In which they play the name game.

[hitchhiker_girl]

[Cowritten with smart_alec494. Sam = imnot_likeyou, Dean = hasperkynipples, Nate and Luke = thewallacetwins. Everyone else is an NPC. Set after THIS.]

He sat there. In the kitchen. All night. He didn't leave the chair and didn't move much aside from slowly eating the piece of cake. He didn't sleep either and he was pretty sure he should. He just sat and let his thoughts bang around in his head.

The more time passed the more he was sure he'd be nothing but spare parts. He was almost sick a few times just thinking about it. Spare parts were no good if they were dead. And he. . . he. . .

He sat there.

Mama was usually the first one up, wanting to get a start on breakfast as the house's residents rolled through. When she walked into the kitchen and found 494 still sitting there, she paused, confused, before giving him a small smile. "You been sittin' there all night, baby?"

He nodded. He had no idea why she would call him 'baby' but as he was the only person available he figured she had to mean him.

She gave him a soft look, before heading over towards the stove. "Are you hungry? I could fix you somethin' if you want?"

He shrugged. If she fed him he would eat gratefully but he wouldn't ask. He had learned that you just didn't ask.

She would take the shrug for a yes. "What do you like to eat for breakfast? Cereal, eggs? I think I might have some bacon, if you wanted it."

Answering a question he could do. "Eggs, bread, sometimes oatmeal. Fruit." He silently and fervently hoped she didn't come up with grapes or blueberries.

Mama nodded slowly. "How do you like your eggs?"
Again the direct question gained her an answer. "Scrambled."

She moved about the kitchen, gathering the ingredients, before nodding towards the bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. "Have all the fruit you want, honey. There's more where that came from."

He nodded and then picked out an apple, sniffing before taking a bite.

She went about what she was doing, cooking for a moment, before glancing back at him over her shoulder. "So what were you thinkin' about?"

"A lot of stuff." He turned the apple carefully in his hands. "Some times I was just. . .not thinking at all."

She nodded slowly. "Figure any of it out?"

"I don't know. Maybe." A lot of it hinged on questions he wanted to ask Sam and Dean.

"Well, at least you're not back where you started," she said, going to put some bread for him in the toaster, before looking back at him again. "Do you want some bacon with this? Or cheese on the eggs?"

He shrugged. Bacon was not really on the healthy food list nor was cheese on eggs she he was at a loss.

"Just eggs, then," she said with a nod, before starting to get the plate together, scooping out some eggs, placing toast on the corner of the plate, and placing the plate down in front of him.

"Thanks." He ate the eggs first. They always went a little funny if they got cold.

"No problem," she nodded, before going to turn on a pot of coffee, before cooking some breakfast for herself.

He sniffs at the coffee. It always smelled so good when the staff had it, but the transgenics never got any. He did like the way it smelled though.

Mama placed her plate and mug of coffee down on the table, before looking over at him. "Would you like some?"

". . . . .maybe?" He was hesitant. Very hesitant.

She smirked a bit at that, before getting up to pour him a cup, placing it down in front of him.

He sniffed it appreciatively. and then took a sip, expecting it to taste as good as it smell. He nearly spit it out nose wrinkling up terribly. "Yick!" It was pretty much involuntary.

Mama chuckled softly, before nudging the sugar bowl towards him. "Add as much as you like."

He blinked at it. He knew what it was, sure but still. He added some to his coffee, stirred and tried again, making a different face. "Now its really sweet and still bitter."

Mama moved over to the fridge and came back with some milk, handing it over to him. "Try this."

He dumped in as much as he could fit and then tried again. "Better."

"Good," she nodded, before settling in to eat her own food.

He sipped at it and worked his way through his toast. And then the rest of his apple. After hesitating a moment he picked up another.

Mama was working her way through her own eggs when Sam stumbled into the room, rubbing at his eyes. "Coffee," he said with a bit of a mumble as he went to pour himself his own cup. Once he had his cup and took a sip, he looked over the two of them with a soft mumble. "Morning."

"Morning, honey," Mama replied. "Hungry?"

Sam just shook his head, before looking over at 494. "How'd you sleep, dude?"

"I didn't," He took a bite of his apple.

"Oh," Sam nodded, before moving to sit down on the table. "You know, Dean probably has something in your size if you want to take a shower or something."

"Maybe." He considered, watching Sam with a decidedly cat-like stare.

Sam watched him back for a minute, before raising his eyebrows slightly and looking down at his coffee. "Well, if you decide one way or another -- all you have to do is ask."

