Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story. Nothing.
Notes: I wrote this and put it on Tumblr under a cut tag because it was so long. I decided it needed to go here too. The title doesn't have a whole heck of a lot to do with the story. It just happens to be the name of the song I used. If you all happened to read "Grass Stains and Leather" then that's great, and this is the same house where her motorcycle stays. If not, I've imagined a world where Jim moved out of the city after he got sober. He lives about an hour away.
He watched from the bay window as the headlights cut through the inky black of night on his street. They were so bright they were almost blue, and he had to look away when they turned into his driveway. The two occupants jumped out of the Audi, neither dressed for the chill in the December air, and ran up the path to the door. Her long legs were bare from the knee down thanks to the black athletic tights, save the running shoes she'd not even bothered to tie; her slender torso was shielded from the wintry air by an oversized burgundy button down, no doubt belonging to the main behind her, and a black fleece jacket that swung loosely as she moved. He was no better off with the gray t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and navy basketball shorts slung low on his hips; the jacket held limp in his grasp and one tied tennis shoe.
He opened the door for them and shook his head as they puffed out clouds of air in front of him. "She's sleeping, Katie. I told you she was fine."
"She was screaming, Daddy," Kate replied, brushing past him into the dim light and warm air of the foyer. She peeled the fleece off her shoulders and hung it on the hook before toeing off the shoes by the door. "You can't tell me she's fine when I can hear her in the background bawling and screaming for us." She huffed into her hands and scrubbed them together trying to take the chill off of her fingertips.
"You are your mother's daughter." Jim wrapped his arms around her and hugged tightly. "I can't count the number of times she came to bail you out of sleepovers when you were a child. The only place you would willingly spend the night was your grandmother's, and I think that was simply because she let you survive on candy and popsicles."
Rick chuckled behind them and hung his coat over hers and dropped his shoes off next to hers. "I think Meredith tried that tactic on Alexis, it never even crossed her mind that we had the only child in America who didn't love candy. I was a bad father and capitalized on that. I would use her adorable dimples and love of dress up to score candy for myself on Halloween."
"Katie wasn't allowed to carry her own candy bag after the age of five. We got home that year and the bag was full of wrappers. How long were you sick?"
"Days," she grinned, pulling away from him to move into the living room. "It was the best Halloween ever."
"How do you not hate candy after that, Kate?" Rick asked, trailing along behind her father.
"I did until Easter."
"Hardly," Jim laughed, sinking into his recliner. "You had completely forgotten about it by Christmas. You just didn't get enough candy to gorge yourself on to notice."
"Another plausible explanation," Rick teased, sitting in the far corner of the couch.
Kate pulled her knees up to her chest after she curled into Rick's side and then looked over at her father. "So, she's really okay?"
"If you had called to check on her five minutes later you never would've known. She was overtired, because we had too much fun at the museum today. I tried to tell you that, but all you let me get out before you hung up on me was about you not needing to drive all the way out here," he mock-scolded.
"I'm the overreacting parent aren't I?" she sighed and picked at the slight fraying in the hem of her leggings.
"You are your mother's daughter," he repeated, "in every way. She's upstairs in your room." He regarded her for a while with a slight smile and distant cloud in his eyes. "Now," he cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm old and going to bed. Lock up." Jim dropped a kiss on her head and clapped Rick on the shoulder as he passed them on his way to the stairs.
"You're not the overreacting parent," he whispered, tugging her back against his chest and burying his face in the place where her shoulder met her neck. "The overreacting parent wouldn't have noticed how quiet the house was. She would've just barged in and ran up the stairs. She wouldn't have let me get the car into park before she jumped out."
"She wouldn't have stopped long enough to put real clothes on?"
"That too," he grinned, pressing a soft kiss to the spot behind her ear.
Kate shifted backwards into his lap and twisted around until she was facing him. "I'm not a crazy mom?"
"No, Kate, you are not a crazy mom. You're an extraordinary mother," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers and linking his fingers behind her neck; letting his thumbs stroke slow paths along her cheeks. "You always know just what she needs and when she needs us. You two have this scary bond. She knows when you are crying, and you're up and out of the bed going after her before she ever makes a peep after a nightmare. I'm kind of jealous really. I used to think your silent conversations skill was only for me.
"You are a good mom, Kate, I promise. Don't get me started on how amazing you are with Alexis either. She's a different girl now that you are in her life. You give her that tough love I was never any good at and she's finally letting her hair down and acting her age. It's a beautiful thing, watching your child feel comfortable enough to make a mistake, to take a risk, to step out of her comfort zone." He pulled her face up and kissed her soundly. "Don't doubt your self Momma bear. Never doubt yourself."
