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Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het.
Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,630 Views)
Verity
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The Story Girl
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I hope this chapter is not a fuck up chapter. If it is, it's because I'm hungry, but there's nothing to eat in the house. :blink:



Chapter 55- The Lovely Miss Philippa


“Hello,” Cecily said in her sweetest voice, as she came up next to the beautiful lady in the grass.

“Hi,” she replied, without even looking up from her book.

“What are you reading?” Cecily asked.

“A book,” she replied, still not even looking at Cecily.

“Is it a good book?” Cecily tried again.

“Not particularly,” replied the lady.

“Then why are you reading it?” Cecily asked.

Finally, the lady looked up from her book. She had the most lovely blue eyes that Cecily had ever seen. She gave Cecily a cursory glance and sighed

“Because I have to. It’s been assigned to me to read for school.”

“My Dad says that sometimes we don’t always get what we want in life,” said Cecily.

“He’s very right,” the lady replied. She went back to her book. Timidly, Cecily took a step closer to her, and plopped right down next to her in the grass. The lady looked up at Cecily, and half scowled at her. What on God’s green earth did this pesky kid want from her?

Cecily noticed that the beautiful lady was wearing a pearl bead ring on her finger.

“Did your boyfriend give you that ring?” she asked, gesturing towards the ring.

“Uh no,” replied the lady, raising her eyebrows.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Cecily jabbered, without making eye contact with the lady. She was much too nervous to do that. “I like a boy though,” she went on. “But he’s much too old for me.”

“Oh yeah?” the lady asked. “I think that you’re a little too young to be thinking about boyfriends.”

“His name is Kirk,” said Cecily. “He’s really dreamy with really dark, dark, long, curly hair, the color of midnight, and a delicate face with a sensitive mouth, and the tiniest little ears.”

Hair as dark as midnight, and a sensitive mouth? the lady thought. Did someone give this child weed?

“Plus, he’s always clean shaven and smells nice,” Cecily added.

“That always helps,” the lady sighed. She closed her book. It was pretty obvious that this little kid wasn’t going to let her read anymore. The damn kid’s parents just had to be around here somewhere.

“I think that he’s the handsomest man in the world,” Cecily added dramatically, sighing. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s none of your business,” the lady replied.

“I’m sure that you’ve had lots and lots of boyfriends,” ranted Cecily. “You’re so pretty.”

“Really?” the lady asked, perking up.

“You’re beautiful,” said Cecily.

“Well,” said the lady finally smiling. “Thank you. And yes, I have had boyfriends, but they were all losers. So take some advice from me, and don’t take up with any losers.”

“Oh I won’t,” Cecily promised. “I’m not nearly pretty enough to take up with anybody. Mr. Lars even said that I’m practical looking.”

“Who’s Mr. Lars?” the lady asked.

“He’s a dick,” Cecily answered.

“He sounds like one,” replied the lady, as she stuffed her book in her bag. Cecily just had to keep her from leaving.

“What’s your name?” Cecily asked.

“Philippa,” the lady replied. “I must get going now, but don’t listen to anything that Mr. Lars guy tells you. You’ll grow up to be very beautiful, and you’ll have tons of boyfriends.”

“How do you know?” Cecily asked, trying her very best to keep her from leaving.

“Because, I just know,” Philippa replied. “I’m an adult. I know everything.”

“So does my Dad,” said Cecily. “He knows absolutely everything that there is to know. He’s so wonderful. He plays the bass guitar you know.”

“That’s nice,” said Philippa. She began walking away. Cecily got up immediately to follow her. “Um little girl,” Philippa said. “You can’t come with me.”

“Why doesn’t anybody want me?” Cecily cried. “Nobody wants me!”

“Little girl, I never said that,” Philippa was very confused. She hadn’t done anything to make this kid cry, had she? “I don’t even know you. You shouldn’t be going off with strangers anyway.”

“All I do is upset people,” Cecily whined. “I mess everything up. I don't have a Mom. At least not a very good one.”

“Did this Mr. Lars tell you that too?” Philippa asked.

Just then, Cecily spotted Cliff from the other side of the grass. He was coming right towards them, with a cigarette in one hand, and a small bag of birdseed in the other. He did not look happy.

Oh fuck, Cecily thought to herself. He’s going to smack me again.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Cecily exclaimed as Cliff approached them.

“Don’t give me none of that Daddy shit!” Cliff snarled. “What the fuck are you doing over here? I told you to stay on the bench, and you didn’t listen! You blatantly disobeyed
me Cecily! You’ve been a bad, bad, bad girl! I’m very disappointed in you!”

Cecily hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just talking to the lovely Miss Philippa.”

Cliff took a long drag on his cigarette, and with his hand, lifted Cecily’s chin up so that the girl would have to face him. He was debating if whether or not he should smack her.

“Who the fuck is Miss Philippa?” he snarled.

“I’m sorry, it’s partly my fault,” Philippa said cutting in. She offered out her hand. “I’m Philippa. I was just talking with your daughter. Don’t be too mad at her.”

Cliff nearly swallowed his cigarette. He turned beet red.

You’re Miss Philippa?” Cliff asked, stunned. The lovely Miss Philippa was putting it lightly. She was fucking hot as all-fuck, dressed in a pair of well fitting jeans, and a tight red sweater that had a very plunging neckline. Cliff was absolutely speechless. Cecily noticed that his eyes had gone straight to her cleavage.

Mr. James was right, Cecily thought excitedly. Mr. Cliff does like cleavage. I guess Mr. James knows everything too.

“I was telling Miss Philippa all about how you play the bass,” Cecily piped up. “He even plays in a glam metal band.”

“It’s a thrash metal band Cecily,” Cliff corrected. “Get your terms right.”

“Oh yeah?” said Philippa, a little intrigued. “What band?”

There was no way in hell that he could tell a smoking hot chick that he was playing in a band called the Penis Wrinkles. Cliff gulped

“Metallica,” he answered.

“Do you guys play a lot?” Philippa asked.

“I guess so,” Cliff stammered.

“They just recorded an album in Denmark,” Cecily added. “My Dad flies all over the world playing music. They even have a record deal. And they have tons of amplifiers and equipment.”

