Baltimore wasn't necessarily a quick drive but under the guise of looking at a new vehicle, he took the time to visit the only sibling he kept in regular contact with. Despite new case loads, Claire kept the same hours that she had nearly a decade before. One thing the Schmidt children all had in common was their inherent need for a regimented routine. He arrived early to her office while she was still out and made small talk with her administrative assistant who seemed to blanch at his arrival as though she'd missed it in the schedule. He assured her this was a surprise visit and made his way into his sister's back office without asking.

On her desk were pictures of Phil and her two daughters, a couple of the entire family from when they were younger, and a couple drawings done by her children. On the far right hand, there was an ornate jar that looked like it might've held someone's ashes but Brandon knew better. Popping off the lid revealed a mixture of assorted candies and nuts that he ate while he waited on his sister to get back, immediately regretting the decision as soon as his back molars ground together on a particularly caramel ball of chocolate. Weeding those out of his handful, he threw a couple pieces in the air and caught them in his mouth.

Claire wasn't listening to Stacy when she blustered in the front door. Court hadn't gone as planned and while she wasn't booked up for the majority of the day, the frustration was apparent. She needed a few minutes in her office followed by lunch to regain her composure. Stacy's mouth opened and closed a few times like a guppy fish as she tried to explain that her brother was waiting for her in the office but it was too late. Claire's hand turned the handle and caught her brother mid catch. Her briefcase clattered to the floor as her hand went over her chest.

"Christ Bran, you scared the shit out of me!" Claire exclaimed as she sent a fist into his shoulder while she picked up her case. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't like surprise visits?" Brandon asked with a smirk and shut the door on the red faced Stacy. "You really should be nicer to her, you know."

"Who?" Claire asked as she sat down behind her desk and swatted his hand away from her candy.

"Stacy," Brandon clarified. "Your administrative assistant. She's really nice. Kind of cute."

"Twenty-three," Claire said as she gave her brother a look.

"Twelve years doesn't really make that much of a difference."

"Thirteen, and don't be disgusting. What are you here for?"

"Honestly, I just came to take you out to lunch. Thought I might stop by and see the girls."

"Phil's with the girls today."

"Okay, so I'll see Phil and the girls," Brandon corrected with a shrug.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I'm on vacation."

"Vacation," Claire repeated as she tapped the middle of her top lip with her tongue. Her hands tensed and then relaxed, sensing that Brandon wasn't about to leave her alone for the time being. "You can tell me about it while we eat."

"That's what I'm talking about," Brandon said as he rolled out of his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two Milka bars. "Also, get rid of that caramel shit unless you're trying to pull your teeth out."

"You're paying, just for that," Claire said as she stood up and got her coat.

The two of them left the office together and just before they hit the front door, Brandon went back to swipe one of the Milka bars from his sister's desk. He set it on the corner of Stacy's desk with a wink and zipped up the fleece he'd driven to Baltimore in as he chased after his sister.

"Did you just give my assistant my Milka bar?" Claire asked as she unlocked her car.

"You had two, don't be greedy," Brandon shot back. "Besides, I bought them. I decide who gets to eat them."

"You can't renege on a gift, Bran."

"I didn't say they were for you, I put them on your desk. Keep it up and she'll eat the other one in front of you."

His sister's mood relaxed tenfold by the time they were seated in the restaurant. Of all days that her brother could've came to visit, this turned out to be the one where she needed levity the most. Brandon had always had a second sense when it came to family distress and while she wasn't going to get into it with him over lunch, hearing him talk in a genuinely good mood did wonders to improve her own attitude.

"So," Claire started, halfway through her salad, fork spinning.

"A button," Brandon replied back to her as he shoved the last spoonful of the soup of the day into his mouth.

"Mom says you asked for an extra place setting for Easter."

"I did," Brandon replied as he moved the empty soup bowl to the edge of the table.

"Seriously Bran?" Claire said as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" He tried to keep his mouth still. "Oh you want to be nosy. Why can't you just wait like everyone else?"

"Because I'm not everyone else." She finished up her salad and then crossed her arms in front of her. "Is it the woman I met in your apartment?"

"Which one?"

"Jesus Bran!" Claire hissed as she threw her napkin at him while he laughed.

"No, you haven't met her," he replied as he handed her back her napkin in time for their actual courses to arrive.

"I see." Claire concentrated on cutting her fish into thin, even slices while she mulled this over. "So after all this time, you're finally bringing someone home to meet the family and no one's met her before."

"Yep," Brandon replied around a mouthful of steak.

"We're your last stop, aren't we?" Claire asked with a grin as her teeth met her fork. It was then directed at him. "You think if you invite her to a family shitshow she'll decide you're not worth it, don't you?"

"That's assuming she's extremely naive don't you think?" It wasn't the entire reason, but Claire had always been a little too smart for her own good. "Besides, it's Easter. I would've picked a better holiday if I wanted to do that. I mean El's not even going to be there."

"Bärchen."

"Don't start or I'll cancel the whole thing," Bandon shot back with a look. Claire's mouth curled wide and distinctively smug while she ate.

"What's her name?" Claire asked.

