Original: "Stacie's Mom" Slash
Stacie's Mom
Warning: Failure to keep within the word limit. I'm sorry!!! I couldn't cut anything out…*prostrates self* I beg your forgiveness
The secretary from the office knocked on the doorframe. "Steve, we've got a student for you to see."
Steven Preston looked up from his computer, surreptitiously exiting out of Solitaire. "I don't have any appointments…?"
The secretary shrugged, "Her teacher sent her down, looks like she started crying in class. Her name's Stacie Olsen."
"Oh, okay, thank you Ms. Mendle, send her in." The school counselor dug up his reading glasses and put them on before opening the student directory on his computer. A few quick taps had the system whirring and pulling up the student's profile. While it was loading Stacie walked in. Her head was down, her blond hair falling raggedly in her face. The picture of dejection. She took a seat.
There was a brief bio in the system. Name: Stacie Marie Olsen, Age: 17, Grade: Senior. A B-C student, more Bs than Cs, though it seemed her grades were taking a dive this semester.
Steve looked up to see that she hadn't looked at him yet. He cleared his throat and settled his hands firmly in his lap. He was not going to do the therapist steeple.
She looked up and stared. There was a weighty pause, then, "Your hair's green."
"Yes, and before you ask it involves an April-fools prank and an idiot who didn't know the difference between temporary and permanent dye."
Stacie gave a small smile.
Steve smiled back and set into his spiel, "Morning, Stacie, my name's Steve Preston. I'm a licensed practitioner of therapy. Before we begin I'd like to go over a few things…" he briefly spoke of confidentiality rights before ending with a question, "Do you know why you were sent to me?"
Stacie hung her head again and didn't speak.
"You were crying?" He prompted.
"So?" she said defensively, "it's not a crime to cry!"
"That is true. But you are not in trouble Stacie, your teacher was just concerned."
"Well she can mind her own business!"
Steve didn't reply and they sat in silence for a moment.
"Can I go now?"
"Will you tell me what is wrong?"
"No."
There was more silence.
"I'll have you know I did my internship working with voluntarily mute kids; I can outlast any silence."
Stacie scowled, "It's private okay?"
Steve gestured, "I've already assured you that it will stay within these walls as long as nobody would get hurt for it staying unsaid."
Conversation lapsed again. Inwardly Steve sighed and changed the subject. He only had an half hour to work with the kids and so he briskly walked through the intake interview getting Stacie warmed up to him. At the end of the session he knew that she liked swimming and the color pink. It was a start.
By request of the school he cleared an half hour every week to meet with Stacie. She wasn't the only student he was seeing, but he personally preferred his meetings with her. When she wasn't guarded he occasionally saw a bit of her bright optimistic personality-along with her wry humor sometimes they ended up laughing more often than not. Regardless, her grades continued to fail and he had yet to get to the root of the matter. He noticed that she carefully steered any conversation away from her family life. Finally, one week he asked.
"How is your family life?"
Stacie quieted. "You know I saw the funniest thing the other day-"
"Stacie." She stopped. He continued, "I would be more than happy talking about what you saw at some other time, I would like to talk about your family now."
She frowned and her legs came up to tuck under her chin. She cradled her legs and sat precariously on her chair. "It's just me and my dad now." She said very quietly.
"Is it? Where is your mother?"
She mumbled something that Steve couldn't hear. He patiently looked at her until she said it louder. "She ran off with my best friend."
Steve felt her misery, it was practically tangible. She started crying. The school counselor stood up and went over to his young friend and knelt-putting an arm around her shoulder. She cried into it. Five minutes and a tissue box later she had calmed back down. Steve glanced at the time, normally she would be leaving in a few minutes to go to the last class, but he didn't feel that she was in a state to do so.
"Stacie, would you like for me to get you excused from class? You can call your father to come and pick you up, or you can wait for the bus.
Stacie nodded, "call my dad, please?" she said, voice quiet with tears.
Steve patted her on the shoulder and stood up to make the calls to the necessary people.
Not twenty minutes later a thirty-something man came rushing into the counselor's office.
"Stacie? Is Stacie okay!?"
Steve could barely suppress a laugh and pointed across from himself. The man looked over to see his daughter smiling sheepishly at him.
"Stacie, is it alright if I speak with your father a moment about what we discussed?" She nodded and Steve led her father out of the room.
He briefly introduced himself and outlined why he had been seeing Stacie, "you don't have to worry, she is merely upset today by my questioning. I thought better that she go home."
