Mocha 2 & CCM 1
Author: Casey
Story: Shifts Post Shifts (see Marina for more Shifts goodness)
Challenge: Mocha 2 (a song stuck in my head) & CCM 1 (shiny)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel, Sprinkles (Grayson never gets a POV, poor dear)
Word Count: 1,968
Rating: G
Summary: Grayson has a typical day at work and then a not so typical day after.
Notes: Yes, I’m delving into Shifts/Tremors territory all by myself. You wouldn’t know it, but Marina and I did jointly create this universe ;) I had a couple stray CCM and Mocha prompts that fit the Shifts crowd to a T. So there’s this one and another coming next week. Ellen is Drew’s younger sister, who none of them met until she was ten. Also, this got totally out of hand, but I'm happy with it :D
Grayson set down the phone and stared at it for a minute without moving until the shriek of a child distracted him. He hopped up, slid over his desk - which was safely devoid of objects for just that reason - and dropped down on the other side, all traces of the thoughtfulness having vanished. He bounded out his open door.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he skipped into the midst of his job’s newest mess.
Two small children, obviously close in age, were clinging to a middle aged woman’s legs, with the younger one crying and the older just looking desperate to Grayson’s trained eye.
“Grayson! Perfect timing,” said his boss, Henrietta Stone, the specialized school’s principle. “Mrs. Donovan, this is Mr. Marsh. He’s the head of our psychology staff here.”
“Mister?” she repeated dubiously, eyeing him.
“I trust him completely with our students,” Henrietta said before Grayson could open his mouth, which was probably a smart thing and just proved she knew him very well. “Not all psychologists need a medical degree. That does not make them less qualified.”
Actually, it did, Grayson thought in amusement, but he’d never been scholar and he’d sort of fallen into this job. It had been tough enough getting through graduate school.
“Grayson, this is Anne and Max Donovan. Max will be starting Kindergarten next month and Anne will be in our full day Jump Start preschool. I need to talk to Mrs. Donovan for a little while. Could you...?”
He caught the slight emphasis at ‘full’ and glanced at Mrs. Donovan for a moment before answering. “My pleasure,” Grayson said, the little girl’s crying having petered off since his arrival. He crouched down to their level. “Hi Max. Hi Anne. My name’s Grayson. Your mom needs to talk to Miss Henrietta for a little bit. Have you seen your classrooms yet?”
“No,” Max said and then scowled. “There’s nothin’ wrong with me and Anne.”
Grayson sat back a bit and regarded the five-year-old, ignoring the mother’s sharp, wet intake of breath. “Why do you say that?”
“Cuz this is a school for kids with problems. We don’t have problems.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have any problem leaving your mom for a while.”
“Mr. Marsh,” the mother started, but Henrietta’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
Max eyed Grayson for another moment before taking his sister’s hand. “C’mon, Annie, let’s go see our classrooms.”
Grayson grinned, bouncing to his feet. “If we’re quick, we can probably find time for the playground tour too.”
Both children brightened, although Max tried to hide it behind a continued scowl. Grayson bounced along the hall, humming and singing snatches from Shrek the Musical, which he had been listening to before the phone call. He could feel the two children’s eyes on his back, but he ignored them until he reached the preschool room. “All right, Anne, this will be your room,” he said, pushing open the door.
After a quick tour and a rewarding smile from the younger sibling, they headed down the hall to the Kindergarten room and, with some cajoling, Max was convinced to explore the room, his sister skipping from area to area ahead of him. Finally, the three of them trooped out to the playground. Anne’s eyes went wide and she took off to the equipment with a whoop. Grayson expected Max to follow - the sun glinting invitingly off the slides - but instead, the boy went over to the nearest picnic table, clambered up it and parked himself.
At this unusual action for a five-year-old, all of Grayson’s alarm bells started going off, so he went over and plopped himself down at the boy’s side. “Not going to play?”
“It’s my job to watch Annie,” Max said.
“That’s a problem,” Grayson pointed out, having gotten a fairly good read off the boy at that point.
Max frowned. “No, s’not. She’s my little sister.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to play too.”
“I do,” Max said defensively.
“So go play, Max. I’m here. I can watch her...and you.”
“S’not your job.”
