Watching the swinging pendulum of the clock on the wall as its 'ticks' and 'tocks' echoed loudly within the silent living room, Law noted with a sigh how little time had passed and how long was still left to go.

"So."

Peeling his gaze off of the horrifically slow-moving sands of time to the older man sitting on the sofa across from him, he attempted a neutral gaze, certain that any show of annoyance or open dislike on his part would only spur the man's behaviour further.

"How did you and my little girl meet, exactly?"

"Daddy, I told you. We me-"

"I'm asking him, boo-bear." He cut off, leaning forward, hands on his lap, his sugared tone dropping once more as soon as he turned back to Law again. "He can talk, can't he?"

Finding the corner of his mouth lifting at the open taunt, Law reclined more comfortably as he crossed his long legs. Refusing to match the man's body language, pace or show the aggravation wanted of him.

"I met her at work." He answered simply.

"Mhmm, she says you're a doctor…" He muttered in obvious disbelief, looking him up and down in critical assessment. "…but I don't buy it."

"Dad, we've been over this. He was in the hospital, in a white coat, the other doctors knew who he was. He is a doctor."

"Then our hospitals and medical system has gone to shit for hiring someone like him. Doesn't look like any doctor I've ever seen, covered in tattoos and all – do your patients appreciate those words on your knuckles, 'Doctor' Trafalgar?"

"They appreciate my knowledge and skill. You could simply ask your daughter that question." Law answered smoothly, looking at his girlfriend on the seat beside him.

Looking between them as they shared a small, secretive smile, the gruff father rolled his eyes in disgust. "Silly klutz, I told ya you were too young to move out. How you managed to stick yourself prying frozen burgers apart is beyond me." The man grumbled.

"Actually, accidental hand injury trying to divide frozen foods with a sharp utensil is one of the most common injuries seen in the emergency department. Especially during barbecue season in the summer." Law stated factually, sparing his girlfriend an amused grin, though her father didn't appreciate it or the snippet of medical trivia.

"See? It could have happened to anyone." She said, puffing her cheeks defiantly in her defence.

"Badly enough to need the, so called, 'surgeon' on call to evaluate it?" He retorted, emphasising his disbelieving pronunciation of Law's occupation with air quotes.

"I was worried about scarring so they called him for his opinion…"

"Exactly what I just said. Badly enough to need a surgeon to come look at it."

"…I'm not moving back home." She sighed, tiring of the same old argument and watching as her mother bustled into the room, a big smile on her face as she carried a tray of drinks.

"Eighteen is too young to be out on your own. You can't even make a damn meal without ending up in hospital for crying out loud." He sighed back, equally tired of the repetitive conversation with his stubborn daughter and frowning as his wife made a beeline for their 'guest' first. "You should just move back home. See what being on your own and being a klutz caused? Attracting a bunch of creeps?" He questioned, gesturing to Law with a rude, dismissive hand.

"Daddy! He's not a creep! He's an amazing and very kind man! He sutured my hand himself, even though he didn't have to - just because I was worried I'd be left with an ugly scar. He did such a wonderful job too, you can hardly see it." She defended, proudly holding up her palm in illustration as Law unsurely took a glass from the tray, avoiding eye contact with the beaming woman that offered it to him.

"Yeah, I'm sure he stayed behind and stitched it for you personally, whilst being on call, when any other doctor in the emergency department could have done it for you just because he took your worry about having a scar to heart…Had nothing to do with how pretty my little girl is, right, 'Doctor?'" He asked, drawing Law's attention back to him with a mild frown.

"Dad." She said in a low tone, taking a highball glass for herself as her mother offered it to her.

"…Bet you were wearing one of those damn low cut tops of yours again." He muttered, watching his wife make her way over to him, finally.

"Daddy!"