Her father- Mick Olsen- gave a sigh and rubbed a hand over his messy brown locks. "You may have seen that her residency changed mid-way through the year?"
He hadn't, but he nodded anyways.
"Her mother and I split last year due to…irreconcilable differences. Stacie went with her mom, but a few months back she came home to an empty house and discovered she was missing one best friend." He gave an helpless shrug, "I've tried to be a good single parent, but I didn't even know she was having trouble at school." He hung his head, "I'm a terrible parent."
Steve's chest tightened slightly in sympathy-and something else. No, shame on you! He berated himself. You're not allowed to be attracted to your client's dad.
He placed a hand on Mick's shoulder. "Mr. Olsen, I think you're doing a great job, not many men would be able to take in their daughter just like that. Even less would come rushing to school still in his pajamas."
Mick was startled into looking down at himself. He was indeed still in his pajamas.
"Ah…em…well, I work at home you see…but normally I get dressed!"
The door to the office opened and Stacie peeked out. She looked curiously at the two men. Steve hastily dropped his hand.
"Can we go now Dad?"
"Ah, yeah," He patted his hands on pockets that weren't there looking for keys before realizing he still had them in his hand. "Let's go."
A week later.
"My dad's pretty good lookin' don'cha think?"
"I choose to professionally not comment on the relative attractiveness of my client's parents."
"Which means yes."
"Which means we're not talking about it."
She smiled, "he thinks you're pretty good looking too."
Steve sputtered.
"The reasons my parents split is that they realized that they both were attracted to men, rather than just one of them ya know."
"Stacie…that's private information you shouldn't be sharing."
She just smiled at him, "think about it."
Another week went by and Steve found himself meeting with Mick again. Stacie had gotten caught cheating on a pop-quiz and was being sent home early.
"Stacie…" Mick looked like he didn't know what to day and he looked at Steve, "Mr. Preston, I'm sorry for the trouble she caused, it won't happen again."
Steve waved off the apology, "Stacie's a good girl, just going through some rough stuff."
A month later he was reevaluating about her relative goodness. It seemed that every week now, if not more, she was getting into trouble. Her father and him were now a first name basis because they kept seeing each other so often. He was, yet again, in the office waiting for Mick to arrive. When he arrived he was dressed in actual clothes, but strangely Steve wanted to see him in pajamas again. Probably because his pajama shirt had been sleeveless.
"Will you stop getting in trouble already?" He asked his daughter, exasperated.
"You know what it takes to make me." She pursed her lips at him.
Steve looked on in surprise and curiosity, Stacie was trying to get her dad to do something…?
"Fine!" Mick bit out, "but you leave the room." Stacie beamed at him and flounced out of the room. Once she was gone Mick turned suddenly nervous.
"Steve…"
"Yes?" Really, what was going on.
"It appears that my daughter has noticed that I feel…less than properly towards you."
"Ah, huh?"
"Ilikeyou."
Steve was blown away, "Wha…?"
"Please! Will you go out with me?"
The school counselor sat back feeling like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. "I..I can't…"
Mick looked crestfallen, "I knew there wasn't a chance, but Stacie insisted that I tell you."
"I'm sorry Mick. It's not that I don't like you-"
"No. No, it's fine," Mick backed up towards the door, "I'm sure you're busy so I'll let you get on with your work." He went out and shut the door behind him.
Steve wanted to cry.
A week later.
"But why?!" Stacie exclaimed.
"Because you are my student. It's not right-and it's against the code of ethics-I could lose my license."
"So? You like him! He likes you!"
"I love my job too, Stacie," he said quietly, "would you have me abandon all the students here for my own personal pleasure?"
She frowned and walked out.
Graduation was as long and boring as usual. Afterwards he greeted the parents of the students he had helped. He saw the Olsens off in the distance and was trying to force himself to go and greet them.
Much to his surprise, when he finished conversing with a parent he turned around and found himself face to face with Mick.
Mick smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat, "I think you will agree, Mr. Preston, that my daughter is now graduated."
Steve quirked an eyebrow wondering what he was getting at. "Yes…" he dragged out the word like it was three.
"So you realize that she is no longer your student?"
Steve's heart thumped, was he getting at what he thought he was getting at? "Yes?"
Mick gave a devil-may-care smile. He placed a hand behind Steve's head and pulled him forward into a kiss in front of all the students and faculty.
They broke the kiss to whoops and hollers (and a few outraged gasps).
"Will you go out with me Steven Preston?"
"Yes," he managed to say as he was pulled into another kiss.
I am ecstatic that another story posted this Sunday was also related to a song. I'm liking this theme.
