AU: Mercedes and Mike are best friends. Best friends who just so happen to be co-parenting their rather rambunctious three-year old daughter, Vivian. It's time for them to start dating again but will they ever approve of the other's choices.

April 29, 2000

Little Mike Chang sat at the end of the bright blue half circle table, his brown eyes trained steadily on the movement of the rather large kindergarten pencil he was using to trace the alphabet. He focused on the sound the pencil made as it worked its way across his paper. He could control this, so he made sure that each letter was traced to perfection and diligently erased an entire character if it showed the slightest flaw. The small boy blinked his eyes rapidly, trying his level best to not allow the tears to fall from them. He was a "big boy" and "big boys did not cry." Mike's breathing hitched as his father's voice resonated in his mind. He wondered if he still had to listen to his father since he was no longer there. It had been a week since he'd last seen him.

Assuming he was asleep, his parents had gotten into their worst argument yet. Mike had tried, to no avail, to drown out the sound of his parents screaming over one another. Occasionally he would hear silence but already knew too well that it was only temporary, as the sounds of ceramic smashing violently against the hardwood floor violated the relief. The voices continued, but Noah could not make out what they were saying. In all honesty he didn't want to try to understand. Eyes already drooping from lack of sleep, Mike grabbed his teddy and snuggled underneath his covers before sticking his thumb in his mouth and drifting off to sleep, not caring that he would undoubtedly get in trouble for being found sucking his thumb. The sound of Michael Chang's heavy footsteps on the stairs were only a prelude to the slamming drawers and closet doors culminating in the whispered question, "But what about Mike?" Mike had been sound asleep.

There were no goodbye hugs or kisses; just the light from the hallway pouring into the dark room.

That morning Mike's mother Julia confirmed that his father was gone for good.

So fixated on not letting his classmates and teacher see him cry, Mike was numb to the passage of time or to the fact that a very large set of brown doe eyes had been trained on him throughout the day.

For the first time in his five years of existence Mike was excited about nap time. He placed his mat in the corner by the bookshelf, wrapped himself in his blanket and stuck his thumb in his mouth; all the while knowing that his father would have disapproved. He felt the light gust of wind caused by a mat being placed next to his but he chose not to turn to acknowledge it. Once the lights were out, he closed his eyes and allowed the salty tears to run down his cheeks, figuring that in the dark no one would see or hear him. Before his small body succumbed to sleep, he felt a small, warm hand rubbing circles on his back.

Mercedes Jones was an observant child. That's why during art, her favorite subject, she had been too distracted to worry with the elbow macaroni and Elmer's glue. She watched Mike instead. The usually energetic child had not said a word in class all day, not even when it was announced that it was his turn to be line leader!

So when nap time came, instead of taking her mat over to where her best friend, Kurt, would be napping; she took her purple nap mat over to the corner where the small ebony haired child had balled himself into the fetal position. She grabbed her blanket and left a small space for her right hand to peek out and began to rub his back, just like her mommy did when she was sick.

Mercedes and Mike did not speak for the rest of the day, but a bond had been formed and cemented that fateful day in kindergarten.

March 21, 2026

Mercedes stood just outside of her daughter's bedroom, peaking through the crack in the door. Her newly decorated big girl room was just one of the very many changes that would be now occurring for the little girl. Fortunately the room had been no problem. The twin size palace shaped canopy bed her father had insisted on building was pastel pink with two towers and the bed nestled in between. On one side of the bed a small set of stairs lead to her very own indoor balcony so she could survey her kingdom (which she had been promptly told did not extend beyond her room). There was even a slide on the other side so that when she was done she wouldn't have to trouble herself with the stairs. She was spoiled.

Truthfully, Mercedes wouldn't have had it any other way. The rest of the room was set up perfectly for the little girl with chalkboard painted walls, bookshelves full of fairytales, Laotian picture books, and African folklore, the perfect tea party set and even her own mini executive desk.

Right now her beautiful bronze colored daughter was tucked into her bed, dark brown ringlets temporarily restrained in matching French braids on either side of her head. Almond shaped brown eyes at half-mast and full lips adorably stretched into an "O" as she failed to suppress a yawn. Her father sat on the edge of her bed, guitar in hand, prepared to sing her to sleep.

"What do you want me to read to you tonight baby girl?"

"The Little Princess, daddy."

"Alright, sweetie." Mike placed a kiss to the little girl's forehead before finding the page where they had last left off and donning an exaggerated English accent.

Mercedes had moved away from the door and made her way to the den and sat amongst a large array of throw pillows she kept in the room. In some ways, she was glad that her little girl was growing up, but she didn't know how to handle it and the stress was beginning to get to her. She had stayed at home for the majority of Vivian's first three years of life, opting to keep her at home instead of letting someone else raise and watch her baby. Now she was elbows deep in primary school applications, trying to decide if she wouldn't just keep the little girl home and home school her until it was time for her to go to college.

