How Severus Spends His Summer Hols

AN: For those that haven’t heard, Kellie came out of surgery just fine and is on the road to recovery. We want to thank all of you for the well wishes and prayers, they are gratefully appreciated. We hope you enjoy this chapter and we’ll try to get to the next as soon as Kellie is able. Many thanks to Joyce for the beta.


Harry kissed Severus good-bye as the man left for the shop. As he went back into the kitchen of their house, Harry contemplated all of the things he would be responsible for in the next two days. He was cooking Thanksgiving dinner all by himself since Allie was in hospital and Grant was helping with Sarah, and had come out of retirement to help with some of the easy cases at the practice.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and pulled one of a small stack of cookbooks to him. Sighing, he opened it and tried to decide what he was making, and to figure out the conversions. The young man wondered if it wasn't too late to order the meal from the bed and breakfast there in town.

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Jason was walking along the shoulder of the two lane highway heading into Echo and his job at the Mortar and Pestle, sidestepping the puddles of slushy, icy water and dodging the kicked up spray as logging trucks and cars sped past.

Severus pulled over to the side of the road just ahead of Jason and stopped. He leaned out the truck window. "What do you think you are doing?" he demanded. "Get in this truck. Why didn't you call me?"

Jason looked up as his boss ordered him to the truck, raising an eyebrow, and considered telling the man to fuck off. After all, he wasn't on the clock yet and the snarky Brit had no right to shout orders at him.

"I'm walking to work, Professor, and I didn't call because it's not raining and the walk isn't that bad," he replied neutrally as he walked up to the truck.

Severus frowned. "Nonetheless, you are with child and it's on my way into town. The motorists in this state leave something to be desired and I do not wish to scrape you from the blacktop one morning."

Jason noticed Harry was not in the truck and wondered if he was all right. Going around to the passenger side, he opened the door and climbed in.

"Is Harry sick this morning?" Jason asked as he closed the door and pulled his seat belt over his chest to fasten it. "Thank you for the ride."

Severus nodded and pulled back onto the road. "Harry is well. He has decided to make Thanksgiving dinner." He looked over at Jason and smiled. "Would you like to join us?"

"For Thanksgiving?" Jason asked as he turned and stared out the windshield. "That's like a family thing, Professor."
For a moment he thought of past celebrations he'd spent with his family, and then thought about the squirrel dumplings he'd be fixing for his own Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday.

Severus made a face, uncertain of how to proceed. The minute he had hired the young man and learned some of his situation, Severus had decided he was now his to protect. He wrinkled his nose. "The first Native Americans were not friends with the White settlers. They made them their family in a time of strife."

He pulled into a parking space behind the building that housed the practice and his shop. "You are family now, Jason, and more than welcome to join us. We would love to have you," he said softly as he looked at the younger man.

Opening the door, Jason grinned at his boss. "I'll think about it. I think my social calendar is clear that day," he laughed. "Harry's cooking?"

Severus opened the door and nodded. "Merlin help us all, but yes he is." He shook his head and closed the door, drawing the keys to the back of the shop from his pocket. "He did fine a few weeks ago, but I shall brew some Botoxen in precaution. Damon has been talking with him so I thought it prudent."

Jason took off his coat and donned his apron as he thought about what Severus had said. He'd never had any of Harry's cooking, but he'd heard some scary tales about undercooked meat and cooked to mush vegetables from Doctor Sorens' wife.

"Would you like me to bring a dish?"

"You may, if you so desire. We would enjoy sharing your generosity." Severus removed the till from the lock safe in his office and handed it to Jason, smiling. "I exaggerate a bit about Harry's cooking. He has been taking lessons from Grant and myself, and he does very well. He made the best roast and Yorkshire but a few weeks ago." Severus rubbed his stomach and chuckled.

He walked over to the door and unlocked it. "Ready to start the day?"

Jason gave the man a thumb's up as he set the till into the register and pushed the drawer shut. "Let 'em in."

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Grant stopped by Jennifer's desk after leaving an elderly man in exam room two, setting his file in a small stack.

"Mister Eagen is ready to go. Is there anyone for me to see?" he asked as he leaned against the doorframe, his white coat gleaming and sharply pressed.

