Disclaimers: This is an AU work of fiction I was inspired/asked to write concerning what might happen if Lana and Thredson had a daughter. Let me say that I do not side with Oliver Thredson, I don't think Lana Winters is a bad person, etc. This isn't a political statement. It's just a story. I don't own anything but the child and my very twisted mind.

Spoilers: Kind of 2X09, "The Coat Hanger". Not really.

Title borrowed from "Viva la Gloria" by Greenday.

She sits at the kitchen table, swinging her legs from the chair as he reads the newspaper. The radio is playing quietly in the background, talking about a place she's never been to and problems that she doesn't understand. To her, the world is no larger than the town she lives in, and the only people in power are her teachers, her principal, and her daddy.

She glances up at him, her dark eyes the same color as his. She cannot see him from behind the newspaper at first, but it feels like he sees her watching, and he lowers his paper just a little.

"Hi, Daddy," she smiles big.

"Hi, Livvy," he smiles back at her.

She loves when he calls her by her most favorite nickname. He's called her that since she's been a little baby, when she couldn't even walk or talk and now when he uses it she knows he's in an extra nice mood and it always makes her smile.

She clutches the pencil she is holding in her left hand, tapping it on the paper in front of her.

"I don't like practicing writing my letters," she decides out loud, "It's stupid."

He lays the newspaper down on the table, raising an eyebrow at her over his glasses. His eyebrows look like furry caterpillars and they always make her laugh, so she giggles a little now.

"It's not stupid, pumpkin. You need to learn your alphabet if you want to grow up and become a doctor like Daddy."

Olivia smiles again because that is what she wants more than anything in the whole wide world. She knows Daddy is a great doctor and he helps people every day. She wants to be just like him when he grows up.

"I can't make the letters right, though," she protests, and he reaches his big hands out, taking the workbook she's using and turning it to face him. He studies it for a moment, the furry caterpillars lowering like they do when he thinks hard.

"I see the problem. Come over here." He pats his leg and she comes around, climbing into his lap. His big, strong arms come around her and he helps her grasp her pencil in her left hand. Daddy says it's special that she writes with her left hand because not many people do, but that some day she might want to learn to write with her other hand, too.

"You're starting some of your letters backwards, that's why you're having trouble." Gently gripping her small hand within his, he helps her write the letter correctly a few times before he asks her to do one by herself. She concentrates very hard, lowering her eyebrows like he did until she finally, finally makes a capital G all by herself.

He smiles brightly at her and her heart feels happy that she has made him happy. That's all she wants.

"Let me see you write your name," he tells her, and she holds her pencil carefully against the paper, making one letter at a time. It takes her a minute, but she finally does it and sits back to look at her work. O-l-i-v-i-a. He reads it out loud and she feels proud of her hard work.

"Good work, baby. How about your last name?"

She feels scared for a minute because she knows what her last name is but she always forgets the two letters that make the sound at the beginning. She's still learning how to write and spell and she's only six-years-old. She doesn't want him to know that she doesn't know how to spell her last name, but he must know because he asks her about why she's being so quiet.

"Do you remember how to start it?" He asks, and she shakes her heads, tears in her eyes.

"I don't remember the letters," she admits quietly, feeling sad. His warm fingers touch her chin, lifting her face to his.

"Don't get sad," he tells her seriously, "You learn from your mistakes. That's what Daddy tells you all the time, right?"

She nods, feeling a little silly, and he smiles at her.

"Let's write it together."

He holds her hand as they write out their last name, making the letters big and straight just like her teacher asks her to do. When they're finished, their hands come away from the paper and she smiles as her first and last name come together. She points a tiny finger to each letter, saying it out loud. O-l-i-v-i-a T-h-r-e-d-s-o-n.

He smiles down at her again and pats her leg. She slips off his lap and goes back to her spot on the other side of the table. She digs into her school bag and finds her folder, pulling it out. She finds a note from her teacher, and a big white piece of paper with nothing written on it. As she looks at it, she remembers her home work over the long weekend and her belly starts to feel sick and sad.

Daddy must see the way she feels from his chair, because he asks her what's wrong, and she is quiet. She doesn't want to talk about it, because she knows she isn't supposed to. She tries to be a good girl and get her crayons out to start working, but Daddy's too smart to let her trick him. He reaches for the paper and she sees his dark eyes reading the words on the paper before he looks at her again.

"You're supposed to draw a picture of your family," he smiles at her, "I guess that means you and me, huh?"

She nods a little, taking the paper back and quietly beginning to draw herself on the paper. She uses a brown crayon to draw herself, her eyes, and her curly brown hair. She is almost ready to start working on drawing her favorite blue dress when she stops and puts the crayon down.

"Daddy," she says his name again, and she is a little bit afraid, but more curious. He takes a drink from his coffee cup and looks at her. "My friend Lizzie at school said I'm weird because I don't have a mommy, and..." she tries to keep her voice from breaking with tears, "I don't think I'm weird. But I don't think it's fair. Why didn't my mommy want me?"

