Alright, second and final Chapter! I missed kick-off to write this, so I hope it was worth it! Enjoy everyone, and happy thanksgiving!

Disclaimer: I don't own static shock, but for the people that DO own it, hey, how come we never got a thanksgiving episode? That aint right!

"How are you gonna have Thanksgiving and no gravy!"

"Well here is a thought Virgil, if you don't like the way I make dinner, then you can make your own da-"

"That is enough you two!"

This was the scene at the Hawkins home about an hour ago. The whole house smelled delicious, a divine mixture of savory casseroles and vegetables, macaroni and cheese roasting in the oven, mashed potatoes steaming on the stove, apple and pumpkin pies set to cool in the open window sill, and of course, a large turkey set on the counter ready for baking.

The only thing missing was the gravy!

It was Robert's voice that broke up the fight.

Robert walked into the kitchen and gave his children icy glares. At the stove, Grandma Nora laughed audibly.

"Oh Robert, I remember you and your sister used to do the same thing." Grandma Nora turned to Virgil and Sharon and winked. "One year, Robert even threw mashed potatoes and Rochelle because she wanted the first slice of pie!" Virgil and Sharon laughed.

Grandma Nora smiled at her family. She was a small, stooped woman, with a kind face and wrinkled, warn hands. Her hair was salt and pepper, tied up into a loose bun. She wore a bright yellow apron that was perfectly clean, despite her having made just about everything in the kitchen. Sharon was only in charge of the green bean casserole, a dish that Virgil would never admit that he actually enjoyed.

"I…don't recall that particular incident" Robert said, but he chuckled warmly, giving himself away that he had remembered that particular incident. He would probably mention it later when he called Rochelle to say happy thanksgiving.

Virgil and Sharon looked at each other between their snickers and Virgil stuck his tongue out momentarily. Sharon, for her part, shook the mashed potato spoon at Virgil, dropping bits of potato on the floor. Then she was laughing even harder, and Virgil couldn't help but join in.

"Now that's better." Said Nora smiling and turning back to the stuffing. "Virgil baby, why don't you go to the store and get us some gravy, hmm? I musta forgot it when we went shoppin yesterday." She gave him a toothy smile, one that had some magical grandmother power to make the idea of scouring Dakota for some gravy mix on thanksgiving day sound like a good one.

So, adorned with some money from Robert and his bike, Virgil set out to find somewhere that was still open that sold gravy. How hard could that be? He would be home before the Detroit Lions could even kick off.

Okay, so, maybe, this wasn't the very best idea on the planet. Maybe.

Who was he kidding? Finding even one packet of gravy would be impossible. It had been about one hour and 6 stores since he had left the house, and he was empty handed. Actually a few sales associates had laughed at him when he asked where they hid their gravy. One woman actually just shook her head and walked away.

But he refused to return home empty handed.

He also refused to have to deal with Sharon's smug smile when he came home with no gravy and an hour late.

So he had decided that he would take a shortcut through the docks. It was a strange shortcut, seeing as he had quite a...colorful history with this part of town, but it also saved him a lot of time. There were no cars or pedestrians to avoid in the empty pier, and Virgil liked the smell of the salt from lake Onalaska. Plus, this was the easiest way to the only Wal-Mart in Dakota. They had to have some gravy.

Maybe.

Virgil also liked taking this back way because he had a chance to use his powers to manipulate the metal in his bike to make it ride unnaturally fast with little to no pedaling. He could hear his electrical field crackle against his bike spokes as the wind whipped his dreads back. It was almost like flying.

He slowed down in order to turn a corner and saw someone sitting alone on the docks. They were wearing an overly large green and orange hoodie. For a second, Virgil thought vaguely of his friend Richie, and how he was going to call him later tonight to tell him happy thanksgiving and let him know that some poor soul had purchased the same outdated jacket as him.

It was only then that he saw blonde hair ruffle in the breeze and a pair of glasses set to the side of the docks.

"Richie?" Virgil said to himself.

He slowed his bike to a halt, dismounted, and wheeled it to the beginning of the wooden docks. After a moment of hesitation, he jolted his kickstand into place and decided to walk the remaining distance between the two of them.

