Far Away from the Cold Night Air

This is an alternate-reality continuation of an unpublished story I wrote many years ago. I started wondering what would have happened if they would have met back up while both available, and if he would be able to tame a feisty, independent street kid. I'm still not certain, so I may end up writing more. We'll find out! All characters are over 18.

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Will had thought about her a lot over the past year and a half or so. He thought about when he'd found her the first time, and she was just a little kid, a ten year old runaway, and he was a teenage highschool dropout, living in his truck. That was when Laurel had first asked him if he'd be her Daddy, and the horrible knowledge of what her biological father was like had driven him to say yes. At that point she had stayed with him for almost a month, he'd started making plans (probably teenage delusionals) to get them an apartment, and enroll her in school. That time her family found her, taking her back to a childhood of neglect and abuse, and he had been sure he'd never see her again. He'd gone to Newmarket, finally got his high school diploma, got a house with a friend, started his life.

Then 7 years later, and almost a year and a half ago, he'd picked her up hitchhiking. Neither of them had recognized the other initially, and when they did, they had 7 years worth of catching up to do. They'd ended up going to the beach, sleeping in the bed of his truck again, and he'd realized she wasn't a child anymore, even though he'd rejected her advances. He was married, and she was still so much younger than him. But she was the catalyst for change in his life, yet again. After he returned home, to his wife, and her affair, he'd kept thinking about Laurel. How she'd just walked away from everything ugly in her life. How she'd listened to him with so much compassion. How she had NOTHING, but still never expected or demanded anything from him. How she still called him Daddy.

6 months after he met her again he'd moved out. His divorce was finalized a few months later, and he was living in an apartment. He didn't like living in an apartment, but it was better than living in a house with a woman who pretended to love him.

Will wondered where Laurel was now. If she was in LA, or if she'd hitchhiked back down the coast to Washington again. He was thinking about her as he drove home. He'd gone to the grocery store after work and was taking the long way back home, through downtown Olympia, around the lake.

He saw a familiar-looking figure staggering down the sidewalk with a larger man, apparently drinking something out of a large plastic bag. Her hair was longer than the last time he'd seen her, shaggy and mostly blonde. He couldn't be sure it was her. He stopped the truck.

"Laurel!" He yelled out the window. She froze, and then started running, tripping, obviously drunk and scared. "Laurel, wait! It's me!"

The man with her yelled back at him. "Fuck off, man, she's with me! She don't wanna talk to you!" He wasn't even slurring. Laurel had fallen and was struggling to get back up. She gave up and took a long pull off of what was now obviously a bag that had been pulled out of a box of cheap wine.

Will pulled his truck over and got out. He strode confidently over to her and put his arm around her, hefting her to her feet. "What the fuck, man? You just out here cockblocking for the hell of it? I've been taking care of this bitch all day." The older man snarled at him.

Will took a slow breath. "Settle down, mister. You're old enough to be her dad and she's so drunk she can't stand up."

"He's not my daaad", Laurel slurred, trying to raise her floppy bag of wine to her lips. Will took it from her firmly, handing it to the homebum who was clearly still pissed.

"No, he's not. Your dad's far away. Do you see who I am?" Will asked her. She looked up, and her blue eyes, smudged around with multiple-days-old makeup, struggled to focus on him clearly. She gasped.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby. It's me. I've got you."

The tears were instant, and he pulled her close.

The older man sneered at him, swinging the space bag over his shoulder. "Whatever man, take your little garbage girl. I don't fucken care. She's junkie trash anyway, there's a dozen more just like her under the bridge."

"I'm not FUCKING GARBAGE!" Laurel yelled, turning and starting to scream. "I'm NOT FUCKING GARBAGE!"

"You better walk away right now." Billy said firmly, and the guy shook his head.

"No problem. You enjoy all of that. Good fucken luck." The man shook his head and walked off, headed toward the bridge.

"I'm not garbage." Laurel sobbed.

Will sighed. It was gonna be a long night. There was a blue corduroy messenger bag on the ground where Laurel had fallen, and he stuffed the few things that had fallen out into it, noting the Care Bear that was apparently still her traveling companion. Slinging the bag over his shoulder he walked her back to the truck and loaded her in carefully. She laid down on the seat, moaning when he buckled her in.

"Come on, baby. Sit up for me." He urged. She sat up and promptly flopped toward the door. "Jeez, Laurel. How much of that did you drink?"

"Where'd my wine go?" She asked as he loaded himself into the truck and started it, heading back to Tumwater.