"Why do you want me? I mean if I stay, what are you going to do with me?"

"Don't know," Sam replied with a bit of a shrug. "That'd be up to you. If you wanted, you could come hunting with me and Dean." Because there was no doubt that he was capable. They'd seen evidence of that. "You could travel a bit. Go to school, if you wanted. I mean, you've got lots of possibilities."

"I don't know why I look like Dean." Because yeah, he'd heard them talking. "You don't have a responsibility to me because of it."

"Never said we did," Sam replied with a shrug. "That's not why we pulled you out of there, dude. We just thought you needed help."

He pondered this. "What if you get sick of me?" Because he knew he needed to be part of a group. At least in the long run. He could do his own thing, but they he came back to the group. It was just the way he was.

"Dude, I've been traveling with Dean pretty much non-stop since I was twenty-two," Sam replied with a sigh. "We don't get sick of people easy. And if you happen to get sick of us, there's nothing wrong with taking a break from people or switching it up a bit. There's lots of people in the house that probably wouldn't mind taking on a third sometimes, especially for some of the bigger jobs."

He nodded a little, turning this all over. He had options. And that was honestly scary as hell. But slightly less terrifying that being kept in a box for spare parts when he knew they wouldn't even kill him first. That made him almost loose his breakfast. He nodded again, more decisively. "Any of you good with a knife?"

Sam nodded. "Sure. Why?"

"Because I've got a tracker and I can't reach it. And I'm thinking you want it on a train, plane or car heading away from here pretty soon."

"Good point," Sam said with a nod, before putting his cup down on the table. "Want to take care of it now?"

"Yeah. Might as well get it done." Nothing like pain in the morning. But it was less here than if he went back. He finished his second apple and set the core down on his plate.

Sam nodded, before getting up. "Back porch. I'll get the knife."

He nodded and stood, grabbing his plate and after a moment of indecision he set it on the counter by the sink. He offered a quiet 'thank you' to Mama before following his nose to the back porch. The air in the house was fresh and clean enough but it never smelled the same as air from outside.

Sam appeared a few minutes later with one of their switchblades, before looking over at him. "Where is it?" Just in case he needed back up so Alec didn't start bleeding all over the place.

He pulled his shirt off and turned his back to Sam telling himself he could damned well trust them with a knife at his back if he was going to stay here. It was just a matter of self control. He tipped his head forward showing off the barcode with out thinking about, and hunch his shoulders forward a little, pulling his back tight. "Next to my spine, below my shoulders. You know, the one spot that now one can effectively reach on themselves? You might be able to see it."

Sam nodded for a moment, placing a hand gently on the skin of his back before running his fingers up 494's spine, waiting until he could feel where something was off. "Hold still." He said softly, before cutting it out as quickly and painlessly as he could, which really wasn't all that painless, most likely, but it could have been worse. Once it was out, he picked up the shirt, and pressed it gently against the wound, trying to keep it from bleeding too fast. "Can you hold that for a sec?"

He had held dead still and made no sounds what's so ever. He moved a hand to hold the shirt when Sam asked and put real effort into not being sick. A knife wound in a fight was easy. Holding still was up there in the list of hardest things ever, and he wasn't even out of psy-ops for forty-eight hours yet. He tried not to shake.

"Yo!" Sam said, before picking up one of the street brooms on the porch and slamming the end of the broomstick into doors to the storm cellar. "Rise and shine."

After a few minutes, one of the doors to the basement flew open, and Luke poked his head out to look at Sam. "Dude, it's not even noon yet. What the hell?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I got a guy who needs to be stitched up, and a toy for your brother to play with."

"Toy?" Nate's blond head followed as he looked up at Sam. "What kinda toy?"

Luke just came around and looked over at 494, giving him a somewhat friendly smile. "Hey -- I'm the medic. Lemme have a look?"

He was suspicious, and twitchy like a cornered feline. But he couldn't just keep bleeding either. He was a medic to and knew that the wound wouldn't close on it's own. Not given the location so he nodded, and let the shirt fall a little.

Luke gently took the shirt from him, before looking the cut over carefully. "Not too bad. Just give me a sec." He moved one hand to brace the patient's back gently, before holding up his free hand over the wound and concentrating. In about a minute, the cut closed and healed over, almost as though it was never even there, and Luke let him go. "Done."
"What?" That was one of the weirdest feelings he'd ever had. Like he'd been sleeping in the sun for hours. Except it had all been crammed into sixty seconds.

