A/N: This story is from the POV of Mr. Dr. P. I haven't seen many Drs. Possible fics out there, and again inspiration struck me while listening to Garth Brooks. Yeah, I know you don't want to read any song fics, and that's why this isn't a song fic. It's a dialogue between father and daughter, with a behind the scenes look at the parental figures' past.
In case you were wondering, the song that inspired this is Ain't Going Down 'till the Sun Comes Up...
I was sitting in the living room reading the paper, sports were on the television for noise but I really wasn't watching when I heard a melodic voice call me, "Daddy?"
Folding the Middleton Gazette I looked up and met my daughters questioning green eyes, I quirked an eyebrow and answered, "Yes? Something I can help you with?" I'm not the most empathic person in the world, circuits and thermodynamics make more sense than the intricacies of female emotions, but living with such an understanding woman for all these years has allowed me to pick up on when something is bothering one of the ladies in the house.
"I know this is a little weird, but what did you and Mom do when you were younger? For dates I mean," I bristled at the direction this conversation was heading, "And don't tell me to go talk to Mom, she told me I had to ask you." I made a mental note to repay my wife's kindness later.
"What do you want to know?" There were some things about the past that I wasn't about to talk about with my daughter, so instead of opening any cans of worms I figured I'd just answer her questions without giving any more information than I had to.
"Well, Ron and I just started dating for real last year. It's weird, but things haven't changed that much, Friday has always been Ron night for me. But, I wanted to know what you did, how things are different." The first thought that crossed my mind was they had better be different now than when we were her age. Apparently sensing my hesitation she prompted me with a more specific direction, "How did your Fridays with Mom usually start?"
"Well, we both grew up on a farm. Your mother lived a few miles away from where Uncle Slim lives now, he got the house when my dad passed away and Nana moved to Florida. So after our chores were done, I'd call her house ahead of time, to properly ask her out for the evening."
We hurried through our chores faster than we probably should have then I'd jump in that old pick-up Slim had helped me rebuild, man that old girl could run. I know Anne could hear me coming from a mile and a half away, the rubber was squealing on the county blacktop, the engine roaring, and the radio near deafening.
"Did you get along with her parents like you guys do with Ron? I never really got a chance to know them before they passed away." Her curiosity was going to be the death of me, and I knew it.
"Absolutely," I lied again, we hardly spoke until about a year after the wedding, after we told them about Anne being pregnant with Kim, "Whenever I was going to pick her up, I'd go inside and have a glass of sweet tea or your mother's mother's homemade lemonade while your mother prettied herself up for a nice quiet evening."
Anne would come flying out the door as I slid into the driveway, yelling she'd be home later before diving into the passenger seat and telling me to floor it (which I had no problem doing). Her mom would be on the porch yelling at her to "get her red head back in bed before the morning", as her dad started digging behind the seat of his own pick-up. I'll never know what he was looking for, we were gone like roaches in light before he found whatever 'it' was.
"So, where did you two lovebirds go on your dates? Come on Dad, your not making this easy, I want to know about you and Mom when you were my age." I could almost see the scheming behind her eyes, she wanted to have me slip up and tell her that we did something not quite proper so she can hold it over us the next time she does something we don't like. That's my girl, too smart for her own good.
Realizing I could answer this one honestly, I smiled, "One of my favorite dates was when I took her to the rodeo. Uncle Slim was riding Saddle Bronc and Bareback that night," Not that my mom or dad knew, they would have tanned his hide, "so I, being the supportive brother that I am, took Anne with me. The rodeo was one of the few unofficial 'date' events that happened out there."
"Just a rodeo? You took mom to watch a bunch of other guys, in tight fitting jeans, with muscular builds, spray testosterone all over a muddy arena? And that was one of the 'big dating' things?" The disbelief was quite evident.
"Well, there was a street dance afterwards." Seeing her face brighten, I quickly added, "Where there was no slow music played, and we never got closer than 6 inches. Line dancing isn't like that stuff you call dancing now."
