Disclaimer: I do not own Moonlight or any of its characters.
Characters: Mick, Beth, Josef and an OC.
Rated G
Thank you Barnabas for the perfect story banner!
Previously in Follow That Freshie...
A few days before Thanksgiving Mick got up from his freezer and discovered a text message from Josef:
Hope to be back by the weekend. Please authorize the chef to make a turkey dinner with all the trimmings for the freshies. Thanks.
Mick thought for a moment and a sly grin crept across his face. Half an hour later he and Beth were in the car heading for Josef’s mansion.
Chapter 5
Josef stormed into his mansion tired and cranky. He had been able to leave Paris a few days earlier than he had originally planned but had been unable to contact his chauffeur back in LA to meet him at the airport. Thus he was forced to take a cab home. A cab! I’m going to have to burn this suit, he decided. He expected the mansion to be filled with the aromas of a proper Thanksgiving dinner and the gaiety of freshies enjoying said dinner. Instead, he found a deserted mansion. He dropped his suitcase in the foyer and went to the kitchen. No turkey. No trimmings. No chef! He called Mick and got his voice mail. He stomped off towards the freshies’ quarters. Not a soul was around. He called Beth. Voice mail again. He went to his garage and opened the door. Every car in the Freshie Fleet was gone. What the hell? He tried calling Taylor, his head freshie. No answer. Well, at least I can track their cars, Josef thought as he stomped off to his office. He had equipped all of their vehicles with GPS and he quickly called up their locations on his computer. He found them all parked within a few blocks of each other. And what are they doing in that part of town? I swear if there is so much as a scratch on any of those cars… The last thing he wanted to do after his long trip was hop into his car, but he had to find out what was going on. The Ferrari screeched out of the driveway and sped away.
Josef circled the block where he found the greatest concentration of his Freshie Fleet. Only one building seemed possible as their destination. A homeless shelter? That doesn’t make any sense. However when he spotted Mick’s car he knew this was the right place. Much to Josef’s annoyance, he ended up having to park a couple of blocks away from the mission. Try as he might, he could not figure out why all his freshies were at a homeless shelter on Thanksgiving. But I’m sure Mick has something to do with it.
When he entered the front of the mission, he didn’t need his vampire senses to find his way to the noisy hall. He barged into the hall and stopped dead in his tracks. The usually unflappable Josef Kostan was dumbfounded at the sight before him. Tables and tables full of men, women and children chattering and eating. Some of his freshies were bustling about clearing dishes; others were pouring coffee for the adults and milk for the children. Along the front wall was a long table laden with mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce and fresh rolls, all of it being served to the people in line by Taylor and rest of his girls. And my chauffeur! Near the end, wearing an apron and a tall paper chef’s hat, was Mick happily carving a turkey. And there, serving pumpkin, apple and pecan pies, were Beth and Kylie Jenkins laughing as if they were old friends.
What the hell is going on here? Frowning, Josef headed straight for Mick, determined to find out. But before he had gone two steps a smiling, rotund man wearing a cleric’s collar stepped in front of him, grabbed his hand and began pumping it up and down excitedly.
“Mr. Kostan!” he said in a booming voice. “What a surprise! I was told you couldn’t make it, yet here you are! I’m Father Ambrose. I run the mission here and I can’t thank you enough for donating our Thanksgiving dinner today! And the services of your personal chef as well! Why, we’ve never had such a delicious dinner! When your Executive Assistant, Miss Kylie – that’s what all the regulars here have called her ever since she started helping us serve a few months ago, ‘Miss Kylie’, because well, ‘Ms. Jenkins’ seems so formal, don’t you think? Anyway, when Miss Kylie and Mr. St. John – your Vice President – what a nice man! - came to me and told me how you wanted to help the mission by donating all the food for our Thanksgiving banquet I was just overwhelmed by your generosity! Because really, I had worried about how I was going to fund it this year. In these hard times we have been feeding so many more people, and so many more families and we couldn’t do it without benefactors like you! And then to send all of your administrative assistants also…” He leaned in close to Josef and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper… “Just between you and me it was much easier when we called them secretaries, don’t you agree?” as he nudged Josef with his elbow. He straightened back up and once again began speaking in a voice that could be heard clear across the room. “Well, you can see how appreciative everyone is and how much they are enjoying themselves.” Indeed, Josef was surrounded on all sides by people saying thank you, patting his back and wanting to shake his hand. “Come, I’m sure you’d like to carve some turkey yourself, wouldn’t you?” Father Ambrose smiled broadly as he propelled a speechless Josef through the crowd to the front of the room.
Mick overheard all the ramblings of Father Ambrose and could hardly keep a straight face. “Yes Josef, I’m sure you are looking forward to carving and serving the turkey,” Mick said smirking as he removed his paper chef’s hat and plopped it on top of Josef’s head. “And look! Here comes your personal chef with another whole turkey for you! What perfect timing!”
Kylie and Beth looked at Josef and giggled. He gave them a low warning growl and they immediately turned back to cutting slices of pie, grins plastered across their faces.
Mick had removed his apron and was in the process of tying it around Josef’s waist. In a low voice, Josef growled, “I’ll get you for this, St. John. I feel like the Pillsbury Doughboy!”
“Smile, Josef. Remember to smile,” Mick replied, enjoying every second.
One more chapter to go...
Truly delightful chapter... 
How nice: Mick, Beth, and all the freshies working together to help the less fortunate! 
The poor guy had to take a cab, come home to an empty house, find everyone at a homeless shelter serving a meal... which he paid for, and then, after all that, carve a turkey! But, I'm guessing his mood will improve shortly. 