“Shouldn’t be yours either,” Grayson shot back. “And I’m an adult who works at a school. That makes it my job.”
The boy shifted, watching his sister climb up the steps to the big twirly slide. “It’s not Mom if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good,” Max said flatly.
“Is it Dad?”
Now there was silence. Then, finally, “I’m gonna go play.”
“Have fun. You don’t need to watch anyone today, Max.”
The five-year-old looked up at him. “Miss Henrietta said that we have to see a psychologist every week. Am I going to see you?”
“Do you want to?” Grayson asked.
Max chewed on his lower lip for a minute before nodding. “Yes.”
“Then you will. And call her Miss Henry. It’s more fun.” He winked. “It’s what I call her.”
This time, he was rewarded with a brief, ghosting smile. “Thank you, Mr. Grayson.”
“It’s just Grayson, kiddo, now go play.”
Max hopped off the table and charged to go catch up to his sister.
A half hour later, Grayson found himself standing on the stoop of the school next to Henrietta, waving to the Donovan family as they left. “Max is mine,” Grayson told her.
“His choice or yours?”
“Both,” Grayson said with a grin. “Can I scoot out early, Henry? I got a phone call and it’s finally happening.”
Henrietta brightened, despite the normally disliked nickname, and patted him on the shoulder. “Of course you can, Grayson. And I’m so glad it’s finally happening!”
Grayson nodded, the butterflies starting to eat at his stomach now. He hopped back up to his office, scooped up his car keys and other needed items and then pulled his cell phone, dialing a well-known number and shoving his phone between his shoulder and ear as he headed for his car.
“Good afternoon, Grayson. Another work crisis?” Ellen answered.
“No. They called. It’s today.”
“Holy shit!” she said, swearing in a way that made Grayson proud but would have sent Drew into conniptions, although, he reflected, it wasn’t easy to get Ellen to swear. “How long have you known?”
“I got picked four months ago, but of course it hadn’t happened yet,” Grayson said, juggling his keys to get into his car.
“Grayson...”
“Yeah, I know I didn’t tell anyone, I don’t need a lecture,” he said lightly. “I’ll get enough of one of those from Rand and Lynne each.”
Ellen laughed. “So true. I assume your parents know?”
“Oh, yeah, they helped me with all the paperwork.”
“What do you need me to do? And I’m pleading ignorance once Drew gets wind of this!”
“Actually, could you...I don’t want to go alone.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone line as Grayson started his car so long that he got nervous. “Ellen?”
“Grayson Marsh. Are you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come. What hospital?”
“St. Catherine’s. South side.”
“Heading there now?”
Grayson laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
He could hear Ellen’s grin across the line. “I’ll leave right now, we should get there about the same time.”
**
Forty-five minutes later, Grayson pulled up outside St. Catherine’s hospital and got out, staring up at it, a goofy grin spreading across his face. This was it. This was what he had been working on for close to two years without telling anyone but his parents, Henry, and Ellen, and he hadn’t exactly kept Ellen up-to-date on happenings.
If he was being honest with himself, which was more often these days but still not horribly often, he was scared to death what his friends would say about his decision, but his parents and Ellen had talked him into it. It was his choice and his life.
And now not just his life. He had just reached the entrance to the hospital when he heard his name and spun, beaming at Ellen as she came running up, stuffing her keys into her purse. “Moral support here and accounted for!”
Grayson grinned. “You could be more than moral support.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Grayson, Drew’s not here to be scandalized.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, offering his arm as he waltzed and Ellen walked through the automatic doors. “So sorry.”
The adoption agent he had been working with was waiting for him inside and smiled, which Grayson appreciated as the sterile halls of the hospital were almost as blinding as the slides at the playground had been earlier. “Hello, Mr. Marsh.”
“Hi, Mr. Matheson, this is Ellen Gardiner, a friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you,” Matheson told Ellen, shaking her hand. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s go meet your son,” Matheson said. Grayson had known for months that it was going to be a boy - Matheson had called as soon as the mother had had the ultrasound to find out - but Ellen sucked in her breath and beamed.
“A boy! Do you have a name picked out?”
Grayson grinned. “I was thinking Nathan Marsh had a nice ring to it.”