"Nina," Brandon replied.

ST. PATRICK'S DAY: A LIVER SURVIVAL GUIDE

St. Patricks Day by definition: the one day out of the year where 2% of the earth's population proceeds to get the other 98% completely shitfaced.

PHASE 1. SELECTION OF TACTICAL GEAR.

Selection of tactical gear is almost as important as proper rest and hydration the night before. St. Patrick's day is traditionally the one day out of the year where binge drinking is not only accepted but considered a rite of passage. This means that proper gear must be employed to ensure complete survival in the wilds of Irish themed bar crawls.

1. Selecting a uniform.
While the kilt remains a point of contention for most Irish born nationals and their American counterparts, one cannot deny the "quick piss" factor. German MacLeod tartan ("There can only be one" jokes are always appreciated) was specifically designed for this day and can be held up with a traditional utility belt or a personal favorite, the Irish shot suspender. This increases risk of party foul and should only be worn by the seasoned veteran.

When selecting a shirt, it's helpful to remember that the cornier the better. Headwear is non-negotiable. A standard green bowler or tophat will do and if made out of plastic, serves as a great sickbag in the event of a taxi-foul.

2. Selecting a drinking partner.
It should be noted that in order to survive there needs to be another party involved at all times. This person may not fit in your utility kilt, but they will save your life -- especially if you're in the danger zone of drinking where every fine lass on the street you see, you'd like to follow home or Taco Bell sounds like an exceptional idea around midnight. Everyone knows that is not the proper option until the bars close.

3. Selecting the correct pregame beverages.
Many would dive straight into the green beer or Irish car bombs without thinking of the potential ruin. The correct pregame would be a strong pot of coffee and a select whiskey. John Powers, Tullamore Dew, Clontarf 1816, or standard Jameson ought to suffice. There's a reason that Irish Coffee was invented; to protect the body from falling prey to whiskey's natural night-night factor. If you neglect this step, you are more than likely going to die.

PHASE 2: PREGAME THE PREGAME.

Depending on the time of day you intend to begin your drunken journey, you will first need to complete the following:

- Complete sober checklist. Be sure to know where keys, phones, emergency contact numbers, and the nearest IV clinic are. Prepare your route and recheck to be sure no bars have closed or changed locations. Nothing's worse than showing up for a party that doesn't exist.

- Take a long, very hot shower and liberally apply aftershave or cologne depending on the state of beard you're attempting to achieve. One might suggest that dousing one's self in these smell good items is a bit overkill but by the time that the sun sets, your pores will more than likely be excreting pure unadulterated liquor and other poisons. No one wants to smell like hot foot in wet boot.

- Put on your tactical gear and arrange to meet your drinking buddy at either your home base or theirs. It is important to figure out which you will be departing from so that all of your non-important items are safely secured. This does include aspirin, at least two gallons of purified water, one or two slices of bread (pre-buttered because be honest with yourself, you will not be able to hold anything by the end of the night) and your last will and testament, just in case.

- Eat a full course meal. Nothing is worse than getting drunk too quickly without having something lining your stomach. Later on, you will switch to easily pronounceable items like "popcorn" or "saltines."

PHASE 3. LOUGH AND LOAD

When you've arrived at said homebase, be sure there is a responsible party who will not only look out for your aforementioned things but also preserve your dignity. Begin your night promptly after all parties are out of work for the evening. Reccomended drinking game: Farts in the Wind. Listen to all of James Joyce's dirty letters to Nora and take a shot every time the word "fart" is mentioned.* You can also substitute a shot for a sip of a shot so you don't die before you get to a bar.

Once you're plenty loaded (it shouldn't take more than two letters if you're doing it correctly) hand over your phone, keys, and other important items that shouldn't be lost to said responsible party. Maggie Cooper is a perfect example as she'll not only help you find your items, but draw a smiley face on your ass to preserve your dignity (if you ask nicely in every language you know.)

Now you're ready to wedge yourself into every bar you come across that has a remotely Irish name. One might think that going straight for the green beer is a smart choice, but that should be saved for the interim. Remember, the clock doesn't strike midnight for a few hours so pace yourself. Or, you can throw caution to the wind and end up vomiting on the curb with the rest of the drunks out on amateur night.

It's important to mention that as the night continues on, you should have an exit strategy in place in case of an emergency. This can be due to anything from a poor shot to a bar brawl. Whatever the circumstance is, it's important that your drinking buddy be clued in or else they'll continue to sing the wrong words to one of the greatest Irish songs ever made. Personal preference: a tiny top hat beneath a green bowler. It's an unexpected touch of class that can bring the mood up in any room when the bowler's tipped. It's also good if one of you can dance something traditional.

PHASE 4. RECOVERY

More than likely, you will not remember the night before so it's important to ask your drinking buddy if they recall anything either. Once you've both established that the Vegas rule is in place, feel free to treat your responsible party and drinking buddy to a fine Irish fare of eggs and bacon, or whatever they want. They've earned it.

Pat yourself on the back, kid. You've survived yet another American bastardization of another country's culture. Some actual information on the holiday can be found here.