(Note: I had to take the lyrics out of the story because apparently that's not allowed. The story is based off of "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman and goes along with the song, so I highly suggest listening to the song while you read.)
Hi Lab Rats fans! So, I came up with this idea yesterday, and I just couldn't resist writing it. I love the song "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman, and I heard it yesterday and starting thinking about how it could relate to Donald and Bree's relationship. This is what came out of that.
If you guys are fans of super-sweet father-daughter fluffiness . . . you've come to the right place. The song itself is so sweet and kinda sad too, and I wrote this story to play with your feelings. If you cry (or come close), then I will consider my job here accomplished.
Of course it's probably best to listen to "Cinderella" while reading this, but you can do what you want. IMPORTANT: I do NOT own Lab Rats. I do NOT own "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman. If you thought I did . . . you have issues. O_O
So anyway, enjoy this sweet, fluffy story, everyone! :3
* * * Cinderella * * *
Donald gave a small grin as he watched the young girl spin around the lab. Bree was dressed in a purple dress she had made herself. She was spinning around to the soft music playing in the background. The eight-year-old was so carefree.
Donald, on the other hand, was not so carefree. He had a hundred things to do today. Davenport Industries was not going to run itself. He sighed as he looked over all the files on his computer again. The words blurred together in front of his eyes. Honestly, as much as he loved being a tech mogul, this was not much fun for him.
The song that was playing ended and Bree ran over to the CD player. She pressed a button and stopped the next song from playing. Then she ran over to Donald's desk. Her tennis shoes – an odd combination with a dress, Donald thought, but Bree was insistent on wearing them – slapping against the ground.
"Mr. Davenport!" she squealed as she ran up to him. "Mr. Davenport, you have to help!"
"What is it, Bree?" Donald asked, rubbing at his eyes. It had been a long day and he didn't really want to be bothered by a little girl right now.
"There's a ball at the castle tonight!" Bree said quickly. "And Mr. Davenport, I'm not ready! I need to practice my dancing! Will you help? You can't dance without a partner!"
"Bree, I have a lot of work to do," Donald said curtly. He didn't have time for a child and her – in his eyes – ridiculous fantasies. "Why don't you ask Chase or Adam?"
"Because they're in the other room playing video games," Bree said with a sour expression. "And they're no fun! You're my daddy! I want you!"
The corners of Donald's mouth twitched as Bree said the word "daddy." His feelings on that were still mixed. "I don't know, Bree."
"Please?" Bree asked. She rested her chin on Donald's knee and stared up at him with sad eyes. She batted her eyelashes and said, "Daddy, please?"
Donald sighed and finally relented. "Alright, alright, I'll dance with you."
"Yay!" Bree exclaimed happily. She grabbed Donald's hand and pulled him out of the chair.
"How do I stand?" Donald asked as they reached the center of the lab.
"I'll show you," Bree replied proudly. "You just hold your arms like this, see? It's easy! Just follow my lead."
Donald bent down and followed the young girl's instructions. He placed his hands on her hips and she grabbed his shoulders. Admittedly it was a bit of an awkward position for Donald; he was much taller than Bree was. But Bree didn't seem to mind.
"Oh, wait!" Bree said suddenly. She broke away from her father and rushed over to the CD player. She pressed the button and the majestic music began to play again. Bree ran back to Donald and they got back into the position. Donald danced back and forth, Bree swaying in his arms.
The sweet, soft music was lightening Donald's mood. He grinned and suddenly lifted Bree off her feet. The eight year old squealed with delight as Donald spun her around in circles.
As the song drew to a close, Donald pulled Bree in and gave her a hug. Bree's legs wrapped themselves around Donald's waist and she held close to her father-figure. The young child buried her face in Donald's shoulder, an action that surprised him. Bree wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I love you, Bree," Donald murmured in his daughter's – yes, daughter's – hair.
"I love you too," Bree mumbled. "Daddy."
"Are you ready?" Bree called down the stairs.
"I've been ready for the past half hour!" Donald called back up. "Girls," he muttered to himself.
