I'm back on my actual account :D which makes me happy. This is a one shot sort of inspired by Tuesdays episode - although it may decide to continue it. I'm not really sure yet. Hopefully it's ok and thank you to anyone who reads / reviews.
He was standing in the school playground, his eyes trained on the door through which – at any moment – the tiny powerhouse that was his daughter would dash through before flinging herself in to his arms. He loved the days when she was able to collect her from school, to listen to tales of her day and to feel the way she nestled against him, tired from the adventures she'd had. He knew that soon she would be too big to carry around as much, that he would have to get used to her walking alongside him, a sign that she was growing up but for now he liked to hold her in the moments when she allowed it.
He could hear the gossip from some of the mothers. There were rumours that Lucy's mum – though he wasn't sure who Lucy or her mother were – was pregnant although it seemed not be her husband. By all accounts it appeared the father was a teacher, teaching aid or someone who ran one of the afterschool clubs that Lucy attended. He wasn't sure why he was listening really. He wasn't one for gossip – and besides he was certain that his own situation was probably under scrutiny by these women.
He smiled as the door opened, and he watched as the children ran free from the confines of the classroom. He knew that reception class still involved a lot of play for the youngsters but even so they always seemed to be happy to be let loose once again. He spotted his daughter instantly. The ribbons that held her pigtails in place had started to become unravelled, and it looked like she had paint of her face but she was grinning broadly.
"Hello Munchkin" He exclaimed as she swept her up in to the air and he felt her arms come around his neck as she placed a kiss on his cheek. She giggled and she pulled back a little in order to see his face as he started to carry her from the playground.
"We going to see mama?" She asked in her sweet voice, giving him a small hopeful smile. He tried not to frown at her question, every day she would ask him the same question and he hated that he always seemed to give her the same answer, the one she didn't want.
"You know Mum's working" he answered, though he knew what his daughter's usual argument was. That mum wouldn't mind them going in for a visit, so that she could see her mum's colleagues; the people she considered to be aunts and uncles. "I do have a surprise for you though" he tried to change the subject and it worked because he saw the way his daughter's eyes lit up at the idea.
"Is it a puppy?!" She exclaimed, almost bouncing in his arms causing him to grip her that little bit tighter to prevent her from slipping. He frowned a little at that.
"You know your mum wouldn't be very happy if I got you a dog" he answered, softly. He had forgotten that his little girl had spent the last few months absolutely begging for a dog of her own. Her Christmas list had consisted of a dog – with specifics relating to breed, colour and gender and then a list of pretty much everything she felt her dog would need. All written in bright colours in difficult to read scrawl.
"It could live at your house" was her almost instantaneous response and he wondered how much thought she had actually given this. She was looking at him with the most hopeful expression, that reminded him very much of a puppy begging for a home. It was an expression he was sure she had learned from him.
"Y'know my flat isn't big enough for a dog" he told her gently and he watched as her face fell "and I work so it would be on his own for much too long" she nodded as he said that, it was words very similar to the ones her mum has used.
"A kitten then, that's much smaller" she reasoned, her smile returning to her face. He wanted to smile, but he knew that would give her false hope. In some ways it had once been a dream, the idea of the house, the dog and the child but now that dream seemed to slip a little bit further away every day.
"It's not a kitten" he told her and he watched as she raised an eyebrow, one of her mother's traits. It was one of those looks that made him think he was looking in to the face of a miniature Jac Naylor.
"So it's not a kitten now, but you didn't say we couldn't" he sometimes wondered if his daughter was destined for a career in negotiation. Already she seemed to be a pro at picking out what she thought was important and being able to manipulate that for her own gain. He would have laughed in amusement but he knew she would give him the sad eyes, and accuse him of laughing at her, which would only make him laugh all the more.
"Cay, you know I can have any animals for now" He told her and she frowned. She wriggled in his arms and he knew she wanted to put down, that she would walk the rest of the way to his car. It was something he thought had come from her mother, that she would push away when she didn't quite get what she wanted. But he knew it wasn't quite that simple. Jac pushed people away to protect herself, because of her stupid fears.