Luke just smirked back at him before wiggling his fingers slightly. "I've got the magic touch. I'm Luke, by the way. That's my brother, Nate."

"Military grade. Nice. I haven't gotten one of these to play with in a while," Nate spoke up from where he was looking over the transmitter. He then looked over at Sam. "You do know that this is transmitting, right?"

"Yeah. Was hoping you might be able to do something about that," Sam replied.

"Sure," Nate replied, before glancing at his brother. "Bring me some pancakes, will you? I'm gonna be at this for a couple hours." He then looked over at 494. "How do you feel about Cancun?"

It took him a minute to find his voice. "Cancun is fine as long as it's soon. You don't want to tangle with the people on the other end."

"Fair enough," Nate nodded, before hopping over the railing of the porch and heading back downstairs. Luke turned on his heel and started heading back into the house.

"So you are -- ?"

"Confused?"

"I was going for your name, but state of being works too," Luke grinned. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Is there a quick version?" He was very skilled at avoiding the name question.

"Yes," Luke said with a nod. "Me and my brother -- not quite human. I do the magically healing thing, he could make you feel like you've been hit by a bus without actually hitting you with a bus. We -- share a common energy to keep us in check."

"Magic." But he could tell his back was healed. So.. .it was a little hard to argue. The not quite human part didn't bother him to much. "You don't smell human." he thought maybe he was in some sort of shock where everything sounded normal.

Luke took that for a minute, before shrugging. "Okay. And yeah -- magic. Our mom was a big time witch. We were conjured more than conceived."

"So. . .magical test tube babies?"

"Yup," Luke said with a nod. "She magically impregnated herself, popped us out nine months later, and the rest is history."

". . . .odd." Yeah. That's all he's got.

"Odd is a constant in our lives, this is true," Luke nodded. "It's fun though. Benefit of being not biological is that we get to stick with eighteen year-old slacker mindset for the rest of eternity."

494 blinked. He'd never slacked a day in his life. And he was honestly feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Luke just shook his head. "Dude, you're wound way too tight. You need to get laid."

"I. . . think I'm just gonna let that go."

"You do that. And you still haven't told me what your name is," Luke replied, raising an eyebrow at that.

"Interesting fact, isn't it." He grinned. Some instinct told him that someone was going to flip. He just didn't know who yet.

"Smartass, I like that," Luke smirked. "You gonna actually say it, or are you going to make us pull it out of you?"

He shrugged, casual as could be. "Can't have what ain't there, dudes."

He frowned at that. "You don't have a name?" That just seemed unnecessarily cruel for some reason. He wasn't even flesh and blood and he had a name.

"Nope." He sat on the railing to the porch enjoying the sun on his back.

Luke paused, before flopping down in one of the lounge chairs and starting to feel around under the chair. "We should totally fix that."

"Totally fix what?" Anna frowned, walking onto the porch with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"He doesn't have a name," Luke replied, before pulling out one of the books. "Found it!"

Anna glanced back at him, before raising an eyebrow. "Why do you have a baby name book?"

"We were naming the laptop."

"Of course."

494 was giving them all a wary look. "I don't need. . .I'll have you know I've got a perfectly good designation number." Somehow this choice thing felt like it was getting out of hand.

"A number? Dude -- they give people numbers to make them seem less than them. You're better than a number. If you're sticking around here, you get to have a name." Anna raised an eyebrow slightly, before sitting down on the arm of the lounge chair, looking over Luke's shoulder. "What have you got?"

"Should we start with the A's and work our way through?"

494 looked at them like they were nuts. "How do you know? For all you know I could be '1'."

"The Nazis gave the Jews numbers and took away all semblances of their humanity. Guards in prison only refer to the prisoners by their numbers in order to establish a situation of dominance. Even if your number is one, it's still totally meant to make you fear psychologically inferior. Psychology 101." Luke looked down at the book again, before looking up at him again. "You don't look like an Abraham."

He shook his head. "I know terror tactics. They were stripped of their identities. That's different." he paused at Abraham. "Lincoln. Was shot. And while I can commiserate with that? He died."

Anna made a face slightly. "And you've never had an identity. How is that any different? As oppose taking away what made them autonomous, you were never allowed to be autonomous."

"Yeah, that does sum it up." He shrugged, honestly not getting what the big deal was.

Anna sighed slightly, knowing that she wasn't going to get far until he'd been out there on his own for a while. She paused for a moment, before going back to Luke. "Anything?"

"Oh -- what about Alex? Alexander? Alexander the Great -- true, he is dead as well, but he did a lot of crazy shit."

