She'd heard it all. She'd heard the entire ordeal between father and daughter and was surprised at herself when tears sprang to her eyes. When Christine saw both boys watching her with wide eyes, she reached up and yanked the secure from her hair so that blond curls tumbled down around her face and shoulders. How humiliating. For some strange reason Christine couldn't put her finger on, she wanted almost desperately for Paris to approve of her whether she was with her father or not.

She'd not noticed Michael move back into the kitchen next to her and when he cleared her throat, she turned her face as far away from him as she could without being rude about it. She was humiliated and mortified and she was sure there wasn't anything he could say at the moment to make it right. However, she would not put it passed him to try. He sat down next to her, rested his hand on hers. She drew back and stood up, still hiding behind her wild mane of hair.

"I need a walk." Christine mumbled, hardly audible and Michael nodded with a small sigh. She left the kitchen, the house all together and made her way, slowly, down to Michael's rather large amusement park. Nothing was running and Christine didn't want to bother anyone to start it up so she settled for the simple swing set. It was secluded, (well, more so than the rest of the park) and swings always seemed to be a good spot to just think.

Why did she want so badly for Paris to approve of her? She was only a little girl, after all. And she wasn't used to having a lot of women a lot, particularly one who was living with them and seemed to have a keen interest in her father. Christine toed the ground so that she moved back and fourth in the swing.

She jumped when she felt hands on her waist and turned to see Michael just as he pushed her in the swing and she took off from the ground. Her heart raced, still taken by surprise by Michael's sudden appearance. She hadn't even heard him come up to her nor did she see him walking toward her. She was quickly headed back toward the ground where he stopped her with his hands on the swing chains. Christine didn't look back at him, she didn't say a word. She could tell that Michael was getting more uncomfortable as each awkward, silent moment passed. Finally he took a deep breath and, without letting go of the swing so she couldn't run, he moved to kneel in front of her. She looked away again and he grew frustrated. Gently, but with authority, he took hold of her chin and drew her face to his so that he could place a still gentle but firm kiss on her mouth.

"I'm sorry." He said. Christine bit her lip, but with her chin still between his fingers, she couldn't look away properly and simply averting her eyes gave her a headache.

"I'm…not mad at you." She said softly. He looked taken aback, but quickly composed himself. "I'm mad at myself for allowing myself to be affected. I don't know why I give her so much credit." Michael let out a short breath of frustration and shook his head.

"She's used to having me all to herself." He explained. "And now I'm going to be gone a lot of with the tours and rehearsals and she doesn't want to share me at all." Christine simply nodded. She wouldn't voice what she really thought: that Paris was being very selfish but she didn't want to hurt Michael's feelings. He stood, sighing one more time, and offered his hand to her. She chewed her lower lip and reluctantly took his hand.

Back inside, everyone had evacuated the kitchen and inhabited other parts of the house. Christine was glad for this; she really didn't want them staring at her. She sat down in the spot she'd previously occupied and examined her hands while Michael worked in the refrigerator behind her.

Christine woke up with a headache and didn't sit up for several minutes until her door opened and she heard footsteps headed toward her bed. Please no… She thought to herself. Just let me sleep a little longer. But she knew she had to get up. The previous morning, she'd agreed to accompany her boss to his rehearsals. The bed sank next to her and she reluctantly opened her eyes, one at a time. And she was immediately assaulted by bright sunlight. Christine clapped her hands to her eyes in an attempt to block it out and still the pain throbbing in her temples. She felt one large hand, Michael's, rub soft circles on her stomach and she tried to open her eyes again, slowly.

He smiled down at her and she remembered again just how much she liked his smile. Christine couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from tugging up into an expression that mirrored his. Michael leaned down (she forgot to warn him about her morning breath) and pressed his mouth to hers. She reacted immediately, reaching up to tie her arms around his neck and was just about to pull him next to her when she felt him smile against her lips. He reached behind his neck and disentangled her arms from him, then stood with a wide grin.

"Time to get up, sleeping beauty. We've got a long, busy day ahead of us and I need my doctor to be focused." She saluted him and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She still only slept in her over sized T-shirt, leaving her legs very bare and exposed. Michael's eyes lingered on them and this time, he didn't bother with being modest. A deep blush suffused Christine's whole body (or so that's how It felt) and she had to stop herself from covering back up. He's seen me naked. She reminded herself. When she looked up, she saw something unfamiliar in his eyes. A hunger.

A hunger for her.

For what they'd done the other night while drunk.

For unadulterated satisfaction.

Oh, yes. Christine saw this and immediately stood up, placing both hands on his chest and forced him to walk backwards out of the room. He protested adamantly and pouted-Pouted!-when she turned from him and closed the door halfway.

"If you want to leave on time, you can't start this now." She scolded him, a smirk playing on her lips. He forced her door open just a little more and pressed himself close to her, just enough to steel a kiss before she shut him out of the room and, laughing to herself, got dressed.

Michael turned and came face-to-face with his daughter. She looked disgruntled, her hands on her hips, her hair in a messy pony tail, her eyes heavily lidded. She looked as though she hadn't slept a wink and Michael's eyebrows knitted together in concern. Behind the fatigue, the obvious lack of sleep and the even more obvious need of a good wash, she looked absolutely and completely pissed off. At him.

"So, that's what this is about? You brought her here for that?" He simply stared blankly at her, arms at his side, mouth slightly agape while she scoffed and sassed her way back down the hall toward the kitchen. He wasn't sure what that was about, but he would be damned if the girl wasn't going to have a good talking to when he got home that night.

Christine insisted on driving. She assured him that she hated being driven around and that if he had a chauffer shuttle them everywhere, she'd lose her mind with lack of control. At this, he got into the car without an argument and remained quiet while she turned the radio up. And had to turn it back down when her phone rang. She shot him an apologetic look, to which he shrugged and she answered her phone with a song-songy "Hello?" It put a smile on Christine's lips.

"Daddy! It's still early, what are you doing up?" A short pause and a grin stretched across her face while she spoke with the phone in one hand whilst the other controlled the car. He felt oddly at ease with this, but oddly uneasy with his ease.

"I miss you, too." Christine said and her face melted into a pout that made Michael's hands itch with need.

Need for her.

He had to stop. She was turning him into a love-sick teenaged boy and he had to get proper control of himself. He had work to do, after all. After five minutes of blocking out the conversation she had with her father, Christine finally hung up the phone and turned to look at him briefly.

"Are you alright?" She asked him. "You look like you're in pain." The playful expression she'd had whilst on the phone was gone and she looked worried, ready to pull the car over and dig into her medical supplies. He noted the immediate change from personal to professional and whatever pain had been showing on his face from an ailment that couldn't be publicly treated vanished. She breathed a soft sigh and turned back to the road.