“Nate,” she tried and nodded. “I like it.”
“Glad it meets your approval.”
Taking an elevator up to the maternity ward seemed to take ages and Grayson had to bounce in place to take out some of his anxiety. Finally, they were standing in front of the nursery. “There,” Mr. Matheson said, pointing. “Third bed back and two in on the left.”
Grayson followed his arm and spotted the small, already curly haired dark-skinned baby lying in that bed. “Nate,” he said softly and then tore his eyes away to look at Matheson. “How soon?”
“You’ll have to ask the doctors, but I believe there are no complications so just a few days. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to visit whenever you want.”
“The deal we made was that I got him from birth,” Grayson explained to Ellen, staring at little Nate again.
“He’s precious, Grayson,” Ellen said in a whisper.
He could only nod.
**
He had, of course, already worked it all out. There was already a Pack and Play crib in his office at work and his preschool centered co-workers were highly looking forward to a snuggly new baby. His apartment was big enough to have a room for little Nate and he had all the supplies he could ever need.
The trouble, of course, would be telling his friends, which would have to come soon, since he had just crossed the threshold into his apartment, Nate sleeping snuggly in his car seat, coming home for the first time.
**
The first night was both hell and wonderful at the same time. Nate woke no less than ten times during the course of the night, screaming his small head off each time until Grayson either shoved more formula down his throat or rocked him in the rocking chair- he had fond, if faint, memories of his mother rocking him in the same chair as a child. By the fourth time, Grayson just fell back into the rocking chair and fell asleep, forgoing his bed as a lost cause.
Around 3 a.m., Grayson woke and not to screams, but worried anyway, he stood and stepped over to Nate’s crib anyway, leaning on the edge and looking down at his son. His son.
As he stood there, Nate woke, but didn’t scream this time, just looking up at the man he would learn was ‘Dad’. Grayson leaned over and carefully picked him up, cradling him in his arms and quietly singing a very random mesh of lullabies, musicals and anything else that popped into his head.
Nate just watched him, eyelids eventually dropping, apparently accepting that he hadn’t gotten the most traditional of parents and not seeming to care in the least.
Story: Shifts Post Shifts (see Marina for more Shifts goodness)
Challenge: Mocha 2 (a song stuck in my head) & CCM 1 (shiny)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel, Sprinkles (Grayson never gets a POV, poor dear)
Word Count: 1,968
Rating: G
Summary: Grayson has a typical day at work and then a not so typical day after.
Notes: Yes, I’m delving into Shifts/Tremors territory all by myself. You wouldn’t know it, but Marina and I did jointly create this universe ;) I had a couple stray CCM and Mocha prompts that fit the Shifts crowd to a T. So there’s this one and another coming next week. Ellen is Drew’s younger sister, who none of them met until she was ten. Also, this got totally out of hand, but I'm happy with it :D
Grayson set down the phone and stared at it for a minute without moving until the shriek of a child distracted him. He hopped up, slid over his desk - which was safely devoid of objects for just that reason - and dropped down on the other side, all traces of the thoughtfulness having vanished. He bounded out his open door.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he skipped into the midst of his job’s newest mess.
Two small children, obviously close in age, were clinging to a middle aged woman’s legs, with the younger one crying and the older just looking desperate to Grayson’s trained eye.
“Grayson! Perfect timing,” said his boss, Henrietta Stone, the specialized school’s principle. “Mrs. Donovan, this is Mr. Marsh. He’s the head of our psychology staff here.”
“Mister?” she repeated dubiously, eyeing him.
“I trust him completely with our students,” Henrietta said before Grayson could open his mouth, which was probably a smart thing and just proved she knew him very well. “Not all psychologists need a medical degree. That does not make them less qualified.”
Actually, it did, Grayson thought in amusement, but he’d never been scholar and he’d sort of fallen into this job. It had been tough enough getting through graduate school.
“Grayson, this is Anne and Max Donovan. Max will be starting Kindergarten next month and Anne will be in our full day Jump Start preschool. I need to talk to Mrs. Donovan for a little while. Could you...?”
