Title: It's A Father Thing
Summary: Derek Venturi had it all – a high paying job as one of Canada's hottest hockey players as well as the team captain, wonderfully excessive and expensive apartment, and beautiful girls clinging to his every whim. His life was going perfectly so who knew that a little eight year old girl could change all of that? Armed with a birth certificate with his name on it, little Hannah Sophia is determined to meet the father she never knew.
A/N: This is basically like The Game Plan but with my own added stuff to it. I do not own LWD despite how much I wish I did, or at least wish I owned Michael S. I also don't own The Game Plan or the ideas I got from that movie. Anyways, please read and review. Reviews make me happy!
Rating: T for mostly language and content
Warning: Derek does curse a lot in this story and some of the hockey players don't have the cleanest mouths.
"God damn it," Derek Venturi cursed under his breath as the light streaming in from the curtains hit his eyes. His head was throbbing and the light didn't help. As he looked around, he found that he was in the living room and there was trash scattered every where. What had happened last night? Derek struggled to remember what had taken place last night; then it hit him – his party. He had just celebrated his twenty-seventh birthday and had invited some friends over. Of course "some friends" by his definition meant about a hundred people. There had been lots of food and lots of drinks. Drinks! Derek suddenly remembered it all. Maybe he shouldn't have had that eighth glass of champagne. Oh well, he thought as he launched himself from the couch, no regrets, remember that Venturi.
He began to make his way over to the kitchen through the trash. He was careful where he stepped and finally, after much hesitation, he made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. It was exactly eight o'clock – time for his smoothie. As he began to pour in milk, raw eggs, tuna, and wheat grass into the blender, the doorbell rang. Once again, Derek cursed under his breath. Eight o'clock was way too early for visitors in his opinion, hangover or not.
He made his way over to the front door and peered out the peephole. There was no one there – or at least no one he could see. Rolling his eyes, he began to turn to go back to his smoothie when the doorbell once again rang.
"What do you want?" Derek shouted as the door swung open.
"Hi," said a little girl dressed smartly in a pink plaid skirt, pale pink tights, pale pink paten leather shoes, and a matching pink plaid jacket. She looked exactly like a little business woman and instantly, Derek was angry. He had no time for kids!
"Look," he said, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, "It's early – too early – and I have a hangover and am far too busy to buy girl scout cookies so if you'll just scoot off back to your Mum…"
"I'm not selling girl scout cookies," the little girl shook her head and let her pale brown curls fall past her shoulders, "I'm here to see you!"
"Oh," Derek hit himself in the head for his own stupidity. The instantaneous pain made him quickly regret his decision and he winced.
"Are you okay?" The little girl asked.
"Yes. Now then, I'll just go get a pen and a piece of paper and give you your autograph. What's your name?"
"Hannah Sophia. But I'm not here for an autograph."
"Look, kid, you're making me late for my smoothie and if I'm late for my smoothie I'll be late for my work out and if I'm late for my work out I'll be late to practice and if I'm late to practice, Coach will kick my ass and if Coach kicks my ass I can't play in Friday's game so…" Derek waved his hand as if shoeing a dog away, "Run along."
"I…I'm sorry I came at a bad time. Maybe I should come back another time."
"Yes, well…no!" Derek quickly corrected himself, "No. Don't come back some other time! I'm a very busy man and I have no time to deal with kids. Hell, I don't even like kids!"
"I…I'm sorry," the little girl bowed her head, "I…I'll just be going. But can I borrow your phone for a moment?"
"No," Derek shot her a look, "You may not."
"But I need to call a sitter."
"A sitter?" Derek raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, you see my mom is out of town and I need to stay with someone. I can't stay at home all by myself!"
"Then why'd you come here? Wait a sec…did you come here all by yourself?"
"Yes," she nodded practically.
"Damn," Derek hissed, "What do you want?"
"I…I wanted someone to stay with."
"So you came to me?" Derek asked.
"Why?" He was beginning to grow impatient with the little girl.
"Because," she looked down at her shoes for a moment before continuing, "You're…you're my dad."
"What?" Derek's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he chocked on the word.
"You are my dad."
"No, no, no, no!" Derek held up his hands as if in a surrender, "That…that just can't be. It…it just can't!"
"But you are. I have a birth certificate to prove it and everything!"
"Shit," Derek hissed before regaining his composure, "Alright, let's see this said birth certificate."
"Here you go," Hannah said, handing him a manila folder, "It should be there on top. Your signature is there on the bottom…"
"My signature isn't on here," Derek scoffed as he skimmed the piece of paper, "Holy shit!"
"You said a bad word."
"Yeah I did and I'm fixing to say a lot more of them if you don't get the hell out of my house!"
"I…I'm sorry," her big blue eyes began to fill with tears as she wiped at her nose, "I…I shouldn't have come."
"Yeah, you're damn right you shouldn't. Now, you have three seconds to get out of my apartment. God! I can't believe people like this! Sending their own kid in here to pretend to be my kid in order to get some of my money! How much more fucked up could people get? Oh my God! One! I can't believe this! Two! What were your parents thinking? Three!" And with that, the little girl hurried out of the apartment with tears in her eyes.
Derek scoffed as he bawled up the birth certificate and tossed it to the floor. Crazy kids and their fucked up parents! Trying to pass them off as my own so that I will have to give them money once a month! How completely fucked up…Derek was continuing to scoff when his bulldog, Chevy walked over towards the crumpled up paper and brought it over to his feet. With a bark, Chevy alerted the man of the dog slob soaked paper.
"What? No, not now Chevy," Derek rolled his eyes, "I don't want to deal with this!" After another bark, Derek bent down and picked up the wet paper, "This is probably fake anyways. Do you know how easy it is for people to forge things like this, Chevy? I mean, really! Let's just see who this girl's mother is and I'll get my manager to raise hell on her ass…" Derek's eyes widened as his eyes fell upon the name, "Oh. My. God. No. No. No. No. No! This is not fucking happening! This is not fucking happening!" Derek's voice was beginning to get louder and louder, "Casey McDonald. Casey-Fucking-McDonald!" Derek found himself laughing at the sheer stupidity of the whole thing, "Casey McDonald!" Suddenly, his laughter ceased and his face fell, "Oh shit."
"Don't be ridiculous, love," Susan Summers laughed into the phone, "This girl couldn't possibly yours, could she?"
"No…of course not!"
"Good," Susan smiled, "Now then, calm down. Drink a smoothie and work off all this stress. I can't have you falling behind, can I?"
"No," Derek rolled his eyes at his manager's shrill voice.
"Great. And honey, relax. There is no way that this…Casey McDonald's child could be yours." There was no response, "Derek? Derek love? There is no chance this child is yours, is there?"
"No, of course not," Derek scoffed, "I mean, why…how? It…it just can't be."
"Good. Now then, go on with your day as if nothing happened. If you want me to, I'll call our lawyer and have this Casey McDonald sued off her ass for trying to pass off her kid as yours."
"Nah," Derek shook his head, "That's okay."
"Okay well just try and relax. Put this nonsense behind you."
"Well, I'll see you later love. Call me!" Silence was her only reply, "Derek? Derek darling? Are you there love?"
"Yeah, Derek darling?"
"I…I want a DNA test."