Warning: Failure to keep within the word limit. I'm sorry!!! I couldn't cut anything out…*prostrates self* I beg your forgiveness
The secretary from the office knocked on the doorframe. "Steve, we've got a student for you to see."
Steven Preston looked up from his computer, surreptitiously exiting out of Solitaire. "I don't have any appointments…?"
The secretary shrugged, "Her teacher sent her down, looks like she started crying in class. Her name's Stacie Olsen."
"Oh, okay, thank you Ms. Mendle, send her in." The school counselor dug up his reading glasses and put them on before opening the student directory on his computer. A few quick taps had the system whirring and pulling up the student's profile. While it was loading Stacie walked in. Her head was down, her blond hair falling raggedly in her face. The picture of dejection. She took a seat.
There was a brief bio in the system. Name: Stacie Marie Olsen, Age: 17, Grade: Senior. A B-C student, more Bs than Cs, though it seemed her grades were taking a dive this semester.
Steve looked up to see that she hadn't looked at him yet. He cleared his throat and settled his hands firmly in his lap. He was not going to do the therapist steeple.
She looked up and stared. There was a weighty pause, then, "Your hair's green."
"Yes, and before you ask it involves an April-fools prank and an idiot who didn't know the difference between temporary and permanent dye."
Stacie gave a small smile.
Steve smiled back and set into his spiel, "Morning, Stacie, my name's Steve Preston. I'm a licensed practitioner of therapy. Before we begin I'd like to go over a few things…" he briefly spoke of confidentiality rights before ending with a question, "Do you know why you were sent to me?"
Stacie hung her head again and didn't speak.
"You were crying?" He prompted.
"So?" she said defensively, "it's not a crime to cry!"
"That is true. But you are not in trouble Stacie, your teacher was just concerned."
"Well she can mind her own business!"
Steve didn't reply and they sat in silence for a moment.
"Can I go now?"
"Will you tell me what is wrong?"
"No."
There was more silence.
"I'll have you know I did my internship working with voluntarily mute kids; I can outlast any silence."
Stacie scowled, "It's private okay?"
Steve gestured, "I've already assured you that it will stay within these walls as long as nobody would get hurt for it staying unsaid."
Conversation lapsed again. Inwardly Steve sighed and changed the subject. He only had an half hour to work with the kids and so he briskly walked through the intake interview getting Stacie warmed up to him. At the end of the session he knew that she liked swimming and the color pink. It was a start.
By request of the school he cleared an half hour every week to meet with Stacie. She wasn't the only student he was seeing, but he personally preferred his meetings with her. When she wasn't guarded he occasionally saw a bit of her bright optimistic personality-along with her wry humor sometimes they ended up laughing more often than not. Regardless, her grades continued to fail and he had yet to get to the root of the matter. He noticed that she carefully steered any conversation away from her family life. Finally, one week he asked.
"How is your family life?"
Stacie quieted. "You know I saw the funniest thing the other day-"
"Stacie." She stopped. He continued, "I would be more than happy talking about what you saw at some other time, I would like to talk about your family now."
She frowned and her legs came up to tuck under her chin. She cradled her legs and sat precariously on her chair. "It's just me and my dad now." She said very quietly.
"Is it? Where is your mother?"
She mumbled something that Steve couldn't hear. He patiently looked at her until she said it louder. "She ran off with my best friend."
Steve felt her misery, it was practically tangible. She started crying. The school counselor stood up and went over to his young friend and knelt-putting an arm around her shoulder. She cried into it. Five minutes and a tissue box later she had calmed back down. Steve glanced at the time, normally she would be leaving in a few minutes to go to the last class, but he didn't feel that she was in a state to do so.
"Stacie, would you like for me to get you excused from class? You can call your father to come and pick you up, or you can wait for the bus.
Stacie nodded, "call my dad, please?" she said, voice quiet with tears.
Steve patted her on the shoulder and stood up to make the calls to the necessary people.
Not twenty minutes later a thirty-something man came rushing into the counselor's office.
"Stacie? Is Stacie okay!?"
Steve could barely suppress a laugh and pointed across from himself. The man looked over to see his daughter smiling sheepishly at him.
"Stacie, is it alright if I speak with your father a moment about what we discussed?" She nodded and Steve led her father out of the room.
He briefly introduced himself and outlined why he had been seeing Stacie, "you don't have to worry, she is merely upset today by my questioning. I thought better that she go home."
Her father- Mick Olsen- gave a sigh and rubbed a hand over his messy brown locks. "You may have seen that her residency changed mid-way through the year?"
