The backyard of their little bungalow was full to bursting with friends, teammates and their women. Laughter filled the air as another glass was lifted in a toast.

"To Hick and Annabeth," Toad called out as he lifted his glass in the air. "May your lives be filled with love, happiness and lots of little arguments that become great makeup sex."

"To Hick and Annabeth," the others called out.

They downed their drinks and slammed their cups on the huge table taking up a large portion of the yard. Annabeth looked around at the magic that had been created there and felt her eyes mist over. She was so lucky to be a part of this amazing group. They had gone all out to make their engagement party perfect.

"Those better not be tears of sorrow," Joselyn leaned over and whispered to her.

"They're not," she returned.

On the other side of her best friend, River sat with his arm around his wife's back, tenderly rubbing the large baby bump she sported as he talked with Abe. At almost seven months pregnant, she looked radiant even though she complained her ankles stayed swollen and the baby kicked incessantly. It was a beautiful sight, and it made the back of Annabeth throat tickle. This would be Joselyn's last trip before the baby came in December. She and River had flown out a few days ago to consult with the producer of the first Deidre movie. It was scheduled to be released at Christmas next year.

"How is the movie going?" Annabeth nudged her best friend.

"Amazing," Jos gushed. "I never knew that so much went into making a film. But if you want the real skinny, ask Demma. She is phenomenal as Deidre. They couldn't have picked a better actor."

Annabeth glanced down the table where the beautiful blonde starlet held court. She was surrounded by the wives of several SEALs, animatedly talking as her fiancé, Ryker McMillan watched on. Anyone could see the pride on Digger's face each time she leaned into him or touched his arm gently. They were so much in love; it was almost painful to watch.

"I plan on talking to her later if I can," Annabeth said.

"I think Alabama is a little star-struck. She told me she wanted an autograph but was afraid to ask for it. I'll put a bug in Dem's ear later to take a picture with her too." Joselyn chuckled softly. "I have a feeling social media feeds are going to blow up later tonight after everyone gets home. Between Demma and myself, I think we've taken a hundred photos."

"Ah, the life of a celebrity."

Joselyn chuckled.

"Annabeth. These clams are amazing! I've never had anything like this before. Who did you get to do the catering?" Bruiser leaned back and patted his stomach appreciatively.

"I didn't," she replied with a shrug. "Hick did it."

"The king of takeout," Railroad agreed. "He probably knows every hole in the wall dive for three counties."

"No, when I said Hick did it, I mean he did it. Everything you had tonight, he cooked."

The yard went silent as every person gawked at her. "No, seriously, where did he buy it? I bet it's that little seafood place down by the bay. You know, the one with all the antique fishing lures covering the walls," Cowboy told them. "Carls? Yeah, that's it. I bet it was Carls."

Hick chuckled softly and winked at Annabeth. "Told you," he said with a laugh. Picking up several of the plates, he took them into the house.

Annabeth glared at his teammates. "What is it with you bunch? He told me nobody would believe he cooked the meal. I don't know why you are all so shocked. Have I not been telling you bunch that he's an outstanding chef? I still don't see how it's possible that you guys don't like his cooking. After all, his family owns three five star restaurants in Boston. He even has a degree from Cambridge School of Culinary Arts!"

"Hick?" The look on the team's face was priceless.

Annabeth blew out a breath and nodded. "Yes, Hick."

Mozart looked down at the empty plate then at the shocked faces around him. "I thought you guys said never to let him cook for you? This was outstanding."

Bruiser rocketed to his feet. "Oh hell no. Hick get your ass out here. You have some 'splaining to do."

A moment later, Hick appeared at the door, carrying a large covered platter. Placing it on the table, he pulled the lid off.

"Jesus, is that tiramisu?" Finch craned his neck and gawked.

"Yep, from my grandfather's recipe."

"No, no, no. What is this? You feed us crap that would make a fly gag when we're in the field, but you have this whole hidden skill? What the hell, man?" Toad glared at him from across the table.

Hick's shoulders shook with laughter. "You guys remember how I got my rep, right?"

