a/n: silly fics for christine because why not.
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Zach breaks his arm on a Saturday afternoon. He's walking down the stairs in his socks – honestly he knows they polished the hardwood yesterday why he's even in his socks is beyond her – and he's texting on his phone. She'll bet on his college fund that it's Cammie.
Catherine rants at him for about fifteen minutes about how stupid he and how she's told him about a thousand times not to text and walk before he runs into a wall and breaks his face or something. It's mostly just a way to ignore the fact that she can feel her pulse still buzzing against her skin, to forget the way she felt her heart stop and her chest constrict when she heard his broken cry and the thud of his body after it hit the ground.
Zach has this pinched look on his face while she's talking but she's not sure if it's the pain from his arm or her voice that's making him look like someone just punched him in the gut.
At some point she remembers that his arm's actually broken and she should most probably take him to the hospital before he dies from pain – so she forces him into the car and continues ranting at him for the entire ride.
It's only when they've reached the hospital and she asks the receptionist for Dr. Solomon that Zach finally responds to her.
"Mom, I'm eighteen fucking years old why are you taking me to the pediatrician?" Zach snaps as Catherine leads him by his good arm into the elevator.
Catherine's got a very rational response to taking her recently turned adult son to his childhood pediatrian. It's in her motherly duty to ensure that her son is in good care and in this day and age well, you can't just go ahead and trust anyone to shove sharp pointed objects into your kid's body. And Joe, she trusts to shove point objects at Zach so, if Zach doesn't like it that's his problem because at the end of the day she's the one paying his medical bill.
"Language Zachary," she warns him with a stern glare which he responds to with an eye roll.
Teenagers, honestly, they've got no goddamn respect these days.
"And because I said so," she adds with a bright smile, holding onto his arm firmly after he tries to pull away the first time.
"Plus, I thought you loved Joe."
"No Mom, I like Joe," he tells her, "you on other hand love Joe. You want in Joe's pants. Why I need to be used and exploited for you to get into his pants I don't know though."
"Fucking kids," she mumbles under her breath, pressing the button for the third floor.
"Language Catherine," he mocks back in an eerily good rendition of her voice.
Honestly, fucking teenagers.
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"You know I'm pretty sure he'll sleep with you if you just asked him to," Zach whispers, eyeing Joe who's on the other side of the room comparing x-rays.
The look Catherine drops him is nothing short of deadly.
"I'm just saying," he mumbles defensively, "if your teenage son is getting more action than you, something is obviously wrong."
"Did I ever mention that I dropped you on the head one too many times when you were a baby?"
"Hey hey, don't get snappy with me. I know at your age how you women get with your hormonees and all –" but he's cut off by the high pitched whine he lets out when she pinches his thigh, wringing the skin for maximum pain.
Joe turns around with a raised eyebrow, looking at Zach for an explanation.
He coughs to stall time before pulling out a shitty, half mumbled excuse that no one actually understands.
"Honey are you alright? Is it your medication?" she asks making sure to inject some extra worry into her tone as she runs a hand through his hair.
He glares at her, she smiles back, and Joe - Joe is mostly confused.
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Zach gets his arm put in a pink cast because it's the only colour dye that Joe has left and he's really sorry he thought they would've replaced the set by now honestly plus it doesn't even look that pink, more of a faded peach no really, I'm being serious.
"Pastels are very masculine," Catherine adds with a smile trying not to laugh at the way Zach's left eye is twitching madly. Joe lets out an undignified snort next to her that she knows means he's trying not to laugh too. She glances over and finds Joe looking intently at her with that fond little smile on his face he seems to be sending her way more often than not these days.
And you know like, Catherine's a grown woman and all but when Joseph Solomon focuses on her with those eyes and that smile looking like she's just found the cure for cancer, well, there's nothing that's can stop her from reverting into a fourteen year old girl with her first crush.
She kind of wants to hold his hand and kiss him on the cheek and stay up past midnight talking to him on the phone even though her body barely lets her stay awake past ten these days. But then there's the other part of her that wants to push him against a wall and drop to her knees, make him breathless with need and lust, wants to hear him say her name like it's an answer to every prayer he's ever said and – and her son is still in the room with them, right.
Or in other words Catherine Goode has a crush on Joe the size of the fucking Russian Federation and she's completely incapable of doing anything about it. Something about being emotionally constipated or whatever, she tries not to listen to Rachel when she starts lecturing her about healthy relationships and learning to internalize emotions and admitting she has them etcetera etcetera.
She can totally admit she wants Joe – that doesn't mean Joe has to know she wants Joe though, so Rachael can take her psychoanalyzing bullshit and shove it somewhere else. For now she's content to stare at Joe like a lovestruck teenager when he's not looking even if it means she has to endure her son's whining for the next however many years.
Speaking of the devil, from somewhere in the room she hears Zach mumble something along the lines of 'someone fucking shoot me' but she can't be bothered to chastise him for his language when she's got Joe smiling at her like that.
"Hey kid, watch your language in front your mother," Joe says, glancing over at Zach with a raised eyebrow. And for once her son looks somewhat embarrassed if the way two spots of red appear high on his cheeks and he looks down at his shoes mumbling out a 'sorry' is anything to go by. Figures he'll listen to Joe over his own mother, but when Joe looks back over and sends her a wink she can't find it in her to be all that annoyed.