"Is she asleep? "Mercedes inquired having already heard Mike's footsteps approaching.

"Like a rock. You know she gets it from you," Mike took the seat next to her and exaggeratedly threw his head into her lap to release a few obnoxiously loud faux snores.

"Shut up, Mike!"a giggling Mercedes exclaimed whilst grabbing the nearest pillow and bopping him against the head with it.

"Hey, hey, hey, that's domestic violence!" shouted Mike as he got up from her lap and playfully scowled at her.

"What is it now?" she asked as she prepared her fingers to tickle him.

"Mercy, don't you dare."

"Don't I dare what?" feigning innocence, she backed him up toward the couch and began her ironically merciless assault of his ribs.

Mike's body stiffened and Mercedes' breathing hitched at the change in position. Mike sat on the couch facing Mercedes who was straddling him with her hands underneath his shirt, her warmth directly above the growing crotch in his jeans. Between the laughter and Mercedes continued tickle assault, neither one of them noticed the compromising position they were in until it was too late. Mercedes doe eyes tentatively looked into Mike's almond shaped ones and saw that they had darkened considerably and that his jaw was clenched in restraint.

It had been so long since they had slipped up that they were not sure how best to handle it, but neither party moved a muscle. This was a consequence of the ambiguous nature of their relationship. At best they had agreed to remain best friends and at the least they agreed that Vivian came first. To most that would observe them, it was obvious that they were a couple. The owned a home together, they lived together, they raised their child together, and they even went on outings together. Neither could verbalize what exactly held them back from making the transition official.

As Mike stared at her now, he couldn't think of a single reason not to make love to the mother of his child. He unwrapped his arms from their protective position around his own body and slowly rubbed his hands down Mercedes' bare arms, feeling the prickle of goose bumps left in their wake.

Mercedes was hyper aware of what was happening. The feelings that she had for Mike were dangerously close to spilling and she wasn't sure if she wanted to stop them.

"Fuck it." Mercedes thought to herself as she slowly removed her hands from their dangerous place under Mike's shirt, gliding over the ridges, and attached them to either side of his face. She gently flicked his lips with her tongue before for bringing their lips together. Both moaned at the contact, while Mike's hands made their way to cup the generous curve of Mercedes hips.

"What are we doing?" Mike whispered against her lips between unhurried kisses.

Mercedes chose to ignore his inquiry and instead ground her hips into him. Mike's lips and tongue had begun their exploration of the thin skin near the nape of her neck, causing her to moan automatically and without restraint. She felt Mike's reaction to her wanton cries pressed against her hot core. For a while she just nuzzled him, allowing for her gentle pants and smooth skin to caress his skin his face.

Quickly and without much fanfare, Mike had stood up and managed to lay Mercedes gently on her back amongst the innocent looking pillows. He pressed his lips firmly to hers once again this time lifting her up so he could remove the tank top she wore. Not once did their lips part. Mercedes attempted to unclasp her bra, but was stopped when Mike's hand gently smacked it away and detached the offending garment with one hand. He placed one hand lightly over her right nipple, barely allowing the palm of his hand to touch the budded skin. He continued his sweet seduction as he gently licked the left nipple, mimicking the actions of the other hand.

Mercedes' body arched from the floor as her left nipple lay exposed to the cooler air as Mike began to suckle her other breast. She felt her most intimate muscles clench deliciously and knew that she would need more attention and soon. She took Mike's hand away from her breast and placed it very firmly over the heat rising from her loins and began grinding into him.

"Damn it, Mercy. Fuck" Mike growled as he pulled down Mercedes soft cotton shorts and underwear exposing her glistening lower lips. He pressed a finger against the hood of her clit and slowly massaged clockwise circles, earning mewls of approval.

"Don't stop!" Mike detached himself from her nipple and used Mercedes thighs to lift her dripping center toward his mouth. He wasted no time hungrily lapping at the juices that covered her most intimate and sensitive areas. He continued to lick and flick her clit until he felt her shuddering and calling for God, Jesus, Muhammad, and Buddha.

He had just released her when he felt her hands making quick work of freeing his throbbing hardness, swollen with arousal. She looked into his eyes and licked the entire underside of his length, licking the dripping pre-cum from the tip before taking him to the back of her throat.

Mike was vaguely aware that the noises he was making made him sound like a little girl, but was far too deep in ecstasy to actually care. Abruptly he lifted up her face to meet his, demanding entrance into her mouth with his tongue. They savored their combined flavor and had continued kissing as he flipped them over and eased into her center, filling and stretching her.

There were no more words. Just the sound of moist bodies meeting, moans caught between lover's lips, and breathy pants. Mercedes felt herself fall over the edge with Mike not far behind, content with the heat and the pulsating tightness that surrounded him. He came into her wetness as she continued to convulse around him coming down from her own high.

They both knew that they would have to talk about it eventually. But tonight they lay in the comfort of their home together, basking in the glow.