He'd come out of retirement for a short time to help Max out by taking some of his less complicated cases while he was staying with Allie in the hospital. Grant had not done physical medicine in years, really not since his internship, but he felt he was competent enough for runny noses and tummy aches.

Jennifer grinned at Doctor Wolffe, "You have a thirty minute break, Doctor, if you'd like to take a load off your feet." She flipped up some pages. "Missus Farnsworth will be coming in. She just needs her regular physical exam - not the well woman exam - and a prescription renewal on her blood pressure medicine."

She smiled at him again and turned around, pouring him a cup of coffee and offering him a cookie that one of the drug representatives had supplied for the staff.

Grant took the cookie, stuffing it in his mouth before taking the coffee cup. Chewing, his cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk's, he looked over his next patient’s file and promptly spat the half chewed treat in the waste can.

"Margaret Farnsworth?" he asked, his voice pitched slightly higher as he tapped his finger on the file.

"Mmmhmm. Why do you ask?" Jennifer looked at the cookie Doctor Wolffe had spat out, then back at the container. "Doctor, were the cookies off?" She picked one up between her forefinger and thumb, eyeing the possible offending raisin and oatmeal confection.

Grant closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his temples. "The cookie was fine, Jennifer, just some information turned my stomach," he muttered as he thought for a moment and then smiled.

"She's not here yet, is she?" he asked hopefully. Grant thought he could cancel her appointment and just call her refill in.

The door opened and in walked Margaret Farnsworth. She let the door close loudly behind her, walking up to the nurse’s desk in a cloud of perfume under-laced with alcohol of the Jack Daniels variety. She laid her large bag-style purse up on the counter, and popped her gum three times in rapid succession.

"Hello, Jenny. I'm here for my time with Doctor Max." She looked up after she had dug out her insurance card and checkbook. She narrowed her eyes at Grant, still chewing the gum, open-mouthed. "Oh... I forgot. Excuse me. Doctor Wolffe."

Stifling a groan, Grant pasted a smile on his face and nodded to the woman he despised. "Hello, Miss Farnsworth. I hope you are having a good day," he said as he tapped her file on the desk and turned to Jennifer. "You can take her back to exam one and I'll see her now," he said, the smile frozen on his face beginning to hurt as he fought the urge to toss his hot coffee at the bimbo.

"T’was fine till I walked in here," Margaret muttered but smiled nonetheless. She passed Jennifer her card and check for her co-payment, as she slung her massive purse over her should again and popped the gum several times once more.

Jennifer stared between the two of them and shook her head. Not wanting to know... really. "Thank you, Mizz Farnsworth. Just have a seat and I'll take you back in a moment."

Margaret nodded and turned away plopping her thin frame onto a chair and popping the gum again. She picked up a magazine, not looking at that man while she waited.

Grant went back to the dictation station and took several deep breaths to steady his nerves. He really, really did not like that woman. Margaret Farnsworth had attempted to cause more problems in his marriage than anything else he could think of, right down to groping Damon's butt in front of him.

Licking his lips, he pulled out his cell phone and punched the button for the bar, waiting for Damon to pick up.

Damon glared at the phone when it began to ring again. All morning people had been calling to ask about his hours, and to order jugs of tea for the upcoming holiday. They were extremely busy as well for the early lunch crowd, and it was the last day they were open before Thanksgiving. He grabbed the interruption and wedged it between his ear and shoulder while he continued to fill glasses with soda for the large party that had just walked in the door.

"Cutty's Bar and Grill. Damon speaking. How can I help you?" He set the glasses on a tray, moved the phone, whistled for the waitress and began filling more glasses.

"It's me. I know you are busy, but I just needed to know something," Grant said, listening to the racket coming over the phone and the steady voice of his husband. The small doctor looked up in time to see Jennifer leading Margaret Farnsworth to the scale before taking her to the exam room.

"I love you, I want you and I always will. Does that answer your question?" Damon settled another tray of drinks on the bar and whistled again, then ducked behind the swinging doors to find the Cisco truck arriving with his order. He groaned and opened the back kitchen doors.

Grant smiled at the words and nodded. "Thank you. That's what I needed to hear. Now I'll leave you be and I'll see you for lunch, alright?" he said softly. "Love you too."

“Yeah, gotta go.” Damon shook his head and hung up the phone muttering about the holidays and crazy Injuns.

