Official statement: This story has no connection to the story "ABCs of Love" by xxrougekissxx. The only aspects we share are that Ana is a kindergarten teacher and Christian is the parental guardian of one of her students. But to give her credit, I can officially state that the idea of Kindergarten teacher Ana was firstly used by her. The rest of my story is fresh out of my own crazy head.

AU story. No BDSM. Just fluff. A little bit of drama to keep things interesting. No CEO Christian. HEA planned.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money earned. Kindergarten teacher Ana idea reused by me. A little bit betaed... by me.

If you are wondering why I am uploading another story, even though I have four other unfinished ones waiting for me, then don't. Because I don't know why I am doing this. Fun? Torture? For the kids? No idea.

For you, maybe ;)

Thank God, one of the other stories is going to end soon, though.

Have fun xo

Step by step

Summary: One forward, two steps back. Falling, getting up and trying again. These are the first steps of a toddler. And the steps of two adults falling in love again. Teachers love good-looking daddies. AxC, OOC, HEA.

1. From peacocks and teachers

Like sardines in a can, they were crammed together, their eyes not blinking for one second, their lips curled. They had put on their most chic clothes, appropriate enough to be worn in the middle of the day, but still slutty enough to be worn by a college party-goer. Their hairdos were freshly done, probably at Franco's, a hairstylist nearby, their heads featuring the newest and not so newest hairstyles. Their cars, mostly vans, were parked nearby , one of them shinier and cleaner as the other one. They smelled of freshly baked cookies, with the precision of a five-star chef cooked meatloaf, and the heavy smell of detergent. Everything about them screamed perfection, from the way their hair was done to the shiny leather of their shoes, from head to toes nothing was out of place. In fact, they all seemed a little too perfect, like dolls made out of porcelain, each dressed up for the one and same thing: leaving a good – no, a perfect- impression.

I looked down at my white button down shirt, the top buttons missing, and my light jeans, comparing my clothes to the polished ladies standing at the gates. The worn Converse on my feet were comfortable, even if they weren't the latest fashion trend. Comparing to the mannequin like women outside the building, I was a plain Jane, a typical wallflower in between exotic roses and orchids. Before I started working at Mrs' Williams kindergarten, I had never been intimidated by anyone just because of their clothes or their wealth. I always had thought I was one of these independent ladies who did their own thing without caring about snobby people's opinion, and in some way I still was one of them, but since I started working as a teacher for the wealthy clientele of Bellevue's most exclusive kindergarten, I felt more out of place than I had ever felt before. Normally, I never would have dared to start working at an establishment like this, the thought of being a part of the high society world always had mortified me, but real life and college tuition made me desperate and since I needed the money I earned like air to breath, I had gladly submitted my application when I heard that they were looking for a new teacher. Even though my major had been British Literature, I had easily gotten the job thanks to one of my professors whose kid used to go to Mrs' Williams, but until then I had done lots of waitressing and babysitting. I even hadn't been able to afford my flat and had to share a small apartment with four other people.

I had never liked kids that much to be honest. I guessed that they were cute and stuff, but I had never thought about having a few of my own, let alone work at a kindergarten. Kids usually found me boring, maybe because I was too stern and serious all the time. I couldn't draw like some of my colleagues who gathered the kids' love by drawing them pictures of their favorite heroes and heroines. I couldn't sing or play an instrument and I certainly didn't have the patience to learn it. I certainly couldn't play dress up games or play games on stage, I was more behind the scenes, preparing costumes and decorating the stage. What I could do was reading, I could read the kids tons of fairytales, never getting bored of reading the same things over and over again – at this point, I knew the whole story of Frozen by heart -, even though my audience was small, I had my fun. I just wished that more kids were interested in books.

"Look at those hens." My colleague and dear friend, Andrea, said suddenly. I hadn't noticed her, I had been too busy with aforementioned hens, my task to tidy up the toys area in the Blue elephants room – our students were divided into different groups, each group had an animal as their mascot- neglected because I had been too busy with starring at the Bellevue mums waiting to pick up their kids. I hold a stuffed dolphin in one hand and a stuffed lion in the other as I nod at my friend. I didn't like gossiping about the parents of our pupils as much as she did, it felt wrong, even though I knew that Andrea meant no harm. It was just daily chatter, nonsense and probably inappropriate at work, but it was something everyone did to make the boring day a little more scandalous.