"I'm kind of jealous of that," she murmured, slipping her hands around his back and tangling her fingers in the material of his shirt, "You always know just what to say."
"Must be the writer in me."
She grinned and tucked her head under his chin. "Must be."
Rick scanned the room and let his gaze land on the moonlit view out the windows in the back of the house. "It's beautiful out here. When did your dad move?" he asked as he allowed his hands to slide away from her face and blaze twin trails up and down the length of her back.
"After rehab. It was so weird at first. Seeing my room in another home. Seeing all of our stuff along different walls, but it was something he needed. It ended up being good for both of us. Our new normal, you know? I could come over and curl up on the couch just like I used to do with Mom, but I could breath. She wasn't everywhere here like she was in the city."
"This couch?"
"This couch. I think it was my freshman year when they got it. We would sit here and watch 'Temptation Lane' or she would hold me while I cried my eyes out over some boy. This is the couch they dumped me on when I came home drunk my senior year. This is the couch I..." She paused and shook her head. "No, that story is inappropriate for this conversation. This couch, the dishes in the kitchen, the bed Ella is sleeping in... it's all from the apartment."
"You got to keep all he good memories and let go of the rest. I get that, I really do." He stopped rubbing her back and found her gaze again. With a mischievous grin he spoke, "Now, this inappropriate story, you have to tell me. You know better than to dangle that in front of me."
"You mean you really want me to tell you that we're sitting on the couch I lost my virginity on? That the weekend before my junior prom I played hooky and snuck my grunge rocker boyfriend over to smoke pot with me on the balcony? That instead of getting the munchies we both found ourselves incredibly horny and that the couch was as far as we could make it? Do you really want me to tell you that story?" Her voice carried just enough of a teasing edge and her eyes were sparking with just enough humor that he wasn't exactly sure what to believe out of the story.
"Smart ass."
"I hate it, you know," she offered, focusing on the wall behind them.
"Hate what?" He tangled his fingers in her hair and hugged her close.
"That I was stoned out of my mind the first time I had sex? That it's a hazy memory of a giggle fit with a penis and a vagina and fumbling helplessly with a condom?" She snorted and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. "That he bit me so hard I didn't think the hickey was ever going to go away? I hate how it happened, I hate why it happened, and I hate who it happened with. Two things resulted from that disastrous adventure in sex: I never smoked another joint and I didn't sleep with anyone else until I was in the academy."
"Kate," he breathed, hugging her tighter still, "I had no idea."
"I wish I had just waited for you. It's always perfect with you." She released his shirt and wrapped her arms tighter around his sides, pulling herself in as close as she could get.
"I don't think my first time was much better. I also don't think Mother would approve of how pedestrian it was. I'd been seeing this girl for a while, and the furthest we'd ever gone was first base. It was like we were stuck in the fifties or something. We held hands and that was pretty much it. At least I thought so. I found out after she dumped me, which she waited to do until after she had her clothes back on, that I was the boyfriend she took home to mother. The other boyfriend she used for hot monkey sex. Kate, I swear to you the words that came out of her mouth were: You're a horrible fuck.
"Excuse me for not knowing what to do my first time out of the gate!" he groused quietly. "It wasn't long after that I got shipped off to boarding school. She hurt me like he hurt you though. I was put off on the thought of sex for a while. Then I thought I fell in love."
"Kyra."
"Yeah, Kyra."
"I like her. She was nice. I was jealous then, but looking back I can say I like her." She leaned back and linked her arms around his neck. "I especially liked her after she told me you were all mine."
Rick grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "Sounds exactly like something she would say."
"I hate it when you do that. It makes my nose itch," she grumbled, loosing one arm from around his neck and using the freed hand to cover her nose up.
"You're beautiful." He cupped her cheek and stretched his other arm across the back of the couch.
"There you go with those perfect words again," she said, sliding back onto the couch and throwing her legs across his lap. She pulled her face from his grasp and rested her head against the forearm behind her. "Are you gonna kiss me or what?"
Her perfectly predatory smile was in place and the added eyebrow quirk were all the invitation he needed. Rick shifted toward her and captured her lips in a lingering kiss. He wasn't seeking to deepen it and and neither was she, though she occasionally nipped at his bottom lip. His hands were even behaving; one in her hair and the other tracing lazy circles on her thigh. Hers were fisted loosely in his shirt holding them both in place. They were content to sit there and share their slow, sweet kisses for the time being.