Ending the call, Grant walked the short distance to the occupied room, picking up the file from the holder by the door, and giving a sharp rap on the door. "Hello?" he said as he opened the door.

Margaret smiled simperingly at the man. "Come in, Doctor Wolffe," she sniffed, and popped her gum loudly. "When will Max be returning?"

Grant pasted a professional smile on his face as he took a seat on the little rolling stool, and opened her file. "I would imagine Doctor Sorens will return after the birth of his child. So tell me how you have been feeling, Miss Farnsworth," he asked as he looked over Max's notes, noticing many entries citing alcoholism and depression.

Margaret sighed and shifted on the exam table. "I'm doing just dandy, Doctor Wolffe. All's I need is my blood pressure medicine." She looked at her feet and popped her gum again.

Grant peered over the rims of his glasses at her. "The chart says an exam for your insurance today, Margaret," he said. He figured she was going to be difficult and not allow him to treat her, but that was her decision. Max would not be back in time to fulfill her insurance company's request.

Margaret raised her eyebrow at him and sighed. "Well then, who am I to contradict the doctor and the insurance company?" She held out her arm so he could take her blood pressure and looked at the ceiling. Never in her life had she thought to be in this position with the person that had stolen her sweetie from her.

Grant wrapped the cuff around her arm, trying not to grimace from the smell of whiskey that surrounded her. "How much have you had to drink today, Margaret?" he asked softly. He didn't want a fight with the woman in the office, but he couldn't treat her if she was sauced. "Have you been taking your blood pressure potions?"

Somewhere in his conscious Grant began to feel a worm of pity for the woman in front of him. She was only a year or so older than he was, and had pined for years for his husband.

Margaret frowned. "I had just a dollop in my coffee this morning, if you have to know and yes, I've been taking my potions." She looked away from him. "I've been seeing Doctor Taylor in Wheeling as well about this. He's been helping me a lot... with the drink," she said softly.

Grant smiled warmly. "Is he a Muggle doctor?" he asked as he noted her pressure on her chart and sat back down in front of her, her wrist held in his fingers as he took her pulse. "Are you on any medication for it?"

Margaret nodded then stilled again. "He wants to put me on some Muggle drugs... Lexapro I think it was. But only after I've finished drinking." She looked at the ceiling again. "I'm down to three drinks a day," she said softly.

Grant nodded, listening to her. Damon had mentioned to him that the woman was no longer closing the bar every night of the week, and hadn't been for several months. "Has Max talked to you about some of the Wizarding aids that can be used to help curb any cravings?" he asked as he sat back and regarded her through more understanding eyes.

Margaret nodded. "Yes, we decided when I could get down to a certain number then we try it, but I had to want it first," she murmured softly, shaking her head. She looked at him quickly, then back at her feet, popping the gum again. "Are we finished yet?"

"Almost. I need to listen to your heart and lungs before I turn you loose," Grant said as he scooted forward, stethoscope in hand. "I have every faith that you'll get to where you want to be, Margaret."

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Davy picked up Sarah from where she was colouring a picture at his desk at the hospital, putting the little girl on his hip before he gave her a kiss on her cheek.
"How about going up and seeing Mommy and Daddy?" he asked the toddler as he carried her out the door and to the elevator, stopping for a moment in the kitchens to retrieve the bowl of pineapple he'd asked for earlier.

With the small child chattering away happily in his ear and showing him the drawings she'd made for Bubba and Mommy, Davy rode the elevator up to Maternity and walked down the hall to Allie Sorens' room. Knocking on the door, he waited for an answer.

Max jumped at the knock and looked over at Allie. She was sleeping peacefully on her side; the amplified sound of the steady beat of little Max's heart quietly filling the room. He looked up at the clock and sighed, then got up and padded to the door. He opened it a crack and spotted Davy and Sarah, and he smiled weakly, opening the door a bit wider.

"Hi, baby girl." He held his arms out for her and took her from Davy. He eyed Davy for a moment then turned back to Sarah. "I know you've been an angel for Davy this morning."

"She's been a doll, Max. Slept all night and had a bath this morning," Davy said as he stepped into the room and stood by the wall. "I thought it might be good for her to see you and your wife."

