Fix Me (3/?)
Title: Fix Me (3/?)
Author: chelseaadd
Pairing: Steve/Chris
Warning: Swearing in this section.
Rating: I guess PG - 13... there's swearing
Summary: One spat can change everything forever. What will it take to fix a broken man?
Chris didn’t even bother trying to wash the sheets, he just threw them away. He didn’t want to put sheets that had been urinated on in his washer.
After Jordan’s little announcement, the first thing he’d done was attempt damage control on his bed. She thought it was hilarious when he struggled to flip the queen sized mattress all by himself.
You have no idea what a blow it is to your pride when a girl who isn’t even four yet, is laughing at you, while standing there in wet purple overalls.
After he’d flipped his mattress and thrown the sheets away, he took Jordan to the guest bathroom, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to give the little girl a bath.
That gave awkward a whole new meaning.
~*~
Steve closed his eyes and gripped the arm rests tightly, his knuckles turning white. He wasn’t sure which part was worse, the taking off or the landing. He did know, however, that he wasn’t looking forward to the landing in the not too distant future..
Ten minutes passed after take off before he was pulled out of his ‘Zen Zone’.
“Sir, would you like a set of headphones? Toy Story 2 is playing.” A flight attendant asked sweetly, smiling down at him.
“I’m a fucking grown man. Why the hell would I want to watch fucking Toy Story?! HELL NO!”
“No thank you, I think I’m just going to sleep.” He said with a small smile, forcing his hands to relax off the arm rests.
“Alright. Just yell if you need anything, alright?” She asked, beaming still.
“No.”
“Sure.” He replied with a smile.
“Not watching fucking Toy Story.”
~*~
“Toy Stories!” Jordan demanded from her spot on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan, wearing one of Christian’s shirts while he washed her clothes (using four times the recommended amount of soap).
“I don’t have Toy Stories.” Chris responded as calmly as he could, mentally banging his head against the wall.
“T-T-Toy S-stor-ies?” She hiccupped, her blue eyes welling up, her lower lip quivering.
“SOMEONE KILL ME NOW!”
“Jordan, please don’t cry.” He begged, trying to hide his frustration. He wasn’t exactly cut out to be a spur of the moment father.
“TOY STORIES!” She screamed, her too-pale face turning redder and redder the more she screamed.
“I don’t have it!”
Jordan bawled harder and threw herself on the floor, going into full on tantrum mode, kicking and pounding her fists on the floor.
“BABY KANE!”
“Jordan, that’s not going to work.” Chris said matter of factly.
~*~
“Christian better have a good fucking explanation for all of this.” Steve thought, waiting on his duffel and guitar.
The plane ride had taken forever in Steve time. The entire time, he got no sleep. He just stared mindlessly at the screen, watching Toy Story 2, without any audio.
Steve grabbed his heavily stickered guitar case and his duffel bag and trotted down the escalator, lightly stepping around the other people on the moveable stairs.
Steve grabbed a cab and gave Christian’s address. He leaned back in the seat, guitar laying next to him, his hand resting atop it as if it was a prize winning show dog.
“Christian Maverick Kane, you have some serious explaining to do.”
~*~
Christian was mentally bashing his skull in with a sledge hammer as he stared at the TV, watching Toy Story 2 play on Pay Per View. The reason he paid for the show, was so Jordan would stop screaming,
She was curled up asleep in his lap.
“I cannot do this fatherhood thing! FUCK! I don’t know how to take care of a little girl! …But I can’t just give her back to Social Services, she’s already been abandoned once… GODDAMNIT! People like me shouldn’t be allowed to breed!”
“Daddy?” Jordan asked sleepily, looking up at him with half closed eyes.
Christian looked down at her and nibbled his inner lip.
“Tank you.” She said with a sweet smile, snuggling close to him. “Mommy wasa meanie.”
“Mommy was mean?” Christian parroted.
“She wouldn’ get wid of da dolls.” Jordan sniffled, holding onto him.
“Don’t little girls like dolls?” Chris pondered, awkwardly petting her hair.
“NO!” Jordan snapped instantly a pout marring her face.
Chris stared wide eyed down at her, “WHY WAS I ALLOWED TO BREED! I’ve literally created a monster! SOMEONE HELP!”
“A-alright… no dolls…” Chris said slowly.
“No dollies!” She agreed, giving him a firm nod.
“Help me!”