"Just a few more minutes!" Bree called back.
"You said that fifteen minutes ago!" Donald shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. Then he shouted, "So, who are you going with again?"
"A boy at school named Ryan," Bree replied. "He is so great. He's really sweet and he's into track and field, like me. He's a great swimmer and he loves chocolate so much!"
"Random facts that I probably didn't need to know!"
"You do need to know that! Those 'facts' are what make Ryan, Ryan! Mr. Davenport, don't worry, he's great! You'd love him!"
"I just want to make sure he won't hurt my baby girl."
"Mr. Dav-en-port!" Bree whined. "I'm not a baby."
"You are to me," Donald whispered in a voice he knew Bree wouldn't be able to hear.
"Okay, are you still ready?" Bree called.
"I am if you are!"
"Alright, here I come!"
The eighteen year old girl walked carefully down the stairs. She had on a sparkling sea-blue dress and dark blue heels. Her stunning diamond earrings hung from her earlobes. Around her neck was a beautiful diamond necklace that matched her earrings perfectly. She had a large bluish-green bow in her hair.
"How do I look?" Bree asked, spinning around once for a demonstration.
"Way too old," Donald mumbled, trying to keep back the tears.
Bree sighed and patted down the dress. "I love it!" she gushed. "Tasha helped me pick it out last week. Isn't it just the cutest thing?"
"Sure, I guess," Donald said. "Ryan might think so too, and that's what I'm worried about."
"Mr. Davenport!" Bree said, glaring at Donald. "Ryan isn't like that. He loves me for me, regardless of how I look."
"Really?" Donald asked, raising one eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"
"Actually, yes, I am," Bree said confidently, placing her hands on her hips. "When we went on our first date, we had spaghetti. In case you didn't know, if someone can watch you eat spaghetti and still wants to be with you, that person is a keeper. I dropped a meatball on my lap, got sauce all over my face, and got cheesy bread stuck in my hair."
"How did yo-"
"Trust me, you don't want to know. Even after all that, he still wanted to hang out with me."
"So he's a good guy?"
"Yes! I promise! Plus, it's prom! Mr. Davenport, prom! And I can't believe it's only a week away. Yes!"
Donald chuckled a little. "I'm glad you're excited."
Bree grinned and edged closer to her father. "So," she said sweetly. "Can you help me practice my dancing?"
"Oh, well, you know, I have things to do," Donald said quickly.
"Oh, come on! Please?" Bree asked. She made a pouty face and flashed puppy-dog eyes. "Daddy? Please?"
Donald sighed. He couldn't resist that pleading face. "Eddy, pull up some slow music."
"Sure," Eddy said slowly. The emoticon smirked. "Can I record this?"
"Eddy!" Bree snapped.
"Don't mess this up, Eddy," Donald said stiffly, not taking his eyes off his daughter. "I don't want to hear another word out of you. Just start the music."
Surprisingly, Eddy didn't protest. The romantic music played throughout the living room. Donald held out his hand and Bree grabbed it. Donald pulled her close, wrapping his arms around his daughter's waist. Bree placed her hands on her father's shoulders and gave a shy smile.
For about three minutes they danced like that. It had been years since they had danced together, and Donald relished every minute of it. He swung his daughter around the living room, watching her brown hair wave wildly around her shoulders. This time was different because Donald and Bree were about the same height. Donald didn't have to throw his back out to dance with his daughter.
As the song came to a close, Donald pulled his daughter close to him. His arms wrapped around her and he squeezed her close. He patted the back of Bree's head as he murmured, "I love you. You know that, right?"
"Of course," Bree whispered in her father's ear. "And I love you too. Do you know that?"
"I do now."
The lab doors opened. Donald looked up to see his twenty-two year old daughter walk into the room. She had a radiant smile on her face and Donald was instantly suspicious.
"What's up, Bree?" he asked.
"I have some big news," Bree said, her smile never fading. She held out her hand and Donald saw something that made his heart stop.
"A ring," Donald mumbled.
