Author: HotChilliGriffin PM
*Mike had a son. A five year old son. Six years ago, he was going out with her.* Mike, a five year old boy, Kate, rampant sexual desire, green leprechauns and an upside-down bed. Plus a few steamy kisses, and my favouritest ever ending. COMPLETE.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - Mike & Kate - Chapters: 9 - Words: 16,539 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 1 - Published: 11-23-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5529567
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
They always said that her hair was her best feature, as if nothing else in her appearance was worth looking at. She didn't really like it, either – it was drab, and without style. And today, standing in the face of a gusting wind, it was blowing around her and getting caught on her face and nose and earrings.
Making her way towards port, and the woman on the dock, was the Hammersley, and on board the warship was Mike Flynn.
She crossed her arms, and waited.
"Hey, who's that?" Spider asked, looking out at the approaching land. "Some woman."
"Spider, just focus on your work," Kate remanded. He nodded dutifully, his concentration returning.
"Good question, though," muttered Swain, looking out. "Who is she? I think she's waiting for us..."
"Someone's girlfriend, probably," Kate muttered, not really interested.
Interest caught by the questions, Mike glanced towards shore. And dropped his log book.
"Sir?" Kate asked in confusion.
"X has the ship!" he called, racing away from the bridge.
"Okay... now I want to know. Who is she?"
As soon as the Hammersley was secure, Mike leapt to the dock and walked straight to the woman. He didn't look happy. The rest of the crew were watching from the bridge, knowing Mike could quite possibly be in a bad mood when he came back.
"What're they saying, X?" Swain asked.
"I would know... how?"
"You can lip read, right?"
"I'm not eavesdropping on the captain..." she began, but she was already reaching for the binoculars.
"No-one tells him about this," she growled. "That's an order."
After a moment, she paused, and began a hesitant translation.
" 'I needed to talk to you.' 'I'm working.' 'You just finished'... 'They don't need to know about my...' my god, did he just..."
"What did he say?" RO asked, also keeping an eye on the pair.
"Something about his wife... oh no, his life... And she says it's not a big deal... whoop!"
Kate suddenly ducked, hitting the floor of the bridge, as Mike pointed at the bridge with one finger, obviously mad. Luckily, he didn't see her, but she realised he was too smart not to know they would all be watching him.
"Right, get back to work," she snapped, picking herself up and marching away.
"Don't ask," Mike instructed as Kate approached, the ship having been anchored appropriately, the woman gone. She raised an eyebrow.
"Who was she?" she asked, ignoring his instruction.
"And I'm asking."
Mike glared at her, but she had never backed down before and she certainly wouldn't do so now.
"You coming to the pub tonight?"
"Don't change –"
"I'm not. She's going to be there. Have to bloody well introduce her now."
Kate smirked. "You don't want us to know about the women in your life?"
Mike caught the second layer to her question, and allowed himself a brief smile.
"She's not a girlfriend, X," he said. It could have been a professional remark, but he could see her getting jealous. "If you'd gotten a decent look at her, you would have known that."
He left the room, as she struggled to ponder his meaning.
"Hey... here he is! Sir!" called Charge, as Mike entered the pub, a slightly-built woman with long, flowing brown hair following him in. More surprising was the young child she carried in her arms. Mike sat down, the woman taking the chair next to him. They were all waiting, trying to hide their curiosity, and failing.
"I'd like you all to meet Emilia... Mel... my sister."
Kate blinked in surprise. She was standing behind the rest of the crew, searching for something to explain the jealousy that was seething within her, but at those words, she froze.
She didn't know he had a sister. The rest of the crew were obviously surprised, too, but Mel didn't seem shocked by their reaction.
"Twin sister," she added. Kate looked closer; she could definitely see the resemblance – same face structure, same haunting blue eyes, same dark brown hair, though Mel's was much longer, smooth and silky.
Predicting their next question, Mike continued. "And this is Tim... my nephew."
He looks guilty, Kate thought. Why?
The boy was about five, and she could see why he had instantly introduced Mel as his sister – if he hadn't, money would have changed hands on whether the nipper was his own. Because the boy was already tanned, with deep grey-blue eyes and short, ruffled hair. Baby Mike.
Nephew, Kate reminded herself. Don't get jealous... nothing to get angry about, anyway. She had to breathe deeply, and keep her emotions in check. He's not yours anymore.
That night, Mel and Mike left early, Mel insisting that she had to talk to him about something. After another fifteen minutes, Kate grew tired of the increasingly rowdy boys and made her own farewells. She walked outside, the cool night breeze jolting her away from her thoughts with the effectiveness of a cold shower.
She hadn't drunk much, and aimed for her car, but before she turned around the side of the pub, she heard Mike's voice.
"I don't think you needed to come up here –"
"You weren't returning my calls, my emails... you can't block us out of your life, Michael!"
Kate hid a smile. She'd never heard anyone call him Michael before.
"I'm not trying... I just... not now. I can't deal with this now. And waiting for me on the pier? Now how am I supposed to explain that?"
"However you like, but Michael, I don't know why you're hiding this from them!"
"They don't need to know. It's not –"
"What is wrong with them knowing you have a son?"
"I can't look after him. I can't. That's why I left him with you..."
Kate had heard enough. She backtracked, went around the other side of the pub, and climbed into her car, breathing heavily.
Mike had a son. A five year old son.
He must have been conceived about six years ago.
Six years ago, he was going out with her.