He hadn't, but he nodded anyways.
"Her mother and I split last year due to…irreconcilable differences. Stacie went with her mom, but a few months back she came home to an empty house and discovered she was missing one best friend." He gave an helpless shrug, "I've tried to be a good single parent, but I didn't even know she was having trouble at school." He hung his head, "I'm a terrible parent."
Steve's chest tightened slightly in sympathy-and something else. No, shame on you! He berated himself. You're not allowed to be attracted to your client's dad.
He placed a hand on Mick's shoulder. "Mr. Olsen, I think you're doing a great job, not many men would be able to take in their daughter just like that. Even less would come rushing to school still in his pajamas."
Mick was startled into looking down at himself. He was indeed still in his pajamas.
"Ah…em…well, I work at home you see…but normally I get dressed!"
The door to the office opened and Stacie peeked out. She looked curiously at the two men. Steve hastily dropped his hand.
"Can we go now Dad?"
"Ah, yeah," He patted his hands on pockets that weren't there looking for keys before realizing he still had them in his hand. "Let's go."
A week later.
"My dad's pretty good lookin' don'cha think?"
"I choose to professionally not comment on the relative attractiveness of my client's parents."
"Which means yes."
"Which means we're not talking about it."
She smiled, "he thinks you're pretty good looking too."
Steve sputtered.
"The reasons my parents split is that they realized that they both were attracted to men, rather than just one of them ya know."
"Stacie…that's private information you shouldn't be sharing."
She just smiled at him, "think about it."
Another week went by and Steve found himself meeting with Mick again. Stacie had gotten caught cheating on a pop-quiz and was being sent home early.
"Stacie…" Mick looked like he didn't know what to day and he looked at Steve, "Mr. Preston, I'm sorry for the trouble she caused, it won't happen again."
Steve waved off the apology, "Stacie's a good girl, just going through some rough stuff."
A month later he was reevaluating about her relative goodness. It seemed that every week now, if not more, she was getting into trouble. Her father and him were now a first name basis because they kept seeing each other so often. He was, yet again, in the office waiting for Mick to arrive. When he arrived he was dressed in actual clothes, but strangely Steve wanted to see him in pajamas again. Probably because his pajama shirt had been sleeveless.
"Will you stop getting in trouble already?" He asked his daughter, exasperated.
"You know what it takes to make me." She pursed her lips at him.
Steve looked on in surprise and curiosity, Stacie was trying to get her dad to do something…?
"Fine!" Mick bit out, "but you leave the room." Stacie beamed at him and flounced out of the room. Once she was gone Mick turned suddenly nervous.
"Steve…"
"Yes?" Really, what was going on.
"It appears that my daughter has noticed that I feel…less than properly towards you."
"Ah, huh?"
"Ilikeyou."
Steve was blown away, "Wha…?"
"Please! Will you go out with me?"
The school counselor sat back feeling like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. "I..I can't…"
Mick looked crestfallen, "I knew there wasn't a chance, but Stacie insisted that I tell you."
"I'm sorry Mick. It's not that I don't like you-"
"No. No, it's fine," Mick backed up towards the door, "I'm sure you're busy so I'll let you get on with your work." He went out and shut the door behind him.
Steve wanted to cry.
A week later.
"But why?!" Stacie exclaimed.
"Because you are my student. It's not right-and it's against the code of ethics-I could lose my license."
"So? You like him! He likes you!"
"I love my job too, Stacie," he said quietly, "would you have me abandon all the students here for my own personal pleasure?"
She frowned and walked out.
Graduation was as long and boring as usual. Afterwards he greeted the parents of the students he had helped. He saw the Olsens off in the distance and was trying to force himself to go and greet them.
Much to his surprise, when he finished conversing with a parent he turned around and found himself face to face with Mick.
Mick smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat, "I think you will agree, Mr. Preston, that my daughter is now graduated."
Steve quirked an eyebrow wondering what he was getting at. "Yes…" he dragged out the word like it was three.
"So you realize that she is no longer your student?"
Steve's heart thumped, was he getting at what he thought he was getting at? "Yes?"
Mick gave a devil-may-care smile. He placed a hand behind Steve's head and pulled him forward into a kiss in front of all the students and faculty.
They broke the kiss to whoops and hollers (and a few outraged gasps).
"Will you go out with me Steven Preston?"
"Yes," he managed to say as he was pulled into another kiss.
I am ecstatic that another story posted this Sunday was also related to a song. I'm liking this theme.