“Wow,” gasped Philippa. “I’m impressed. You were right. I guess your Dad does know everything." She turned to Cliff. "Your little girl spoke very highly of you Mr. Mr.”

“Cliff,” Cliff told her blushing. “I mean, Burton, but uh yeah, call me Cliff.”

“Okay Cliff,” Philippa replied, she gave Cliff a tiny smile. Cecily was just waiting for Cliff to say something but he was just standing there, gawking at her cleavage, and acting totally stupid. He was ruining everything, her masterfully crafted plan! She just had to intervene.

“We’re having dinner at my great Aunt Josephine’s villa in the Napa Valley,” said Cecily. “You must join us. It’s beautiful there.”

“Cecily!” Cliff squawked. “We can’t have dinner because you’re leaving-”

“I love the Napa Wine Valley!” Philippa interrupted. “Really? Your aunt has a villa there?”

“She has a vineyard,” Cliff nodded.

“I love wine,” Philippa said. “It sounds heavenly.”

Cliff threw his finished cigarette onto the ground, and stomped it out. He bit his lip. He had no idea what to do. Cecily just had to go the airport tonight, but here he had a beautiful woman just chomping at the bit to have dinner with him. Cliff hadn’t been laid in weeks, and now he was so damn close. Plus, Aunt Josephine’s vineyard was a much better place to bang a chick than the bathroom of their hotel room back in Denmark, with Kirk in the next room.

He looked at Philippa once again. He wanted her so bad.

“Don’t worry about me,” piped up Cecily. “Barnabas can always take me by himself.”

Cliff didn’t want to ship Cecily off to the airport alone with just Barnabas. He wanted to at least give her a hug and a kiss goodbye and see her off. It would be very shitty of him to ditch taking Cecily to the airport, just for a piece of ass, even if it was an outstanding
piece of ass. More than likely, the seven o’clock nonstop to Copenhagen left every evening at seven. There wasn’t any reason that Cecily couldn’t always stay one more day. Claudia must have gotten her message by now, and she didn’t seem too concerned with getting her daughter back.

“Cecily,” Cliff said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“I’m not?” Cecily asked, her heart leapt inside her chest, and started practically dancing.

“We’re going to have dinner at Aunt Josephine’s,” Cliff replied, he looked at Philippa. “You’re more than welcome to join us,” he said. “They’re will be plenty of wine.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Philippa replied, nodding. “It sounds fun. What time do you want me there?”

“Is seven alright?” Cliff asked.

“Perfect,” Philippa returned. As they exchanged information, Cecily could hardly contain her excitement. She was staying! She was staying! And best of all, Cecily may have helped Cliff get laid. He did need her afterall!


As they headed back to their car, Cecily threw her arms around Cliff. He put his arm around her as well, and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Thank you Mr. Cliff. Thank you so much! I’m so glad that you’re keeping me,” said Cecily sincerely.

“You’re only staying one more day,” Cliff told her. “You can leave tomorrow evening instead.”

“See Mr. Cliff,” Cecily said as she got into the car. “You thought that girls wouldn’t like it that you had a daughter. Miss Philippa doesn’t care at all.”

“Cecily, you’re not my daughter,” Cliff said jammed the key in the ignition.

“But Miss Philippa thinks that I am,” said Cecily. “She thinks that you’re the greatest Dad in the world.”

“Shit. That’s right,” Cliff muttered. “Fuck. Well then, I guess we’ll have to act like father and daughter. But only while she’s around.”

“Do I get to call you Dad?” Cecily asked, excited.

“Only in front of Philippa,” Cliff told her.

“Good enough,” said Cecily. She snuggled down in the seat, very content. “Everything is perfect.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Cliff said. “You go home tomorrow evening. Remember that.”

Cecily wasn’t going to let that ruin her possibly last evening with Cliff. Who knows? If Philippa really liked Cliff, and thought that Cecily was his daughter, how could he possibly explain sending her away?

“Oh yeah,” Cliff said. “Do not mention the Penis Wrinkles in front of her either.”

“Yes Daddy,” replied Cecily.

“Hey! I said only in front of Philippa,” Cliff scolded. Cecily made a face. Cliff reached over, and ruffled her hair. “I must say Cess, you really do know how to pick them. You have fine taste in ladies. I'm impressed. Whatever made you picked her?”

“Well I really should give Mr. James some of the credit,” Cecily answered. “After all, he said that it’s all about the cleavage…”
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MissMetallica;;
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Poor Twisted Me
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AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!! that last bit was sweet. congratulations cecily! he really does need you after all!! :lol:

if philippa and cliffy get together, that means that emily and little kirky might have something there. i remember you talking about emily being more suited to kirk, so if thats what you are thinking of doing, thats fine with me. :D but then again. i could be jumping to conclusions :P

at first i thought that philippa was going to be a bitch, but shes not. and she seems to like cess and cliff. BONUS!

it was so cute to hear...read...that cecily loves kirk. thats just down right sweet. i bet she'd love to have a milk bath with him.. but wouldnt we all!

mmmm milk bath with kirk :drool
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Raluque
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Poor Twisted Me
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Cecily's sooooo cute!!! You should write updates when you're hungry more often. Cliff gets Philippa, James gets Emily, Cecily gets to stay with Cliff, everything gets sorted out and everyone's happy. Yaaayy!!

Long live hunger (but only in your case :biggrin )
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Thanks you two!!!
I wasn't sure how this Philippa thing was going to go over. Your comments surely helped. And in all honestly, I have no idea who's she's going to end up with, but I wanted one more female character just to make things interesting. :)

Thanks for reading. And I haven't eaten yet, so I'm still hungry,
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Raluque
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Poor Twisted Me
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You haven't eaten and you're writing a new update? Cool! that means we're getting a good one again :P
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Raedoll
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Poor Twisted Me
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Uhoh. Cliff, damnit all if you fuck this one up you're really fucked. TELL Phillipa the TRUTH. The truth will set you free you idiot, if you tell her the truth she might go, "Holy cow, an honest man! *pounce cling*" but if you lie to her you'll never get laid, or find someone who actually cares about you in return. Go Cecily though! She just scored another night in Frisco! I wonder what's going to happen when Claudia calls Cliff and says Cecily can stay for a week or two. He'd shit a brick.

