GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Twenty One: Eccedentesiast)

"Alright..." Micah gestured with his voice for her to go on, "Who?"

Helen opened her mouth to speak, but Alex interrupted her.

"Mr Barnaby, right?" Alex asked, name of her dad's boss at the publishing company rolling off her tongue with easy familiarity, "We always have the Barnaby's over on Christmas Eve."

"Right." Her mother had a slightly stilted tone. Alex would have almost called it nervous, "Well, this year we're doing things a bit differently."

"How?" Micah's eyes furrowed with suspicion.

"You're going to have to get dressed up for a start." Mike Fawley cut in, grinning at the identical expressions of distaste that passed over his children's faces. 

"Why?" Alex whined.

"We're still having Dad's boss over, right?" Micah inquired, directing his question towards his mother, who was about twenty percent more likely to answer without trying to poke fun at him.

Helen Fawley winced, "Technically, yes."

"What do you mean 'technically'?" Alex leaned forward, knee bouncing with that textbook jitter that meant not knowing what the hell was going on. 

Her mother frowned again, "Well-"

"I think it should be a surprise, don't you, Dear?" Mike asked his wife, grinning like a dentist had told him to. This sent alarm bells ringing immediately. As far as she was aware, Alex had never heard her parents refer to each other using pet names, and even if she had done, she doubted 'dear' would have even made the top ten. This was either a coded message, or her father had been overtaken by an alien parasite intent on destroying the world through widespread ignorance about dinner guests. 

Helen bit her lip, and then nodded, "Yes. Just be ready by five, okay kids?"

"Can we stop with the 'kids' thing?" Micah asked, rolling his eyes, "We're fifteen."

"In the eyes of the law, you're still a child, just a responsible one." His mother reminded him, "Let's keep it that way for as long as possible, okay team?"

"Okay, so I'm a child until I kill someone, then I'm an adult." Micah responded sullenly, already bored by the conversation, "Can we go now?"

"Yes, fine." His dad agreed, frowning into the probably cold contents of his mug, "Go back to your coin-counting or whatever it is."

"I'm studying the currency we found at the archeological dig in the Summer." Micah corrected, "It could blow the case wide-open on halting the planning permission to build a supermarket car park on the sight."

"Right." Mike blinked at his son, in a way that was a clear indication of his complete failure to comprehend any of what had been said to him, "Good. Good... Man, then."

Micah gave a last, defeated sigh and disappeared with a parting peace sign to his family.

Instantly, both of the elder Fawley's focused their eyes on Alex.

"I should... Go, too." Alex smiled hesitantly at her parents' unusually direct stares.

"Al..." Her mother started, before glancing down, something like shame draping itself over her face.

"We think you should cover your scars." Mike finished, reaching out to lay a reassuring hand on his wife's arm, "Just for tonight."

"I... I don't understand." Alex glanced from one to the other, bewildered, "You told me to be proud of them, to-"

"We know, Darling." Helen moved to sit next to her.

Mike had his extremely serious face one. It was unnerving, "But the people who are coming to dinner tonight..."