Pale Green

Andrea dozes across Jason and Derek, Jason's arm around her waist, Derek vaguely holding onto her leg.

The alarm—

A collective groan.

—clock rings.

"Time for work," Andrea sighs, rolling off them.

Jason nudges Derek. "Duty calls."

Derek whines.

Andrea finds her feet, tugs on a nightgown (the pale green one with bunnies).

Derek worms out of bed.

Andrea stumbles into the wall, backs up, makes it through the door.

Derek sleepwalks to the washroom, bangs around for a minute.

Jason puts his hands behind his head, content to bask in the greatness that is having nothing to do and nowhere to go and feels rather old and quite useless.

A voice that sounds like Lachlan's laughs and tells him to stop moping and start moving.

The shower kicks to life; either Derek batted around until something worked or he woke up enough to figure it out.

Jason smiles, hauls himself out of bed, pulls on his sleep shirt and a pair of Derek's PJ pants, grabs his cane, and heads off down the hall after Andrea—!

Jason goes back, snags Andrea's glasses from the bedside table, and heads out again.

——Why do I keep you around, exactly?

Lachlan laughs.

Jason catches up to her in the kitchen, where she's staring rather blankly at the toaster. He steps behind her, settles her glasses on her nose, tucks the temples behind her ears, brushes his fingers across her nape.

Andrea shivers, leans against him.

Jason wraps his arms around her waist, hums in her ear, "It works better when you add bread, Sunshine."

Andrea huffs, pokes Jason in the nose.

"Get yourself some cereal and I'll handle the machinery." Jason gives her a gentle shove toward the cupboards.

"I c'n handle it."

"Let me be useful."

"Yer /**very** useful." Kisses the corner of his mouth. "More'n useful ev'n."

"Go," smiles Jason.

Andrea hums, gathers the bits of her breakfast and assembles them with minimum spillage, and pads to the table.

Jason works the toaster, cleans up the mess.

Andrea munches.

Derek scuffs in as she finishes, more or less properly dressed, but still toweling his hair. "Your turn," he yawns.

"You remember to take everything?" she prompts.

Derek stops mid-stride, spins, walks right back out.

Andrea gives a dopey smile, follows, tugging her nightgown off over her head.

Jason smothers a chuckle as she stumbles into the wall, backs up, and makes it through the door.

Derek returns a minute later, /*sans* towel with the collar on his pale green shirt marginally straighter, kisses Jason's cheek as he collects a plate of toast and jam from him on his way to the table.

Jason empties the dishwasher.

Andrea bounds in as Derek finishes, dressed neatly in her bean-wrangling gear, hair in a fishtail braid.

"Want to walk or would you like a lift?" asks Derek, bustling their dishes to sink.

Andrea checks the clock, squeaks, "I'm late! Ride, please!"

Derek pushes past Jason—

Jason staggers into the counter.

—whips back around, face heating, meeps, "Sorry!"

"I'm okay." Jason waves him on.

Derek goes.

Jason makes it to the foyer as Andrea and Derek shrug into their coats and pick up their bags.

"'Bye, Jason!" says Andrea.

"See you tonight," says Derek.

Then Andrea kisses one cheek; Derek, the other.

And they're gone.

The house is suddenly very quiet and feels very, very empty.

Jason sighs.

Lachlan chides, tells him to eat something before his blood sugar crashes.

Jason shakes his head clear, shuffles back to the kitchen.

A pair of copper eyes watch him from the center of the table.

"Morning, Cat."

"/*Maau*," greets Snicket.

Jason opens the fridge. "Where's your person?"

Snicket attends the ceiling.

A muffled /*bang* and curse from the ductwork.

Jason snorks and digs about for the muffins Charlie sent home with Andrea. He pops three in the microwave, retrieves the butter dish, pokes a glob into two of them, shuffles over to the table, and takes his favorite seat.

[Right on cue], an ache sets into his thigh.

Snicket tilts his head.

"Leg cramp," says Jason, rubbing the muscle.

Snicket flows from the tabletop into his lap, sets to purring.

"That's helping," Jason smiles, strokes Snicket's back. "Have any friends I can hire as my personal masseuse?"

Snicket huffs.

"One of a kind, ay?"

Snicket's purr turns smug.

Logan strolls into the room, backpack in hand, ruffling dust from his hair, announces, "You need to clean better."

"I'll tell the servants," Jason grins, offers the muffin. "Find any today?"

Logan accepts. "Three audio transmitters. And a camera in the bedroom."

"Hope they enjoy the show," mutters Jason.

Logan glowers. "I did /**not** hear that."

Jason laughs. "They were in the vents again?"

Logan chomps into his muffin, bobs his head.

"I have no idea how you fit in there to get them out."

Logan swallows. "Anything my shoulders fit through, I can get into." Rolls his right shoulder.

Jason cringes as cartilage crunches.

"Thinking of training up a bean to do it for me, though."

"Why not the cat?"

"He sucks at following directions."

"/*Mrau*," agrees Snicket, hopping from Jason's lap to the table to Logan and draping himself over his shoulder.

Logan responds with ear scritches and polishes off the muffin.

Jason pokes his. "So, this is what you do now? Remove surveillance gear from your brothers' houses?"

"Among other things."

"You, uh, ever feel useless without a real job?"

Logan snorts. "I've always /**been** useless far as most people are concerned. Rangering's the closest I've come to contributing to society."

Jason raises an eyebrow.

"Mouse hasn't told you 'bout my glorious past?"

Jason shakes his head.

Logan rolls his eyes, mutters, "Help save the world and he's /**still** embarrassed." Crosses his arms. "I was—-might still be—-a thief, lock-pick, street fighter, liar, freeloader, convict, and diagnosed sociopath."

"And[, yet,] you're still pulling bugs out of our ducts."

"Because I want to fuck with the assholes who locked me up for three years. Helping family comes free of charge."

"Except the food that goes missing."

Logan concedes, "Except the food. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a very stuffy attic." Sweeps a bow—

Snicket scrabbles to hold his perch.

—and heads for the front door.

"Hey, Logan?"

Logan turns back.

"Any advice on what I should do?"

"Find a sunny spot, sit down, and re-read a good book. 's what I'm doing this afternoon." Logan waves and then he's gone.

The voice that sounds like Lachlan's says Logan's onto something.

Jason smiles and walks to the bookshelf.