Time Warp
Title: Time Warp
Pairings: Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, AU's, mentions of Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry
Rating: PG
Summary: Mike Chang loves his children, really, but three mini versions of Tina and him are a bit much sometimes.
Bit of a future!Tike crackfic. Because imagining these two as parents is way too much fun. Some references to established plot in Asian Kiss: Sweet Caroline.
He opens the door to two sounds, each with the respective sights. The first is Carrie, dressed in an odd combination of leopard print-tights, purple dress and black hoodie, twirling around their cream-carpeted living room to Thriller. Not an entirely unusual sight given that she’s their kid, but as Mike toes off his sneakers he can’t help but watch her move; Tina’s a good dancer but there’s something about the way his little girl moves to the music that reminds Mike a scary amount of him when he was her age. Although he didn’t have to contend with long braids of black hair whipping him in the face every time he spun.
And while he wants to go join her and dance it out, because that’s basically what 90% of their father-daughter time consists of, Tina standing at the entrance to the kitchen with both hands on her hips yelling is a bit more pressing of an issue. Not entirely unusual either, although from the look in her eyes Mike knows she’s had one hell of a day.
“What’s wrong, Tee?”
“Your son. He’s your son, Michael Chang. Do something!”
Caroline is oblivious, which really is just more proof that she’s totally his kid, so Mike pads past her and towards Tina, wrapping his arms around her frame, slightly fuller than when they were in high school but still gorgeous and curvaceous and honestly, smoking hot, taking the vegetable peeler from her hand in the process. He really doesn’t need more kitchen instruments tossed at his head. The spoon hurt last time.
“What did my son do?”
“He’s missing. Or hiding. Or something,” her voice rises again, and this is probably the closest he’s seen her to hysterics in a while, “I’ve been looking for him for an hour, Mike and he won’t come out and what if I forgot to lock the back door and he walked out and-”
“Did you check to see if the back door is locked?”
“Yes, but-”
“And it’s locked isn’t it?” He rubs the pads of his thumbs in soft circles over Tina’s waist as she nods, “So he’s in the house. He’s just hiding again. Take a deep breath.”
“I- I know that but I keep calling and calling and-”
“It’s not his fault he’s quiet.”
“It’s yours!
It’s moments like this, when Tina’s exhausted and filled with motherly worry that takes form in yelling and arm flailing and making him the one responsible for the personality traits of their children that yeah, really are his fault, that Mike falls a little bit more in love with her. Because even though they’ve been together for twelve years, twelve, she’s still the same head-strong, spunky Tina that she was back at Asian Camp.
“Did you check the closet?”
“Yes,” Tina’s eyes narrow and Mike resists the urge to step backwards, “I think I remember where he was hiding last time, Michael.”
“I meant our closet?”
“Why would your son be in our closet?”
“Just a hunch.”
For such a tiny person Tina has a lot of furry, hair whipping as she wrenches free of Mike’s grasp and heads for the stairs. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to check on Carrie- it’s parental habit even though as long as the record doesn’t need to be flipped she’ll be fine- Mike follows Tina’s path. Their house isn’t huge and he’s quite a bit taller than Tina so it doesn’t take long to catch up right as she stalks into their bedroom and flings the closet door open. He sort of wants to mention that scaring the daylights out of their son might not be the best idea but refrains as Tina bends to riddle through the contents. He’s really not ashamed to lean against the door frame and ogle his wife’s ass as she does so because Mike’s learnt after two kids to appreciate every opportunity his insane life gives him. Even if it’s just an opportunity to ogle.
“He’s not here, Mike. He’s not here.”
“Whatchya lookin’ for Mommy?”
To be fair, the little voice that comes from their bed gives him a bit of a start, Tina shrieking as she turns around to stare at Nate swinging his legs off the side of the queen mattress. His hair is poking up at random angles and there’s a smudge of chocolate along the corner of his mouth but the three-year old looks quite unharmed, although a bit perplexed as to why his mother is frantically patting him down like he’s under arrest or something. Mike’d be a bit perplexed too, especially when Tina starts taking big, gasping breaths on the verge of tears.
“Nathan Michael Chang where have you been?”
“In the closet playing. And then I hadda pee. And you was busy lookin’ through the closet so I wait here,” there’s a slight pause, “What were you lookin’ for?”
His kid is a freaking ninja.
--
“Where’d you get the flowers?”
“Nate.”
