Title: Drunk On You
Synopsis: Sexy country boy handyman Jack Brewer was living a lazy life before whirlwind city girl Kim Crawford got stranded in town. When there's no room at the only motel he's stuck with the blonde spitfire for a month, utterly convinced it'll be the worst month of his life. Despite his best efforts he falls for the petite golden haired dancer but is convinced he isn't good enough for her. Can Kim manage to change his mind?
Pairings: Jack/Kim, Milton/Julie, Jerry/Mika, Eddie/Grace, Bobby Wasabi/Joan. Rudy/Ty, Jack/Jerry/Milton/Eddie bromances. Eddie never really left the Wasabi Warriors-I keep expecting him to pop up but of course he doesn't…*sniffs* The title idea came from Luke Bryan's song Drunk On You.
So I suppose this is incredibly stupid because I still have to finish Ain't No Sunshine and Jackeo & Kiminet but I've always wanted to switch the whole 'Kim's a Southern Belle' thing on its head. And Kickin' It is ending (WHY?) so this is my way of stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the fact. Ha.
Disclaimer: IF I OWNED KICKIN' IT THERE IS NO WAY IT WOULD EVER CANCEL. EVER.
I'm a little drunk on you, and high on summertime
-Luke Bryan, Drunk On You
Tilting his black Stetson further back onto his head, twenty-seven year old Jack Brewer tongued a toothpick, strong knee bent upon the cold tiled floor of the hospital, working steadily as he quietly listened to the conversations of the passing doctors, nurses, visitors, and patients.
His worn jeans, dark boots, and pale purple plaid shirt identified him as a man who made an honest, if not rich living. His burnished mahogany hair curled over the shirt color, with almost identical dark moles winking as he turned his head to pick up a pair of tweezers, intent on fixing the inside wires of the wall plug. Aware of the awkward position, his long muscled form for passing cots and the like, Jack shifted, attempting to press his lanky body even closer into the dull wall, straining to finish his task.
Within a few more minutes, the tweezer returned to its place in his rusty red toolbox, job finished. Satisfied, Jack stood up with a groan, rolling his powerful shoulders for a minute to stretch out the kinks that the short, uncomfortable job had given him, before setting off down the hall with a purpose and cheerfulness that one scarcely saw in such a frequently sad place.
After a bit he paused briefly in his journey to the front desk, reaching out a tan hand to grab at the arm of a passing doctor.
Pale blue met coffee brown as the doctor, the one and only Milton Krupnick, looked up at his long known friend, a smile creasing the frequently worried face of the cardiologist, freckles lifting and ginger brown hair sparking.
"You fixed up the socket?" the doctor inquired, tucking his clipboard under his arm and giving his full, blue scrubbed attention to the one-inch-taller but one-year-younger best friend. "Goodness knows Marge has been after me long enough to get you to fix it."
The only Brewer left in Georgia cracked a smile at the mention of their mutual, mothering nurse friend and laughed.
"Yeah, Marge's always seems to have something up her ass when something ain't right in her hospital; you tell her I covered it, okay?"
"Will do." The properly-grammified doctor nodded, slight Georgian accent peeking out of the educationally-affected speech. "You going home now?"
"Yep," Jack lifted his hat and ran one hand through the long thick brown locks that Milton's wife, Julie, had offered to cut many times. "Kelly's gonna start getting antsy if I stay away too long. I'm usually home by six, y'know. And I've got a strong hankerin' for some of Mika and Jerry's home cooking and they close at seven."
"See you tomorrow then, brother," Milton returned, referring to Jack's steady job fixing up the old but faithful hospital's electrical issues. The men parted with a brief look, and the brunette resumed his path to the welcome desk, looking forward to saying goodbye to the three young ladies that checked in the ill patients of Landford, Georgia.
There were three of them-Erica Straffman, Milton's wife Julie, and Claire Weathers. All very close in age (26, 28, and 23 respectively), they were the most amusing nurse/secretaries Jack knew, and their antics regularly amused him. That, and their habit of cooking his bachelor self amazing home cooking, almost as good as the cooking he was in fact going to ingest later.
Erica Straffman was a slightly bitter college dropout with a sharp tongue, but great sense of humor. Even the doctors knew not to mess with the no-nonsense auburn haired woman, but her soft spot for crying wives and girlfriends was just as well known. That, and the fact that her pulled pork rivaled Mika Martinez's.
Julie Krupnick was the one of sweetest women Jack had ever met, and her apple pie was just as cavity inducing-she worried the most about the fact that Jack was being a bachelor, and constantly tried to set him up with everyone she could. When one says everyone, one means everyone.
Considering the fact that Jack's cousin Claire had once been Julie's competition, regarding Jack's ginger haired best friend, the two bonded over weird particulars, like stitching and ladies golf, oddly enough. Her long, curly, penny-shined hair had half of the young male nurses and doctors falling all over themselves to do her bidding, despite her engagement to rising business manager, Brody Carlson.
"I'm heading out for the night, little misses," Jack teased the group of women with his pet name for the group, placing his somewhat heavy toolbox on the clean marble countertop. "I need to sign out."
"Oh, Jackson," Julie tittered, using his full name. "You're absolutely sure none of the new nurses was purty enough to catch your eye? That nice doctor Donna Tobin was asking about you."
The strong man in front of her gave a bark of a laugh, scrawling a signature surprisingly loopy for a man on the offered paper, lifting his toolbox again in preparation for departure.
"Missus Krupnick, you know how I feel about hoity-toity visiting doctor Donna Tobin. She may have mile long legs," he interrupted himself, to give a whistle of appreciation that made even stoic Erica laugh. "But her personality's been hit with the ugly stick, I swear."
"Be careful!" Ever thoughtful Claire called after him, shaking her head amusedly at the six-foot tall man waving backwards to them. "Oh you," she murmured to herself, internally agreeing with Julie.
Their Jackie needed a woman. A woman that could rein in his impulsive ways and soften his sharp edges, cut by a past that Claire, even as a relatively distant cousin, knew all too well. A woman that could show him that life was more than just work, beer, and hunting with that dang dog of his. A woman that could teach him the beauty that was in the sunrise, and make him appreciate the little things that his heart had been denied at such a sadly young age.
Claire only hoped that the miracle woman would come soon, because her cousin really needed a kick in the pants about what life was all about. You can't stay single forever, you know. It's incredibly unhealthy.