A/n: No copyright infringement intended. Possible spoiler for those who are still playing. I highly recommend finishing the game before reading fanfictions.

Fresh green grass and the smell of it did something to him. It had been a while since he played and he hoped he wasn't rusty. Solomon invited him out. Sure it was a workday day but when your boss was Solomon Richards this counted as work too.

"Michael." Solomon said as he positioned himself to swing his gold club. "Tell me about your family. Your kids. Your wife."

"You've met my family." He told him.

"Yeah, but I mean like, the details. Not all that prim and proper bullshit at dinner parties, if you know what I'm saying."

"Ah…what do you want to know?" He asked.

"Well, you said you guys aren't originally from Los Santos. Well, I don't know…how was it for you when you first got here?"

"I'm not trying to be rude sir, but why does any of that matter?"

"I feel like I'm working with a stranger." Solomon admitted. "I mean I know you – but I don't know you. I know nothing about you. And come on, we're more than boss and employee, we're friends. Yeah?" With a fine swing of his club the golf ball flew off into the distance. With swings like that Solomon definitely would win the game. Michael watched the ball go and had nothing to say. The only thing he'd make sure to do was not to place any bets that he'd beat Solomon. "Well?"

"Okay. I'll tell you. It's not really a funny story, but I like it. So – it's been about a year since we lived here. And Tracey gets into this private school we've been dying to send her to."

"Mom! We have to get me lessons!" Tracey beseeched. She followed Amanda around the kitchen while she gathered materials to begin dinner.

"Why?"

"There's cheerleading practice. And – I just have to be a cheerleader. The coolest girls in school are all on the squad!"

"Trace. We send you to school to learn. Not to fit in with cool girls who are probably big bad letters that begin with b anyway." Amanda began to chop carrots and Tracey nearly lost her mind.

"Oh my God! You want me to be unpopular and fat and ugly!" She began to cry and Amanda nearly cut her fingers off when chopping. The sound of her cry was so shrill. It was like a banshee who lost her love in some sort of horror movie. In fact, Tracey's cries could have been a reason for a horror movie.

"Fat? Ugly? Tracey hun…" Amanda could hardly get words in as her daughter just stood there crying. Her mouth ajar, her eyes shut tight, and tears that ran like waterfalls. "Tracey. Tracey. Tracey Townley – "

"It's De Santa babe. De Santa. It's been a year already." Michael walked into the kitchen and grabbed a carrot off the counter. He began eating and pointed to Tracey with the same carrot. "What's her problem?"

"She wants to be a cheerleader."

"Mom wants me to be fat, ugly and unpopular!" She stopped crying to yell that. Then she resumed her banshee tears.

"What?"

"She wants to take dance lessons, so she can be good enough to try out for the cheerleading squad. I didn't even say no. I just told her those girls were probably jerks."

"Oh baby." Michael chomped into his carrot once more before returning it to the counter. He pulled Tracey into his arms and squeezed her. "You'll be a great cheerleader. Daddy does not think you need lessons."

She sniffled, feeling her father's warm embrace and his reassuring words. "Really daddy?" She asked.

"Yes baby." He said in a small childlike voice.

Amanda stopped chopping and stared at the two. A man and his daughter. They were ridiculous. Everything she said was apparently a bullet. Everything Michael said was honey. Honey glazed with sweet sugar and happiness. Something about fathers and their daughters. She wasn't like that with her father. Maybe it was why she became a stripper. Since Tracey could almost get anything from Michael she figured she could try her luck too.

"Tracey, honey. Why don't you go start your homework? Huh? Daddy and I need to talk."

Tracey beamed with joy. "Okay mom. I love you daddy." She hugged Michael a second time. Squeezed him tightly. Her little body against his made her feel safe. It also made Michael feel like a good father. For him, that was a rare occasion. Tracey released Michael and skipped out the kitchen. Yeah. She skipped.

"Yeah babe." Michael pressed his palms on the counter's edge, and leaned over to Amanda. She blushed a bit for he looked quite handsome then. He had just come home and she hadn't seen him all day. Absence does make the heart fonder. And makes one's husband sexier. He wore a white button down that exposed his forearms and the fine hair on it. She always thought he had incredibly sexy arms. He was good at talking to her too. Always could smooth her over.

"I'm thinking…" She said. For some strange reason she was unable to place her words. She knew what she wanted and that was sex. No. Actually she wanted to ask for new implants but she got so distracted looking at his arms. Wait. What did she want to ask him again?

"Yeah." He lowered his voice when hearing the uncertainty in hers. He knew he turned her on. It excited him to know he still had it in him to win her over.

"Well. Maybe Tracey could take those dancing lessons. I've seen her in her room. She could use some help with it." Why did she say that? That wasn't the plan.

"I guess. Or…" Michael made his way around the counter. He stood behind Amanda and his hands circled around her waist. He caressed her and rubbed his hands over her abdomen. He brought them higher and fondled her breasts. "We could take that money and get you bigger 'girls' right here. Not that you need them. You're already so perfect." He whispered into her ear.

Amanda burned a bright red in the face. How did he know that's what she wanted? Even so, what was with the sexy act? Where was this going? When would she finish dinner?

"Ah…maybe we should just let her take lessons. You know. She really wants to and it'll help with her try outs…is it hot in here?" Amanda could feel Michael squeezing again. Once. Twice. Three times. She could feel heat between her legs. "Damn it Michael fuck me!" She shouted.

"That's all I wanted to hear." He spun her around and she dropped the knife to the ground. He picked her up placing her on the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist. They kissed heavily and Michael sent his hands underneath her blouse, fondling her breasts again.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home! When's dinner going to be re –"Jimmy stood in the hall staring at his parents. He held his baseball bat in one hand, dragging it along the tile. He dropped that immediately. His hat fell off his head when titled it to the right, trying to get a proper view. "Are you guys…"hurting" each other?" He asked.

Little Jimmy was pale with large red curls in his hair. His freckles spotted his face like bits of sugar sprinkled on top. He wore a red and white baseball uniform. He was on the little league team. Apparently he had practice and just came home. Most likely dropped off by the team's coach.

Even more apparent was that his parents were going to have intercourse on the same counter their mother usually prepared dinner on. This was very awkward. Although he didn't have a complete understanding of what it was that was taking place he did have a wide enough set of eyes to record the moment in his head.

To make matters worse two other little boys on the same baseball team ran in after Jimmy. One shouted that he forgot his mitt. It seemed the other just came to tag along.

Now there it was. Three. Three little boys staring at Amanda with her legs wrapped around Michael. Though it could have been worse, it couldn't have been worse.

"Hey…Jim." Michael didn't know what to say. He hadn't mentally prepared to talk to Jimmy about the birds and the bees for another few years. He just learned Tracey started her period a few months ago. He wasn't ready for this.

Amanda's eyes couldn't open any wider. She thought about the mothers of the other little boys. How it'd spread quickly that her husband and her did the nasty on the kitchen counter. She wasn't ready for such judgment. She already struggled to fit into the social circle of housewives. She knew they looked down at her. She knew.

Tracey ran downstairs and headed towards the kitchen. She saw Jimmy was home and his little friends. "Why'd you bring your gross friends home Jimmy?" She headed towards the kitchen and stopped when seeing her parents in a different position than she left them.

Michael, without moving, did the math for what three new baseball mitts & bats, dancing classes and implants would cost.

And his favorite brand of whiskey.