The grin that springs to Tina’s face makes Mike grin, tossing his white undershirt in the direction of the laundry hamper and obviously missing again from the way Tina’s eyes roll. She’s leaning against the headboard, bare legs pulled up to her chest, wearing one of his very over sized shirts on her petite frame, and there’s something about the way she watches him undress for bed that Mike loves. It’s not that he ever doubted they’d make it this far together- he knew when he asked her to marry him when they were twenty that they were in it for the long haul- but knowing that despite being in their thirties and having two kids and a ridiculously insane life together that the attraction hasn’t gone away? Pretty awesome.
“You know, those flowers look an awful lot like the ones Q plants and Puck complains about….”
Tina switches off her bedside lamp, the colourful blooms in a small vase beside it, as Mike crawls into his side of their bed, closest to the door because that’s just how they’ve always slept since they bought the house; Tina stopped ranting about the sexism of it all not long after Carrie was born. It’s a familiar routine for them; Mike’s on his back and Tina slowly shuffles over until she’s half lying on him and there’s hands trying to find skin and hands trying to brush stray hair away because waking up with a mouthful of hair isn’t cool, not to mention a lot of giggling considering they’re both grown adults.
“We might have gone on an impromptu visit to see Q and Sara and the twins….”
“Where our son hijacked flowers from her garden?”
“For his mother,” Tina teases into his chest, “It was so sweet, Mike. He’s such a little charmer.”
“Just like his Dad.”
Her laugh is airy and passionate, Mike looking down at Tina as she shakes her head in amusement at him before nestling further into his chest. His arms rest low on her waist, up underneath the bunched fabric of his shirt and one thumb rolls over the waistband of her panties absent-mindedly.
“I don’t know… it’s been a while since his Dad charmed his Mom with flowers….”
“Ouch, Tee. Ouch.”
“I’m just stating a fact.”
“Are you now?” Mike mumbles into her lips, rolling so Tina’s pressed into the soft fabric of their mattress.
“I am,” she challenges, chin raised defiantly.
“Then I guess you leave me no choice but to prove how charming I am even without flowers…”
--
“We have three kids.”
“I know, love.”
“Three kids.”
“I’m very aware, Mike.”
“What were we thinking?”
The hospital room is the quietest it’s been in almost 24-hours, Tina with her hair still matted and sticky against her forehead reclining in the bed while Mike’s perched on the edge of the mattress, good hand holding the ice pack to the fingers he’s fairly certain Tina’s permanently damaged. Her eyes are closed and Mike knows he should let her sleep, hell, he wants to curl up and sleep and all he did was feed her ice chips and whisper encouragement and remind her to breathe and let her break his fingers. She’s probably utterly exhausted.
Especially after the tornado that was Caroline and Nate showing up with his parents.
“I don’t think we were thinking, Mike. That’s sort of how we ended up with three kids.”
He can’t help but kiss her.
--
When he hears the front door open Mike sincerely hopes it’s Tina and not some random burglar because he has absolutely no intention of moving from the couch unless he’s absolutely forced to. The tv is in mute, images lighting up the dark family room and he can just make out her shadow before he can see Tina slip into the room. She looks flushed and ridiculously wide awake for quarter to midnight and she smells like vanilla and peppermint when she gets near enough; it hits him then just how damn much he missed her.
“Hey you.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up.”
“I don’t think I can move,” he yawns while she giggles, perching on the edge of the couch, “No, seriously, I think you might need to help me up.”
“You’re an old man, babe.”
He can’t help but raise an eyebrow, pulling Tina down so he can kiss her. She ends up practically straddling him, hair half pulled out of the braid it was in and lips swollen and red. She looks stunning.
“A very sexy old man.”
“I’ll accept it,” he grumbles, tightening his arms around her waist.
“Did they really wear you out that badly? It was three days.”
“Three days with three kids under the age of eight. I wished for a swift death more than once.”
“Their swift death or yours?” she laughs.
“Mine. Particularly when Nate taught Adriana the song that never ends.”
“Oh God.”
“I want the record to state I am not a bad parent for wearing earplugs for the majority of Saturday evening and all-day today.”
“The record shall state.”
“Also, we’re getting Caroline an ipod or something for her birthday.”
“The louder Adriana sang the louder the volume on the record player went? And the more excuses Nate found to hide away reading in the attic?”
“He’s the one who gave me the earplugs.”