Anna pushed the book, down starting to look it over. "Not Alex. But what about Alec?"

His head tilted curiosity over coming the cold feeling that said he shouldn't let them do this. "Why that?"

"Well, it comes from Alexander which is a pretty solid name, but it's not as common as Alex," Anna said with a nod. "Alexander actually means 'warrior' or 'man's defender.'" She paused for a minute, before shrugging her shoulders. "I think it suits you."

He nods. "That's what I'm supposed to be." There was no ego in it. He was just stating what he was built for.

"Good," Anna said with a small grin. "Alec it is."

Maybe if he thought of it as more like a title than a name he could learn to wear it. "If you say so."

She smirked slightly. "You'll get used to it."
He shrugged. "Why am I the only person who thinks any of this is weird?"

"Because you weren't just thrust into normal society -- you got shoved into an asylum for hunters? And that's a brand of weird all on its own."

"Great. I go for being accused of being crazy to rooming with a bunch."

"We're not that crazy," Anna said with a shrug. "We just -- see a lot of things that people don't normally see, leading most people to think we're crazy."

"Yeah. Well, I'm sure I'm on the list of weird shit. Government conspiracies and all."

"Government conspiracies are at least tangible," Anna said with a shrug. "Most of the things we see you can't even hold in your hand."

"Breakfast on the porch," Dean said with a sigh as he looked over the group. "This is new."

Alec blinked at him. "And the Old Man finally decides to join us." He smirked.

Dean leveled him with a look, before turning back to Anna. "Gina is taking Jen to the garage to pick up her tin can, then she's driving me back up to Wyoming to get my baby." He shifted slightly so that he was reaching for his wallet. "Since it seems like he's sticking around, I figured that once Jen gets back you can take him out and get him whatever he needs -- clothes, soap -- the essentials. I'm giving you the card, because I don't need the blond one getting me busted just to spite me."

"Okay," Anna said with a nod, taking the credit card that was handed to her. "Should be fun."

"He gets that shifty look. "Why do I feel as though I'm in danger?"

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Danger from who?"

"You're being armed and warnings are being given."

"You're not in danger," Anna said with a sigh. "And Jen and Dean just don't get along, so she wouldn't take it out on you."

"She enjoys pissing me off or getting me arrested. It's fun," Dean rolled his eyes, before looking over at him. "Do you want something to change into until you get stuff of your own?"

"Yeah." He held up his bloodstained shirt. "Kinda ruined this. And Sam said I could grab a shower?"

"Yup. Follow me," Dean nodded back towards the house, heading for the stairs to his room.

He hops down from the railing and follows.

Dean pulled his bag up from the floor and started rifling through it, pulling out some clean clothes for him to wear. "So is everyone smothering you yet, or are they being pretty cool about everything?"

"I uh. . .don't think I would know the difference. I did get a lecture on the dehumanizing effects of numbers though."

"Anna?" he replied, looking up with a bit of a smirk.

"Yeah. She always that. . . vehement?"

Dean nodded. "She's -- opinionated. But she means well, usually." Dean paused for a minute, before shrugging. "She's been through a lot. Being on your own all the time isn't exactly easy on a kid."

"I wouldn't know." He shrugged. "Lets face it, I don't really know jack about anything unless you want something field stripped or dead or some thing."

Dean considered that for a moment, before handing over the folded clothes. "Let her know if you feel she's coming on too strong. She doesn't mean to offend, but she does sometimes. But she knows people. If you're looking to make nice with someone to get information? She's your girl."

He takes the clothes. "She was fine. It's just this is all weird as hell. And I don't think I mean it in the way everyone thinks I do."

Dean nodded, before sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just take it slow. Don't be afraid to ask questions. I'm sure that ninety percent of the household wouldn't mind answering. We're here to help."

"See, that? That was weird."

"That you can ask questions?"

He nods and looks at anywhere be at Dean.

"Well -- " Dean chewed on that for a moment, before responding. " -- What would be not weird?"

He tries to figure out a way to describe that this is all entirely foreign to him. "You know anything about boot camp?"

He exhaled a bit, sitting down on the edge of a bed. "Kind of? I mean, I was raised on the road, growing up, but my dad trained me and my brother like Marines -- combat, weapons training, whole bit."

"Okay, so enough. I went through boot camp once. I didn't get it. It wasn't hard and the drill sergeant really wasn't that bad. I don't think I can get normal for me out here."