I really can't wait for more, and this chapter doesn't seem ill fitted or anything, infact it's pushing the story into a direction. It's progression, it's the wonder of nature baby!
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Raluque
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Poor Twisted Me
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I think you've got a point Rae. He'd better tell the truth to Philippa or else it's "Cecily Ulrich" all over again. And it's only so many times that Cecily could score for Cliff. :biggrin
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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You girls are very good at figuring out this story. Too bad that the Tallica dudes don't seem to learn from their mistakes. But then again, if Cliff told the truth to Philippa we wouldn't have all the drama. :)

And I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. I wasn't hungry when I wrote it.
It might be a little flat.

:dance


Chapter 56- James Makes a Move on Emily with Disastrous Results, and Cliff Learns How to Set the Dinner Table


“I have to pee,” Kirk whined from the backseat.

“How can you possibly have to pee again?” James exclaimed. “You just peed thirty minutes ago.”

“No,” corrected Kirk. “I took a dump thirty minutes ago. I have to pee now.”

“Whoa,” said Emily. “Too much information. Kirk, we’re only forty-five minutes from your Mom’s house. Can’t you hold it?”

“No,” Kirk whimpered. “Please James, please let me pee. I don’t want to greet my Mother who I haven’t seen in three months with piss in my pants.”

“Why? She’s used to it,” muttered James.

“He probably shouldn’t have had that diet coke,” said Emily, as James pulled the car off at a rest area.

“No wonder Lars won’t let him drink soda pop,” quipped James. “He’d be pissing in between every song at our shows.”

James parked the car at a rest area.

“Thanks guys,” Kirk said gratefully as he got out of the car. “Tootles.” Kirk waddled off towards the rest area building clutching his ball sack.

“I’ve never been on the west coast before,” Emily said as they waited. “It’s nice. I like all of the hills.”

“I should take you over to the mansion,” said James.

“Mansion?” Emily asked.

“The Metallimansion,” James went on. “It’s not a real mansion, but it’s our house. I share it with Lars.”

"And just what do you two keep there?" Emily teased. "Chicks locked up in go-go cages? Mirrors on the ceilings? A pinball machine?"

"Haha," snarfed James. "I sure wish, but I if I do recall correctly, I think that Lars did have a mirror over his bed at some point, and the bathtub."

“If you guys have your own house here, why are going to Kirk’s mother’s then?” Emily asked.

“Because Kirk wanted some cake that his Ma makes,” James replied. “And his Ma will cook for us. But afterwards, maybe you and I could go back to the mansion. You could stay for a couple of days, and see San Francisco.”

“Um maybe,” replied Emily. “But I should make sure that Cecily gets returned back to her mom.”

“Claudia doesn’t give a flying fuck about Cecily,” James shot. “Trust me, I slept with the woman. Cecily is just another mouth for her to feed.”

“That’s so sad,” Emily sighed. She turned away from James. James reached out, and touched a lock of Emily’s hair.

“Emily,” he said.

“What do you want James?” she asked, as she turned around to face him.

James gently put his arm around her neck.

“James! What are you doing?” Emily demanded. He pulled her very, very, close and touched his lips to hers.

“I want you Emily,” he hissed. He went back for another kiss, but Emily smacked James across the face.

“You’re a vile, evil, dirty pig James Hetfield!” she shrieked.

“But I’m a vile, evil, dirty pig that’s good in the sack,” James reminded her.

Emily got out of the car. “Hey, where you going?” James asked.

“Far from you!” cried Emily. “You’ve been stringing me along like a puppet this whole entire time!”

“Well I am the master of puppets,” James began to laugh. Emily took off one of her high heels and chucked it at him.

“It’s not funny James!” she yelled. “You didn’t dress me up like a flaming whore just to try and get Cliff back, you did it for yourself!”

“Well not intentionally,” said James. “But I rather did enjoy the view.”

Damn, he wanted her even more when she was angry. Her nipples were poking through her sweatshirt. James went hard.

“I can’t believe how sick you Metallica people are!” Emily shrieked. “You did it to Cecily, and now you’ve done it to me! You paid to fly me halfway around the world, just to get in my pants.”

“That should make you feel good,” James replied. “We spent a lot of money on you.”

“Hey guys,” Kirk greeted as he came back to the car, holding another bottle of diet coke from the vending machine. “Next stop, my Mother’s house.”

Emily grabbed the bottle of diet coke, and chucked it into a trash can.

“Hey!” Kirk cried. “What’d you do that for?”

Emily pointed at James.

“So I don’t ever have to be alone with that repugnant oaf in the driver’s seat ever again!”

“Did he fart in the car again?” Kirk asked.

“Much worse," snarled Emily. She pushed Kirk towards the front passenger seat. “You sit up front. I’m going in the back.”

“Really?” Kirk asked, his face brightening. “I get to sit in the front? Why that’s an honor and a privilege. Lars and James never let me sit in the front.”

“Believe me,” Emily sullenly returned as she crawled in the back. “It’s way overrated.”

***

“Cliff! Cecily!” Aunt Josephine cried. “There you two are! Clifford, you should really get Cecily to the airport. She could miss her flight.”

“She’s not leaving tonight,” Cliff returned. Aunt Josephine’s mouth opened wide.

“Do you mean that your little Cecily is staying?” she asked. “Oh Clifford, that’s absolutely wonderful. I was even thinking that there’s a nice little elementary Christian school in the valley, that she could go to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Cliff. “Number one, Cecily is going to leave tomorrow evening. Number two, I ain’t sending her to no Christian school, where they have nuns beating her with rulers and shit.”

“I helped Mr. Cliff get laid,” Cecily announced proudly as Cliff helped her out of her jacket.

“I haven’t been laid yet Cess,” Cliff reminded her. “But you did get me off of the bench, and onto the playing field.” He turned to Aunt Josephine. “We have a special guest coming for dinner,” he told her. “It’s a girl.”

“A real lady of age, or another five-year-old?” Aunt Josephine asked.

“A real, beautiful, lady with big boobs,” chirped up Cecily. “I picked her out for Mr. Cliff myself.”

