Layton Drownout 2020

Meeting the (Potential) In-Laws

Summary: Des meets the man his brother is so enamoured with, but he isn't entirely sure if he likes this upstart American...

Lips pursed in thought, Des looked the man up and down.

"So," he said steadily. "You're the man my brother's spoken of so highly, are you?"

The American shrugged his shoulders.

"Guess I am," he replied.

Des wasn't sure what he had expected of the American lawyer Hershel had told him about. He'd said the man was relatively tall, handsome, and very respectable, and the mention of his profession had led Des to envision someone...

...not like this.

"I have to say," he said, "I rather expected you to be..."

What was a way to phrase it that wouldn't cause offense?

"...tidier."

The American – Phoenix, he recalled – blinked at him in confusion.

"I'm... sorry?" he responded.

What a mess his brother had dragged into the house, Des thought. Average height, he had realised, most likely only tall to a person of a stature as diminutive as Hershel's. Early thirties. Far younger than he had expected (Hershel, you sneaky little cradle-snatcher). Dressed in sweatpants and the most hideous grey thing Des had ever seen draped around a human body, not complimented in the slightest by the outrageous cap of brilliant cyan perched atop his head.

It was all Des could do not to grab a knife from the kitchen and threaten him out the door with it.

"Maybe you want to tell me what you were expecting?" the shabby man demanded.

"Well, Hershel told me that you're a lawyer," Des explained.

"Oh." Phoenix sighed and pressed a hand against his head. "Yeah, I'm kind of, uh..."

Des rolled his eyes.

"Heaven's sake," he groaned. "Don't tell me you're unemployed!"

"I'm not, I'm not!" Phoenix insisted. "I'm just, um..." He rubbed the back of his head. "Just not a lawyer right now, is all. It's not something I really want to get into, but..."

Des crossed his arms, still eyeing the man with all the scepticism he could muster.

"And what, may I ask," he said, trying oh so hard not to scream, "is a man of your..."

Again, he wracked his brain for the politest wording.

"...a man of your ilk," he settled on, "doing taking an interest in my little brother? Would you care to explain your intentions towards him?"

"Oh my god," Phoenix sighed, glancing around the foyer as if searching for an escape. "Is this actually happening? Are you really going to do the whole overprotective elder relative thing?"

Des' frown deepened.

Could there perhaps be some brains underneath that disgusting hat?

"Exactly how much do you know about my brother, Mr Wright?" Des inquired.

Phoenix frowned down at him, and Des tried to ignore the fact that this American was a good couple of inches taller than him.

"I know that he's a professor of archaeology at Gressenheller University," he stated, "who often gets side-tracked by investigations and solving mysteries. He loves puzzles and tea and he's a damn good dad, and he's easily one of the smartest and kindest people I've ever met."