"Can you believe them? Dressed up like this to pick up their kids? My mum used to come in sweatpants and her old Guns n' Roses shirt. She was basically rocking my college outfit back in the 90's." Andrea whispered to me as she helped me picking up the stuffed animals from the floor. We put them in the square wooden boxes placed on the short shelves.

"My dad picked me up." I only said, not wanting to elaborate since speaking about personal things never had been my cup of tea, especially not during work.

"Of course, I didn't attend a fancy kindergarten. Mine was at a local church." She went on, inspecting a stuffed lamb which's left ear was missing.

"I bet that Stanley kid destroyed this." She mumbled before throwing the lamb into the wooden box.

"We should speak to Leila, probably. He is destroying lots of things. I had read somewhere that kids try to let out their anger this way because they can't express it in another way." I told her, thinking about the broken trains and cars I had to throw away last week because Stanley had been a little too rough while playing with them. Andrea snorted and shook her head.

"I will tell you exactly what Leila would tell you. He is just a spoiled kid who doesn't know the value of stuff because his parents keep replacing broken toys instead of teaching him that he won't be rewarded for mistakes in real life, too." She was right. I could imagine Leila, our boss, saying those exact words. She was probably right, maybe I was just too careful.

"We should still keep an eye on him, though." I mumbled.

"You do that, Ana. If you notice something serious, then keep me up to date." Andrea wasn't as over cautious as me, probably because she worked longer at Mrs' Williams than me and with years, she had gotten enough experience to know the students and their parents. We cleaned up the toys area quickly before leaving the Blue elephants room to go outside to the playground where the kids were spending the last hour of their day. Their squeals and screams could be heard from miles away, the slides and swings squeaking underneath their weight, the sandpit a chaotic mess with colorful shovels and buckets in small size. At the last minute, I could prevent a five year old boy with messy, red curls from eating a fistful of dirty sand. Andrea and I stood by the sandpit, taking over our colleagues' watch. When watching little kids mess up the easy task of building a sandcastle bored me, my eyes instinctively swept over to the gates I had been watching out of the window, where the polished mums were waiting for their kids. Just when I asked myself why these ladies were so overly punctual, I got my answer.

The red truck droned as it turned the corner, stopping at one of our parking spots, before the driver side door got opened with a loud squeak. The ladies immediately turned their heads toward the truck, their faces flushed with a wide smile on their painted lips, their racks suddenly pushed out. They puffed themselves, showing off every inch of their perfected attire just like peacocks. I watched them in awe, wondering how they did it, I had never been that confident to show off myself. I was so fascinated by them and their confidence, that I nearly missed the reason for their peacock behavior. Heavy boots made contact with the pavement, kicking off a pebble stone, making it fly a few inches before it landed on the floor with a tud. Long, jeans clothed legs carried their owner with a confident walk, a wallet peeking out of the right pocket in the back. The upper body was dressed in a blue plaid shirt with its buttons open, a white t-shirt underneath flattering the strong muscles. A long neck lead to a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, pouty lips and piercing gray eyes. A mess of dark-copper curls was crowning his head, I thought the phrase just fucked hair had never been more fitting.

"Ladies." The good-looking man said as he passed the mums, tipping an imaginary hat at them. Immediately a soft wave of giggles and swoons could be heard from them, his charismatic smile probably causing a few wet panties. He walked up to a pillar next to the entrance and leaned against it with crossed arms as he waited for his kid.

Now I knew why these ladies were always looking like they stepped out of a magazine.

"Look at that DILF." Andrea whispered to me. I gave her a warning look, not wanting to be caught speaking about a parent in an inappropriate way. She just rolled her eyes at me.

"Don't be so tight. We are allowed to look."

"He seems to have lots of fans." I nod toward the giggling hens, wondering why married women bothered to check up another man who was married, too – probably. Even if he wasn't married, he got a kid.

"These are not just any fans, Ana. These are the grown-up equivalent of crazy Justin Bieber fan girls. They would fight over him in a mud pit if their kids weren't close by." Andrea told me as she leaned down to dab away sand from her knees after a girl with blonde pigtails had accidentally thrown some her way.

"His poor wife must feel awful." I said with a frown, feeling awkward for looking at him longer than a second, pitying the woman waiting for him at home. I would hate it if somebody looked longer at my man than it was actually polite.

Andrea chuckled.

"He got divorced last year. Apparently his wife cheated on him. Why would you cheat on a man like that?"

I suspected that she was one of the crazy fans, too.

"Why would anyone cheat on anyone?" I corrected her. She rolled her eyes at me, her hands at her hips.