“You did real good sweetheart,” Cliff said as he gave her a quick hug, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Well then,” said Aunt Josephine, I’ll let Brunhilda know so that she can make one more swordfish steak. Meanwhile, why don’t you two imps set another place at the table for the beautiful lady with big boobs?”

“You should keep me around Mr. Cliff,” Cecily said, as she followed him over to the china cabinet. “I could find a whole harem of beautiful ladies for you.”

“Is that right now?” Cliff mumbled as he handed Cecily a plate, napkin, and wine glass.

“We could go to the park everyday and scope out the ladies who are jogging along the Bay of Shining Waters,” Cecily rambled on. “We could scope out university campuses, coffee shops, the mall, the cinema. We could make up some story about me being lost, and you being devastatingly worried about me.”

“Cecily, that is quite enough,” Cliff cut her off. “Damn kid, I don’t know where you come up with these insane ideas. Sometimes I wonder if I did unconsciously give you weed.” He took the plate from Cecily. “Now,” he said in an academic tone. “I’ll teach you the proper way to set a dinner table. The knife goes to the left of the plate. Not the right side Cecily. You had it wrong.”

Cliff looked at the pile of silverware that Aunt Josephine had laid out and frowned. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Why the fuck do we need to have three forks for?”

Aunt Josephine sighed. “One’s for salad, one’s for your entrée, and one is for your dessert. And the knife goes on the right side Clifford. Cecily was correct. This is another thing that your mother has been trying to teach you for the past twenty odd years. She really should have shipped you off to ettiquette class for a few weeks, instead of paying for all of those bass lessons instead.”

Cliff turned to his aunt and scowled.

“Philippa thinks that Cecily really is my daughter," he said. "She also thinks that I’m still in Metallica, so just play along with us. Okay?”

“You lied to the girl?” Aunt Josephine asked. “Clifford, I’m disappointed in you, stooping so low.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Cliff shrugged. “I havent had any action in three weeks.”

“Is that what we call the Great Depression?” Cecily asked from where she was trying to fold the dinner napkins all pretty. “When you can’t get laid for a long time?”

“They should call it that, but it’s not,” Cliff laughed, and winked at her. “The Great Depression is when the stock market crashed. Everyone lost their jobs and money.”

“Just like you Daddy?” asked Cecily. “You lost your job, and you keep saying that you don’t have any money, so I guess that you [I[are[/I] in a Great Depression.”

“Jesus kid you’re right,” Cliff said, shaking his head. “And don’t call me Daddy. I said that you can only do that in front of Miss Philippa.”

“I was just practicing,” Cecily innocently replied.

“You’ve practiced enough,” retorted Cliff.

“Cecily hon, why don’t you go upstairs and put on your lovely purple dress so that you look nice for Cliff’s new lady friend,” Aunt Josephine suggested.

“Yes Ma’am,” Cecily nodded. She gave Aunt Josephine a quick curtsey, and then turned to Cliff. “See you later Dad!” She gave him a quick hug, and then ran out of the room.

“I told you not to call me that!” Cliff bellowed after her.

“Clifford, I really don’t think that this is a good idea,” Aunt Josephine said sternly.

“But Aunt Josephine,” Cliff began. “You’re always asking me if I’ve gotten laid yet. Don’t you want me to have a pretty lady friend?”

“It’s not Philippa,” replied Aunt Jospehine. “It’s the fact that you’ve lied to her about Cecily. Plus, you’re leading little Cecily on. Haven't you tortured that poor little girl enough?”

“Oh Cecily’s down with it all,” Cliff returned, as he went back to setting the table. “The whole charade was her idea, and a mighty brilliant one at that.”

“And just what are you going to do if you and Philippa hit it off?” asked Aunt Josephine. “Ship Cecily off to see Mummy in Denmark, and then she just conveniently never appears again?”

“We don’t have to worry about that,” Cliff replied. “Philippa is out of my league. I’m sure that she’ll find me to be a total bore. She’ll probably never want to see me ever again. I mean, I have no money, she thinks that I have a kid, and I’m currently living with my aunt. I’m not exactly a prize.”

“Well when you put it that way,” said Aunt Josephine, frowning at Cliff as he placed the knife in the wrong place yet again. “I guess that you’re not. You can’t even set the dinner table!”
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Raedoll
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Poor Twisted Me
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Girl for not eating you sure can write. Cliff needs to wise up and fess up. Even if Cecily was the master plotter, Cliff is still the bad guy for going along with the idea in the first place. Emily is AWESOME for letting James have it! Kirk's silly. I'm glad James almost got stabbed with a heel! I really can't wait to see what Cliff does, and I'm really glad this is fiction. Lol, Cliff's mom said that Cliff hated lying more than ANYTHING in the world. She even said once, "It was really bad! Sometimes I would say, Oh gosh, I wish you weren't so honest Cliff" because he'd just emberrass his parents. I hope you eat soon!! It's no good to not eat for a few days. (Trust me, I know -_X)
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MissMetallica;;
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Poor Twisted Me
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poor emily, dirty james!! get your hands off her! you know what i love, the way that EVERYONE seems to know how good james is in the sack :lol: EVEN LARS. oooh larsyy what have you and james been up to hehehe.

i hope the dinner goes well, and cliff tells the TRUTH about cess and metallica, but it does add the drama. =)

and kirk needing to pee, so cute. i had images of him fidgetting around in the backseat trying to hold it in. god bless him :)
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Kristen- I always have fun writing Kirk. He's just like writing a little doll.
:lol: I also like exploring his relationship with his mother, which I get to do in this chapter. And poor silly James!


Rae- The telling the truth issue plays a big part in this chapter. We'll see if Cliff wisens up at all. And even if he does hate lying, there still is a prime grade piece of ass at stake here. :lol:


Now can I eat? :lol:


Chapter 57- Out of the Frying Pan, and Into the Fire


“Oh Kirk!” Emily gasped. “I love your mother’s house! It looks just like the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel.”

“I know,” Kirk agreed as he rolled out of the car. “And just wait until you get inside! Mom is always baking something, so the whole house always smells like candy.”