"Okay," he said with a nod, digesting that for a minute. "Well, first of all, I think we should definitely take you hunting. Second of all -- I think you'll have to adjust to the weird, which is going to take some time, I know. But I think the easiest way you can do that is to just ask questions when you want to, and figure out what you like and what you don't. The whole deciding for yourself thing isn't so bad once you get used to it."

"Will hunting be. . fewer people?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Probably just you, me and Sam depending on the job. And whatever witnesses we have to talk to."

"That's better I think. Fewer people and something to do." Goal oriented much?

"Good."

"Dean, let's get a move on -- I don't want to be gone all night!"

Dean sighed heavily, before pointing to the door. "Bathroom's the second door on the right. Towels are in the tall cabinet."

"Apparently females are demanding no matter were you are." He made a face, and then headed for the door then paused "How long are showers allowed to be?" Oh, look at him go with those questions.

Dean smirked as he pulled on his jacket. "Long as you want -- just don't use up the hot water or Jen'll never stop bitching."

"Bite me, Winchester. Let's go."

"I'm coming, Christ."

Alec made another face. Oh she was going to be a blast to be with later. "Good luck, dude."

"Thanks," Dean said, matching his face to head down the stairs and out to the car.

Alec headed for the shower. The tub stopped him for a minute but he only had to stand in it. That he could do. There was also a brief moment where he hadn't bothered to shut the door, because showers at Manticore made locker room showers look private, but then some of his training for undercover work swam up. Re-indoctrination had made much of the Berrisford mission a painful haze. Re-indoctrination always did that, but eventually all of the memories would surface and become clear again. They almost always did.

Civilian America liked privacy. And that meant closed doors. So he closed it. It felt odd, but he left it that way set the clothes down on the closed toilet seat, got out a towel and added it to the stack. His old clothes, blood and all, were neatly folded.

Then he took the longest, hottest shower of his entire life. It was still only fifteen or twenty minutes. But still. Awesome.

By the time he got downstairs, the majority of the household residents who were home, were in the living room. The twins were sprawled on their stomachs in front of the TV playing video games, Anna and Blake were playing with his toys on the couch, and Noah was in one of the armchairs with a book, only glancing up on occasion to make sure his son was still alright. Mama was in the kitchen, cooking something either for later or for now, depending on who was interested in eating.

He paused on the stairs, high enough up to satisfy both the feline instinct and the tactical training and looked over the living room and all the people in it. One of them he'd never even seen before. He came the rest of the way down and made for the kitchen. It was the other room he was familiar with and he hoped there were fewer people.

Which there was. Mama glanced over her shoulder when she heard him coming in, and she gave him a small smile. "Hey, honey. Feelin' better?"

"Maybe? Yes?" Dean's clothes were a little to big for him. The height difference didn't matter much, but Dean had more muscle. The clothes also smelled like Dean, laundry soap which wasn't the kind he was used to, gun powder and salt. It was odd. He grabbed another piece of fruit, because he had in no way eaten enough to satisfy the X5 metabolism, but the fruit was fair game. Or so he had been told.

"Well, maybe is better than no," Mama said with a nod. "Heard you were playing the name game."

"There's a name game?" This time he went for a banana.

"No, not exactly. It's just the name of a song, from the fifties. Seemed like it fit."

"They all seemed to think I needed one."

"You don't want one?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.

He thought about it. She was good at the question thing. "I don't like that it means I was good enough the way I was." Not that he was good enough but that was besides the point.

Mama tilted her head to the side slightly as she processed that. "I don't think that's what they were trying to say. I think it was the other way around -- that you were too good for just a number."

"It's not just a number. It's my number." It was his identity.

"I see," Mama said with a nod. She placed a lid on the pot she was stirring to let it simmer, before moving to sit down across from him. "I don't think -- they wanted to take that away from you. But -- walking around calling someone a number is a little strange. You can be both Alec and whatever your number was, and it won't make you any different."

That helped a little. He didn't want to not be who he was anymore. That would have been trading one kind of misery for another. So he nodded.

"If it helps? Think of it like a nickname."

That? That he could do. "Yeah. That I can handle." He folded up the banana peel carefully, and isn't quite sure what to do with himself.

She nodded a bit, before placing a hand close to him on the table. Not touching him, but close enough that she could be if he'd let her. "You'll find your way. Just gonna take a little time, that's all."

"That's what Dean said." He tapped his fingers against the table. "Have anything for me to do?" Task oriented, that was 494.

Mama glanced around the kitchen for a minute, before pointing to the sink. "Know how to do dishes?"

