A/N: I don't own this, we all know who does. If I did, Rpattz would have let me shave his head for him. I do it for my hubs all the time, I've totally got that hairstyle down. :) Plus he would have let me play with it first. :D
This is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes belong to me. I'm sick, feel like crap, so please forgive me. :) I wanted to get this out on Friday the 13th. It's still Friday the 13th of me. Barely. :)
This is for Luxure. She wanted some of the Daddy/Daughter weekend when Bella was gone to Leah's wedding. I hope she likes this. :)
This story is for my wifey, Mrs. Robward. It's funny...we talk for hours on the phone, and it's still never long enough. :D That's a sign of love, right there. :D
Nobody preread this. It might totally suck. Sorry if that's the case. But I like it... :)
**disclaimer **
This story is a bit taboo. This outtake is not. It's also based on something from my real life. A few things, actually. There's nothing like a dad having a tea party with his daughter. My hubs kinda rocks sometimes. :)
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… Outtake Three – Tattoo … Edward …
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We sit around a small table, tiny chairs, tea cups in hand, me and her. She and I. A year ago, I never would have imagined myself like this. A tea party with a talkative six year old girl. She's so much like you, her mother. And I love it. More than I could ever express.
It's Friday night and you're gone to Leah's wedding, leaving me alone with Claire. For the first time, it's longer than just a few hours.
I really hope I don't screw it all up.
Mess up her bed time. Forget to make her brush her teeth. Pour too much bubble bath in her bath water.
The worst thing about me fucking this all up is that she'll tell you. I know it, it's like she's allergic to keeping secrets. Sometimes I love it. Other times...not so much.
"Daddy?" she says, looking up at me with an expression you often wear.
"Yeah, Claire Bear?"
"What's that picture on your leg?"
I'd been waiting for this to come up. She doesn't know much about tattoos, other than they're bad. I almost always wear jeans, or dress pants, or sleep pants. Always something long. The few times I didn't, she was distracted, not paying attention. I didn't know what to say, still don't, and I really wish you were here.
"Well, that's a picture. It's called a tattoo and it's a picture of a black cougar."
"How did you get that?" She's still playing with her tea set, moving cookies from her plate to mine.
"Well, when I was in college, I went to a place with some of my friends, and I thought it looked nice, so I got it." I decided to leave out the part about being drunk off my ass and having my heart in pieces. She didn't need to know why I'd done it, that I'd done it to remember you...Mrs. Black, my very own cougar.
"Did it hurt? How did they get it to stay on there? With glue?"
I smile at her, so sweet and innocent. "No, they used a machine and it had some needles in it. They poked into my skin and put some ink in there, and that's what made the picture."
"I don't like needles. They hurt me. Didn't it hurt, Daddy?" she says, looking at me as though I've lost my mind. At that point in my life, I thought I had.
"Yeah, it hurt a lot."
"Then why, Daddy? When things make ouchies on me, I don't do them."
"That's because you're smart," I say, reaching across the table and taking her little chin between my thumb and index finger. She smiles, looking so much like you.
I miss you.
It's ridiculous. You're only gone for two nights, and have only been gone a few hours, and I already miss you.
"How come I didn't see that picture before?"
"Well, because I wear pants usually, so it's covered up."
Her head tilts to the side, like yours does when you're thinking about something.
"I think it's 'cause you had all that hair on it before, and now it's so slippery."
I laugh. "Well, that's a tradition, sweetie. I shaved the hair off of it today because it's Friday the 13th. It's something my grandpa did, too."
"Your grandpa had a picture on him, too? Why did he do that?" Her little brow scrunches together, I know she's confused.
"Well, he was in a war and lots of men got tattoos then. I don't know why, they just did." I'm grasping at straws, here. I hope I'm not messing this up too bad.
"That's silly. Where they big and strong and tough like you are?"
I smile, loving the way she sees me. "You think I'm big and strong and tough, huh?" I say, straightening the floppy old lady hat on my head.
She giggles, the way I always love. "I forgot your necklace, Daddy!" She jumps up, running across the room. The string of oversized plastic pearls she returns with makes me smile.
"I can't believe we forgot my necklace. Now I'll be super pretty, huh?" I say, sliding the strand over my head.
"I'm tired of tea party, Daddy. Let's play Polly Pockets. You can be the white haired one, I'm gonna be the brown haired one. She looks like Mommy. Plus that white haired one has bigger boobies."
She hurries over to her shelf, pulling out a box filled with dolls and rubbery clothes. She drops on the floor, dumping it out on the rug.
At least I'll get to undress one hot chick tonight. Even if she is blonde with plastic tits.
Though I'll always prefer brunettes.
And real boobs.
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A/N: This is for my grandpa, my brother, and my cousin. I love tattoos and Friday the 13th. I have my grandpa to thank for that. And my brother and cousin to thank for the continuation of traditions. :)
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