"With that gross weirdo you were hanging out with."

"Oh yeah." She looked like she was struggling to remember. "...I don' really know him."

"I'm pretty sure he was trying to take advantage of you." Billy looked at her. She was leaning against the window, watching trees and buildings go past. "Why were you hanging out with him?"

"I dunno. He was gonna buy wine. Said he had some whiskey and something to smoke back at his camp."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you wanted him to take advantage of you."

She closed her eyes. "I don't want that." She swallowed. "But I know what I'm for."

"Goddammit, Laurel. That's so much bullshit." His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. "Are you 18 now? You're 18 now at least, right?"

"Yeah. 19. I'm legal."

"Well that guy looked like at least 50, I don't think that should be legal."

"He said I was garbage." Her voice suddenly sounded much younger, like the 10 year old girl he'd played house with so many years before. "Am I garbage?"

"No." He reached out, stroking her hair. It felt greasy, and rough. "No, baby. Still not garbage."

"Daddy, I-" she stopped suddenly, making a choking noise. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening.

"Are you gonna be sick? We're almost there. Like 30 seconds." She nodded, looking panicked. He whipped into the parking lot at his apartment complex and parked quickly, sprinting around to open her door. She struggled to get out, still wrapped in the seatbelt. Will unbuckled her and caught her just as she fell. She was on her knees quickly and he held her hair back as she puked. It was dark red and frothy, and he prayed it was just wine, not blood.

She moaned as she finished and he loaded her back into the truck, driving her to his apartment and then half carrying her in. After he got her in the bathroom, Laurel laid on the cool tile floor and he ran her a tub.

When he went to undress her she attempted to pull his tshirt off as well, and he let her. She was even skinnier than the last time he'd seen her, skin pale and covered in filth and bruises, but he checked her arms and legs for track marks and didn't see any. Thank god.

He helped her into the bath. "How's that? Too hot?"

"No. It's nice." Her head was still lolling, but she seemed embarrassed of being naked in front of him for the first time, and tried covering herself with her arms.

"It's okay." Will lathered up a washcloth and started washing her like she was a child. "I'm not gonna hurt you." She looked at him.

"I'm sorry." Laurel whispered. "I wouldn't have gotten so drunk if I'd known I was gonna see you."

"Well, you are definitely in trouble." He said, marveling as what he'd assumed was a tan washed right off. "I told you to take care of yourself, and this is not what taking care of yourself looks like. I don't know what to do. Should I ground you?"

Her eyes widened, as she studied his face. He winked at her, and she smiled, taking in his tanned, shapely shoulders, his smooth chest, muscled by hard labor.

"You... you coul' gimme a spanking." She suggested, smiling hopefully.

Will flushed. "Definitely not in your current state."

She nodded, somberly. "I might puke again."

Will laughed. "Well, there is that." She sighed, lying back in the water. "Uh, do you... want to wash yourself?" Somehow, although she was thinner, her breasts seemed larger.

"Will you do it?" She seemed like she was falling asleep.

He gently washed her breasts, they were impossibly soft, round and firm. He closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that she was drunk, sick, and this was in no way anything sexual.

He washed between her legs, and she parted them, moaning softly.

"Stop that, baby girl." He begged, cursing his body for responding to her in this state. She opened her eyes, looking into his. His kind eyes, so much concern written in their chocolate depths.

"You remember that night, Daddy?" She asked, her voice sounding young, and soft. "I think about that night a lot."

He nodded. "I do too, baby. I think about you a lot."

"Do you think about touching me?" She whispered, but he was moving onto washing her hair now.

"Right now I'm thinking about putting you to bed so you can sleep this off." She moaned again, this time from the feeling of his strong rough fingers working tingly shampoo into her scalp. "Can you stand?" He asked.

"I-I think so." He helped her to her feet and she stood, holding herself up on the wall as he hit the drain and turned the shower head on. He rinsed her hair, put conditioner in it, rinsed her body, and then rinsed out the conditioner.

"I haven't had a shower in a long time." She whispered.

"I can tell." he deadpanned, watching the filthy water run down the drain.

She flushed, covering her face with her hands, and he wrapped her in a towel. "Am I garbage?" She mumbled.

"Nope." He dried her vigorously. "Here, I have a spare toothbrush. I'll get you something to wear."

In the morning, Laurel woke in a soft bed. she was wearing an oversized tshirt, and there was water and ibuprofen on the bedside table, and a plate with some toast.

