"Jason."

"What."

"Dinner's ready."

"Ok give me a minute."

"Now Jason."

"One second."

"Jason."

"Ok I'm coming!"

The 15 year old dirty blonde headed boy sighed in ignorance as he threw down his game controller onto his bed and slunk off the side, trudging down the stairs as he grumbled a little to himself. He turned the corner into the kitchen and took seat at the kitchen table.

"No grumbling soldier."

Those words came from the mouth of retired Marine, Colonel William Jane as he stood facing the stove. Though retired, his Marine roots still pushed through in the domestic life of fatherhood. Jason rolled his eyes at the remark and picked up his fork, playing with a little, poking at the mildly sharp edges.

"Could you kill a guy with this?" Jason queried aloud, holding the fork and stabbing it lightly into the air. "I mean, if you tried hard enough, could you?"

His father cleared his through a little and picked up the pan from the stove, smiling a little at his handiwork and emptied the contents onto a serving dish on the kitchen table.

"Probably." He said simply as he discarded the pan into the sink. He eyed Jason, quickly noticing that curious gleam reflected in his body language.

"Dad." Jason began.

"Don't even think about it." William replied, taking a serving spoon and scooping the contents of the dish onto his son's plate. He then served his own.

"Uh." Jason murmured as he stared at the array of food on his plate. "What, exactly?"

"All the primary food groups." William responded in an absent minded manner. "No need to go into details. It's good for you."

Jason sighed and relaxed his shoulders a little as he used his fork to stab what he assumed was a vegetable. Squinting his eyes a little in anticipation he took a bite, expecting some repellent form of taste to flurry his tastebuds. Instead he felt warmth and a surprisingly good taste, knocking him back in stupefaction.

"This actually tastes kind of good." Jason remarked aloud. He had a tendency to speak his mind without realizing it. This 'talent' of his was a gift and a curse. In this case, a gift.

"I knew you would." His father replied in confidence. The man may not be the best domesticated father but he knew how to cook. He did start out as a cook on his ship after all.

"We all have to start somewhere." William mused quietly to himself about his past.

"Huh?"

William raised his eyebrow to the question, making an o shape with his mouth when he realized he'd spoken aloud. Like father like son.

"Oh." He said, running a hand through his brown hair. It felt coarse and his hand juddered slightly as his fingers slipped off the ends of his hairs. "Nothing." He ended up saying. Jason didn't know about his days as a cook, Jane was afraid that by telling his boy of his less than admirable past the excitement and curiosity of being a Marine would be diminished from Jason's imagination. The colonel knew he'd have to tell him eventually, but for know he'd keep it under the carpet. Sliding out of his thoughts Jane tuned back to the scene at hand and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall.

"Jesus I didn't realize what time it was." he spoke aloud. "Jason, after you've eaten head off to bed, we have an early day tomorrow."

"Yeah." Jason groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Do I have to." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes." Will replied reflexively. "Not up for discussion."

"But school's so boring." Jason complained in reply as he raised a hand in the air in exasperation. "Why can't I come with you to work?"

"Because you'd be just as bored. Being a Marine isn't all fancy gadgets and exciting missions. Every job has its paperwork."

"Yeah except school doesn't even have the option of fancy gadgets and exciting missions. Paperwork is all school is."

"Paperwork that will get you into the Marines." Jane countered. "Without that paperwork you can't go anywhere." Jane smirked as Jason rolled his eyes and leant his palm into the cup of his chin, leaning forward onto the table.

"Well maybe I don't want to be a Marine." Jason mumbled under his breath.

There was a slight tension in the air. As cliche as it was, Jason's father did suffer from 'pushing your own career as your child's only option syndrome.'

"You know how much we've been working for this." Jane countered. "Two more years and you'll be ready for admission."

"Whatever." Jane replied. He scrunched his brow in frustration, recounting the many times on the outcome of this discussion. Every time it was 'don't waste your efforts, we've put so much work into this, you'll be great.'

"Jason?"

The boy hung his head up slightly as the crease from his brow began to recline. Not much could be said. He knew what would come next. Jane would say goodnight and the next morning he'd push forward as if the issue had been resolved. From his fathers eyes he probably thinks it has. Jason released a breath he realized he'd been holding in for a moment. Maybe it was time to be honest.

"Uh." Jason started, straightening in his seat a little. "I need to tell you something."

Jane straightened in response, clearing his throat a little and pulled out a chair. "What's up." He asked as he took a seat. Jason couldn't figure out if his dad had figured out what he was going to say. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say.

The sound of a phone rang out, waking Jason a little from his nervous stupefaction. His dad moved to get up but Jason moved quicker, taking this as an opportunity to move on from the current choice of subject in conversation. He leaned over and unhooked the phone from the wall and pressed it to his ear, clearing his throat a little to answer whoever called.

"Hello?"