Mrs. Hammett lived in a small and very quaint butter cream yellow house with robin’s egg blue shutters, and flower boxes that overflowed with bright red geraniums. A white picket fence surrounded the front yard, protecting Mrs. Hammett’s beautiful gardens. A trail of smoke danced up from the chimney, and a mincemeat pie sat cooling on the kitchen windowsill.

“I can’t wait to meet your mother Kirk,” said Emily, as she and Kirk bounded up the house’s porch stairs.

“I can’t wait to meet your mother Kirk,” James mimicked to himself. “Humph. That bitch is just playing hard to get is all. I know she wants me. She wants me real bad. She leaks whenever she sees me.”

At the sound of people outside, Mrs. Hammett looked up from the preserves that she was canning, and peered out the kitchen window. “Kirk Lee!” she gasped. “And James! And they have a girl with them. But I thought they were still in Denmark.”

Mrs. Hammett ripped off her apron, and came flying out the front door.

“Mommy!” Kirk cried as he ran right into his mother’s embrace. Mrs. Hammett was a very tiny, tiny, lady, and Kirk was able to pick her up right off of the ground.

“Oh Kirk Lee darling!” Mrs. Hammett gasped. “I wasn’t expecting to have you home. Have you finished the album?”

“No,” Kirk replied, looking down at his now rather dirty tennis shoes. Mrs. Hammett noticed the tennis shoes as well.

“Oh Kirk Lee,” she cried. “Your new birthday tennis shoes are all muddy. What am I ever to do with you?” She looked up at Emily, who was standing shyly behind Kirk. Her face broke out into a smile. “And who is this pretty maid?” she asked.

“This Emily,” Kirk introduced. “We’re trying to hook her up with Cliff.”

“No they’re not. That’s complete and utter nonsense,” Emily replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Hammett.”

“Oh do come inside,” said Mrs. Hammett. “I’ve just baked a mincemeat pie, and there’s a fresh loaf of banana bread on the kitchen table as well.”

“Could you bake a Charlotte Russe cake Mummy?” Kirk asked. “Please?”

“Hey Mrs. Hamster!” piped up James. “You pretty much have to bake this Charlotte cake. Your boy has been yapping about it nonstop since New Mexico.”

“Oh James!” Mrs. Hammett sighed, as she gave James a hug, and ruffled his messy, wavy, golden mane. “Of course I will bake a Charlotte Russe cake. I’ll bake my Kirk Lee five of them if he wants them.”

Mrs. Hammett led them inside her tiny, yet whimsical home. In the tiny living room, lit scented candles adorned almost every end table, and the fireplace mantle. There were lacy curtains trimmed with dark purple ribbons. There were baskets filled with pinecones, a huge collection of music boxes, and one of those Victorian floor lamps with a shade trimmed with long fringe. Kirk was definitely right about the kitchen smelling like candy. The latest issue of The Metallinews was tacked up on the fridge. Mrs. Hammett fussed and seated them at a small, round table right in front of the stove.

“I ordered this bottle of raspberry cordial back in March,” said Mrs. Hammett as she lifted a green bottle from the pantry. “I was saving it for Christmastide, but Kirk Lee’s unexpected homecoming is a far more better occasion for it.”

“Raspberry cordial?” James sniffed.

“James, you know my Mummy doesn’t drink,” said Kirk.

“So Kirk Lee, where are Cliff and Lars?” Mrs. Hammett asked. “You kept writing in your letters that you and Cliff were so close. I was hoping to meet him.”

“Lars canned his ass,” James replied as Mrs. Hammett handed him a very small cordial glass. James frowned at it. “Uh Mrs. Hamster,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a little person like you are. Can’t I have like a pint or tumbler glass?”

“James, you don’t drink cordial out of a pint glass,” Emily hissed shortly. “Don’t you know anything?”

“I’m sorry to hear about Cliff,” said Mrs. Hammett as she handed James a coffee mug to drink his cordial out of.

“That’s why we came back though,” said Kirk. “James doesn’t want to fire Cliff. We’re here to get him back in the band. Lars doesn’t even know that we’re gone.”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Hammett.

“I’ve got to tell you about the most wonderful person Mom,” Kirk went on. “His name is Mr. Chelton, he’s my guitar tech.” As Mrs. Hammett worked on baking Kirk’s cake, Kirk told her all about Mr. Chelton, and the wired money, the walking stick, the help with Cecily’s fever, and all about The Father of the Year Contest.

“I’d love to call up this Mr. Chelton and thank him personally myself,” said Mrs. Hammett. “Maybe I will sometime when I get the money. What I can do is send one of my Charlotte Russe cakes for him to Denmark with you boys when you go back to finish your album.”

“That would be a wonderful idea!” Kirk exclaimed. “Mr. Chelton would adore it.”

“You have to promise me one thing Kirk Lee,” Mrs. Hammett said firmly. “You boys can’t devour it. It’s for Mr. and Mrs. Chelton only.”

“You don’t have to worry Mum,” Kirk laughed. “I’d do just about anything for Mr. Chelton.”

“You might have to worry about me though,” laughed James as he finished up the bottle of cordial. For someone who had bitched about it earlier, he seemed to have taken a liking to it.

“Anyway Hamster," he continued. "You probably should get off your ass and call up Burton’s folks and find out where Cliff’s aunt lives. I’d like to get Cliff rehired before he goes out and joins Megadeth, or something God awful like that.”

***

Cecily, was all dressed in her glorious purple gown. Aunt Josephine had fixed her hair in very neat curls that hung all the way down Cecily’s back.

“I must say Cecily,” she had said. “I don’t know who has more hair. You, or Cliff.”

Cecily now stood in front of the full length mirror that was at the end of the upstairs hallway, twirling about, still awed by her swishy skirt. Even though she had pretty much lived in that dress for the past three days, she still loved it. She had never owned such a beautiful dress before.

Cliff had just finished getting himself cleaned up, or as cleaned up as a Cliff can get. He put on his least torn pair of bellbottoms, his least smelly shirt, and ran a brush through his mop of hair. As Cliff emerged from his bedroom he caught sight of Cecily playing in front of the mirror. That stupid, fucking, dress had made her so happy. It was some of the best money he had ever spent. The dress made him sad at the same time though. It made him think of Emily. Thinking of Emily, reminded him of Denmark. Denmark made him think of Metallica.