Davy looked down at the bowl of pineapple he was carrying and sighed uncomfortably. "I thought your wife might like this," he said, shrugging his shoulder as he set the dish on the nightstand.

"Allie's sleeping, but I will tell her you thought of her." Max bounced Sarah in his arms, then eyed Davy again. "Has Greg come in today? I'd like to hear about my patients." He sat down in the chair and nodded at the other one for Davy. "How's your new place?"

Max listened to Sarah babble while he oohed and ahhed over her pictures.
Davy sat down on the edge of the offered chair and looked at Max's bare feet. "Gregory told me that Grant was seeing most of your patients. The apartment is fine, thank you for the lead on it.”

Max nodded and stared at Davy for a moment. "That's good." He bounced Sarah again and let her go as she wiggled on his lap. He watched as she went over to Davy and held his face in her hands for a moment then climbed up into his lap, hugging him tightly. She got back down and sat in the floor between the two of them, colouring on the pages once more.

"So..." Max had no idea what to say to the man that had effectively stolen Gregory's heart from him.

Davy smiled tightly and stood up. "If Sarah can stay with you until Grant comes for her, I should go back down and get some work done," he said, stooping to give Sarah a kiss on the top of her head. "If your wife wants anything special, just have them get a message to me and I'll see that she has it." Without waiting for an answer, Davy turned and slipped back out the door quietly.

Max watched Davy walk out of the room. He admired the way the man's bottom moved under the dress pants then shook his head. It had been too long since he had indulged in the masculine form if he was admiring Davy, as well as thinking about Gregory. He slid down to the floor to play with Sarah while Allie slept.

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Damon sighed when there was a lull in the lunch rush as he cashed out a check and sent the change back with the waitress. The phone rang and he glared at it then fitted the headphones over his ears, answering curtly. "Cutty's. This is Damon speaking.”

Harry winced as he heard his father-in-law's voice come over the line, and he wondered if he should have called someone else... like his Aunt Petunia.

"Hello, sir, this is Harry. I'm sorry to bother you, but how do you sew up a turkey? It's frozen," he asked as he looked at the twenty odd pound frozen fowl sitting in the kitchen sink. "Grant's cookbook says I have to sew it up."

Damon snorted. "Harry, I'm really busy, so I can't talk long. But I do know you have to thaw the bird first. But I don't know anything about sewing it up. Put it back in the fridge and wait." He shook his head and sighed. "Anything else I can help you with? Make it quick, Bit." He paused. "Whatever you do don't thaw it with your wand."

Harry snorted in indignation. "I'm not Grant," he sniffed and then laughed. "Is Grant still at the practice?" He remembered the story of and exploding frozen chicken the small doctor had tried to thaw with magic.

Damon laughed out loud. "Yes! Call Grant at the practice. He still hasn't shown up for lunch yet. Be careful, Harry." Damon hung up the phone and shook his head, turning to another waitress as she brought him a new order.

Harry hung up the telephone to dial the practice, waiting for the call to be answered while he looked over the cookbook in front of him. He had no earthly idea why someone would need to sew up a turkey, and couldn't imagine how hygienic that could possibly be. After his little bout of vomiting a few days before, he didn't want to take any chances on odd foods.

"Echo Family Practice. This is Jennifer. How may I direct your call?" Jennifer typed something on the keyboard and waited on the caller, hand now poised over the switchboard.

"Hi, Jennifer, this is Harry Snape," Harry said and then thought of something. Jennifer was a girl; she would know how to do this. "Jennifer, how do you sew up a turkey?"

"With thread?" Jennifer stared at the computer screen, trying not to laugh. "Um… Harry, love, I'm sorry but I go to my mother's for Thanksgiving. I've never cooked a turkey in my life." She stopped. "How did you cut a hole in the turkey anyway?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "I have to cut a hole in the bloody thing?" he asked, horrified at what he'd agreed to do. Why in the name of Merlin's beard had he offered to cook Thanksgiving dinner for Severus' family? Oh yeah, that's right. Grant had said he'd do it with him, but that was all in the past now.

"Erm... is Grant there?" he asked as he wondered if it were too late to just make buttys.

Jennifer chuckled. "Yeah, I think he's still here. Let me transfer you back. Good luck, Harry." She placed him on hold and sent the call back to Max's office that Doctor Wolffe was borrowing. "Doctor Wolffe, Harry Snape's on line two."

