Title: Stopping For a Beer on a Thanksgiving Eve

Author: Tinkerbell99

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The characters are not my creation, they belong to someone else.

Spoiler: 17 People, minor others

Chapter 7: Home

Tinker's digestive issues take the pressure off long enough for me to grab some turkey and escape to the other half of the house. In the interest of my mental health, I have decided to make myself as scarce as possible for the remainder of the day. Suzanne's shrieks die away as I make my way out of the kitchen area. I narrowly avoid running head on into Eric, who has been summoned to the scene of the crime with a wad of paper towels and a trash can.

I really like that cat.

In my family, a Thanksgiving dinner is not just a dinner. Sure, there's food, but the day doesn't end there. The men tend to gather in the living room and sit enraptured in front of whatever football game happens to be on. Well, most of them, anyway. Football isn't really cousin Sheldon's thing. Men? Yes. Sports? No. He spent last year re-decorating the dining room with his special friend, Mark. Need I say more? I do notice that Sheldon has some company with the women folk this year. It appears that Suzanne, traumatized by avenging cats with dietary needs, isn't letting Eric out of her sight. He sits beside her after he wipes down her shoes.

I'm surprised he isn't kneeling on the floor.

After the dishes are cleared, the rest of the day is spent gossiping, playing board games, gossiping, fawning over the newly engaged couple, and, you guessed it, gossiping. Holiday dinners usually wrap up about five o'clock. By my watch, I have a little more than four hours to kill without actually killing anyone.

Okay, Donna. You can do this.

Much to my surprise, the rest of the day actually passes pretty uneventfully. I succeed in staying away from certain shrieking shrews and instead opt for a four hour knitting lesson from Great-Aunt Florence. Looks like Amy is getting a pair of florescent orange mittens this year. If she doesn't like them, she can trade Joey Lucas for the lime green scarf or Mandy for the purple earmuffs. Just when my fingers start to blister, mom prods me into the hallway to say goodbye to Freeride and Suzanne.

Finally, this day is ending.

Suzanne holds court over a modified receiving line before heading out the front door of the house. Eric, meanwhile, makes a grand total of six trip to and from the car. I watch as he loads the diaper bag, carrier, blankets, toy bags, toys, towels, baby food, stuffed animals, and finally Layla herself into the car. Suzanne, seeing that her man-servant is finished, waves one more time (to show off the ring, I'm sure) and flounces her way into the car. An exhausted Eric melts into the driver's seat. It's at this point I realize I don't envy either of them.

They really do make the perfect couple.

"They're perfect for each other, aren't they?" I jump a mile at my mother's hand on my shoulder. She looks at me with a slightly wicked grin. "There's no one else in the world who could stand either one of them. Destiny."

"Desperation." Eric's car disappears around the corner and the day is officially done. Finally.

"Donna, I'm sorry about earlier…in the bathroom. I didn't mean to upset you. I just miss you. I wish you'd call more often."

"I know, mom." And I do. When I left Eric, I left her too. That can't be an easy thing for a mother. "And I will call more, I promise." Just refrain from asking me what I plan to name my firstborn, and we'll be fine.

She gives my shoulder a squeeze as we both gaze at the empty street. The air has a certain bite to it, like it could snow at any time. "You know, I think I may just throw out those place cards now… or at least adjust them a bit. Maybe add a bottle of beer for Eric and a picture of Tinker for Suzanne." Is this my mother talking? She turns toward me. "You deserve better, Donna. You deserve someone who wouldn't stop for anything, let alone a beer." With one small grin, she heads into the house.

Well, how about that.

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24 hours, two packets of pretzels, and one very clueless flight attendant later, my plane is landing. There's a different energy in D.C., and I feel it as soon as I'm out of the gate. Everywhere I look, there are laptops and cell phones and faces I know. It's good to be back. It's good to be here.

It is not, however, good to be in this airport.