I wonder what Emily is doing right now? he thought. Probably pissed off that I left without saying goodbye to her. I hope that she’ll keep a good eye on Cecily for me once I send her back.

“Hey Cess,” Cliff greeted, as he came up behind her. “Do you think that we look enough like father and daughter?”

“We both have long hair,” Cecily replied.

“Yeah, but yours is a little bit more well groomed than mine,” Cliff laughed. “Hopefully, Philippa won’t mind.”

“Women like men that are clean shaven and smell nice,” Cecily retorted.

“Well in that case,” Cliff said, as he took Cecily’s hand. “I guess that I’m pretty fucked.”

The duo headed down the stairs. Aunt Josephine was waiting in the parlor with her camera.

“I have just got to get a picture of you two,” she stated.

“I’d like a picture to remember Cecily by since she’s leaving tomorrow night,” said Cliff. Cecily tried to push the comment aside, and not let it bother her. She cleared her throat.

“I’d like a picture with Mr. Cliff too, even though I’ll always remember Mr. Cliff. I could never forget someone so wonderful. I’ll always remember you too Miss Josephine, and Brunhilda, and Barnabas.”

“Shut up Cess so we can get the fucking picture over with,” Cliff interrupted.

“I just want the picture so I can prove to your mother that you actually bought and picked out a decent little girl’s dress,” put in Josephine as she ushered them out to the veranda, for their picture.

They had just finished their picture, when Barnabas announced that Philippa had just pulled up in front of the villa.

Cliff and Cecily ran over to the front window, where they ducked down so that they could spy on Philippa as she made her way up to the front door.

“Oh Mr. Cliff,” Cecily sighed. “Did you see her dress? It’s purple like mine, except it doesn’t have a swishy skirt. She looks radiant though.”

“I’m not checking out her dress Cecily,” Cliff replied. “I’m looking at her other assets.”

“You mean her cleavage?” asked Cecily.

“James has you trained like a fucking show dog,” Cliff laughed.

“Would you two nincompoops stop gawking at the window like a couple of twelve-year-olds!” Aunt Josephine demanded. However, she too took a peak out the window for herself. “Oh Clifford,” she sighed. “She’s very pretty.”

“Told you that Cecily knew how to pick em,” Cliff replied. He noticed that Cecily’s sash had come untied. “Cess,” he said. “Come here. Your sash is undone.”

As Cliff tried to tie the nicest bow that he could in Cecily’s sash, Aunt Josephine answered the door for Philippa, and led her into the parlor.

“Hey Cliff. Hello there Cecily,” she greeted.

“Hey,” Cliff returned, blushing at Philippa. “I’ll be just one moment. I’m trying to fix Cecily’s sash, but I’m not real good at it.”

Cliff turned red again as he fumbled with the bow. It was a rather cockeyed and dilapidated bow, but at least her sash wasn’t dragging on the ground anymore.

“Thank you Daddy,” Cecily replied sweetly. She gave him a hug, and then ran out of the room, to give Cliff and Philippa some time alone. She figured that the better they hit it off, the better her chances of staying with Cliff were.

For the first time, Cliff was alone with Philippa, well for the most part. Aunt Josephine and Cecily were eavesdropping near the door.

“I’m glad that you could come,” Cliff mumbled. “After dinner, I’ll have to give you the tour.”

“I’d love that,” replied Philippa. “This place is beautiful, and your aunt and daughter seem so nice.”

There was an awkward silence. Only she’s not my daughter, Cliff thought. Philippa was staring at him, waiting for Cliff to say something.

“Um, I think that it might snow this weekend,” he mumbled.

“I haven’t heard that,” Philippa replied. “Oh well, if it does I can stay inside and read a good book or something.”

Wow, she’s hot and she knows how to read too, thought Cliff. He spotted the wet bar over in the corner of the room. Ah ha! He could offer her a drink. Isn’t that what gentlemen did? Aunt Josephine was right. He should have taken etiquette classes.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, feeling a little awkward and alone. It was so much easier talking to women while being stoned or drunk, or having Lars doing the talking for him. Cliff was pretty much used to showing up at the bed, doing his thing, and leaving. He wasn’t good with all of the courting and bullshit that went along with it.

“I’d love one,” Philippa replied. “I drink pretty much anything.”

“I’m going to have a Heineken,” Cliff said as he tore through the wet bar.

“Heineken sounds great,” Philippa answered.

“You like Heineken?” Cliff asked amazed.

“Oh yes,” Philippa nodded. “In my opinion, they’re only two kinds of beers: good beer, and very good beer.”

“Really?” said Cliff. “That’s awesome.”

Cliff was nearly ready to shit himself. A woman as fucking hot as Philippa, and she loved beer? It was almost too much for him to handle! As he handed Philippa her beer, her hand brushed against his, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. This girl was already a keeper. All she had to do was say that she liked smoking weed as well, Cliff would be sending her marriage proposals.

As he went to get their beers, Cliff found himself feeling more taken with Philippa by the minute. He was now certainly hoping that he could see her again even after tonight, but what about Cecily? What was he ever going to do? Have Cecily mysteriously die? Did Aunt Josephine have to be right about everything?

“I’d love to see you play bass,” Philippa gushed as she watched Cliff open their beers. “I’m going to keep a look out for the next time that Metallica plays around here. I’ll be there for sure.”

“Fuck!” Cliff muttered. He was so distracted that the bottle opener slid off of the bottle, and cut his hand. Serves you right Cliffy, he thought. Serves you right for lying.

“Oh you poor dear!” Philippa exclaimed. “Here, let me wash that up for you.” She immediately began running cool water over the cut. As she touched him, the hair on his neck stood up again, and his heart began pounding. She smelled of violets. Cliff should have listened to Cecily. He should have put something on that smelled nice.

“We’ll get this whole bandaged up,” Philippa said as she wrapped a napkin around his hand. “We need to keep your hands safe, so that you can play bass with Metallica.”

Cliff was starting to feel sicker by the minute.

“Uh Philippa,” he said, as he watched her bandage up his hand. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Philippa nodded. “But first, I’ve got to say just how much I’m impressed by you Cliff Burton.”

“You are?” Cliff asked blankly.