Grant looked up and made a face. He still had at least six patients to see, and he was having trouble getting labs ordered for the one he was currently seeing. He punched the lit button.

"Hey, Harry, are you alright?" he asked, scribbling some notes on the chart in front of him.

"Grant, I didn't cut a hole in the turkey, but it says to tie it up and it's still frozen. What do I do?" Harry asked in one breath then took a deep one. "I'm brill, how are you?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, cut a hole in the turkey?" Grant asked, a puzzled look on his face. He really didn't have time, but he knew Harry was in over his head.

Harry sighed. "Damon said not to thaw it with my wand. Jennifer said to cut a hole in it and then sew it up with thread. The cookbook you gave me says to truss it up." He stopped and thought for a moment. "Oh, and Damon wants to know why you aren't at the bar for lunch as well."

Running a hand over his head, Grant blew his breath out and groaned as he realized what time it was. "Harry, don't worry about it. I'll call and order a meal, okay? And I'll get to Cutty's as soon as I can. You just go lie down or something, okay?" he said as he stood to go back to see his patient.

"No!" Harry shouted then stopped. Dammit, he could do this... if he could just get a spot of help from someone. It was a matter of pride now that Grant had decided he couldn't and was going to take the easy way out. "Please. I... I'm sorry, Grant. I really wanted to do this. Please," he pled more softly than he had a moment ago. "I have to do this."

Grant closed his eyes and bit his tongue. He was afraid the younger man was in over his head and sinking fast. "Alright, Harry. I'll do my best to be there after I get out of here and pick up Sarah, okay? I can't talk you through it right now, I've got patients to see."

"No, I know you're busy. I apologize. I'll work on it and try to suss it out." Harry sighed. "I'll tell Damon about you being in soon as well. I just hope I don't disappoint everyone," he said softly.

"Harry, you could feed them bologna and cheese on toast and they'll lap it up. Don't worry so much about it. Don't call Damon, I'll have Jennifer call in a bit to let him know," Grant said as he nodded to the nurse standing in the doorway. "I'll speak with you this evening, Harry."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "There is no way I am serving Sev bologna on Thanksgiving. I like my skin where it is, thank you very much. Ta, Grant."

Murmuring a hasty good bye, Grant hung up and hurried from the sanctuary of the office to deal with a patient.

Harry hung the receiver up and stared at it for a long moment. He felt like giving up, but now, now it seemed everyone expected him to fail at this. Turning back to the archaic cookbook, he glared at the information. As a last resort, Harry picked up the telephone once more and dialled the Mortar and Pestle; he needed his Husband to tell him things would be all right.

Jason closed the till draw and put a hand on his lower back, stretching carefully so as to not tip over. He glared at the phone then plucked it up and said jovially, "Mortar and Pestle! How can I help you?"

"Hi, Jason, this is Harry. How are things down there?"

"Oh, hi, Harry. Pretty busy. The Professor has been in his lab all day brewing. People are getting ready for the holiday." Jason tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder, then sat down on the stool the Professor had placed behind the desk for him and Harry. "I got a breather since most everyone's gone after the lunch rush. What are you doing?"

Harry shook his head, wishing that he'd gone in with Severus to help out. He knew they'd been terribly busy the past week. Not certain if his husband had invited Jason for the meal, Harry was reluctant to ask the other man for advice that could possibly lead to hurt feelings.

"Could I talk to him for a mo, please?" he asked, figuring Severus may have an idea as to how to go about this.

"Sure. Do you think it's alright for me to knock on his door? It's been closed for a while now." Jason scooted off the stool and waddled back to the lab door, knocking softly.

"If he yells, just tell him I'm on the phone," Harry said as he waited. He knew Severus hated to be disturbed while he was working, and would make sure the man knew he'd asked Jason to disturb him.

Severus pulled open his door and looked down at Jason. "Yes? What is it?" he demanded.

Jason took a step back and raised an eyebrow at him. "It's Harry, Professor."

Severus' face softened and he nodded. "Thank you, Jason. I'll pick up the extension in here." He watched the pregnant man waddle back to the desk, and closed his office door. He cast a stasis spell on his cauldron before picking up the phone.