"What if you lived with me and mummy, would I be allowed then?" She had stopped and turned to him, she seemed so much older as she stood there looking at him, and it shocked him for a moment. He wished it wasn't a standard statement for his daughter to make, to imply that things would be better, would work in her favour if her parents lived together. He hated that he couldn't tell her, how much he wanted it but how they had tried it when she was a baby and how it hadn't worked out because of some stupid mistake; badly chosen words and the shattering of the tenuous relationship that have started to bud.
"Sweetheart, you know it isn't that" he told her and he gently took hold of her hand in his and started to guide her towards his car, "now you ready for your surprise?" he asked her as they approached the car, but she had already twigged and had broken free of his grasp and dashed towards the passenger door.
"AUNTIE MO!" It always impressed him how many syllables his daughter managed to stretch the name Mo in too. He watched as the door opened and his friend was pummelled by his daughter managing a fairly impressive leap in to the car and on to her lap. He knew his daughter often saw Mo in passing in the hospital, but it had been a while since their shifts had allowed for them to spend some proper quality time together.
"Haven't you gotten big Miss Maconie" Mo grinned as she looked at the child; "you must be almost as tall as Mr Hanssen now" the little girl giggled as she thought of the giant of a man who she saw around the hospital. When she had been much smaller he had been really scary but now she knew he wasn't really that scary at all. She liked the sound of his voice because it made her smile.
"You're silly" the little girl informed her with a wide smile. Before she climbed off, her 'aunties' knee and waited for her daddy to help her in to her car seat in the back. She gave him a small smile, though he could see that she still wasn't completely happy with him.
The drive to his flat was uneventful, with the little girl informing them of what she had gotten up to in school that day. She managed to account for the paint that had ended up on her face, and she told them how her teacher had taken them on a bear hunt – which apparently was one of the bestest games she had played in her whole life; an expression that once again made her sound a lot older than she was though this time it brought a smile to her dad's lips.
"Tell me a story auntie Mo" the child commanded once they were settled on the sofa together "Can you tell me more of the fairy story please?" Mo smiled at the request. It was a fairy story, she had started before the child's arrival in to the world and one which had been continuing for the youngsters amusement though she was still waiting to arrive at the happily ever after. She had found her own, she still had her best friend and, for the most part, their traditions remained in place. But his happily ever after had come to be, and nor did it seem had it happened for the little princess.
"You know the deal Jonny Mac" Mo said smiling at him, and he frowned in response. He wasn't privy to the fairy-tale that his daughter loved so much. It was a special secret between the two of them, though he had tried to ask them both what it was about. His daughter had once told him it was a Holby fairy-tale and that Mr Hanssen was a giant but that seemed to be the most he was allowed to know.
"I guess I'll be going out to get your tea then little Miss" He said, not bothering to remove his jacket and it seemed he would be heading straight back out the door. It had been his plan that they would come back and his little girl would change out of her uniform and that they would head out to the park before going on to supermarket but it seemed that story time with Mo was a better prospect.
"You mean I don't have to go shopping?" He saw the delight in his daughter's eyes at the idea of it. She had a real dislike of food shopping and was usually a right grumpy mare from the moment they pulled in to the car park until the moment he pulled out of it having finished the shop. He'd hoped that having Mo with them would have prevented this.
"It means you don't have to go shopping" he confirmed and she whooped. It saddened him a little that he would lose out on time with her, but he knew she would be happy to spend time with Mo; and that Mo would enjoy time with her goddaughter. "I'll see you two in a bit" he said as he slipped out of the door.
"So Miss Michaela, where did we get too?" Mo asked, once she'd heard the door click shut. She knew it was silly keeping the story a secret but it was something that had just happened and now it was a hard habit to break. Besides it seemed to entertain the little one, having this secret story that was just hers.
"The witch – who wasn't really a bad witch – was trapped in a castle surrounded by big er" the child paused not quite remembering the words that her godmother had used to describe what was surrounding the castle. Mo smiled.
"Barriers, the castle was surrounded by big barriers; that's right isn't it?" she asked and Michaela nodded her head and smiled.