"Ryan proposed to me," Bree said, her eyes steamy. "Mr. Davenport, we're getting married! I have it all planned out! I know exactly who I want to invite. We're having it at Mission Creek Community Church, since both Ryan and I have lived here our whole lives. We're going to have our honeymoon in Australia. Isn't that romantic?"
"Yeah," Donald said, trying to talk around the lump in his throat. Tears were forming in the back of his eyes as he looked at his now-adult daughter. She was all grown-up. Like it or, she was grown-up.
Bree must've noticed her father's sadness, because she said, "The wedding is still six months away. But I want to practice my dancing now. I mean, the sooner the better, right? I want to make sure I get it right."
Bree walked up to where her father was sitting at his desk. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. "Can you help me practice? Please, Daddy?"
"Of course," Donald whispered. He stood up and walked around the desk to Bree.
The father and daughter pair began to dance around the lab to the music Donald had commanded Eddy to play. The sweet notes filled the air as Donald stared into his daughter's beautiful brown eyes. He could see the joy that radiated from them. Bree was so happy to be getting married.
Yet no matter how many times Donald looked at his daughter, all he could see was that eight-year-old girl that had so sweetly asked him to dance. That was fourteen years ago, but it seemed like only yesterday. Where did the time go? Why hadn't Donald spent more time with her? He knew that he didn't always care about the kids when they were little. But somehow he felt especially mad about not spending more time with Bree. She was his girl; his only little girl. Donald willed himself not to cry as the song went on. Bree was smiling as she moved closer to her father.
"Don't ever forget how much I love you," she whispered over the music. "No matter how old I get or the fact that there will be another guy taking priority in my life, you will always be my 'daddy,' Mr. Davenport. Please understand how much I love you. Please understand how much I always will."
Donald adjusted the cuffs on the sleeves of his tuxedo. "Ready?" Bree whispered beside him.
"Are you kidding?" Donald whispered back. "I'm about to walk my daughter down the aisle. Bree, I'm handing you off to another boy."
"I know," Bree murmured.
Donald pulled Bree closer and kissed her forehead gently. "I'll always love you. You'll always be my little girl."
"I know," Bree said with a giggle as she pulled the veil down over her face. "I love you too."
They walked up to the doors. Donald took a deep breath as they opened and he and his daughter walked into the sanctuary. Everyone stood as the classic wedding music played. Donald and Bree walked down the aisle, Bree's arm clasped tightly in her father's.
At the end of the aisle Donald could see the dark-haired man that was Ryan standing there. Ryan had a nervous expression, but Donald saw the way his face melted when he saw Bree.
Adam and Chase stood off to the side, watching with joyful faces as their white-clad sister walked toward her soon-to-be husband. Leo and Tasha were there as well. They were both wiping their eyes with tissues. Donald tried to keep a straight face as they reached the alter.
"Take care of her," Donald whispered as he passed his daughter's hand to Ryan. "She's a special girl. Very special. You take good care of her, you hear?"
"I hear you, sir," Ryan said politely. "And trust me, I know how special she is."
Bree blushed under the white veil and giggled. Donald stood back. He had just passed off his daughter – his only daughter – to another man. She was no longer his. Donald bit back the tears as the couple exchanged their "I do's."
Whether she knew it or not, Bree was a fantastic daughter. And even though her heart belonged to another man now, Donald would find a way to let her know how great she was. She was so special. She was a princess. She always had been. And Donald was proud to be her daddy.
I'll admit, I almost cried while writing this. I'm creeping myself out right now (I never cry). So . . . did you guys like it? Lots of Donald-Bree father-daughter fluff for ya. :3 Set to (in my opinion) a fantastic song.
I don't know where Douglas was during all of this. Maybe it's an AU where he never came back. Maybe he just wasn't there. Whatever. He didn't fit into the story, so I didn't write him. Use your imaginations to figure out where he was, but I'm not telling you here in "Cinderella."
How was it, guys? That was my first songfic. I think it went well! If you guys liked it, don't forget to leave a review and tell me how I did. Don't forget to favorite the story and follow/favorite me for more stories like this. Bye!