"Hello? I've got it Jason." He waited for the click then spoke again. "Harry, is something the matter? Are you well?"

"Hello, Sev. No, I'm alright. Please don't be angry with Jason, I asked him to disturb you. You weren't in the middle of anything vital, were you?" Harry asked hesitantly, wondering if this had been a good idea after all.

"Nothing explosive, but it is something I do need to finish. Now, if you aren’t bleeding severely from any orifice on your body, then I need to get back to work." Severus ran a hand over his forehead and sighed. "Make it quick, little one."

"It's nothing, Sir, I'm sorry I bothered you," Harry said softly. "I'll see you this evening." The young man hung the telephone up and sighed. Great, now Severus was irritated with him. Maybe he should just let Grant order a meal to be catered in.

Severus stared at the phone for a moment then quickly dialled the Overlook once more.

Harry picked up on the first ring as he closed the cookbook he'd been looking at. "Snape residence. May I help you?"

"Harry, you didn't bother me. I'll always have time for you. Tell me what the problem is and I shall try to help you the best I can," Severus said firmly but calmly.

"It's stupid, Sev. I can't make myself understand how to fix this damnable meal for everyone," Harry fumed, pushing the offensive book away from him. "Do you know how to do this? Grant wants to just hire the meal in."

Severus cringed. "My Harry, I've never done this before either." He shook his head and sighed. "First off, calm down. It's just a meal. Secondly..." He couldn't believe he was doing this. He took a deep breath. "Why don't you call Davy? I am certain he would be able to help you."

Harry's eyes widen as he listened to his husband. "I don't know Davy," he said softly, not sure if he wanted to call his husband's former paramour for advice.

Severus cleared his throat. "It's time you should. I feel he could help you, Harry, and you did say you wanted to be friendly with him, did you not?"

Harry thought for a moment. Severus was right as usual. "I'll call him. Is he at the hospital?"

Severus looked up at the clock. "He should be. If not, then I have his mobile number here." He rattled off the number to his husband. "You are going to do just fine, Harry. I am proud of you for wanting to do this, and I know the meal will be brilliant just like the last one you made." He sighed. "Now, I really must get back to work, Harry. I love you. Take care, little one."

"I love you too, Husband. I'll see you tonight," Harry said as he looked at the number he'd written down before he broke the connection.

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Davy was finishing up showing one of the kitchen workers the proper way to handle a knife when he heard the telephone ring. Smiling at the older woman and patting her back, he stepped away to pick up the portable phone.

"Kitchen. This is David Corrican."

Harry bit his lip. "Davy... this is Harry Snape. Did I disturb you while you are working? Sev said it was alright to call."

Davy nearly dropped the phone in shock, but quickly recovered his composure. "Uhh... hi. What can I do for you?" he asked as he took the phone back to his little office and closed the door.

Harry took a deep breath, and asked his original question. "How do you sew up a turkey?"

"With a trussing needle and butcher twine," Davy replied automatically, an eyebrow raised at the question. "Why?"

Harry scratched his head and pulled the cookbook towards him again. "The cookbook Grant gave me says I need to?" he answered questioningly.

"How old is that cookbook? And what are you going to do with the turkey?" Davy asked as he wrote down some notes for the night cook.

"Umm..." Harry flipped to the front of the book. "1936. Damon's mother gave a copy of this to Grant, and he made one for me." He got up from the table and poured him a glass of Kool-Aid, then sat back down.

"I'd thought to roast it, but it's still frozen solid. Damon told me to put it back in the fridge and let it thaw. Grant said he'd just call into town for a take out meal. But I really want to cook this for everyone. I didn't do too badly when I made roast beef and a Yorkshire a few weeks back. Grant let me do the cooking while he supervised. It was really rather good. Well, Allie didn't like it, but Sev and everyone else did..." He trailed off realizing he had been babbling.

Davy smiled; he could remember how nervous he'd been when he'd cooked the first holiday meal for Gregory's family. "Would you like some help?" he asked, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Harry sighed. "Merlin yes! Would you? Please? I've never made a turkey before, and after Damon told me about the exploding chicken, I want to make certain I do it right. It's our first major American holiday."