"You know what I mean. I'm just saying if she met a better looking guy than him, I want to be a part of her circle. The only men I met are either average looking assholes who think of themselves as God or not even average looking assholes who think of themselves as God. You have to confess that the dating world lacks of men like him." Andrea said, nodding toward the entrance area at the gates. I wouldn't know. I had stopped giving dates a try long time ago.

"Who the hell is he anyway?" I asked her out of sheer curiosity, wanting to put a name on his face.

"Mr. Christian Grey. He has a daughter, Ellie. She is attending Olivia's class."

Olivia was one of our less favorite colleagues, her pettiness and arrogance reminded me of the typical Queen B's of high-school. Everyone was done with her, including our boss. It was a matter of time until Leila found a loophole in her contract, I knew for a fact that she was desperately looking for one.

"Never heard of him." I said, crossing my arms at my chest, unintentionally copying his posture.

"That's because you live under a rock." The duh was thick in her voice, she also sounded a little accusing. Since the day she and I had become friends a year ago, she had tried everything to persuade me to attend her weekly outings – drinks at the local bar with the newest gossip of Bellevue. I had given her offers a try a couple of times, but I had decided to spend my Friday nights doing something else than drinking an unnecessary amount of alcohol while gossiping like little tattletales. I wasn't judging her or her gang, it just wasn't my scene.

"Okay, I have to confess that he never has picked his daughter up this much before. Usually, his mother who lives close by would pick her up. But in the last few months, he was spotted daily at the gates being his charming self." She went on, brushing a strain of hair back behind her ear, her blonde bob combed back.

"Then it's not weird that I haven't noticed him before." I shrugged my shoulders.

"How can you not notice a man like him?" She stressed the word not, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. It was my turn to roll my eyes at her.

"I'm sorry for actually concentrating on my job."

"Where is the fun in that?" She answered back, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "Come on, let's gather the kids."

It was a difficulty to get over sixty kids stop playing, but we managed somehow. After a wild round of putting the right kid into the right jacket and getting them their backpacks, we gathered the kids in the hall before the big glass doors to sing our daily goodbye song with them, before opening the doors. Like a wild swarm of buzzing bees, the kids, differing from age three to seven , ran out toward their mum's and dad's – apart from the good-looking Mr. Grey, there were a few other fathers - , excitedly telling them about their day and earning a bored look from their parents. I couldn't blame them, I knew how much these little kids could talk.

"Goodbye, Miss Steele." A Brunette little girl said to me, waving her chubby hand, the two front teeth missing in her smile.

"See you tomorrow, Susan." I said, waving back while her mum gave me a polite smile. She was one of the ladies in Mr. Grey's crazy fan club. I tried to come up with a name for said club, but nada. Unintentionally, my eyes roamed the crowd and looked for the good-looking man among the polished hairdos and neatly clothed ladies. I found him standing a few feet away from me, bent down face to face with a strawberry blonde haired little girl, I guessed that she was four or five years old, trying to squeeze her into her purple jacket – a difficulty since she was excitedly telling him a story while gesticulating with her hands. He laughed at whatever she said, kissing her on her cheek after he managed to put on her jacket. Unlike the other parents , he didn't rush, he waited patiently and let her tell her story. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in what she said. When her nose run, he got a tissue out of his pocket to wipe her nose. After she finished her story, which she had told with pride and seriousness, he got up and reached for her hand, her backpack hanging over one of his shoulders. Before they could walk away, the little girl turned around to wave at one of her friends, making him turn around too in the process.

Our eyes met. His gray ones starring at my blue ones with such an intensity that it nearly knocked my socks off. I blushed heavily, my cheeks burning with the blood underneath my skin, my heart fluttering unexpectedly against my chest. I bit my lip, unable to look away. The only polite thing to do after bluntly looking at his face was giving him a smile, before turning my head away. The blush didn't leave my cheeks, though. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I felt his stare on my face. It intimidated me as much as it infuriated me. I didn't know why he was still looking at me, I knew how rude it had been to stare at him, did he really have to make me taste my own medicine.

When he didn't stop starring, I dared another look after saying bye to another student of mine. I used the excuse of waving at the little boy when I looked at Mr. Grey's way. He was still starring at me as he waited for his daughter who was excitedly talking to one of her friends. She was a rather bubbly girl, it seemed.

This time, he was the one smiling at me.

To make matters worse, he winked at me.

Even though I hadn't noticed Mr. Grey until today, I was certain that he noticed me the very first day we met.

Thoughts?

Melii out.