~*~
“Thank you, sir.” Steve said with a grin, paying what he owed the cab driver, grabbing his things, and climbing out of the car, looking up the short drive at the house that served as a home for Christian Kane.
The cab sped off behind him, leaving Steve in a cloud of exhaust, coughing and sputtering for breath.
“Save the fuckin’ trees, man.” He grumbled once he’d caught his breath, glaring down the road that the taxi had just sped down.
Steve took a slow breath and squared his shoulders off. He walked as confidently up to the house, wondering if he should knock or just walk in.
He decided on just walking in.
~*~
Christian jumped when he heard the lock click open to his front door. His face went whiter than Jordan’s when Steve stepped through, and Steve didn’t look too happy.
Steve closed the door firmly behind himself, looked up, and instantly started giggling.
There sat, the Great Christian Kane, with a little girl wrapped up in a blanket half asleep in his lap… with Toy Story 2 playing on the big screen TV usually used for NASCAR, video games, and football.
The little girl glared over at the chuckling man and wiggled out of her father’s arms, sliding down onto the floor and toddling over to Steve fast as she could go on her little legs.
“Not Funny!” She declared, kicking his shin.
“Ow!” Steve complained, taking a step back and looking down at her.
Christian could actually hear the click from all the way across the room when Steve put everything together.
“HOLY SHIT SHE’S YOURS?!”
“Dude, watch the language, she gets pissed when you don’t explain what it means.” Chris sighed, not meeting his eye as he pushed himself off the couch and picked up the still angry little girl. “And I thought I told you not to come back.”
The stabbing pain Steve had felt in his chest ever since Christian had yelled that at him the first time, only got worse.
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s my house, out, now.”
“Yeah! Meanie out!” Jordan agreed, sticking her tongue out at him.
Steve had no idea how exactly, but he found himself out on the back porch, his things still inside.
“A little kid is bossing me around… she is so Christian’s kid. Little brat.” He grumbled to himself, digging through his pockets for his cigarettes.
~*~
“”Mac n’ cheese!” Jordan demanded, now back in her own, recently cleaned clothing.
“I don’t have any.” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples.
“God… take pity and kill me already. I’m not good with children.”
“MAC ‘N CHEESE!”
Author: chelseaadd
Pairing: Steve/Chris
Warning: Swearing in this section.
Rating: I guess PG - 13... there's swearing
Summary: One spat can change everything forever. What will it take to fix a broken man?
Chris didn’t even bother trying to wash the sheets, he just threw them away. He didn’t want to put sheets that had been urinated on in his washer.
After Jordan’s little announcement, the first thing he’d done was attempt damage control on his bed. She thought it was hilarious when he struggled to flip the queen sized mattress all by himself.
You have no idea what a blow it is to your pride when a girl who isn’t even four yet, is laughing at you, while standing there in wet purple overalls.
After he’d flipped his mattress and thrown the sheets away, he took Jordan to the guest bathroom, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to give the little girl a bath.
That gave awkward a whole new meaning.
~*~
Steve closed his eyes and gripped the arm rests tightly, his knuckles turning white. He wasn’t sure which part was worse, the taking off or the landing. He did know, however, that he wasn’t looking forward to the landing in the not too distant future..
Ten minutes passed after take off before he was pulled out of his ‘Zen Zone’.
“Sir, would you like a set of headphones? Toy Story 2 is playing.” A flight attendant asked sweetly, smiling down at him.
“I’m a fucking grown man. Why the hell would I want to watch fucking Toy Story?! HELL NO!”
“No thank you, I think I’m just going to sleep.” He said with a small smile, forcing his hands to relax off the arm rests.
“Alright. Just yell if you need anything, alright?” She asked, beaming still.
“No.”
“Sure.” He replied with a smile.
“Not watching fucking Toy Story.”
~*~
“Toy Stories!” Jordan demanded from her spot on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan, wearing one of Christian’s shirts while he washed her clothes (using four times the recommended amount of soap).
“I don’t have Toy Stories.” Chris responded as calmly as he could, mentally banging his head against the wall.
“T-T-Toy S-stor-ies?” She hiccupped, her blue eyes welling up, her lower lip quivering.
“SOMEONE KILL ME NOW!”
“Jordan, please don’t cry.” He begged, trying to hide his frustration. He wasn’t exactly cut out to be a spur of the moment father.