There was a dance, at the local watering hole. But it didn't take us long to get tired of the line dancing, and I was really tired of the drunk cowboys hitting on Anne… with me RIGHT THERE. So we jumped back in the pick-up and drove out to the creek on the back 40. That's when we danced a good portion of the night away, the moon light and the bottle of wine I'd talked Slim into buying for me at the little liquor store on the other side of the county line just set the mood.
"So, you guys went to a rodeo, surrounded by people, then went to the dance after the rodeo, also surrounded by people? When did you two get any time alone? I mean, you and Mom aren't the type of people to do anything more than hold hands in public, when did you guys get a chance to kiss and… stuff." I didn't like this conversation to start with, and I really didn't like where it was going now.
"Stuff?" The raised eyebrow and semi-threatening glance towards the back door where Ron usually makes his entrance caused her to blush, "I'll let it slide this time, but don't let me even catch wind of you and Ronald doing anything more than holding hands, and the occasional kiss on the cheek." I could see her about to protest so I kept up my charade, "That's all your mother and I ever did, until after we were married." I pride myself in being calm and controlled in almost any situation, but panic hit me like a kick from Slim's first mechanical horse when my little Kimmie-cub's face lit up, "And you are too young to even consider marriage." I knew it was hypocritical of me to say that, especially considering she's the same age Anne and I were when we got married, but that was not the point.
Like I said, the dancing, the moonlight, and the wine had really set the mood. Anne had been teasing me all night, rubbing her leg against mine, 'accidentally' backing against me in line at the popcorn stand and subtly grinding her wonderful posterior into me. Well, it all built up to an explosive night. The last time I'd looked at the clock, it was midnight and our lips were near inseparable. It wasn't until about 3 when we were both sated, and could focus enough to see the time again. Her whisper in my ear, "You might want to get the suspension on this old pick-up checked out before tomorrow night," forced the little coherency I had gained to slip away for another hour of exploring her well toned body again and again.
I was brought out of my reverie by yet another question I knew I'd have to lie to, "So when did you get her home? I'm sure you had a curfew, I know sundials don't work at night, but surely you had some way to tell the time."
I knew she was trying to get a rise out of me by making fun of my age to distract me in hopes I'd slip up, but no such luck for her, "She was home by one that night." Well, we were both on our way around the bases to home.
I remember regaining coherency around 4 and telling my future wife we had to get going… Anne was insatiable, she still is, and didn't want to get up yet. I managed to get her home around the time the rooster was crowing, I'm still not sure whether the rooster was supposed to crow at 5 a.m. or whether we woke him up and he didn't like it.
Apparently my fond memories were showing tell-tale signs on my face, "One? Yeah, I'll believe that one when Nana makes a bad batch of lemon squares." I was about to protest when she jumped up and gave me a hug, "Don't worry, if you don't want to talk about it I'll just go spend time with my boyfriend. And I'll be sure to be home by one." Again, she was faster than my reactions and was gone before I could tell her to be home by 10.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, this was a very stressful afternoon and I needed to clear my head. I was just getting calmed down when a light voice whispered in my ear, "That wasn't the way I remember things, I thought they were much more… fun than that." Her arm slid around me from behind the Lazy-Boy as she asked, "Do I need to refresh your memory Dr. Possible?"
That woman knew exactly how to push my buttons, "I do believe I remember in near photographic detail everything that happened that night." And I knew if she didn't stop, there was a good chance we'd have a repeat.
"Well, if you remember everything that happened that night, I'm sure you remember what happened on Saturday." I honestly have very little in solid memory of that Saturday night, my mind was on another planet, sent there by a certain beautiful 18 year old red-headed lithe body, "Oh, and by the way…" She let the phrase hang, causing my old ticker to jump a few times before finishing her thought, "the boys are staying with Wade, something about perfecting the battlesuit's adaptive camouflage."
I started smiling like a kid in a candy store, "And Kimmie-cub said she was going to be with Ron till one."
Anne's soft hands slid down my arm and pulled my watch into view, "Oh dear, it's only seven. What could we possibly do to pass the time?"
It doesn't take a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist to guess what happened next. She used that surgeon's tender care to perform miracles on me, and I sent her to the moon.