She panicked briefly. It wasn't unusual for her to not remember how she got to where she was waking up, but it wasn't usually indoors. She checked if she was still wearing her underware and panicked again. As she sat up, her head throbbed and her stomach flip-flopped. She took three ibuprofen with the full bottle of water and nibbled at her toast, nervously heading out the bedroom door.

Will was in the kitchen, wearing a robe, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Good morning." He studied her. "How are you feeling?"

"Will?!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you remember anything?"

She stared at him. Gears turned, crunching warily back to life in her brain. Foggy memories limped back to her. "OOHHH my god." She blushed. "Did... did we..."

"What do you think?"

She stared at him. "I think no."

He smiled, turning back to his coffee. "You do know me."

"...but I tried?"

He smile spread into a grin, familiar dimple creasing his cheek. "You also know you."

"OH MY GOD." She sank into a chair at the dining table, turning bright red. "...why... WHY am I here? Why did you bring me back here? You can't... you can't just..." She rubbed her head. It was pounding.

He sat next to her. "You were drunker than a skunk, with a man at least twice your age, I needed to make sure you were safe."

"WHY?!"

He stared at her. "About 8 1/2 years ago you asked me to be your Daddy. Remember?"

"I WAS 10."

"I know. I was only 17. But I said yes. And I take that seriously. You need someone to take care of you."

"Bullshit! I can take care of myself!"

"Prove it! If you start taking care of yourself, I'll stop stepping in."

They glared at eachother. She sighed, breaking away and rubbing her head.

"I thought you were married. What the hell is going on. What do you want from me?"

"I'm... divorced." He muttered. "I don't want anything from you. I just want you to be safe."

"That explains a lot." She looked around his obvious bachelor pad. "Because of the cheating?"

"Mainly, yeah."

"Will... I'm so sorry." She reached out, squeezing his hand across the table.

"I'm not. I feel freer than I have in years. We'd been putting on an act. I'm not sure when she fell out of love with me, but she wanted something else, and I was stuck with someone who didn't love me, who made me into a worse person. I don't like who I am with her, and now I get to like myself again." She smiled, and he saw genuine happiness for him spread through her face. "Let's talk about you, though. Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere, everywhere." She shrugged, smiling wryly. "Address earth."

"Well, address earth isn't working. I need you to stay with me."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm sorry, Laurel, but it's not safe. You're gonna end up strung out, raped and dead. You can't keep going like this."

"So, what, you're GROUNDING me, Daddy?"

"Well... yeah." He grinned. "Or do you remember what you suggested last night?"

Her bright blue eyes widened. "...was it a spanking?"

"It certainly was. If you'd prefer that, I'm game, but I don't know if that would do the trick."

She flushed, unable to help glancing at his hands. His fingers were long, his palms rough from work, and she could imagine the sting of them on her skin.

She looked away. "So, what... do you have in mind for grounding?"

He smiled. "Just... stay here with me til we get something figured out. You can take care of the apartment while I'm gone, make our food. We can get you a job, get you some new clothes. Get you your own place. Get a fresh start."

Laurel put her face in her hands. The ibuprofen was starting to cut through the sharp pangs of her headache. All she had eaten the day before was a candy bar, and her hunger was starting to cut through the nausea. "Will... Daddy... this... you're not a white knight, and this... isn't Pretty Woman."

"Well, of course not. I'm not rich, and you're not a prostitute... I don't think. That doesn't mean we can't buy you some clothes-"

She cut him off, glaring at him. "WAIT. WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES."

He flushed. "They smelled... REALLY bad. They made the whole apartment smell. You can't wear those. I can go to Walmart..."

"YOU THREW AWAY MY CLOTHES?!"

"THEY WERE COVERED IN VOMIT AND FALLING APART!"

"JESUS CHRIST!!"

"Clothes are hardly the biggest issue here. Let me HELP you."

"Maybe I don't need your help!"

Now Will rubbed his temples. The pathetic girl from last night was gone, and he was remembering Laurel's stubbornness and independence. The last time he'd tried to help her she'd snuck away in the middle of the night. This time needed to be different, or he doubted she'd survive another year on the street.

Last night had been scary. She didn't know how scary. Laurel NEEDED a Daddy, she needed one now, and he was the only one she had. He was only 26, and didnt have a lot of experience with parenting teenagers, but this one was out of line.

"Alright, that's it. You're grounded AND getting a spanking." Her jaw dropped.

"What?!"

