the flesh, arm around Olivia like he mattered. And damn did he. Though his field of business drove him far away from the likes of Reginald, he saw the boy too often making headliners in the magazines that truly mattered, articles dedicated to his brilliance and his fit for running his father's company.

Despite the animosity in his mind, Reginald smiled from his spot looking down at Richard. Best to assert dominance now, make it crystal clear that, should he abandon both his daughter and his child, there'd be Hell to pay and Heaven to rain down on his insignificant, bastard little, ego-inflated—Reginald took a deep breath and smiled wider. "I see my daughter's standards are high," Reginald stated, looking Richard over, "she always did have a thing for fairy tale princes. Only the best for my princess."

He gave Richard one last look, "I hope you find your stay to suit your eccentric tastes." And he almost sneered, almost let his expression fall into a scowl, but Reginald tightened the smile before softening the look to make his statement more believable.

Then he disappeared, leaving him with a vague, "I hope you can keep up," before moving on to another of his children.

Seeing Marisol and Tatiana together, Reginald nearly descended into the seat next to them. He loved these two as much as the next child because they were his children. Years of putting so much work and thought into what they'd become after school, after college, should have been evidence enough. Of course, knowing you were adopted tended to put a damper on thoughts of actually belonging to a family. But, he'd remind anyone who thought other wise with ever inch of his knuckles.

"I see you didn't think highly of my language suggestions, Marisol," Reginald greeted with a hand on the back of her seat, "I suppose that's par for the course. You never did take direction and guidance well. Always so stubborn, yet determined. You're just like your mother." And then he found himself looking down at Peter, and just about snap judging him like he did Richard. Of course, he knew Richard's type, or at least the type he looked like. Love 'em and leave 'em. Peter, however, didn't meet that criteria. He didn't seem the type to have a backbone. Of course, what was worse, no backbone, or too much ego? The sneer that left him was purely accidental, then again, the tiny part in the back of his head really wanted Peter to know he didn't deserve what his daughter gave him.

"Your boyfriend," he'd caught the looks they gave each other, "looks like a farmer's boy. I suggest finding him new clothes." Though, he did bend down to lay a kiss to the side of her head and whispered, "despite that, I couldn't be happier. But if he leaves you, make sure he knows just how much money I'm willing to spend." Reginald ended the note on a narrowed glare directly in line with Tatiana's plus one.

"I loved my mother dearly," Reginald started, "but I never let her dress me," before he turned toward Tatiana, "And, darling, you have it hard enough, the accent just makes you look like a target to be taken advantage of. I'd suggest losing it, but you were always so... free spirited."

Before he made to leave, however, Reginald paused in his first step. His brow creased over, and he nearly hesitated before looking up at Tatiana, "Hard work. It's evident in the set of your shoulders. I... like what you've become. I'm eager to see what you'll make of yourself."

Of course, that had to segue into seeing little, curly haired Rowan. The boy who wanted too hard to be his father. Though he'd not gotten much else in his life, Reginald couldn't be happier with the mistakes that shaped Rowan. There was a difference between wanting a father's approval and wanting to be your father—Rowan got caught in the in between and he suffered for it. Reginald couldn't be more disappointed in himself than at this very moment.

Setting a hand on the back of Natalie's chair, he smiled down at the girl. "I can't believe my son caught such a lively girl," he said, "he'd been such a stick in the mud as a kid. But, I suppose he did his brother's good keeping them in line. Gabriel found himself teetering on the edges of his mother's nerves. Rowan, there, was always her favorite." And then he moved on to pat his son on the shoulder, sinking into the next part of the plane while leaving his son with a, "so call it, since nor the exterior nor the inward man resembles that it was."

And then came Daniel, with his... girlfriend? Reginald squinted his eyes, but thought nothing more of it. Daniel had the looks, in a unique way. He had a look and he supposed it depended on the perspective. Of course, Reginald had always been biased and considered all of his children to be top tier in the attractiveness category—Marisol was a model, for god's sake.

"Ah, it's nice to see my angst ridden children have significant others that can tote around their rain clouds with a happy smile," Reginald nodded to Katelyn before looking at Daniel, "You've made a significant change. I wonder what else you have to offer."

Speaking of girlfriends, Reginald's eyes settled on Emmaline beside one of his younger sons. He approached with his hand outstretched, "It's nice to meet the girl that finally urged my son out of his shell. He's quite, lucky in that way, isn't he?"

[aaand place holder; wow such unprofessional; how dare]

With greeting all of his children out of the way, Reginald could finally take his place at the helm of the plane with his wife's hand squeezed tightly in his. "Just focus on what we've planned out," he said, "they'll be preoccupied with unpacking, and then the day after with the interviews. We'll take their guests out, have a nice day, relax. Just. Relax." The plane chose that moment to disembark, settling for an leisurely acceleration through the airport strip.