His eyes are darker than they were before, and he looks very serious now. She knows that she's not supposed to talk about her mommy, but she's been thinking about it for a long time and now that she's in school, she sees other mommies all the time. But never hers.

"Olivia, you know we've talked about this," he tells her. She knows, but she wants to hear about it again.

"Why was she so mad at me?" She asks, her dark eyes filling with tears. "I was just a little baby in her belly, I didn't even say anything mean to her or stick my tongue out at her."

"Pumpkin," he says her second favorite nickname, trying to make her feel better, but it doesn't help. Instead, he pats his leg again and she comes over to climb into his lap. He holds her tight and she smells him. He smells so good. "Your mommy didn't want you. She couldn't keep you."

"Why not?" She asks, putting her head against his clean white shirt.

"Mommy didn't like Daddy very much," he tells her quietly, "And so she didn't like having a baby in her belly very much." She sits a little bit slouchy in his lap. What he's saying makes her feel very sad. "But," he says, touching her cheek again, "Daddy wanted you. Daddy always wanted you."

She looks up at him.

"Are you going to decide you don't want me, too?" She asks, and she is scared.

He shakes his head.

"No, Livvy. Never." He kisses her softly on her head. "You'll always be my little girl."

This makes her feel a little bit better, so she tries to be brave and smile at him.

"One day, when I'm bigger," she says carefully, "will you tell me more about my mommy?"

He is quiet for a minute, but finally says, "Yes, when you're bigger."

She sits in his lap and he hugs her for a little bit before he pulls away and looks into her face, smiling. He is so handsome, she knows she has the most handomest daddy in the world. Even if she doesn't have a mommy.

"Hey," he starts to talk to her in a very quiet voice, "I want to tell you a secret."

Her eyes get big and excited. She loves secrets.

"What is it?" She whispers to him. He smiles again.

"You can't tell anyone," he tells her, and she nods quickly.

"I won't, Daddy, I promise!"

"I think you're old enough now," he says, and his voice sounds funny, but she is still excited. He stands up, gently taking her hand and leading her through the house to the basement door. She stops because she knows the basement door is locked and she is never supposed to go into the basement. That's been a rule for forever.

"It's okay," he tugs gently on her hand. "You're a big girl now."

She stands back and watches him unlock the door before pushing it open. There is a big set of steps and a part of the house she has never seen before. He holds her hand while they go down the steps and she stops at the bottom. There is a big curtain in the middle of the room, lots of doctor tools and shiny things. He looks down at her and sees that she is feeling a little scared, so he bends down next to her, his hands holding her arms.

"Hey, no," he tells her gently, shaking his head, "Don't be scared. This is a good thing." He smiles at her, and she feels better. He holds her hand and takes her to the curtain, pulling it back slowly and quietly. Inside the curtain, there is a bed. A pretty lady is sleeping in the bed. She has dark hair but Olivia can't see what color her eyes are because she has them closed.

"Who is that?" She asks quietly, looking at the lady in the bed. Daddy leans down next to her again.

"Her name is Amber," he tells her quietly, "She's sick, but Daddy is helping her be better."

Olivia looks at Daddy, smiling big.

"Really? She's your patient?"

He nods, smiling too.

"She is. And you know what?" His voice is still quiet, and Olivia is trying to be quiet, too, but it's hard because she's so excited.

"What?" She whispers back.

"I think you're big enough to work with Daddy now. You can be my nurse."

"Okay!" She says it a little too loud, and Daddy tries to remind her to be quiet by putting a finger over his lips. "What can I do?"

"Well," he says quietly, "She's probably getting hungry, so we have to fix her lunch for when she wakes up."

"Okay," Olivia whispers back, still looking at the sleeping lady. "What's wrong with her, Daddy?"

He looks at the lady for what feels like a long time before looking back at Olivia.

"She forgot who she was," he tells her, still in a quiet voice, "She can't remember that she knows Daddy, but she does. I have to help her remember."

"How does she know you?" Olivia asks.

Daddy smiles as bright as sunshine down at her, and she smiles too.

"From a long, long time ago," he tells her, " when Daddy was a baby. Before you were ever born. You don't ever have to worry about that."

They head back towards the stairs, and she holds onto the bannister to make sure she doesn't fall down.

"Is she going to be here for a long time?" She asks as they get upstairs and shut the basement door again.

"I don't know, Livvy," he says, his face as handsome as ever. "Would you like her to stay?"

Olivia thinks for a minute and then nods.

"Yes. I would."

"Then she will," he tells her as they walk to the kitchen. She climbs up onto a chair to get the bread from the cabinet. "But," he says, standing right next to her, "if she does decide to go away, don't worry. Another lady will always come."

"And I still get to be the nurse?" Olivia asks, looking up at him.

He nods, brushing her curly hair behind her ears, still smiling so big.

"Yep. And one day, when you're ready, you'll get to be the doctor."