"Woah, sorry. Sorry. Sorry." Jim slammed his palm up over his eyes and halted in his tracks on the bottom stair. "I was just coming down for a glass of water. Sorry. Sorry."
She pressed her face into the crook of Rick's elbow and let the red creep up her face. He simply tried to look anywhere but at Kate or her father. Finally, Jim ventured into the room and shuffled quickly past them, skirting around the far the side of the coffee table. Kate couldn't contain herself and burst into laughter. It was a free laugh, an infectious laugh, and it was one of Rick's favorite sounds.
They sobered when Jim re-entered the room with his glass of water. The three were locked in an awkward stand off. No one could talk. No one could blink. No one could move. Jim slowly edged his way back across the room, turning his back on them as he passed. Everyone exhaled when he finally eased his way up the stairs.
"Your Dad just caught us making out."
"That was not us making out and you know it. He caught us kissing. Big difference. Huge difference. He wouldn't have survived us making out."
His face paled as he remembered what happens when they make out; skin gets exposed, clothing gets removed, hands travel... He gulped, "You're right."
"Why was it so weird? We've kissed in front of him before. Hell, there was more tongue at the wedding," she sighed and turned her face up to meet his eyes.
"You."
"Me?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"Should dance with me."
"Now?"
"Yes, Kate, now. Come on," he insisted, standing up and dragging her up to her feet.
"Rick..." She pulled back on him as he easily moved her across the room to her father's stereo.
"Shhh," he whispered, pressing a finger against her lips. A decision he quickly found himself regretting; she bit him. "Ow. Mean."
"Then don't tell me to hush," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You're cute when you're mad." He paused. "Scratch that, you're cute all the time."
"You're pushing your luck, mister." She softened and stepped closer to him. "Are we going to dance or what?"
"Motherhood has made you mushy," he teased, wrapping his left arm tightly around her and drawing her closer. With his right, he reached behind and himself and flipped the stereo on; turning the volume down low. They swayed together slowly as the song faded out and another began.
I love everything about you
I love the way you comb your hair
And I love the way you sachet in the room
Your perfume lingers in the air
I love everything about you
Whoa, about you
Mmm-mmm
"I swear I didn't plan this."
"I'm sure," she teased, nuzzling into his chest.
I love the way you lick your lips, dear
You got fireworks in your head
And I love the way you bring me water
When I'm thirsty in your bed
I love everything about you
Whoa, about you
Mmm-mmm
Kate snorted and wound her arms around his middle.
"I prefer your lip biting."
You were surely kissed by angels
Look at the freckles on your face
You got the devil in your eyes
You disappear without a trace
"I don't have any freckles, Rick."
"Overrated," he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to the tiny beauty mark below her left eye. "Definitely seen the devil before though."
I love sneaking up behind you
When you're looking in the mirror
The way your eyes lock in to mine, dear
Without guilt and without fear
I love everything about you
Whoa, about you
Mmm-mmm
"You can't sneak."
Rick grinned and leaned down to kiss her. "Quit focusing on the details."
"Detective. It's in my nature."
"My story. Your logic."
"Ruining it, I know."
"Mommy?" Ella stood on the third step, teddy bear dragging on the stairs behind her. She scrubbed at her eyes and yawned.
"Hey, baby girl," Kate smiled brightly and untangled herself from Rick to go to the little girl.
"We home?" Ella asked, yawning as Kate picked her up and snuggled her close.
"No, we're at Péré's," Kate answered, carrying the sleepy three-year-old over towards Rick.
"Why?"
"We missed you. Mommy and I couldn't sleep without you."
"Oh." Ella yawned again and let her head fall heavily onto Kate's shoulder. "Love Ella?" she murmured, tangling the fingers of her free hand in her mother's hair.
"Love Ella," he responded, reaching out to pull both girls into a hug.
"Love Ella," Kate repeated. "Let's get you back to bed, Peanut."
"Nnn," she whined, "no peanut. 'llergic."
Rick grinned, "Yeah, you're allergic, and Mommy is right, it's bedtime."
"Snuggles?" The tiniest of lisps accented the question.
"We'll stay for snuggles. Let Daddy have your bear." She waited while Rick pried the animal from the child's grasp and then turned to him. "I want to do this again."
"Dance with me in your father's living room?"
"Well, yeah, but before that. A baby."