Suits: A Lawyer Surviving TV Chaos

Martin left his cousin Claire's house after 1 a.m. Claire had insisted he stay the night to meet their uncle Jack and Mitchell, but Martin waved her off. Reconnecting with estranged family after years of feud required finesse, not haste. 

Of course, he'd forgotten one thing: Claire had the patience of a caffeinated squirrel. 

—————————— 

Though Thanksgiving offered just a one-day break, Martin extended his holiday through the weekend. By 6:15 a.m. on Black Friday, his internal clock dragged him awake. Bleary-eyed, he shuffled to the kitchen in his robe to prep breakfast for his roommates. 

No, Martin wasn't a morning person—just the earliest riser. His culinary skills? Minimal. But assembling a breakfast was idiot-proof: whole-wheat toast, tomato slices, ham, purple cabbage, and a fried egg stacked into a sandwich, diagonally sliced. Add milk. Done. 

*Bang-bang-bang!* 

The door shuddered. Penny, in pajamas and bedhead, barged in. 

"Morning, Penny! You look stunning today!" Martin called over his shoulder, chopping tomatoes. 

"Try *looking* at me before lying," she snorted, flopping onto a stool. 

"If Sheldon was here right now he would cite ten studies proving genuine surprise lasts 0.3 seconds. Anything longer's fake." 

Penny gagged. "Ugh, don't Sheldon me before coffee." 

Martin glanced up. "No men here worth dressing up for?" 

"Between the horny nerds and the prepubescent critic?" Penny smirked. "Though *you*…" She eyed him theatrically. "Say the word, and I'll rock the 'Emperor's New Clothes' for you." 

Martin slid a plate toward her. "Eat, you menace." 

Sheldon emerged on schedule, freezing at the sight of Penny. "You're awake before noon? Did hell freeze over?" 

"Let me *chew*, you robot!" 

Leonard stumbled in next, drawn by the chaos. Martin handed him a sandwich as Penny declared, "Eat up, guys! We hit the mall in 30!" 

The trio groaned. Black Friday crowds were their kryptonite. 

"Martin, you're *really* skipping?" Penny pressed. 

"Crowds give me hives," he said, tapping his wallet-pocket reflexively—a habit from past lives (and pickpockets). 

Sheldon bristled. "Why does *he* get a pass?" 

"Because," Martin sipped milk, "I earn enough to ignore 50%-off DC merch. *You* need discounts." 

Penny mimed shooting Sheldon. "*Bang.*" 

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**(End of Chapter)** 

*Thanks for reading! *