Author note:

Just a quick bit of fluff that popped into my brain. I hope you enjoy it!

CH 19-Always His Little Girl

Quinn was tossing and turning restlessly in her bed. She squinted one eye open and could tell from the weak light filtering through her curtain that it was early. What had woken her? Did her Mom call? Did she need to get up for school?

She relaxed back into her pillow when she realized it was Saturday. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep when a pain tore through her belly. She gasped and tried to breathe through it. The pain passed and Quinn felt like she had to go to the bathroom. She stumbled across the hall and flipped on the light in the bathroom she shared with her brother. As she sat down another pain caused her to double over. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but one glance at her lowered underwear held the answer. It took a minute before Quinn's tired brain could piece together what was happening. When the truth of the situation dawned on her she was beset by emotions. She knew exactly what was going on. They had covered all this in Health class last year. And her Mom talked her through the changes she would go through as she got older. Quinn wasn't even the first of her friends to encounter this milestone. Still, now that it was happening to her, and not just a paragraph in her textbook, it was slightly overwhelming.

She was about to call for her Mom when she remembered that she wasn't home. This weekend was her brother's class trip to D.C. She and her Dad had dropped the two off at AJ's school yesterday. Ugh! Of all the times…why did this have to happen now? Quinn dropped her head into her hands and tried to figure out her next move. She knew she couldn't stay in the bathroom all day. She finished what she needed to do, cleaning herself up the best she could. Then she folded up some toilet paper and placed it strategically in her panties. She washed quickly and retreated to her room.

Quinn pulled off her stained underwear and found a clean pair. Transferring her makeshift padding, she slipped them on. She wanted to slide back into bed and stay there. But she knew she would have to emerge at some point. Her parents were used to her sleeping late on the weekends when her soccer team had no game scheduled. In fact, last weekend when she finally came downstairs at around noon, her Dad turned to her Mom and teased that Quinn was picking up her teenage sleeping habits.

She figured she could slip back into bed for a few more hours and buy herself some time to figure out what to do. It wasn't that she was scared to talk to her Dad, but it was not a conversation the twelve-year-old wanted to have if she could avoid it. Maybe she could just text her Mom and she could tell her Dad. Quinn shook her head and pulled back the covers to lay back down. It was then that she noticed a stain on her sheets as well. Crap! This day was getting better and better. Raking her hand through her curls she tried to decide what to do.

She thought that if she were quiet enough, she could sneak downstairs, throw her things in the laundry, and go back to her room without her Dad even knowing what was going on. She knew that she would probably need something other than wads of toilet paper to handle her current situation, but she would cross that bridge later.

She pulled the sheets off the bed, grabbed her underwear, and slunk down to the laundry room. There was no sign of her Father as she opened the door off the kitchen. Thank goodness her Mom insisted that she learn to do her own laundry. Quinn was less than appreciative of the lesson at the time, but she was extremely thankful for the knowledge now. She laid the soiled sheets and panties on top of the washer and reached for the knob to set the size and temperature of the load. The pain she experienced earlier had subsided but now came back with a vengeance.

Clay came in from the garage where he was working on the lawn mower and found Quinn, leaning against the washing machine, arms wrapped around her middle.

"Quinnie? What's wrong honey?"

She was going to try and pass it off as nothing, but her body wouldn't let her do that. A tear escaped her eye as she looked up at him.

"I…I uh…" she bit her lip and paused.

Clay pressed a hand to her forehead to feel for fever. Being assured that she wasn't running a temperature, he laid his hand on her shoulder as she struggled to respond. Finally, she found her voice. Spitting the words out in a rush before she lost her nerve.

"I started my period last night."

He was stunned for just a moment before answering.

"Uh, okay. Are you alright?"

She gestured to the pile on top of the washer.

"I need to wash this stuff. It got…dirty."

Clay pulled her into his arms and spoke.

"I'll take care of that, don't worry, okay? How about you go up and take a shower."

She nodded against him weakly. She started to leave but turned when she remembered that she still hadn't solved the issue of what to do about hygiene products.

"Dad? I'm going to need something…you know…like pads or something."

He could see her face aflame with color from where he stood. He made a mental note to keep his tone casual and even as he responded.

"Sure, of course. Your Mom keeps her stuff under the sink in our bathroom. Take whatever you need."