Part of the D.C. energy includes a certain "every man for himself" mentality that is not exactly conducive to my getting out of here. I spend a half hour at the baggage claim before my tote finally sees fit to appear…three carousels down from where I've been standing. I'm a little curious as to how my bag took a flight from Sacramento when I was on one from Madison, but whatever. I'd like to get out of here someday. It's pouring down rain outside and I need to catch a cab. I'd have a better chance of convincing Josh to double date with a republican than I do of that happening, but I trudge stubbornly onward. If the guy with the Big Bird raincoat doesn't move out of my way, I'm gonna-"

"Donna!" I know that voice.

"Donna!" I attempt to spin, but as my right arm is attached to luggage, I don't get very far. Twisting my neck around, I see a dripping Josh dodging through the crowd. He narrowly avoids being impaled by a hot pink umbrella before skidding to a stop in front of me.

"Josh," he's dripping on my shoes. "What are you doing here?" He's actually kind of cute when he's soaking wet. Or any time, really, but...oh, never mind.

"I came to pick you up." What? This isn't the Josh I'm used to.

"Why?"

"Why? Because the last time I talked to you, you were hiding in a pantry from your dairy farming "kinfolk" freaking out while a cat threw muffins at you." There's the Josh I'm used to.

"It was muffin mix."

"Huh?"

"The cat. It threw muffin mix. Knocked it down, actually. How'd you know when I was coming in?"

"I've been calling your phone since this morning, but all I got was your voicemail." Oops. Should have actually re-charged the battery. Would have done so, too, had the charger not been located on my kitchen table…at my apartment in D.C.

"Yeah, I kind of dropped the ball on that one."

"I guessed. Anyway I finally called your mom and she told me the flight number. She also said to tell you that you owe your father a bottle of scotch." Oh. Right. The rusty nails. Oops.

"I'll send him one for Christmas."

We pace in silence for a few seconds before I'm brave enough to ask the question on my mind.

"Josh? Why did you really come? I mean, I doubt it was to protect me from cats with breakfast items."

"Right. Well, I just wanted to…to…I just…" Spit it out, Josh. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Through the rivulets of water on his face, I can see in his eyes that he means it. This isn't even seriously-sweet-if-misguided Josh. This is just Josh.

"Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." We turn a corner and together start rolling to his car. A few steps later, I look at my watch and another thought occurs to me. "Shouldn't you be at work?" It's barely five o'clock. There's no way he's done this early.

"Nah. There really wasn't much happening 'cause of the holiday. We finished up early with the pig people - who, by the way, settled for a photograph of the President eating a ham - and that was about it. Everybody else took off for the Hawk and Dove to go celebrate so I came here. I would have been here sooner, too, if not for Officer Munson on Connecticut who apparently has some form of red-yellow color blindness and needed me to give her a tutorial. I succeeded, though. Not even a ticket. I tell you Donna, I…Donna? What's wrong?"

I've stopped several feet behind him, a grin slowly spreading over my face.

"Donna, you okay?"

He didn't stop for a beer.

He didn't stop for red lights.

"Donna?"

He wouldn't stop for anything.

"I'm fine, Josh. I'm just…I'm happy I'm home."

And I am. I'm happy, and…I'm home.

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A/N: Well, that's all folks! Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented on this story. It's the longest and most lighthearted thing I've ever tried to write and I had a blast. This story was a borderline addiction for me - I'm sad it's over!

About the story: I struggled a bit with wanting to tell a more serious story and wanting to "bring the funny." I tried to combine the two. Hopefully it doesn't read like a series of mood swings. I also went back and forth with wanting to include Josh and wanting to write a story about Donna - strong on her own. In the end, I couldn't resist a little (very little) JD 'ship as a conclusion.

Cat yodeling, cat hacking, cat thievery, and various cat-related injuries based on actual events.

If you got this far, hit review and let me know what you thought. I'm going to have to do this again sometime! Thanks for reading!

Tinkerbell99