He caught the slight emphasis at ‘full’ and glanced at Mrs. Donovan for a moment before answering. “My pleasure,” Grayson said, the little girl’s crying having petered off since his arrival. He crouched down to their level. “Hi Max. Hi Anne. My name’s Grayson. Your mom needs to talk to Miss Henrietta for a little bit. Have you seen your classrooms yet?”
“No,” Max said and then scowled. “There’s nothin’ wrong with me and Anne.”
Grayson sat back a bit and regarded the five-year-old, ignoring the mother’s sharp, wet intake of breath. “Why do you say that?”
“Cuz this is a school for kids with problems. We don’t have problems.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have any problem leaving your mom for a while.”
“Mr. Marsh,” the mother started, but Henrietta’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
Max eyed Grayson for another moment before taking his sister’s hand. “C’mon, Annie, let’s go see our classrooms.”
Grayson grinned, bouncing to his feet. “If we’re quick, we can probably find time for the playground tour too.”
Both children brightened, although Max tried to hide it behind a continued scowl. Grayson bounced along the hall, humming and singing snatches from Shrek the Musical, which he had been listening to before the phone call. He could feel the two children’s eyes on his back, but he ignored them until he reached the preschool room. “All right, Anne, this will be your room,” he said, pushing open the door.
After a quick tour and a rewarding smile from the younger sibling, they headed down the hall to the Kindergarten room and, with some cajoling, Max was convinced to explore the room, his sister skipping from area to area ahead of him. Finally, the three of them trooped out to the playground. Anne’s eyes went wide and she took off to the equipment with a whoop. Grayson expected Max to follow - the sun glinting invitingly off the slides - but instead, the boy went over to the nearest picnic table, clambered up it and parked himself.
At this unusual action for a five-year-old, all of Grayson’s alarm bells started going off, so he went over and plopped himself down at the boy’s side. “Not going to play?”
“It’s my job to watch Annie,” Max said.
“That’s a problem,” Grayson pointed out, having gotten a fairly good read off the boy at that point.
Max frowned. “No, s’not. She’s my little sister.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to play too.”
“I do,” Max said defensively.
“So go play, Max. I’m here. I can watch her...and you.”
“S’not your job.”
“Shouldn’t be yours either,” Grayson shot back. “And I’m an adult who works at a school. That makes it my job.”
The boy shifted, watching his sister climb up the steps to the big twirly slide. “It’s not Mom if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Good,” Max said flatly.
“Is it Dad?”
Now there was silence. Then, finally, “I’m gonna go play.”
“Have fun. You don’t need to watch anyone today, Max.”
The five-year-old looked up at him. “Miss Henrietta said that we have to see a psychologist every week. Am I going to see you?”
“Do you want to?” Grayson asked.
Max chewed on his lower lip for a minute before nodding. “Yes.”
“Then you will. And call her Miss Henry. It’s more fun.” He winked. “It’s what I call her.”
This time, he was rewarded with a brief, ghosting smile. “Thank you, Mr. Grayson.”
“It’s just Grayson, kiddo, now go play.”
Max hopped off the table and charged to go catch up to his sister.
A half hour later, Grayson found himself standing on the stoop of the school next to Henrietta, waving to the Donovan family as they left. “Max is mine,” Grayson told her.
“His choice or yours?”
“Both,” Grayson said with a grin. “Can I scoot out early, Henry? I got a phone call and it’s finally happening.”
Henrietta brightened, despite the normally disliked nickname, and patted him on the shoulder. “Of course you can, Grayson. And I’m so glad it’s finally happening!”
Grayson nodded, the butterflies starting to eat at his stomach now. He hopped back up to his office, scooped up his car keys and other needed items and then pulled his cell phone, dialing a well-known number and shoving his phone between his shoulder and ear as he headed for his car.
“Good afternoon, Grayson. Another work crisis?” Ellen answered.
“No. They called. It’s today.”
“Holy shit!” she said, swearing in a way that made Grayson proud but would have sent Drew into conniptions, although, he reflected, it wasn’t easy to get Ellen to swear. “How long have you known?”
“I got picked four months ago, but of course it hadn’t happened yet,” Grayson said, juggling his keys to get into his car.
“Grayson...”
“Yeah, I know I didn’t tell anyone, I don’t need a lecture,” he said lightly. “I’ll get enough of one of those from Rand and Lynne each.”