Quinn followed his advice and soon he heard the shower turn on in her bathroom. He blew out a breath and turned to deal with the things left to be washed. This wasn't how he envisioned this time with his daughter would be spent this weekend. He would adapt. He didn't want the situation to put a barrier between them. Quinn had always been a Daddy's girl. And if he was home, he was who she had always sought out first, for the good and the bad. If it was a skinned knee, broken toy, or scoring the winning goal, he was who she went to immediately. He wanted to make sure that she saw this was no different. He knew that due to pure biology, she was probably more comfortable discussing this with Emma, but he would do his best to put her at ease and let her know she could talk to him.

Quinn felt better after her shower. The hot water did help her discomfort. She wrapped up in her fluffy robe and again made use of toilet tissue for padding as she shuffled into her parent's bathroom. She flipped on the light and started to look around in the cabinet for her Mother's things. She looked and looked, shifting aside other items, but couldn't find what she needed. Somewhat defeated, she closed the cabinet and turned off the light. She knew that she had to have something. She guessed that she would need to ask her Dad to go buy her something. Could this get any worse? She walked out to the stairs and called to him.

"Dad. Dad. Can you come here?"

Clay left the coffee he was fixing in the kitchen and went to the bottom of the steps. Looking up he could see Quinn, hair still wet, clad in her robe, twisting the belt to said garment nervously in her hands.

"What's up?"

"I, uh, there wasn't anything in your bathroom."

He was about to mount the stairs and check for himself, but then he realized the date. Clay knew his wife's body almost as well as he knew his own. That knowledge led him to remember that she would have needed to pack those items for herself on her weekend trip with AJ.

"Okay. I can run to the store real quick."

He walked up the steps and past Quinn to his room where he retrieved his keys and wallet. She was still standing in the hall when he returned. He stopped and pulled her into an embrace, kissing her damp curls.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

He started down the stairs when she spoke up.

"Dad…do you…do you even know what to get?"

"Yea. I've picked up stuff for your Mom quite a few times. "

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why don't you go lay down and get some more rest. I'll come let you know when I get home."

She nodded and they parted ways.

Clay was thoughtful as he drove to the closest drug store. Quinn still seemed embarrassed to talk to him about this. To be honest, he wasn't completely comfortable either. He and Emma were close with their children and had discussed the facts of life with each of them at the appropriate times. Still, they had kept to the traditional gender specific conversations, him answering AJ's questions, and Emma talking with Quinn. They all were more comfortable that way. He knew the mechanics and biology of what was happening. But not being a woman, he had no firsthand experience from which to draw. He thought about Emma and what she told him over their years together. He decided that he would make another stop on his way home from the drug store.

"Quinn? Quinnie, I'm home," he called out as he neared the stairs.

He knocked on her closed door before entering.

"Hi, honey. I put the things in your bathroom, okay? Come on downstairs when you're ready. I have a surprise."

She nodded and rose from her bed after she heard him descend the stairs.

It was about twenty minutes before Quinn made an appearance in the living room. She was dressed in comfortable, stretchy clothing with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She even had on her bunny slippers. Clay smiled at her appearance.

"Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged slightly.

"Okay, I guess. I still have…" she waved her hand in front of her abdomen.

"Cramps," he supplied for her.

"Yea," she responded, her cheeks turning rosy.

"I bet they hurt. I'm sorry."

She smiled faintly at him.

"Here," he patted the cushion next to him on the couch. "I know we were talking about going down to the pier today. But I thought you might feel more like sticking close to home."

Quinn nodded and settled herself onto the blanket-covered pillows stacked in the corner of the sofa. Immediately she noticed the warmth coming from under the soft throw draped across the cushions. Before she could question him, he spoke again.

"I thought you might want the heating pad. Your Mom says it helps her when she has bad cramps. We can turn it off if you want."

She shook her head as she answered.

"No. No, it feels good."

She snuggled even further into the heat and softness.

"Here," he held out a mug to her.

Quinn took the steaming cup from him and sniffed. Then she blew across the surface and sipped the thick liquid. The bittersweet cocoa laced with hints of cinnamon slid over her tongue and warmed her from the inside out. Her Dad's special blend. He usually only made the homemade drink during the holidays. She leaned to set the mug down and noticed the box on the table from the local donut shop. Clay opened it and she saw a broad selection.

"I wasn't sure what you'd feel like today, so I got a little of everything."

She reached for a cake donut with chocolate frosting and colorful sprinkles. He chose a simple glazed to dip in his coffee. After they finished, he picked up the remote and handed it to her. She grinned and put on a series she was watching on Netflix.

A few episodes later, he felt her lean into him, and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her tightly.

She spoke without looking up.

"Daddy?"

"Yea?"

"Thanks."

He pressed a kiss to her head and responded quietly.

"You bet, Quinnie."

It didn't matter that technically; she was now a woman. She would always be his little girl.