“TOY STORIES!” She screamed, her too-pale face turning redder and redder the more she screamed.
“I don’t have it!”
Jordan bawled harder and threw herself on the floor, going into full on tantrum mode, kicking and pounding her fists on the floor.
“BABY KANE!”
“Jordan, that’s not going to work.” Chris said matter of factly.
~*~
“Christian better have a good fucking explanation for all of this.” Steve thought, waiting on his duffel and guitar.
The plane ride had taken forever in Steve time. The entire time, he got no sleep. He just stared mindlessly at the screen, watching Toy Story 2, without any audio.
Steve grabbed his heavily stickered guitar case and his duffel bag and trotted down the escalator, lightly stepping around the other people on the moveable stairs.
Steve grabbed a cab and gave Christian’s address. He leaned back in the seat, guitar laying next to him, his hand resting atop it as if it was a prize winning show dog.
“Christian Maverick Kane, you have some serious explaining to do.”
~*~
Christian was mentally bashing his skull in with a sledge hammer as he stared at the TV, watching Toy Story 2 play on Pay Per View. The reason he paid for the show, was so Jordan would stop screaming,
She was curled up asleep in his lap.
“I cannot do this fatherhood thing! FUCK! I don’t know how to take care of a little girl! …But I can’t just give her back to Social Services, she’s already been abandoned once… GODDAMNIT! People like me shouldn’t be allowed to breed!”
“Daddy?” Jordan asked sleepily, looking up at him with half closed eyes.
Christian looked down at her and nibbled his inner lip.
“Tank you.” She said with a sweet smile, snuggling close to him. “Mommy wasa meanie.”
“Mommy was mean?” Christian parroted.
“She wouldn’ get wid of da dolls.” Jordan sniffled, holding onto him.
“Don’t little girls like dolls?” Chris pondered, awkwardly petting her hair.
“NO!” Jordan snapped instantly a pout marring her face.
Chris stared wide eyed down at her, “WHY WAS I ALLOWED TO BREED! I’ve literally created a monster! SOMEONE HELP!”
“A-alright… no dolls…” Chris said slowly.
“No dollies!” She agreed, giving him a firm nod.
“Help me!”
~*~
“Thank you, sir.” Steve said with a grin, paying what he owed the cab driver, grabbing his things, and climbing out of the car, looking up the short drive at the house that served as a home for Christian Kane.
The cab sped off behind him, leaving Steve in a cloud of exhaust, coughing and sputtering for breath.
“Save the fuckin’ trees, man.” He grumbled once he’d caught his breath, glaring down the road that the taxi had just sped down.
Steve took a slow breath and squared his shoulders off. He walked as confidently up to the house, wondering if he should knock or just walk in.
He decided on just walking in.
~*~
Christian jumped when he heard the lock click open to his front door. His face went whiter than Jordan’s when Steve stepped through, and Steve didn’t look too happy.
Steve closed the door firmly behind himself, looked up, and instantly started giggling.
There sat, the Great Christian Kane, with a little girl wrapped up in a blanket half asleep in his lap… with Toy Story 2 playing on the big screen TV usually used for NASCAR, video games, and football.
The little girl glared over at the chuckling man and wiggled out of her father’s arms, sliding down onto the floor and toddling over to Steve fast as she could go on her little legs.
“Not Funny!” She declared, kicking his shin.
“Ow!” Steve complained, taking a step back and looking down at her.
Christian could actually hear the click from all the way across the room when Steve put everything together.
“HOLY SHIT SHE’S YOURS?!”
“Dude, watch the language, she gets pissed when you don’t explain what it means.” Chris sighed, not meeting his eye as he pushed himself off the couch and picked up the still angry little girl. “And I thought I told you not to come back.”
The stabbing pain Steve had felt in his chest ever since Christian had yelled that at him the first time, only got worse.
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s my house, out, now.”
“Yeah! Meanie out!” Jordan agreed, sticking her tongue out at him.
Steve had no idea how exactly, but he found himself out on the back porch, his things still inside.
“A little kid is bossing me around… she is so Christian’s kid. Little brat.” He grumbled to himself, digging through his pockets for his cigarettes.
~*~
“”Mac n’ cheese!” Jordan demanded, now back in her own, recently cleaned clothing.
“I don’t have any.” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples.
“God… take pity and kill me already. I’m not good with children.”
“MAC ‘N CHEESE!”