She’s trying so hard not to laugh and Mike loves Tina for it because as much as he feels like he’s aged years in the last three days, he knows she’s dying to remind him that all of the insanity is her life. That she totally deserved the girls vacation she took with Quinn and Rachel. Mike knows he’s a far too mellow and laid-back person to be a stay-at-home parent like Tina; yeah, it had been her choice and Mike would have gladly stayed at home, but given that the kids walked all over him all weekend it’s pretty obvious that Tina’s the better parent. Sure, Mike knows no one died or had to go to the emergency room and so as far as Tina and he are concerned that’s considered successful parenting. But now that they’re all old enough to talk, or sing, Mike thinks would probably end up hiding in the attic with Nate if he were at home all the time.
“You’re a pretty awesome Mom, you know that?”
“Mmmm. I know.”
“Humble too.”
“Obviously.”
--
“God, Mike, calm down. You’re making a scene.”
“I’m so nervous.”
It comes out as a highly undignified and unmanly squeak, Adria busting into laughter as Tina rolls her eyes. The bell has just started going off, letting everyone waiting in the lobby know that it’s time to take their seats, and he’s trying not to have a meltdown because his baby girl- his Caroline, Carrie, Care-bear- is going to be up on stage dancing and oh god. Oh god.
“Michael Chang, stop flailing.”
“I’m not flailing,” he protests, wringing the program in his hand, “I’m nervous.”
“You’ve said that, Dad.”
His own son is looking at him like he’s insane and Mike pauses for a moment to take a deep breath because really, Nate is a good judgment of insanity. The kid has two sisters and a naturally emotional mother so he’s a pretty intuitive ten-year old. The auditorium lobby is starting to empty and Adriana and Nate are already heading towards the doors, tickets in hand, while Tina fiddles with his tie for a second; even with heels on she’s still a fair bit shorter than he is.
“This isn’t the first time she’s had a dance recital, Mike. It’s going to be fine.”
“She’s never had a solo before.”
“I know,” Tina soothes, hand resting on his chest, “And she will do wonderfully. She’s every bit your child, Mike. She’s a natural born dancer.”
“She gets her performance skills from you,” he counters, “She’s fearless.”
“Which is why she’ll be fine. You just need to relax and enjoy it.”
They’ve been inching towards the doorway and Mike flashes Tina a sideways grin as the usher takes their tickets.
“When Adriana gets her first solo in a school musical can I use your words against you?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Pairings: Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, AU's, mentions of Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry
Rating: PG
Summary: Mike Chang loves his children, really, but three mini versions of Tina and him are a bit much sometimes.
Bit of a future!Tike crackfic. Because imagining these two as parents is way too much fun. Some references to established plot in Asian Kiss: Sweet Caroline.
He opens the door to two sounds, each with the respective sights. The first is Carrie, dressed in an odd combination of leopard print-tights, purple dress and black hoodie, twirling around their cream-carpeted living room to Thriller. Not an entirely unusual sight given that she’s their kid, but as Mike toes off his sneakers he can’t help but watch her move; Tina’s a good dancer but there’s something about the way his little girl moves to the music that reminds Mike a scary amount of him when he was her age. Although he didn’t have to contend with long braids of black hair whipping him in the face every time he spun.
And while he wants to go join her and dance it out, because that’s basically what 90% of their father-daughter time consists of, Tina standing at the entrance to the kitchen with both hands on her hips yelling is a bit more pressing of an issue. Not entirely unusual either, although from the look in her eyes Mike knows she’s had one hell of a day.
“What’s wrong, Tee?”
“Your son. He’s your son, Michael Chang. Do something!”
Caroline is oblivious, which really is just more proof that she’s totally his kid, so Mike pads past her and towards Tina, wrapping his arms around her frame, slightly fuller than when they were in high school but still gorgeous and curvaceous and honestly, smoking hot, taking the vegetable peeler from her hand in the process. He really doesn’t need more kitchen instruments tossed at his head. The spoon hurt last time.
“What did my son do?”
“He’s missing. Or hiding. Or something,” her voice rises again, and this is probably the closest he’s seen her to hysterics in a while, “I’ve been looking for him for an hour, Mike and he won’t come out and what if I forgot to lock the back door and he walked out and-”
“Did you check to see if the back door is locked?”
“Yes, but-”
“And it’s locked isn’t it?” He rubs the pads of his thumbs in soft circles over Tina’s waist as she nods, “So he’s in the house. He’s just hiding again. Take a deep breath.”
“I- I know that but I keep calling and calling and-”
“It’s not his fault he’s quiet.”
“It’s yours!