"Come here, bend over my knee."

She flushed.

"NOW." His voice was firm, his eyes steady. He'd scooted away from the table and now he patted his knee.

"Yes... yes, sir." She whispered, standing slowly and going to him. Her brain was protesting, but there was something in his tone, his face, that made it feel like obeying him was the thing to do. She bent over awkwardly, holding her body in place.

"No, this won't work. You're too tall." Taking her hand he led her to the bedroom and she followed, baffled by this turn of events. Now when he bent her over his knee her upper body was supported by the bed, and she melted into the softness.

It occurred to her how sore her body was. How sore she was from sleeping on the ground. And now she had the offer to sleep on this soft mattress every day until she got one of her own.

*SMACK* His palm made sharp, stinging contact with her left cheek. "Count." He told her.

"What?"

"COUNT."

"One."

*SMACK*

Right cheek, this time, and she felt something deep inside her relax.

"Two."

*SMACK*

Something was unwinding, unfurling, something that she had guarded for a long time.

"Three."

*SMACK*

Spanking the same cheek that had already been spanked definitely smarted more, but her body was melting into the bed, melting against him.

"F-four."

*SMACK*

She moaned, unintentionally. Her legs were melting, her whole body softening, and she felt tears rolling down her cheeks as well as wetness between her legs. The wetness made her very aware there was no fabric between her ass and his hand, and he rested his hand on her soft cheek for a moment before she remembered and stammered out: "F-five!"

*SMACK*

"Six!" She moaned, she could feel the outline of him hardening, pressing through his robe and against her stomach.

*SMACK*

"Seven!" She sobbed, she was soaking wet, and his hand was stroking up and down her thighs.

*SMACK*

"Eight! Daddy- PLEASE!"

*SMACK* *SMACK*

She lay in his lap, sobbing into the bed. He stroked her soft skin, running his hand up under his own t-shirt that she was wearing and rubbing it up and down her back. "Shhhh... shhh. That's a good girl. That's my good baby. What a good, sweet girl. Shhhh." She curled into him and he kept petting her, stroking her hair and whispering soothingly. "It's okay, baby. It's all done now. It's all finished. You did such a good job." He lifted her, laying alongside her and holding her against his chest.

"Shhh." He stroked her face, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, kissing the tears as they spilled from her eyes, and then gently, softly, pressing his lips against hers.

She gasped, her eyes flying open. He was staring at her. His eyes, deep chocolate brown staring into her own blue. "Daddy?"

"Is... is this okay?" He asked softly.

She nodded, slowly, and kissed him back. And then that kiss melted into another, and another, soft, sweet, firm, passionate, and next thing she knew, she was on top of him, grinding her burning flesh against him, his robe the only barrier between them. His hands were sliding over her, from her still-hot asscheeks, up her back, around her sides, squeezing her soft breasts, thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples, as his hips thrust up and he ground against her. "Oh my god..." Laurel gasped. "Oh, my god, Daddy..."

She reached for the tie on his robe and suddenly she was on her back, wrists pinned to the bed above her head, his eyes searching her face.

"I'm not... you don't HAVE to do this. Like, this isn't the deal. You can stay here, we can get you clothes and figure this out. If you don't want this, I-I can be your Daddy without any of this."

She stared at him. "What have I ever done to make you think I don't want you? Of course I want you. I just... WHY would you want ME?" The tears started to roll again. "I'm... garbage. I'm a mess. I'm a squatter. I'm trash."

"Stop. Stop." He kissed her again. "No. Of course you're not. You're messy, but you're not a mess. And you're definitely not garbage."

"I'll pay my way with blow jobs if that's what you want, or you can fuck me whenever you want, but this... I don't understand this." She shook her head. "I don't get it."

"You are not allowed to pay your way with blow jobs," he smirked. "This is... me being your Daddy. This is me taking care of you. And that's what I want to do." He kissed her lips. "Because someone needs to. And I don't want it to be anyone other than me." He kissed her neck, and she let out a little moan as his tongue touched her skin. He nuzzled against her as he rolled his tshirt up slowly, kissing her skin as he exposed it. She raised her arms slowly and he pulled the shirt off and over her head. She blinked up at him, a touch dazedly, though she'd left most of her hangover behind. "Let me show you, baby girl." He whispered, stroking her cheek. "Let me show you how I can take care of you. You're not just here to get me off. I want this. I want you. I want you to be mine. And there's nothing that would make me stop being your Daddy. There's a reason I keep finding you."