"Something about MRE's? Everyone was warned to not let you near anything edible. I heard one of your classmates ended up with food poisoning thanks to you." River was just as astounded as the others.

"I came in after this, but even I heard it," Railroad added.

"Tell it for the rest of us," Digger requested, "because something just isn't adding up."

Hick dropped into a chair next to Annabeth and threw his arm around her shoulders. Instinctually, she snuggled against his side. He had told her all about his reputation with the team over his food while they had been at the cabin that week. Until then, she could never understand why they always gave him a hard time. "May as well start at the beginning," she murmured.

"Yeah, good idea. So, as Annabeth said, my family owns three places in Boston. The first one, Genola's was named after my Grandmother."

"Holy cow, I've heard of Genola's. It's won major awards for the cuisine," Benny said in amazement. "But, I thought Italian immigrants owned it. Forgive me for saying, but you look more like a California surfer."

"Yeah, I know," Hick agreed with a chuckle. Annabeth could see he loved every moment of this. "My mother is Louisa Bianchi-Salter. She met and fell in love with my father while on vacation in Hawaii. He's actually from Florida, but yeah, I took after him just like my brother. My sister, Antonia looks just like Mother with an olive complexion, dark eyes and a mass of pitch black hair. We are opposites."

He let that sink in a moment before continuing. "So, anyway, in typical Italian family way, I have a lot of cousins. All of us kids were raised in the kitchens. We were expected to take over someday after our parents got old and gray, so we were taught everything. I could make a Canadian maple Crème Brulee before I hit puberty." He motioned toward the untouched desert on the table. "That took a little longer. The recipe came over with Grandfather, and we weren't allowed to learn it until we were old enough to drive. Even then, it's committed to memory. We had to swear never to write it down."

As if reminded of its presence, everyone fell into the treat. Once plates were filled, and everyone settled down, he continued.

"Fast forward a few years. I started taking classes at Cambridge while still in high school and managed to finish the year after I graduated. Then, one day, I heard the news about that attack on the Little Rock recruiting center and something clicked. I enlisted the next day, much to my mother's dismay. Then Bud/s and here I am now."

"Okay, thanks for the history lesson," Toad grumbled between mouthfuls, "but get on with it. Get to the part where you decided to try and poison us in the field."

"It happened during a training mission right out of Bud/s. I hadn't been assigned a team yet, and we were all sitting around. Being raised as a foodie and always thinking about something different. I would experiment with the MREs. It became a game. I'd grab two of them out and mix the contents then try to figure out how to make it edible. One time I got this crazy chicken pot pie and tomato mixture thing. It was awful, but I was taught never to waste food, so I dug in any way. One of the others saw me eating it and asked for a bit. He wasn't impressed."

He chuckled at the memory. "Anyway, after that, a few other times one of the guys sampled my experiments, and I got the rep of not being able to cook. It didn't bother me because I knew better. By the time I got assigned to Bruise's team, my reputation had preceded me. I saw how when you guys were picking on me and my lack of culinary prowess, it took the edge off of the anxiety during fights. So, I figured I'd keep doing it. Its sort of had its own life since then. In my defense, I never did anything that would hurt anyone. I never gave anyone food poisoning - it was just an upset stomach and it was me not someone else. Anyway, I just carried the joke on each time. I always made sure to eat anything I created, even when I had to choke it down past my gag reflex a lot. You know, to keep me honest as it were." He shrugged. "And there you have it."

"No, un uh. Wait just a damned minute. You've been carrying on this joke for seven years?" Finch stared at him incredulously. "All this time, we've been trying to figure out ways to keep you from cooking, and you've been an ace in the hole the whole time?"

Hick grinned widely. "Yup."

"I'm sorry, Annabeth, but your fiancé is about to need traction." Cowboy pushed his sleeves up and stood up menacingly. "Do you know how much money I've spent over the last seven years to ensure someone else took your turn?"

"I do, and I thank you for your support."