It’s moments like this, when Tina’s exhausted and filled with motherly worry that takes form in yelling and arm flailing and making him the one responsible for the personality traits of their children that yeah, really are his fault, that Mike falls a little bit more in love with her. Because even though they’ve been together for twelve years, twelve, she’s still the same head-strong, spunky Tina that she was back at Asian Camp.
“Did you check the closet?”
“Yes,” Tina’s eyes narrow and Mike resists the urge to step backwards, “I think I remember where he was hiding last time, Michael.”
“I meant our closet?”
“Why would your son be in our closet?”
“Just a hunch.”
For such a tiny person Tina has a lot of furry, hair whipping as she wrenches free of Mike’s grasp and heads for the stairs. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to check on Carrie- it’s parental habit even though as long as the record doesn’t need to be flipped she’ll be fine- Mike follows Tina’s path. Their house isn’t huge and he’s quite a bit taller than Tina so it doesn’t take long to catch up right as she stalks into their bedroom and flings the closet door open. He sort of wants to mention that scaring the daylights out of their son might not be the best idea but refrains as Tina bends to riddle through the contents. He’s really not ashamed to lean against the door frame and ogle his wife’s ass as she does so because Mike’s learnt after two kids to appreciate every opportunity his insane life gives him. Even if it’s just an opportunity to ogle.
“He’s not here, Mike. He’s not here.”
“Whatchya lookin’ for Mommy?”
To be fair, the little voice that comes from their bed gives him a bit of a start, Tina shrieking as she turns around to stare at Nate swinging his legs off the side of the queen mattress. His hair is poking up at random angles and there’s a smudge of chocolate along the corner of his mouth but the three-year old looks quite unharmed, although a bit perplexed as to why his mother is frantically patting him down like he’s under arrest or something. Mike’d be a bit perplexed too, especially when Tina starts taking big, gasping breaths on the verge of tears.
“Nathan Michael Chang where have you been?”
“In the closet playing. And then I hadda pee. And you was busy lookin’ through the closet so I wait here,” there’s a slight pause, “What were you lookin’ for?”
His kid is a freaking ninja.
--
“Where’d you get the flowers?”
“Nate.”
The grin that springs to Tina’s face makes Mike grin, tossing his white undershirt in the direction of the laundry hamper and obviously missing again from the way Tina’s eyes roll. She’s leaning against the headboard, bare legs pulled up to her chest, wearing one of his very over sized shirts on her petite frame, and there’s something about the way she watches him undress for bed that Mike loves. It’s not that he ever doubted they’d make it this far together- he knew when he asked her to marry him when they were twenty that they were in it for the long haul- but knowing that despite being in their thirties and having two kids and a ridiculously insane life together that the attraction hasn’t gone away? Pretty awesome.
“You know, those flowers look an awful lot like the ones Q plants and Puck complains about….”
Tina switches off her bedside lamp, the colourful blooms in a small vase beside it, as Mike crawls into his side of their bed, closest to the door because that’s just how they’ve always slept since they bought the house; Tina stopped ranting about the sexism of it all not long after Carrie was born. It’s a familiar routine for them; Mike’s on his back and Tina slowly shuffles over until she’s half lying on him and there’s hands trying to find skin and hands trying to brush stray hair away because waking up with a mouthful of hair isn’t cool, not to mention a lot of giggling considering they’re both grown adults.
“We might have gone on an impromptu visit to see Q and Sara and the twins….”
“Where our son hijacked flowers from her garden?”
“For his mother,” Tina teases into his chest, “It was so sweet, Mike. He’s such a little charmer.”
“Just like his Dad.”
Her laugh is airy and passionate, Mike looking down at Tina as she shakes her head in amusement at him before nestling further into his chest. His arms rest low on her waist, up underneath the bunched fabric of his shirt and one thumb rolls over the waistband of her panties absent-mindedly.
“I don’t know… it’s been a while since his Dad charmed his Mom with flowers….”
“Ouch, Tee. Ouch.”
“I’m just stating a fact.”
“Are you now?” Mike mumbles into her lips, rolling so Tina’s pressed into the soft fabric of their mattress.
“I am,” she challenges, chin raised defiantly.
“Then I guess you leave me no choice but to prove how charming I am even without flowers…”
--
“We have three kids.”
“I know, love.”
“Three kids.”
“I’m very aware, Mike.”
“What were we thinking?”
