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They had a movie night. To be honest with herself, Mordred had very little idea what it would entail other than pizza, soda, and being able to annoy two grown men about a film she'd never seen before. Mostly because the movies were expensive and while sure, she could pickpocket more people, she promised not to do it as much.

The movie was Thor: Ragnarock n roll the saga of Chris Hemsworth. Or just Thor: Rangarok if you wanted to be literal. It was new, supposed to be good and funny, and honestly it was that or Jusice League and she really only cared about Wonder Woman in that film. At least in Thor she'd get to see Chris's chest. She may be just 15 but hey, she could admire.

Kavinsky had invited over Banks who she was like, 86% sure liked K the way that was more than just guys being dudes. Maybe he didn't see it that way, but, she was pretty certain you didn't just help a friend adopt a teenager out of basic friendship. Nah, she had suspicions. And she'd find them out. Hopefully tonight. That or she'd just gorge herself on pizza and go into a mozzarella induced coma. Either way, she'd win.
"Peitro!" She yelled. "Did we make sure to order the abomination pie?"

His ears were burning, which meant either someone was talking about him... or the brisk winter breeze was responsible for the red tinge on the tips of both of his ears. As he made his way from the car up to the apartment complex steps, he silently decided he finally understood why Kavinsky wore that stupid beanie all the time - because surely it wasn't chosen for its fashion.

Balanced in his hands sat two Tupperware containers, their red lids making his green sweater give off the appearance that he was three months overdue for a Christmas get-together. The larger of the two contained a homemade salad, mostly because the lawyer was fairly confident that if dinner was left up to a teenage hellion and a Russian a*****e, there wouldn't be nearly as many vegetables as there should be. To compensate for his attempt at giving them both nutritional value to their dinners, he'd also taken the time to make some good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies.

... of which he'd reveal after they'd eaten an adequate amount of leafage.


Shuffling the two containers into one arm took a bit more balance than he was used to but the older man managed long enough to rap on the front door of the worn-out looking apartment door. The complex looked about as he expected it would for a man who worked himself to the bone but Rob wasn't there to judge.

No - he was there to spend time with two people who actually wanted him over, a startling change of pace from his normal dinner companion of himself and an overly large feline.

As he heard muffled shuffling from behind the door, the weary looking lawyer couldn't help but smile.

Teeth grit against each other when Kavinsky purposely rolled his eyes at his young charge, dialing the number to the pizza joint before cradling it between his ear and the crook of his shoulder. Beneath his breath was a string of Russian curses, things he'd yet to teach Mory.

Ring, ring, riiiing.

The pizza place was taking a long time to answer and he shifted so that the counter pressed into his back so he could fold his arms over his chest.

Mory's words carried across the small two bedroom apartment and he nearly dropped the phone when someone picked up on the other line. "Мори! Он не мой. Ты, черт побери. Мы говорим об этом позже," he snarled immediately, fumbling to keep the phone in place.

Some of it she would understand, others she might not. Either way, his tone implied she was in for a talking to.

His back was turned so that neither guest could see the dark flush of his cheeks and he busied himself with ordering pizza.

Mordred, to her credit, didn't flinch when Kavinsky yelled at her from the other room. She would dare to say she was used to it, and he hadn't use the 'you really ******** up' tone, just the 'damn it Mory stop embarrassing me' tone which was what usually she heard when talks of Banks came up. She might get a scolding later but probably not a grounding.
Maybe.
Hopefully not. She was a senshi like him and would totally bail if he tried to lock her in her room. Wouldn't be her first escape out the window rodeo.

But- "oh my god." She groans at the pun shaking her head. "You're not even close to my dad- just god no dad jokes. GOD."
Eyeballing the containers, she was secretly glad that they would be having salad. It was hard to explain why she liked ranch on pizza and was going to assume Kavinsky would admonish her dietary choices otherwise. Bless you Banks, for unwittingly proving the perfect cover for her poor taste.

"Pietro only teaches me how to say ******** and b***h and s**t in Russian. The rest I get from the internet." She reached for the container of cookies.
"I mean, it's not like I'm wrong." She looked at Banks with a grin, eyebrows wiggling.

"You're sweet on him." Her hands on the prize she was going to abscond with the cookies if she could.

"Hey, it wasn't that bad of a joke..."