Paying his daughter's offended outburst no mind, he turned his attention back to Law. "So tell me, 'Doctor,' how often do you date your patients? Hmm? They allow that kinda behaviour at the hospital you work at? Been thinking of giving them or the medical licensing board a call to check and ask." The man said casually, ignoring the glare his wife gave him as he took his own drink.

Suppressing the slight twitch beneath his eye as his temper rose at the blunt threat, Law took a deep breath to settle himself as his girlfriend sighed heavily beside him with a facepalm. "Actually, you'll find it's perfectly acceptable for doctors to date former patients." He explained calmly.

"Is that right…Guess I'll just be calling to verify you're licensed at all then." The man shot back nonchalantly, enjoying the visible twitch beneath Law's eye as he took a sip of his drink.

"John! How rude! Enough's enough!" His wife snapped, resting her free hand to her hip as she lowered her empty tray.

"Dad, please…"

Taking in his wife's displeasure and his daughter's saddened expression and pleading tone he sighed as he rest back in his seat. "…Alright boo-bear, I'll try to give him a chance." He relented.

"That's better." His wife said softly, rubbing his arm in encouragement with a smile before turning to her daughter. "Come on dear, let's give the men a chance to get to know each other a little better. I could use a hand in the kitchen anyway." She winked at her.

"Oh, yeah. Sure, mom." Ignoring the unsubtle look in Law's eyes that very clearly told her not to leave him alone with her father; she smiled sweetly at him, giving him a reassuring peck on the cheek before getting up and following her mother out of the room.

Closing his eyes with a barely contained sigh as they disappeared around the doorframe, Law reluctantly looked back at the man on the sofa opposite him, trying hard to minimise his grimace.

"So, what do you want with my daughter?" The man asked bluntly, swirling the root beer around the ice cubes in his glass.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"…I don't really understand the nature of your question." Law answered cautiously, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"And here I thought doctors were supposed to be smart." He, John, scoffed. "How old are you, son?"

Running his tongue over his teeth inside his mouth as he bit back the urge to tell the man not to refer to him in that way, Law leant back casually in his seat once more, trying not to let his girlfriend's father get under his skin. "I'm sure she's already told you how old I am."

"What's so difficult about answering my questions directly? You got something to hide?"

Law could already see where this conversation was headed but answered confidently all the same. "Twenty-six."

"Mhmm and she's eighteen."

"Your point being, 'sir?'" Pleased at the sour look on the man's face at his mock politeness, Law took a sip of his own refreshment.

"My point being, she's barely left the house, barely gotten on her own feet, barely decided what she wants to do with her life…and she's barely legal."

Unsurprised by the sinister-sounding turn of the conversation as he'd foreseen it coming, Law remained quiet; there was no question to be answered. Instead he chose to take another sip of his drink, deciding he wasn't willing to rise to what he supposed was a legitimate concern for a loving parent to have.

"You like 'em young, doc?"

Spluttering the fluid in his mouth, Law looked at the man in honest shock of the blunt accusation.

"Just set the table so you two can go on through – oh, and Mom's asking if you guys would rather have wine or whisk-…What happened to you?"

Looking over at his girlfriend as she peered around the doorframe, smile fading a little in her curiosity as she took in the spilt drink on his shirt, Law regained his composure, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he glared at her father.

"Nothing, your boyfriend's just a little clumsy. Steady surgeon hands and all." John replied dryly, getting up from his seat with a hefty huff and giving Law a victorious little smile past his thick moustache as he made his way out of the room.

Frowning at him, Law used the napkin that had been wrapped around his glass to dab the spilt drink on his shirt as he got up as well, walking over to the doorway and coming to a stop beside his girlfriend as she looked up at him in silent question of what had really gone on.

Waiting until her father had left ear shot and entered the open dining room ahead, he glanced down at her. "Definitely the whiskey." He muttered, before reluctantly trailing after the man.


Author's Note:

sarge1130 - You're absolutely right, dad's often hate boyfriends because they were that age once. They know exactly what they're thinking because they used to be thinking it, lol.