The hospital room is the quietest it’s been in almost 24-hours, Tina with her hair still matted and sticky against her forehead reclining in the bed while Mike’s perched on the edge of the mattress, good hand holding the ice pack to the fingers he’s fairly certain Tina’s permanently damaged. Her eyes are closed and Mike knows he should let her sleep, hell, he wants to curl up and sleep and all he did was feed her ice chips and whisper encouragement and remind her to breathe and let her break his fingers. She’s probably utterly exhausted.
Especially after the tornado that was Caroline and Nate showing up with his parents.
“I don’t think we were thinking, Mike. That’s sort of how we ended up with three kids.”
He can’t help but kiss her.
--
When he hears the front door open Mike sincerely hopes it’s Tina and not some random burglar because he has absolutely no intention of moving from the couch unless he’s absolutely forced to. The tv is in mute, images lighting up the dark family room and he can just make out her shadow before he can see Tina slip into the room. She looks flushed and ridiculously wide awake for quarter to midnight and she smells like vanilla and peppermint when she gets near enough; it hits him then just how damn much he missed her.
“Hey you.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up.”
“I don’t think I can move,” he yawns while she giggles, perching on the edge of the couch, “No, seriously, I think you might need to help me up.”
“You’re an old man, babe.”
He can’t help but raise an eyebrow, pulling Tina down so he can kiss her. She ends up practically straddling him, hair half pulled out of the braid it was in and lips swollen and red. She looks stunning.
“A very sexy old man.”
“I’ll accept it,” he grumbles, tightening his arms around her waist.
“Did they really wear you out that badly? It was three days.”
“Three days with three kids under the age of eight. I wished for a swift death more than once.”
“Their swift death or yours?” she laughs.
“Mine. Particularly when Nate taught Adriana the song that never ends.”
“Oh God.”
“I want the record to state I am not a bad parent for wearing earplugs for the majority of Saturday evening and all-day today.”
“The record shall state.”
“Also, we’re getting Caroline an ipod or something for her birthday.”
“The louder Adriana sang the louder the volume on the record player went? And the more excuses Nate found to hide away reading in the attic?”
“He’s the one who gave me the earplugs.”
She’s trying so hard not to laugh and Mike loves Tina for it because as much as he feels like he’s aged years in the last three days, he knows she’s dying to remind him that all of the insanity is her life. That she totally deserved the girls vacation she took with Quinn and Rachel. Mike knows he’s a far too mellow and laid-back person to be a stay-at-home parent like Tina; yeah, it had been her choice and Mike would have gladly stayed at home, but given that the kids walked all over him all weekend it’s pretty obvious that Tina’s the better parent. Sure, Mike knows no one died or had to go to the emergency room and so as far as Tina and he are concerned that’s considered successful parenting. But now that they’re all old enough to talk, or sing, Mike thinks would probably end up hiding in the attic with Nate if he were at home all the time.
“You’re a pretty awesome Mom, you know that?”
“Mmmm. I know.”
“Humble too.”
“Obviously.”
--
“God, Mike, calm down. You’re making a scene.”
“I’m so nervous.”
It comes out as a highly undignified and unmanly squeak, Adria busting into laughter as Tina rolls her eyes. The bell has just started going off, letting everyone waiting in the lobby know that it’s time to take their seats, and he’s trying not to have a meltdown because his baby girl- his Caroline, Carrie, Care-bear- is going to be up on stage dancing and oh god. Oh god.
“Michael Chang, stop flailing.”
“I’m not flailing,” he protests, wringing the program in his hand, “I’m nervous.”
“You’ve said that, Dad.”
His own son is looking at him like he’s insane and Mike pauses for a moment to take a deep breath because really, Nate is a good judgment of insanity. The kid has two sisters and a naturally emotional mother so he’s a pretty intuitive ten-year old. The auditorium lobby is starting to empty and Adriana and Nate are already heading towards the doors, tickets in hand, while Tina fiddles with his tie for a second; even with heels on she’s still a fair bit shorter than he is.
“This isn’t the first time she’s had a dance recital, Mike. It’s going to be fine.”
“She’s never had a solo before.”
“I know,” Tina soothes, hand resting on his chest, “And she will do wonderfully. She’s every bit your child, Mike. She’s a natural born dancer.”
“She gets her performance skills from you,” he counters, “She’s fearless.”
“Which is why she’ll be fine. You just need to relax and enjoy it.”
They’ve been inching towards the doorway and Mike flashes Tina a sideways grin as the usher takes their tickets.
“When Adriana gets her first solo in a school musical can I use your words against you?”
“Don’t even think about it.”