"Nope, but I'm a quick learner." He stood and made his way over to the sink. Dirty dishes, something labled dish soap, things meant for scrubbing. It wasn't rocket science. He set to work.

Mama got up after a while and went back to what she was cooking. A few minutes later, Blake wandered his way in, and pushed himself up on his toes next to Alec. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Washing dishes. What are you doing?" He wasn't sure if he was humoring the kid or was actually curious. Out of everyone here, Blake might be the one that confused him the least.

"Daddy said I could have banana," Blake replied, before making his way back over to the table, and sliding himself up onto the seat. "And me and Anna are playin' X-Men."

"X-Men?" He rinsed a plate.

"They're superheros. They gots special powers. I was Wolverine. He's all growly and he's got claws that come out and stuff."

He snorts. "Sounds like my sister. Aside from the claws." Suddenly he misses her fiercely.

"You have a sister?" Blake asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he peeled open his banana.

He nodded. "She cranky and doesn't like to be told what to do."

"Sometimes I wish I had a sister. When we spend lotsa time in the car it's kinda boring."

"It's nice not being alone. But it can be scary to. If they go away and you aren't sure if their okay."

"Like when my parents go on hunting trips, and they leave me with Mama or Grandma Angeline?"

Alec had no idea what having a parent was like, but he could assume there was affection of live there from the way Blake was acting. And he remembered in a hazy way Rachel's father. "Exactly like that."

"Yeah. That's kinda scary. But Grandma Angeline's nice. She gets Tina to play the piano and she sings and stuff."

The mention of the piano made something start to struggled to the surface. He knew by now though that if she chased it he'd just run into barriers that had been set up by someone else in his mind. "It's good that she's nice to you." Because he wasn't quite sure what to say to that. But it felt like he should say something.

"Do you have a grandma?"

"Nope. Just a brother and sister. And other siblings, but they aren't as close."

"You miss your brother and sister?"

He nodded without hesitation. "I miss them a lot."

"I'm sorry," he said softly as he finished his banana. "Maybe Jen and Dean and Sam can bring them here, and they can have cake too."

"Maybe, but I don't think they'd like that much."

Blake's head tilted again. "You don't think they'd like cake?"

That got a small laugh. "I think they'd like the cake just fine. I just don't think they'd like it is they were brought here."

"Why not?" As far as Blake was concerned, this was his second home.

He shrugged. "It's not where they belong."

"Oh." Blake really didn't get it, but he didn't know how to make it make more sense. "Maybe they can just come visit then."
"Maybe. That would be nice." And it would be. But he didn't hold out much hope. He didn't really think he'd ever see them again.

He took the maybe, and nodded, before getting up to throw out his banana peel. "Maybe when your done washing the dishes, you can come out and play with me and Anna?"

He blinked at that. He had no idea how to answer that question. He didn't want to tell the kid no, but at the same time he could barely hack it already. He didn't know how to 'play'. He looked at Mama for some sort of direction of cue.

Mama glanced over at them, before looking down at the smaller child. "Blake, honey, you might have to teach Alec a game. He doesn't know very many."

"Whadaya mean?"

"He might not know the same games you know. Maybe you can find a board game from upstairs to play with?"

Blake considered that for a moment before his face lit up. "I know! I know!" With that, he took off for the stairs, and Mama turned back to him with a small smile.

"Board game is easy. All you have to do is move the pieces around the board. He's probably gonna come up with something like Candyland or Chutes and Ladders. Something simple."

"As longs as it's got directions." He bit his lip, "Thanks."

"No problem," she said with a nod. "It's what I'm here for."

"To rescue the socially incompetent from four year-olds?" He raised an eyebrow.

She chuckled. "To give people little nudges in the right direction. And to be honest -- he really likes you, socially incompetent or not. Usually takes him a while to get used to strangers like that. That's a good thing."

"He said I reminded him of someone named Missouri. Her cat I reminded him of her cat."

"Missouri is a psychic out in Lawrence, and an old friend of his grandmother's. And well -- he's always liked animals."

"Then I have an unfair advantage over other new people."

"Are you complaining?" Mama asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No. Just saying."

Mama gave him a small smile as Blake ran back into the room, the Candyland box in his hands. "Are you done yet?"

He was on the last dish. "Almost." He gave the kid a smile.

"'kay. I'll go and set it up." With that he took back off towards the living room.

He finished the last dish and then dried hid hands. "Wish me luck." He shot Mama a smile and then followed Blake into the other room.