---

---

As Mari and Tatia were conversing; Marisol's eyes went wide with slight surprise, as she heard Tatia acknowledge what she had done. "Bozhe moy ... Ty ser'yezno Tati?" Marisol asked under a hushed breath, whispering in her sister's ear, her words coming out bit slow...and unsure as she tried to get the sentence right..for a moment feeling the shock and panic of her sister's decision. Turning her head to Wyatt, she gave him a soft nod as she smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Wyatt. I'll trust you'll take care of my sister." Marisol smiled at him gently, of course saying those words for appearance's sake than anything else. On another Level, she had to admit..this was genius....what a way to get at their parents for sure.

Talking with her sister...Marisol felt free to express herself...in ways she could not around their parents and siblings when talking in English.

As more siblings had arrived; Marisol gaped at Liv and Richard in shock. Her least favorite sibling had arrived..the one sibling that hated her, despised her, always confused Marisol. Nothing she ever did was seeking attention...she never asked to be found, when she run off. If people were searching for her...they did on their own terms, not because she wanted them to...or to steal a precious crown from Olivia's head. Even when Tatiana nudged her...speaking to her in Russian...Marisol remained there; speechless as she tried not to gape at her very pregnant and engaged sister. This she was not...expecting. Shaking her head, she looked away from her sister Olivia and Richard. "I wasn't expecting...that." she whispered to Tatia.

---

---

Amelia smiled at Tatia warmly, as they shook hands. "Don't worry...It's okay. Feel free to talk, as much as you like. Russian always has been...an interesting language, even if I know very little about it and the country itself." she told her softly. "It's nice to meet you Tatia and Wyatt." she nodded to the tall man, besides the Russian beauty. It wasn't long before, more people had arrived and Amelia noticed Olivia...one of Charlie's sister and essentially...her boss at her internship. Flashing a gentle smile towards Olivia, she looked a bit surprised to see the engagement ring on her finger. Before she could address her, Mrs Carrington was the first to speak towards her children. Listening to the very harsh...cold words; Amelia stiffened slightly. When Cassiopeia turned to address her; Amelia remained silent from feeling nervous and unsure what to expect.

Simply mumbling out a simple "You're welcome..." The way she spoke to her children...cold...distant...no emotion and compassion, stirred a worry within her. It was not very motherly off her. Tugging, Charlie on his arm nervously, she leaned in whispering "Is she always like this?" she asked, glancing at her best friend. When she heard what she had said to Marisol and Tatia; she turned a little pale...white as a ghost. Her lips slightly parted...but too shocked to say anything, to try and defend the young women beside her.

'This is going to be hell...if she treats everyone like this.' The thought lingered in her mind.

When Marisol saw her mother approaching; she just listened to the harsh comments she did not spare anyone. When it came to her and Tatia, Marisol's jaw clenched as she shot her mother a cold, unloving look. "Like you would know the difference between Modeling and working for a gentleman's club." she spat her, with a harsh yet sarcastic tone. Mari's hand curled up into a fist, fingers clenching tightly. "I am hard to live with?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "I see, you're still the same...ruthless...compassionate...heartless cold machine you ever where! You don't deserve to be called a mother...you never acted like one! If anyone's hard to live with...it's you!" Marisol rose her voice at Cass in anger and agitation. "I don't regret leaving home...I saved myself from hell! I Only regret, leaving Charlie behind to suffer, because of you." Her voice was cold...and heartless towards Cass, just like her mother was towards her children.

Her brown eyes weren't sparing her any positive emotions either...Cass did not deserve positive reactions...or emotions. Nor a kind word....not from her. "At least, everyone saved themselves and are doing what they like....but then again, you would never know! You call your work...home...and your baby!" she hissed at her in annoyance. "And you wonder why we left...you drove us all away...one by one, starting with poor Sam, who doesn't deserve to be talked about like...some...homeless person." Marisol was shaking, from anger. Her hand gripped onto the chair, gripping it tightly. Her anger was boiling, inside of her. Even though she did not Sam; Marisol was going to defend her oldest sister.

"And how dare you speak to Tatia like that?!" Marisol was close to yelling at her mother; her voice raising still. "At least, she has more compassion, feelings and motherly nature, than you ever had...if you even have it!" Marisol pointed that out to her mother. Tatia had been more of a mother figure to her, than Cassiopeia.

Catching sight, of mother with Liv; she rolled her eyes into the back of her head. "tipichnyy." She muttered under her breath in Russian. It seemed like Liv had always been the favorite child...the only one getting away with a somewhat pleasant greeting, unlike the rest.