Richie didn't hear Virgil coming until he was halfway there. He didn't turn around when he did hear someone approaching him though; he just spoke in an annoyed voice over his shoulder.

"If you are going to try and mug me, I must warn you, I'm broker than the toothfairy in a retirement home."

"Oh man, I am going to have to use that one."

Richie whipped around. He could recognize Virgil's voice from anywhere. And there he was. Even without his glasses, Richie could see Virgil's dreads were messy, his shirt had a rip in the bottom that Richie knew that Virgil didn't care about because this was his favorite shirt, and his sweats were a bit baggier than usual. He also had on a grin the size of Lake Onalaska.

And he was the most beautiful thing Richie had seen all day.

Well, almost. He reached for his glasses and put them on his face.

Ah, that's the ticket.

"What…what are you doin out here man?" Said Richie, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing." Said Virgil, kneeling down and sitting in the space next to Richie, though he did not dangle his legs over the dock like Richie had. Virgil had a thing with water. Instead, he sat Indian style and smiled to his companion. Richie sighed and smiled back; keeping secrets from Virgil was impossible.

So he explained what had happened. He talked about his grandmother's rude remarks, his parent's speechless faces, and his storming out of the house. At the end of his story, he just turned to look at his best friend.

"I'm an idiot man. A first class idiot. I am going to be dead when I get home."

Virgil shrugged. "Ok, so you're an idiot. Your cursed out your own grandma, and your dad is gonna blow a gasket when you get home. "

"Gee, thanks man." Richie said rolling his eyes.

"But, you stood up for yourself. And now you don't have to sit through 8 hours of verbal B.S. Hell, now you don't even have to sit through your yearly game of boggle." Virgil said optimistically, remembering how much Richie hated boggle.

Richie smiled and rolled his eyes once more. "You're not making me feel any better." He pretended to whine. But Virgil just laughed and nudged his friend in the side.

"Come on man. Like staying out here all night was gonna make you feel any better." Virgil pulled a serious face and a deep voice that was nothing like Richie's. "Hello, I'm Richie, and I'm going to stay out here and brood forever. FOREVER." He looked over at Richie to see if he was laughing.

And he was, the corners of his mouth betraying him and sending loose his embarrassingly goofy laugh. Virgil's smiled widened.

Then he got up from the damp wood and brushed off his knees. He looked down at Richie. "So, you coming?" He asked, holding out a hand.

"Coming where?" Said Richie, taking Virgil's hand, though his question had yet to have been answered.

"My place. My grandma always has room for one more. And, uh," Virgil looked away and scratched the back of his head, suddenly shy. "I uh, felt like we were missing more than gravy today. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was until just now I guess. "

Virgil looked forward at his best friend. He chanced at a pathetic smile for a second, hoping it would convince Richie to stay with him.

But Richie needed no convincing. Everything that had happened today seemed miles away, insignificant, compared to the smiling boy in front of him. It was as if Thanksgiving was the most glorious holiday in all existence and the Detroit Lions were actually going to win this year. He didn't even care that somewhere in this city his father was probably adding Richie's name to the 'people who are gonna get it when they get home' list.

But through what he was sure was a ridiculous smile showing on his face, he was suddenly stuck with an idea.

"Did I hear you say that you were looking for gravy?" Said Richie, placing his hand in his pocket and rummaging for a sec.

"Yeah man, but this entire city has been picked clean. I've been out for an hour already and—" But Virgil was instantly silenced by what Richie had pulled from his hoodie.

Two perfect packets of instant gravy sat in Richie's hands, the very ones that he had forgotten to put in the pantry earlier. Virgil could swear that he could hear an angelic chorus somewhere in the distance.

"Happy Thanksgiving? " Said Richie, trying to hold back his chuckles in response to Virgil's dumbstruck face.

"Well I'll be damned." Virgil said incredulously.

Richie scoffed. "Yeah, you will be if you make your pops wait any longer for dinner," Richie placed the gravy back in his pockets and walked ahead towards Virgil's bike. "All because of some gravy."

Virgil laughed and ran to catch up.

"Come on man, you have to admit, gravy is pretty important."

And at that particular moment, Richie saw no reason not to agree with his best friend.