Okay, so maybe it had been that bad of a joke but Robert Banks was sticking by his puns, terrible or not. In his own defense, his father had been far from comical about anything when the brunette had been growing up in his household, so all the jokes that came from Rob's mouth had been derived from Rob's own cleverness. And it was cleverness, as far as he was concerned.

Hmph.

The Russian hadn't seemed to mind her comments, appearing from his phone call (which was probably made to some greasy food joint or another, knowing the company the lawyer was keeping) to greet the others. When Mory explained her language lessons, Rob's eyes glanced towards her charge.

"Of course he only teaches curses. Why on Earth would he want to teach you anything else?"

The grin was wry and the humor was dry but it was apparent that Rob was settling in and enjoying himself. Hands were about to shoo away the teenager from the obvious attempts Mory was making towards the dessert he had been terrible about hiding but her comment and eyebrow waggling had him freezing in place.

Time seemed to stand still as he processed what she said, the pink coloring still lingering on his cheeks now creeping up the back of his neck. Finally, he attempted a forced chuckle.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." The laughter he responded with was strained and awkward as he attempted to remain casual, though signs of fidgeting were now present as he did everything in his power to focus his eyes on Mordred and not the other man standing nearby. "I get it - sweet, sugar? Now who's making all the puns?"

Without wasting a moment, he abandoned his attempt at defending the Tupperware of cookies, sacrificing them to the hands of the hungry teenager. Instead, he made a beeline past the breakfast bar and towards the fridge to ensure his embarrassed expression was turned away from both of them.

"So what does the Kavinsky household have to drink around here, I wonder?"

Kavinsky stood watching, arms crossed over his chest and his natural resting b***h face that was accompanied by slightly furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Lips that twitched upward once...twice, then settled back into a thin line, when Mory began spouting nonsense.

"Mory's right Banks, lies aren't permitted in the Kavinsky-Ellis household." He was a man who valued honesty and he was going to encourage it, especially in the face of his young charge. "Figure I teach the kid the proper pronuncation because she'll just go figure it out on her own if I don't and I won't have a kid with a мусор accent."

He might have been born state side but he was proud, mostly, of his parent's background and if Mory wanted to learn, he was going to share it with her. She was family now, after all.

"No previews, we can start and you can eat during the movie as long as you use a plate and don't get greasy fingers on anything." Silver eyes cut over to Banks. "Don't hog the couch either, we have guests."

Seeing a metallic can in the fridge made him seize up for a moment, his heart skipping a beat until his brain registered the contents of the silver looking cylinder. He shook his head at himself, reaching in and laying claim to the can of generic-brand soda before closing the fridge door behind him.

"Alright, alright," Eyes darted between both Russian and Russian-in-training as the soda can's tab was pulled back. "Being sweet is okay, and no lying in the Kavinsky-Ellis household. Noted. Guess it's a good thing that I'm in the right occupation, eh?"

Father and pseudo-child discussed movie and dinner things, Rob slowly returning towards the living room area and stopping when his seat in question was defiantly claimed by the lanky legs of a smartass teenager.

"I see she's giving you a run for your money there, Kavinsky." With no other option, he made his way over to where the younger man was standing, idling with a soda in his hand. It was hard to suppress his grin... so he didn't. One elbow even dared to reach out and nudge the Russian. "Serves you right, y'know. Turnabout is fair play."

Glancing back over to the blonde girl, he playfully called out. "Hey, Mory - how do you say the a-word in Russian?"

One moment he was cheerfully standing there and the next he was having a Tupperware full of cookies shoved into his free hand. He fumbled with the container for a moment before he caught his balance, just in time to see the burly teenager dump the smaller one into one corner of the couch.

K took his own seat on the couch, taking up far more space than either Mory or Banks himself could take up. It left the lawyer with the other corner and the command to sit, as if he were a dog waiting on his master for permission.

There was a flicker of hesitation as he debated on what to do with the cookies. Bringing them back to the couch surely spelled trouble for the troublemaker who'd snatched them in the first place, so he promptly dropped them off on the small breakfast bar before making his way towards his host/esses and taking his seat alongside the demanding Russian.

And that's how he found himself on the small couch, leg pressed against leg as he did his best to scoot towards the arm, soda awkwardly clutched in his lap.

"So uh --- do guests pick the flick? Or has this already been decided by the lady of the house?"