Exploding chicken? Davy wasn't going to ask. Laughing softly, he stuffed a few things into his messenger bag to take with him. "I'm finished here. Would you like me to come out now?"

Harry looked around the kitchen, and then down at his clothing. He was still wearing the short robe and sweats he'd first put on this morning. The frozen bird sat in the sink, and there were fresh vegetables laid out all over the counters. Well, they were about to cook, and this was as comfortable as he could get.

"Yes, thank you." He gave the directions to Davy. "Gregory won't be upset will he?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll call him though. This just means he can stop at Cutty's and have a steak," Davy chuckled. "You said the turkey is still frozen?"

"Yes. I've it sitting in the sink now." Harry stood and peered into the fridge, looking for something to make for dinner. He had forgotten all about it in the rush to prepare Thanksgiving dinner properly. He’d think of something, but Merlin, now he wanted a steak, too. "You are more than welcome to eat here with Sev and I. Both of you."

"We'll see, Harry. I haven't talked to Greg yet," Davy said as he started out of his office. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt about being in Severus' presence without his husband, especially since Severus had married Harry Freaking Potter. He knew he could be nothing but a pile of ash if he pissed the small wizard off.

Harry nodded, then realized Davy couldn't see him. "Oh... alright. I'll just wait until you knock me up then."

"Until I what?" Davy nearly yelped as he banged smack into one of the long prep tables.

Harry jumped as Davy's voice screeched in his ear. "Knock me up. You know, ring me on the telephone." He frowned. "Are you well?"

Davy blushed furiously as he noticed some of the kitchen workers looking at him. "Yeah, I'm fine Harry. I just thought... Never mind what I thought. Call you, yeah, I can do that," he said quickly as he retreated back to his office and kicked the door shut behind him.

Harry brightened. "Yeah, alright then. Ta ever so, Davy."

Davy hung the telephone up, still shaking his head and chuckling. His life here in Echo was definitely going to be interesting.

Out in the parking lot, he got into the car, pulled his cell phone out and punched in the number for his husband at the clinic.

Gregory was bent over his desk, making notes in a chart when his phone chirped in the silence. He jumped and dug in his lab coat pockets, grinning as he recognized Davy's cell number. "Hello, My David. How was your day?"

Grinning as he heard his husband's voice, Davy turned the key in the ignition and sat back to let the engine warm. "It was good. How about yours?" he asked as he stared out over the pinewoods behind the hospital.

Gregory leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. "Busy. Why is it when there is a holiday, everyone's prescriptions always run out? Speaking of which, do you have enough insulin to last for the weekend?"

Davy thought for a moment, trying to remember the amount in the vials at home. "I... don't know. Could you pick some up?" he asked. "I'm heading out to see Harry."

Gregory startled at that information, fell out of the reclining chair with a yelp and dropped the phone. He picked up the phone and stood quickly, looking around to make certain his door was closed. "You are going where?"

Davy heard the exclamation and sucked his breath between his teeth. "Out to see Harry. He needs help with the big meal he's cooking. Is that alright, sir?" he asked, as he ran his thumbnail along the steering wheel.

Gregory let out the breath he had been holding. "I suppose. Do you feel safe going out there to help him? I know Severus isn't going to be there for a bit, but..." He bit his lip as he trailed off. "Hey, what am I to eat for dinner?"

Davy bit his lower lip; Gregory had a hell of a point. "He invited us for supper, but you could stop at the bar and eat if you wanted to," he replied and then spoke again. "Would you rather I not go out?"

Gregory thought about it for a moment. If he had to learn to deal with Max, despite the liberties the other man had taken, then Davy could deal with Harry. "I will join you if you would like me to. I have one more patient to see if you want to wait."

"Just one?" Davy asked, considering running to the market to pick up a few things to take out to the Overlook. "I could go by Clangman's and pick you up."

"Just the last, My Davy." He glanced at his desk phone as it buzzed and nodded as Jennifer told him Caitlyn Masters had arrived. "There she is now. It's a quick check-up, Pet, so I will leave that up to you."

"I'll pick you up in forty-five minutes, okay?" Davy said as he shifted the car into gear and pulled out of his parking space.

"Alright. I love you, Davy. Be careful."

Gregory hung up the phone and picked up the charts to drop off on Jennifer’s desk. Tonight was going to be interesting.