“Your little Cecily is the sweetest and most darling little girl,” Philippa gushed. “I can just see how much that you two adore each other. I can tell by the way that you look at one another. You’re a wonderful Father, and I find that very attractive.”

“Oh,” Cliff mumbled. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear at that moment.

“She looks up to you so,” Philippa went on. “And she should. You’re a single father, who seems to be a very busy musician, yet you still put being a good father first. I think that’s so wonderful. Is it ever difficult?”

Cliff began to play with his new bandage. “Well you see,” he began. “Cecily isn’t, she really isn’t, she isn’t really my-”

“She isn’t really what?” Philippa asked.

Cliff looked away from Philippa, turning red with shame.

“She isn’t really a bad kid at all,” he stammered. “She’s the best daughter that a father could ask for…”
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Raedoll
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Poor Twisted Me
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CLIFF YOU'RE A FREAKING IDIOT. Phillipa may be beautiful and everything you could ever want in a woman but you've got to tell the TRUUUUTUH. It's Cecily Ulrich do-over! She'll hate you when she finds out, and when she finds out you play for a band called the penis wrinkles instead. Grawrgh, you're just screwing everything up!! Mrs. Hammett is how I thought she'd be, and she likes James despite the fact he's an absolute pig. Blarhg. I really can't wait for more, and Cliff struggling to tie Cecily's sash was so cute, I could just imagine him fumbling. I hope you're eating soon, it's like that checkers commercial. "You gotta eat, what are you donig? Who do you think you are? You gotta eat!" lol. he HAS to tell the truth though! Cutting his hand on the bottle opener is a sign!
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Rae- okay, okay I ate. :) We just never seem to have food in the house. I hate going grocery shopping, it's boring. I detest it. Plus I don't know how to cook. I need a Brunhilda to cook for me, and I need a Kirk to make sure that I eat balanced meals. :)




Chapter 58- Phone Tag


“I just had the loveliest phone conversation with Mrs. Burton,” Kirk announced as he waltzed back into his mother’s kitchen. James and Emily were sitting at the table eating banana bread, and James was already into another bottle of raspberry cordial.

“Damn Ham Man, you talked to that woman for over an hour! What did Mrs. Burton have to say?” James asked.

“She said that The Metallinews needs to have a gossip column in it to spice it up a bit. I think that she’s right,” Kirk reported.

“Who gives a fuck about the fucking Metallinews?” James shrieked in desperation.

“I do,” piped up Mrs. Hammett as she rubbed her son’s shoulders. “I love reading about what my Kirk Lee, and his buddy Cliff, have to say.”

“What’d she say about Cliff being fired?” James asked.

“I didn’t exactly tell her,” Kirk returned as he slathered butter on a piece of banana bread.

“Did you get the phone number for his aunt?” asked Emily.

“Oh fiddlesticks!” Kirk exclaimed. “I totally forgot to ask.”

“What?” James shrieked. He banged his fist down on the table, causing the cordial glasses to topple over. “You were on the phone for over an hour with Cliff’s mother, and you didn’t even get Cliff’s aunt’s phone number? What’d the fuck did you two do? Shoot the shit for an hour?”

“Basically,” Kirk nodded. He turned to Emily. “Oh yeah, I told them that you’re Cliff’s new girlfriend. You’re to have dinner with them tomorrow night at six.”

“Kirk!” Emily exclaimed. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not Cliff’s girlfriend, and I’m not having dinner with his parents.”

“But they want to meet you,” Kirk whimpered. “I told them that you’re pretty. It will be just you and them. They’re making halibut steaks just for you.”

“I have nothing to wear,” moaned Emily.

“Wear your evening gown,” said Kirk. “My Mum will wash it so that it doesn’t smell like puke.”

“Now I understand why Lars and James like to beat the shit out of you, and never let you sit in the front passenger seat,” Emily grumbled.

James took a swig from the cordial bottle. “I’ll call the Burtons and get the number to Cliff’s rich aunt’s house,” he muttered. “You want something done right, you got to do it yourself.” And he stalked off to use the phone.

***

“You don’t get no focking tip because you drive like an old lady!” Lars growled at the taxi driver as he stuffed a wad of cash at him. “My Grandma Moses drives faster than you do!”

Lars slammed the car door, and dragged his luggage up the stairs of the Metallimansion. He was home sweet home. He had had a very smooth trip (except for the slow taxi ride). He had ridden in first class, drank gin martinis, and argued with some old dude about politics on the flight. Life couldn’t be better. Lars turned the key and unlocked the door.

“James!” he bellowed. “James! I’m home you motherfucker!”

Lars peered into the house. There was no sign of James, or human life. The shades were still drawn, and everything was just the same as they had left it. “That’s odd,” Lars wondered aloud as he dragged in his luggage. “James left a day before I did. He should surely be here by now. It looks as if no one’s been here at all. Not even Ernestine.”

Ernestine was Kirk girlfriend, well his United States girlfriend. She was supposed to go over to the Metallimansion twice a week and water the plants. Judging by the pots of dead leaves that were scattered about the house, it looked as if she hadn’t been around either.

“Focking plants,” Lars mumbled as he dumped one into the trash. “Hammett’s the one who insists that we practically have a focking greenhouse in here, and his idiot flat-chested twat girlfriend can’t even come over and water them. Fock, we were in paying her to do it too. Bitch.”

Lars shuffled over to the refrigerator, opened it, and frowned. There was absolutely no food at all. There was one, lonely, bottle of low calorie beer, and that was it. Lars sighed. It was better than nothing. He opened up the beer, and strolled over to the telephone. He had to call Cliff at his aunt’s house, and let them know that no matter what James said, he was still fired from Metallica. Lars had the upper hand, he knew that he did. After all, it was his father who paid for much of their equipment, and first recording sessions.
He didn’t have the number for Cliff’s aunt, so he ended up calling his parents house instead. Have them tell Cliff, Lars would rather not talk to him anyway. He dialed their number, and played with the telephone cord in an annoyed manner.

“Alright!” Mrs. Burton snapped on the other end of the receiver. “We’ve had a call from Kirk, and from James, is this Lars?”

“Yeah actually,” Lars replied.