They all stared at each other then the entire yard burst into laughter. "Oh man, that's a good one. But you realize now that we know you can cook, you're getting KP duty for like... forever." Bruiser wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

"No hardship there. It was harder to figure out new ways to ruin a meal than it would have to fix one."

 

 

Later that night, while everyone gathered around the open fireplace in the corner of the yard toasting marshmallows, Cowboy stood in the living room of Annabeth and Hick's newly refinished house and stared at his cell. When he had gotten the message a few moments ago, he had slipped off alone. The last thing he wanted was to dampen the festive spirit and his friend's engagement party. They had been through so much; they deserved some happiness. Now, in the privacy of this room, he could let the words from his sister, Marissa seep into his brain.

Father's taken a turn for the worse. The infection has spread, and he's been airlifted to the hospital. Please call me as soon as you can.

The call hadn't been pleasant. He knew that there had been complications after his father's surgery to remove his leg just above the knee. The doctor was sure they had gotten all of the cancerous growth, but his immune system had been ravaged by the cancer treatments until there was barely anything left. Within days of coming home, the stump had grown red and swollen netting him another trip in the hospital. In the three months since the surgery, he had spent almost half of it in and out of medical facilities. What was worse, the doctors didn't want to give him any more chemo or radiation until the infection was gone. They lived with the fear that cancer would return while he was too weak to fight it. Marissa got right to the point, telling him that the infection had gotten into his bones and they were going to have to take more of his leg as soon as he was strong enough for the surgery. They were currently dumping vast amounts of antibiotics into his system. Cowboy ended the call with a promise to come home as soon as he could. He could tell his sister was scared. He raked his hand through his hair. The alpha male protector in him was rearing his head.

"Shit," he swore softly. His fingers hovered over the keys, unsure what to say. Already, he had taken emergency leave when his father went through the surgery. He had just gotten back into the swing of things and now this. Mentally calculating, he knew he had at least twenty days leave accrued. It looked like he was going to have to take it. Before he told Marissa anything, he would have to talk to Bruiser and Commander Dixon. Typing out a quick email to ask for a meeting tomorrow at their earliest convenience, he sent it.

"Hey, Alcide, are you okay?"

Cowboy felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and turned to see Digger standing there with worry on his face. "I saw you leave the party."

Shaking his head, he looked back at the cell then pocketed it. "Just some issues back home."

"Anything I can help with? You know my folks are just a few miles away from your family's spread. I know they would do anything they could."

Back in school, before he had decided to join the Navy, Cowboy had dated Digger's older cousin, Cindy. They hadn't run in the same circles, but Digger was from the same area as Cowboy. Familiarity bred comfort.

"Nah, I'm fine. So tell me, have you taken Demma home to meet the family yet?"

The puckered scar on the side of Digger's face pulled as a huge grin appeared. "Yeah, we went up a few weeks ago. We couldn't stay but a couple of days because they are still in production for the Deidre Files movie. My mom loves her, and my dad is completely enthralled. But then, that's my Demma. She manages to have everyone eating out of her hands and begging for seconds. I don't know what I ever did right to deserve that woman, but I thank my lucky stars I did. How about you? Is there anyone special on the horizon?"

Immediately, Cowboy's thoughts turned to Miley Ellison, and the last time he had been home. Her grandfather, Doc Ellison, retired from veterinary medicine last year according to Cowboy's mother and left the practice to his granddaughter. They had butted heads a few times while he had been trying to get the ranch situated, but the sparks that flew between them were more than just their combined stubbornness. She stood all of five feet nothing and maybe weighted a buck five on a good day. With short chestnut hair she kept in a bob, large grey eyes, a turned up nose, and one of those Cupid's bow pouts, she had that cute pixie look that some men found appealing. Until the moment he set eyes on her, he wouldn't have thought he was one of them. His taste had always run in the tall, leggy blonde variety. It didn't matter anyway. Miley Ellison wouldn't even give him the time of day. She was all business and no play.

"Nah, I'm a perpetual bachelor." Draping his arm around Digger's shoulders, he walked toward the back door. "Come on; let's get back to the party. This is Hick and Annabeth's time. There will be time enough for me another day."