Redamancy • Mark Sloan

2x06-Thanks For The Memories

Thanksgiving. A time for gratitude, family and disputes over who gets to baste the turkey.

At least that's what Charlotte believed them to be, she was British, and they didn't exactly have Thanksgiving over there. Izzie had summoned her to the frat house, since she was the only other person capable to utilising a kitchen to its fullest extent, and she was to be on turkey patrol.

Walking in, she found the house empty, and the former model complained immediately, "Meredith escaped to the hospital!"

"Wait, you let Mer go? Why does she get to go? She's American and has a family, I'm British and don't. If anyone should be allowed to miss thanksgiving in exchange for surgery, it should be me!"

Izzie narrowed her eyes menacingly at the girl, and she sighed, "Fine, please tell me you've got everything. I've never basted before, but I spent most of last night reading up on it, and watching Martha Stuart, so we should be fine."

The taller blonde looked around, following her friend to the kitchen, before asking, "Where's Georgie? I doubt he escaped for extra surgery time."

"He got kidnapped by his family. Apparently they hunt a turkey every year."

"Why? You can just buy them without the added benefit of being the cause its life ended." Mumbled the youngest, as Izz shrugged casually.

v^√√v^─√v^√v^─

They'd been ambling in the kitchen for around an hour, with the youngest having given up on the turkey, and chosen to, instead, bake some French pastries.

If it all went to hell in a hand basket, at least they'd have some profiteroles and croissants to keep them company, right?"

Scooping up some créme patissiére in a spoon, she held up to her friend with a raised eyebrow, "I need you to try it, because my tastebuds are too acclimated to it."

"Oh, this is delicious! How do you even know how to bake?"

Shrugging slightly, head tilted downwards, Charlie confessed, "I used to, with my mum. Every weekend we'd find something new to bake, and she was half-french, so my grandparents basically believed that baked goods had more rights than people."

The woman giggled happily, before growing quiet, throwing quick, side looks at her friend. Charlie sighed, "Spit it out, Izz. I can feel you staring at me, you know?"

"I just...Is this the first time you've baked since...you know?"

The youngest shook her head, smiling wistfully, "No. You cannot let this out, but Richard is an awful cook. So whenever I visit, I always bring a pastry of some kind. Last time, I think I brought a tarte aux fruits."

Biting her lip, she scooped some cream into a chou, before continuing, "Actually, one of the first thing Adele, his wife, did, after I'd healed from my injuries and was able to move again, was bake with me. Remind me that some traditions should live on."

The doorbell rang, and she placed everything down, looking at her friend, who had a soft smile on her face, "I'm glad. Because those profiteroles smell really good."

Giggling, she threw an egg shell at her, before heading towards the door, opening it to find herself faced with an annoyed looking Cristina.

"You're late. You're late and you've come sans liqueur, which makes me want to punch you."

"Yeah well..." mumbled her person, before looking sideways, prompting the blonde to peek her head out.

"Oh," she exclaimed, surprised, "Um, hello Dr Burke...." Growing quiet, she tilted her head and asked, "Can I drop the doctor and just call you Burke? Feels weird to do that when you're standing here, and I have flour on my face."

The man grinned charmingly, "People who are shocked when I show up uninvited to their homes call me Preston."

Waving him inside, she smirked, "Not my home, and don't lie. No one calls you Preston."

As he looked around the foyer, she grabbed her person by the arm, pulling her close so she could whisper, "Couldn't ditch the boyfriend for thanksgiving, huh?"

"Nope."

"You do know Izz' gonna slowly baste you instead of the turkey, right?"

"Yep."

The two women glanced at each other, before sighing in unison,

"Fuck."

v^√√v^─√v^√v^─

Hours later, once she's made a whole pumpkin and pecan pie from scratch, she and her person were leaning against the bar, watching as Izzie and Burke (she still refused to call him Preston) treated their Turkey as though it was a patient.

"When I was told thanksgiving is weird, I expected more fighting and throwing drinks in each others' faces, and less turning the kitchen into a turkey OR." She mumbled slowly.

"I need alcohol. Joe didn't bring alcohol. Why are we friends with a bartender who doesn't bring alcohol."

"That's a great question. Remind me to slowly disembowel Mer tomorrow for leaving us alone with the perky, happy ones?"

"Oh I won't remind you, I'll hold her down."

v^√√v^─√v^√v^─

They were finally seated at the diner table, making small talk, when Burke snapped his finger in her direction, "I can't believe I just realised this. Hawthorne, as in Elijah Emery Hawthorne, right?"

Charlie nodded slightly, placing her wine glass back down, "Yes, that would be my father."

"Yeah, I met him a couple of times. Great guy. Knew more about oncology than most surgeons I know,"

The girl in question swallowed heavily, giving the man a smile, "He did, yes. Used to tell me his dream was med-school, but he wasn't given the choice. Oncology was his passion though. I'm fairly certain most of the books in his office were about that."

He nodded, growing quiet, before she asked with genuine curiosity, "I have to know, how the hell did you know how to baste a turkey? Because, no offence, I didn't think you'd have had the time to learn, or do it really."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm comfortably around Cris' chair, "My mother owns a restaurant in Alabama."

"Ooh, Alabama, home of America's best foods." She giggled, nodding her head. "Richard brought my mum a cookbook about Southern comfort foods once, and she went crazy over it. Could never actually cook anything properly but damn did she try."

The entire table grew quiet, causing her to frown in confusion, before Cris said softly, "Sherlock, I think this is the first time you've shared a memory of your parents without needing to go boxing after."

Charlie smiled wistfully, before shrugging her shoulders, "They would both be enraged to find I don't mention them. Besides, thanksgiving is about the things we're grateful for, right?" As everyone around her nodded, she continued, "I may miss them, but maybe I should be more grateful for the good memories, regardless of this holiday's messed-up origins."