"And the funny prince was trying to rescue her" she smiled, she liked the story. She wanted the prince to rescue the witch. It was a funny story because in most stories the witch was bad and trying to keep the princess away from the prince and the prince was trying to rescue the princess from the witch who was evil. But in this story the witch wasn't really evil – but she was magic and she had hair made of fire.
"I think you've forgotten something" Mo said with a grin. She wasn't sure how much Michaela realised about the story. She knew the giant was Hanssen and she sort of knew that the fairy godmother was Mo – though little Mic still claimed that was her idea because Mo was her real life godmother.
"and there's the little princess – who both the witch and the prince love and who is the only one allowed in and out of the castle because of the spell" Michaela finished with a grin. She liked the little princess best of all – because the little princess was just like her. Princess Michaela Rose Naylor-Maconie. Only she wasn't the princess in the story.
"Right, so the funny Scottish prince is trying to get in to castle and it's really difficult because there's a spell on the castle that means it's surrounded by some real tall, really hard barriers that the prince has to break down" Mo frowned a little, thinking about it. She'd underestimated just how difficult some barriers were to break and she knew the prince was struggling and tiring under the strain. "And the witch is scared, because sometimes when he starts to break the barriers a little it's a bit frightening and because of the magic they rebuild themselves"
"Why?" Michaela asked, with a small frown on her lips. She wanted the prince to win but every time she thought it was going to happen, something always went wrong. There had been the wicked dragon that had tried to block the prince from the castle – she had imagined the dragon looked a little like mummy's then boyfriend but Mo had said no the dragon didn't look like that.
"Well the witch's mum put a spell on her when she was really little, and that spell meant that the big barriers keep building up round the castle but the prince thinks he can break the spell and do you know why?" Mo asked, and she gently tickled under her goddaughter's chin causing her to giggle a little before she looked serious once again.
"Because the prince loves the witch" it was stated with such conviction that Mo couldn't help but grin. "And the witch loves the prince?" the child asked, tilting her head a little to the side. Mo felt the grin slip from her lips as she considered the question.
"She does but magic spell means that sometimes she forgets" Mo answered, with a sigh. The child didn't look convinced by this.
"Why?" she asked and Mo felt her frown deepen. She had forgotten her goddaughter's love of that word. The way she could question you for what seemed like hours on even the smallest thing. It meant that the fairy tale was usually only told in short bursts, because there were too many things to be questioned.
"Well because there's a spell on her too, like the one that makes Sleeping Beauty sleep only for the witch she forgets that she can love" the child twisted her lips as if she was considering this. The fairy story seemed to be getting a little bit too complicated now, and Mo wished she had stuck to Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast. Stories where the happy ending was pre-written.
"What about the little Princess?" it was an innocent question but it struck Mo hard, she hadn't considered it and she was surprised that Michaela had. She frowned as she tried to come up with an answer.
"The princess had a special magic" she answered finally having thought about how she would go about this "because she had the princes love too; the spell didn't affect her so in order to save the witch from the spell the little Princess and the Prince will work together" it seemed like the only way she could answer, but made sense to her. It was what she had hoped would happen.
The door clicked open and Jonny strolled back in and Mo couldn't help but feel relieved. She smiled up at her friend, and he could see the strain in her face. He hoped that his daughter hadn't been naughty though it seemed to him neither had moved much from when he had left them.
"Well Miss, I guess we'd best get you fed and watered; otherwise your mummy will say I didn't look after you properly" he said gently as he wandered in to his kitchen area with a shopping bag on his arm.
An hour later and his daughter was curled up on his sofa, looking tired and he was preparing to settle next to her; determined to spend some quality time together before her mum would arrive and pick her up on the sofa and carry her away. He looked at his collection of Disney DVDs, a collection he had been building for her since before she was born. He scanned down the list, wondering which one to put on for them to watch together. It was one of their little traditions when they had a Friday together.
"How about Finding Nemo?" he asked, starting to ease the DVD from where it stood in line. He turned to look at his daughter, who yawned a little bit and gave him a small smile.