Marisol didn't have much time to recover, when she saw Reginald approaching her. She avoided eye contact with her father for the most part; hearing his comments she rolled her eyes. "What? Your...boring...and uninteresting suggestions?" she asked, in a mocking tone. "At least, Russian is more satisfactory and interesting, then your choices father." she spoke, in a snappy tone..still clearly irritated. "And I see, you haven't taught mother much love and compassion...I dare say, you're lacing it yourself, never showed much warmth but more discipline and coldness towards me growing up...no wonder, why you're both hated by many. Neither of you were ever proud of any of us...never! Only of yourselves...and your precious company." Turning her head away from Reginald...the man was bitter and judgmental. Expecting perfection from everything and anyone...when he himself was not perfect...not close.

When her father came to address the looks of her boyfriend; her nostrils flared in anger. "Leave, Peter alone! You expect everyone...and everything to be perfect to the dime!But...you've never been perfect yourself...and your money won't bribe me...or you my love...and closeness! Money does not...and will never buy those things...so think twice, before bribing someone with money to gain their trust!"

As she heard his comment about being her mother; she snapped back angrily "I am not CASSIOPEIA! Don't you dare compare to me to that monster...I'd be damned, before I turn into a heartless creature like her!" Her voice was stern and angry...filled with contempt towards both of them. Closing her eyes, she needed to take a few deep breaths. She just felt her father, kiss the side of her head; instinctively moving away from him. There was no point, trying to get close to him...she began to regret coming here in the first place; based on what had been said by her parents....This trip was going to be hell. But the plane was already ascending into the air; there was no turning back now. As Marisol closed her eyes, she could see Reginald punishing her when she was little.

"No..please...I am sorry! I didn't mean to..please!" she could her herself begging with tears streaming down her cheeks, as he locked her up in the closet. A tear slid down her cheek at the memory...quickly wiping it away with the back of her hand.

Amelia watched the scene unfold in silence and she just bit her lower lip. Keeping silent was better than stepping out of line by saying something. She wasn't even sure what to say..when she saw Tatia hurrying off to the bathroom. Clearly she was upset...and visibly so Marisol...she wondered who could keep their cool under this situation. Following the direction in which Tatia run off; she gently knocked on the bathroom cubicle. "Tatia..are you okay? It's me...Amelia." she said softly, in a soft and concerned voice as she stayed near the door. Wanting to make sure she was okay. Despite not knowing her, she felt welcomed by the adapted Carrington daughter and felt what was said...was utterly harsh. It just wasn't in Amelia's nature to sit back...and not see if another person was alright.

---

---

Charlie tried his very best to ignore the bile bile mother was spewing all over his brothers and sisters. Living in denial was a survival tactic he had mastered over the years. It probably wasn't a healthy tactic but by this point, he was so messed up already that it probably didn't matter. He was forced to shift his attention back to the matter when Amelia grabbed hold of his arm and asked if his mother was always like this. He looked at Cassiopeia from the corner of his eye and with an expression of slight disgust he muttered in a barely audible tone "This is actually quite pleasant for her."

The youngest Carrington's cowardly lion tactics failed him when he heard Cassiopeia speak to Marisol. He very nearly jumped to his sister's aid and, in a rare show of bravery, was set to bark a retort at his mother in Mari's defence. Mari beat him to the punch however, going off on Cass like only she could. Charlie could then only plant himself in his seat. He leaned forward with his arms in his lap, looking thoroughly tense as he squeezed his hands together.

Charlie hated this. He hated that he was too afraid of his own mother to actually say anything to her. He hated that Mari was yelling. Not that Cassiopeia didn't deserve every word of it. He just hated it when people yelled. It made him even more uncomfortable than he already was. He wanted nothing more than to drag Amelia off to some hidden corner of the plane and just stay there until this flying fortress of suffering touched down. But that plan went up in smoke as Amelia ran off after Mari. Charlie was set to follow after both of them when the old man approached.

Charlie didn't even try to hide the vague look of irritation on his face as he peered up at Reginald. Not using his brain? Hell, Charlie thought he was using it too much. He thought about everything. Within seconds of stepping foot on this plane he had thought of at least seven different ways to sabotage it so that it couldn't take off. Oh, why hadn't he sabotaged the plane?

As the old man wandered off to emotionally torment the next poor soul he locked eyes with, Charlie heard Gabriel tell him not to mind Reginald. He shot his oldest brother a sideways smirk and said "Don't worry about it." He flopped back into his seat, trying to relax and added "If I took every criticism the old man threw at me to heart, I'd be an emotional wreck, curled up on the floor right now." He smiled again, trying not to think about how close he actually was to being that emotional wreck.