Ellen laughed. “So true. I assume your parents know?”
“Oh, yeah, they helped me with all the paperwork.”
“What do you need me to do? And I’m pleading ignorance once Drew gets wind of this!”
“Actually, could you...I don’t want to go alone.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone line as Grayson started his car so long that he got nervous. “Ellen?”
“Grayson Marsh. Are you nervous?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come. What hospital?”
“St. Catherine’s. South side.”
“Heading there now?”
Grayson laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
He could hear Ellen’s grin across the line. “I’ll leave right now, we should get there about the same time.”
**
Forty-five minutes later, Grayson pulled up outside St. Catherine’s hospital and got out, staring up at it, a goofy grin spreading across his face. This was it. This was what he had been working on for close to two years without telling anyone but his parents, Henry, and Ellen, and he hadn’t exactly kept Ellen up-to-date on happenings.
If he was being honest with himself, which was more often these days but still not horribly often, he was scared to death what his friends would say about his decision, but his parents and Ellen had talked him into it. It was his choice and his life.
And now not just his life. He had just reached the entrance to the hospital when he heard his name and spun, beaming at Ellen as she came running up, stuffing her keys into her purse. “Moral support here and accounted for!”
Grayson grinned. “You could be more than moral support.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Grayson, Drew’s not here to be scandalized.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, offering his arm as he waltzed and Ellen walked through the automatic doors. “So sorry.”
The adoption agent he had been working with was waiting for him inside and smiled, which Grayson appreciated as the sterile halls of the hospital were almost as blinding as the slides at the playground had been earlier. “Hello, Mr. Marsh.”
“Hi, Mr. Matheson, this is Ellen Gardiner, a friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you,” Matheson told Ellen, shaking her hand. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s go meet your son,” Matheson said. Grayson had known for months that it was going to be a boy - Matheson had called as soon as the mother had had the ultrasound to find out - but Ellen sucked in her breath and beamed.
“A boy! Do you have a name picked out?”
Grayson grinned. “I was thinking Nathan Marsh had a nice ring to it.”
“Nate,” she tried and nodded. “I like it.”
“Glad it meets your approval.”
Taking an elevator up to the maternity ward seemed to take ages and Grayson had to bounce in place to take out some of his anxiety. Finally, they were standing in front of the nursery. “There,” Mr. Matheson said, pointing. “Third bed back and two in on the left.”
Grayson followed his arm and spotted the small, already curly haired dark-skinned baby lying in that bed. “Nate,” he said softly and then tore his eyes away to look at Matheson. “How soon?”
“You’ll have to ask the doctors, but I believe there are no complications so just a few days. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to visit whenever you want.”
“The deal we made was that I got him from birth,” Grayson explained to Ellen, staring at little Nate again.
“He’s precious, Grayson,” Ellen said in a whisper.
He could only nod.
**
He had, of course, already worked it all out. There was already a Pack and Play crib in his office at work and his preschool centered co-workers were highly looking forward to a snuggly new baby. His apartment was big enough to have a room for little Nate and he had all the supplies he could ever need.
The trouble, of course, would be telling his friends, which would have to come soon, since he had just crossed the threshold into his apartment, Nate sleeping snuggly in his car seat, coming home for the first time.
**
The first night was both hell and wonderful at the same time. Nate woke no less than ten times during the course of the night, screaming his small head off each time until Grayson either shoved more formula down his throat or rocked him in the rocking chair- he had fond, if faint, memories of his mother rocking him in the same chair as a child. By the fourth time, Grayson just fell back into the rocking chair and fell asleep, forgoing his bed as a lost cause.
Around 3 a.m., Grayson woke and not to screams, but worried anyway, he stood and stepped over to Nate’s crib anyway, leaning on the edge and looking down at his son. His son.
As he stood there, Nate woke, but didn’t scream this time, just looking up at the man he would learn was ‘Dad’. Grayson leaned over and carefully picked him up, cradling him in his arms and quietly singing a very random mesh of lullabies, musicals and anything else that popped into his head.
Nate just watched him, eyelids eventually dropping, apparently accepting that he hadn’t gotten the most traditional of parents and not seeming to care in the least.