"I'm too tired now Daddy, you go find Nemo" she whispered softly, her eyes closing a little. He smiled, amused by her comment. He left the DVD and walked over to sofa and sat down next to her. She settled herself against him, resting her head against his chest. While he gently stroked her cheeks as he had done when she was a baby.
"How about no Nemo then?" He said, thinking that perhaps she had already fallen asleep against him. He heard a gently sighing and then she pulled herself away from him and looked at him with eyes so like her mothers.
"But then he'll stay lost daddy" She told him gently, and Jonny smiled.
"We'll find him another day" he answered and she paused for a moment, thinking about it.
"Are you strong daddy?" she asks, as she settles herself back down against him. She knows he's strong enough to carry her around, but she is still quite little and sometimes he does seem to struggle a little bit.
"That's a strange question Cay-girl" he answers though "I think I am" he adds. He thinks about the answer the girl's mum would give. She would probably say he is weak, because he has emotions but she forgets he has seen hers; albeit briefly.
"Are you ever going to do it daddy?" she asks, her eyes closing a little against him though she fights against sleep. She feels his fingers gently stroking her cheek.
"Can I do what?" he answers her question with a question because he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand where Michaela is going with this question.
"Do I get a happy ending daddy?" she asks, slipping more now in to sleep and Jonny feels a prickling in his eyes.
"Of course you do sweetheart, your my little princess" he answers, his fingers still running over the smooth skin of her cheek, he can feel the spot where the paint had been, the paint that he washed away. It was all he wanted for her to be happy.
"So the prince will rescue the witch from the barriers?" she questions, she is so close to sleep now that it is a fight even to get the words out. "And they'll all live happily ever after" she smiles at the thought.
"Oh sweetheart, that's just a story" he tells her though he feels the lump in her throat.
"It isn't Daddy, it's my story" she tells him, her words soft and her tone sleepy. He feels the lump grow bigger as he realises the story that Mo has been telling his child, the story of them. He wonders what ending Mo wants, the one she is leading too. He hates that it has given his daughter false hope and yet he knows the same hope lives within his heart. He leans down and gently places a kiss on the side of her head. She has fallen asleep and now he cannot answer her, he cannot correct her though he knows that wouldn't be able to do any one. He doesn't have the words to break her heart, because they will break his as well. He tries to push away the lump in his throat as he cradles his baby against his body.
He sits there with her against him, thinking of her words. Trying to imagine the storybook world in her head where he is a prince rescuing a witch – the girl's mother. But she hadn't said witch like it was a bad thing and he wondered, how Mo had justified using that title. And he thought of the barriers from which he had to rescue her. His daughter saw them as physical barricades around her mother's body but he knew differently. The barriers were invisible, and inside of her and that made them all the harder to fight again. He is tired of the fight, which he has been fighting for 5 years since he met the woman with whom he fathered this beautiful girl. It is a battle he fears he will never win, and yet one he cannot seem to give up on – because he knows he loves her and even if he did there was Michaela. His beautiful Michaela Rose – who without the 'witch' he wouldn't have, but he wants them both. He wants them to be together, in one house; a family. He wants the happy ending that his daughter craves but he cannot see the way there. He doesn't know how to continue the story; he only knows the ending he wants to reach, the ending she is owed for this after all is a fairy story and those can only end in one way. This story has a beginning and a planned end – but he knows he needs to fill in the middle. He needs to find out how to fight the curse or spell – because isn't that always the cause in these stories – to be able to rescue the one he loves; in order to write the happily ever after.
He hears a wrapping at the door, its one he recognises as hers. And slowly he moves his daughter's body so that she is laid across his sofa sleeping. He smiles down at her before he walks towards the door, he sees her standing there. Her hair is still stuffed in a bun and he knows she has come straight from work. He gives her a small smile which she doesn't return; instead she pushes in to the flat and sees their daughter asleep, a sight which does bring a smile to her face.