“Why the fuck did you fire my son?” Mrs. Burton demanded harshly. Lars had to move the phone away form his ear. It was no wonder where Cliff got his mouth from.

“I fired your son because he’s a complete asshole,” Lars said evenly.

“James is hiring him back,” Mrs. Burton retorted.

“No he’s not!” Lars snapped. “You can tell Cliff that no matter what James says, I’m not letting him back into the band.

“Tell him yourself!” snarled Mrs. Burton. “You’ve got such a big mouth! I wasn’t even aware that Clifford was back in the United States, staying with his aunt until James called me. Cliff never tells me anything.”

“You can also tell Cliff that he can take Cecily for as long as he wants,” Lars went on. “Claudia needs a break.”

“Who’s Cecily?” Mrs. Burton asked, but Lars had already hung up on her.

Lars went to go fix himself a nice, warm, bath. His body ached from being on that wretched plane for fourteen hours straight. “Master James Hetfield better watch himself,” Lars snickered through clenched teeth as he poured bubble bath into the tub. “Cliff might not be the only one who’s fired…”

***

“Here you go Cess,” Cliff said, as he passed Cecily a dinner roll. He had even buttered it for her himself. Cecily took the roll and frowned at it.

“Yuck,” she muttered.

“Cecily,” Cliff said sternly. “You don’t say “yuck” and you don’t say “fuck” at the dinner table.” Philippa giggled at Cliff’s very stupid joke.

“But you put butter on it,” Cecily whined.

“So?” Cliff retorted.

Cecily just look at him.

“I don’t like butter Daddy,” she said. “Don’t you know?”

“Yeah,” Philippa added, staring at Cliff. Cliff seemed so involved with Cecily’s life. Didn’t he know his daughter’s likes and dislikes?

Cliff turned red, and looked down at his dinner plate. Fuck, he thought. Couldn’t have Cecily at least have eaten butter for me?

“I’m sorry Cess,” he mumbled. “I totally forgot about that.” He grabbed her dinner roll, and began to scrape the butter off of it. It then occurred to Cliff that there was actually a lot of random shit that he didn't know about Cecily. If he was going to play her off as his daughter, he probably should know more about her. He hadn’t had that many meals with her. He didn’t know her favorite foods, or what she wanted to be when she grew up, or even when her birthday was. All he knew was that she liked the Misfits, chocolate caramel turtles, pizza, the color purple, and thought that Cordelia was a romantic sounding name.

“There,” Cliff announced as he handed Cecily a butter free roll.

“Thank you Daddy,” said Cecily, she nibbled on the roll. Cliff also noticed that her fish and potato sat untouched on her plate. Now he knew how his mother felt, and why she was always having Kirk make sure that he ate.

“Cecily, eat your food,” Cliff ordered. “Or else I’m going to have to stuff it up your ass.”

“But Daddy,” Cecily whined. “It’s not small enough to eat. I don’t know how to cut it.”

“Gee Cliff,” said Philippa. “Do you ever take meals with your daughter?”

“Of course I do!” Cliff snapped, turning red yet again. “I just, I just, aw fuck it.” He grabbed Cecily’s dinner plate and began to cut her food for her.

“You said fuck at the dinner table!” Cecily chorused.

Cliff rolled his eyes at her. “If you ever say fuck again, I’m shoving this knife up your ass,” he retorted, shaking the knife at her.

“If I eat all of my fish can I have some wine too?” Cecily asked.

“No,” retorted Cliff. “You can have vodka and 7-up before bed and that’s it.”

“But why?” Cecily argued.

“Because I’m your father, and I say so,” Cliff snapped.

“Mr. Burton,” Brunhilda said as she entered the dining room. “You have a phone call from Young Master James.”

Cliff sat up immediately. “James!” he exclaimed, brightening. “From Metallica?”

“That’s the only James that I know,” said Cecily.

“I’m sorry,” Cliff said as he turned to Philippa. “But I have to take this phone call.”

“That’s alright,” Philippa smiled. “While you’re gone, Cecily and I can get to know each other.”

Cliff rushed out the room, his heart pounding. Maybe James wanted him back! That had to be the reason that he was calling.

Philippa watched Cecily, who was delicately and very properly eating her fish. She was starting to really like Cliff a lot. She loved how he interacted with his daughter, even if they both used crude language at the dinner table, and he didn’t seem too up to date on Cecily’s eating habits. Maybe that was because he was a musician, who had to travel a lot. The main thing was that they both loved each other, but she did have one very important question that she wanted to ask Cecily about.

“Cecily,” said Philippa in a friendly tone. Cecily looked up from her fish and smiled.

“Yes ma’am,” she said. Philippa took a deep breath. She knew that she was entering unchartered waters here.

“Where’s your mother?” she asked.

“She lives in Denmark,” replied Cecily. “Why?”

“Well,” Philippa began. “It’s just that usually when parents don’t live together the child lives with the mother. You live with your Dad.”

“That’s because my Mum is a whore,” answered Cecily bitterly. “She doesn’t love me. She’d rather be off running around with her various boyfriends. I hate her.”

Philippa felt so sorry for Cecily. That had to be very rough for the poor little girl, having such a lousy mother. At least Cecily had a loving father. It also made Philippa admire Cliff even more…
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Raedoll
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Phillipa is falling harder for Cliff, and uhoh, he's not Cecily's papa. I loved the dinner scene, and how subtleties of Cliff not knowing Cecily pop through. Shouldn't Phillipa be suspicious? And I liked the in-pasing description of Kirk on the phone with Cliff's mom, and Lars talking to Jan. LET HIM HAVE IT WOMAN! Lars is so mean to everybody. And Kirk's funny about Emily's dress, and this is just a massive tapestry of lies. I can't wait for one end of the tapestry to come unravelled!
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MissMetallica;;
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oh cliff, you need to tell philippa your not cecily's daddy before she falls too hard for you! that loving cliff/cecily banter at the dinner table was great. you are such a good writed ash, god damn i wish i could write as good as you!

kirk's mum sounds like such a dear, and i can just picture how small she would be. and i picture her having the same curly black hair like our little kirk. awww

you seem to be able to write fantastically in ANY mood your in. hungry, not hungry the WORKS. thats a talent :)
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