"I'd best be getting Michaela home to bed" she says softly, stepping towards her daughter and leaning down to look at the sweetly sleeping face. So many people tell her that the child is the spitting image of her, but she sees mainly the girl's father and only a few traces of herself – which she deems is probably for the best.
"She's so settled, maybe you could stay for a drink or something?" the words sound a little awkward, but he says them all the same. It saddens him how their relationship has changed, how on the ward they are professional and courteous and how in the outside world they only really speak of their daughter. She turns and looks at him, and he sees how tired she is looking.
"I just want to get home to bed" she answers him, though she cannot help but feel there is something tempting in his offer. To talk to him properly for the first time in, she doesn't know how long. It pains her to admit she has missed him. It's strange to miss someone you see most days.
"You could stay here?" He says it as a question "Cay's asleep, and she has her bed here and you can sleep in my bed and I'll have the sofa. And then tomorrow we could have a day just the three of us – maybe take Cay to the park or the zoo or something" he speaks in a rush, unsure of where this has come from. She blinks rapidly as if she cannot quite understand him.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea Jonny" she speaks so quietly, her words not quite convincing. His offer is so tempting but she doesn't want to get hurt again. She can't afford for Michaela to get hurt, for her hopes to be built and dashed. She can't let it happen again because last time it had been only her and it had nearly destroyed her. But she cannot deny that she wants it.
"She deserves to see us together occasionally, properly. Just to prove we can do it that she has two parents who came work together, not just a mum in one house and a dad in another who are two entirely separate entities" she closes her eyes for a second as he speaks, "we can be friends, Jac, for a few hours for our daughter. It'll make her happy" he doesn't add that it'll make him happy too though it saddens him that he puts a time limit on how long they can be friends.
"She'll want more" but it isn't just Michaela who'll want more. She knows that she will, and that he will as well. That time spent together will make the longing more pronounced and harder to ignore and she isn't sure she can cope with that.
"We can give it a try, for Michaela. Jac, she needs us to be able to do this" He kneels down so that he is level with her "We always said we'd work together to raise her even if we weren't actually together but look at us. This isn't what we wanted, and it isn't what she deserved" he sees a tear slip from her eye and that confuses him for a moment.
"I'm sorry" she says the words so quietly that he can barely hear them, though he isn't totally sure if they are meant for him, or their daughter. "I'm just, everything, I only want what's best for her"
"And you think I don't?" he asks, he doesn't want to provoke an argument and he can see she is close to cracking. She swallows hard.
"We're making such a mess of this" she looks over at their sleeping daughter. She is totally unaware of so much. Of the circumstances surrounding her conception and birth; of how she'd been viewed as her mother's miracle.
"She's turning out pretty good though" He grins, thinking of their bright beautiful daughter.
"What is we mess her up?" It's her biggest fear. Though one she can't remember admitting to him before, and she wonders why she is now. She has spent so long pretending that everything is good and fine so that he wouldn't see the truth.
"She doesn't seem messed up" He looks at the sleeping face, but he knows that there is still time. She is still so young.
"Not yet she isn't" she yawns a little as she speaks, and she feels a little embarrassed for doing so.
"And she won't be" he tells her "Look, we'll settle our daughter in her bed here, and tomorrow she'll wake up and see us both – and we'll spend the day together and we will take it from there – one day Jac – for Michaela, for us" he is almost pleading and she is so very tired, that she almost wonders if it would be safer to sleep here.
"And you'll be sleeping on the sofa?" she asks a little timidly. He gives her a smile.
"Of course, I will be" though there is a part of him that wishes he would be sleeping alongside her, his arms wrapped around her sleeping form and waking up with her in the morning. But he knew they would be taking it slow, a single step at a time.
"Ok" she says it softly, not quite sure that it's the right thing to do but it's for her daughter, and as he said its one day and if it leads to another day then they can take it as it comes. She gestures towards their daughter, "She really should be in her bed" and he nods. He stands and moves around Jac, sweeping their daughter gently in to his arms and carrying her in to the bed, the girl's mother a few steps behind. He places his lips near to his daughter's ear and whispers gently;
"It was a long battle, but slowly they made their way to their happily ever after"
