Safe

Class

Fiddleford opened the paper covered door to see multiple children running around and playing. Ford couldn't help but snicker at all the tiny children playing with blocks and trying to draw, getting marker everywhere.

"Oh, good morning! How may I help you?" A woman in glasses and bellbottoms walked over to them and greeted the couple. Tate held onto his father's hand and hid between the two men. "Well we signed my' son, Tate, up for yer' class." Fiddleford smiled politely and tried to pull Tate forward, though the five year old was very reluctant. "How nice! My name is Celeste Monroe, may I ask your name, oh, and who is this gentleman?" She blushed and looked at at Ford who averted his eyes from a child who was now picking his nose to see two green doe eyes staring at him. He awkwardly smiled in response, unsure what to do, hoping Fiddleford would say something. "My name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and this is my partner, Stanford Pines." Fiddleford smiled nervously, not sure how the teacher would react to Ford putting his six fingered hand on Fiddleford's shoulder and rubbing it lightly as they looked at each other with loving eyes. Celeste widened her eyes and blushed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..sorry, for staring, mister Pines." She rubbed the back of her head before quickly bolting off to a screaming six year old. Fiddleford chuckled and smirked at Ford. "Yer' so popular with the ladies." Fiddleford laughed at Ford's frowning face. "Don't test me, McGucket." Ford tried to seem upset but he couldn't help laughing. "Yer' pretty darn popular with southern engineers too." Fiddleford gave Ford a small peck on the cheek.

"Ha, sorry about that, Bobby stubbed her toe.....for the third time today." Celeste returned and smiled at the family of three, standing in the doorway. "It's no problem. Children do tend to get themselves into the same trouble quite a few times." Ford chuckled and Fiddleford rolled his eyes, knowing he was referring to the day Tate kept getting stuck on the roof, they usually went up there with him to make sure he was safe but he wanted to be like Ford and go on his own adventures without Papa Fiddleford, which didn't sit well with his father. "True, true." Celeste laughed and then smiled. "You can drop Tate off now if you'd like, or you could stay for a little while,whatever you two would prefer is fine." She tried to give a friendly smile to Tate who was holding tightly onto Ford's coat, knowing he could protect him. Fiddleford looked up at Ford then back to the blonde teacher. "We'd like to stay for awhile, if it wouldn't be any trouble." Fiddleford smiled and could see Ford's shoulders droop, knowing he wanted to go home so they could have some much needed alone time but, as much as Fiddleford loved alone time with his partner, he wanted to make sure his son was in a safe environment. "It's no problem at all! You can sit over here, sorry there aren't any higher tables or chairs." She guided them too a corner that had a small square table surrounded by four chairs occupying its space. Ford and Fiddleford sat beside each other, and Fiddleford sat Tate on his lap. "Now, Miss Monroe is gonna' introduce you to the class and I want you to make some friends ok, buddy? We won't be here every class and I just wanna make sure you get yerself' some friends." Fiddleford ruffled Tates brown hair. Tate nervously hopped off his papa's lap and followed Celeste to the front of the 'classroom'.
"Alrighty kids! We have a new friend, his name is Tate and you need to treat him how you want to be treated." The kids didn't really listen, the were to busy with all their activities to really care, not they'd really care otherwise. "Go have fun." Monroe lightly nudged Tate forward, trying to encourage the five year old. 

Fiddleford watched nervously as Tate walked over to an even smaller table the was being used by two other students to draw. "C..can I draw?" Tate asked a six year old girl in a pink ballet skirt. The girl nodded, noticing his funny voice but it sounded like something she heard on TV once so she didn't bother to say anything she just handed Tate paper and a box of mix matched markers (there were at least three reds). 

Tate started to draw, trying to mimic the way Ford drew in his special books. His drawing skills were surprisingly developed for his age, he wasn't amazing but it was still better than the stick figures the girl was drawing. Fiddleford chuckled."He's trying to be like you." The sandy haired man said with an odd sense of pride in his voice. "Well, he shouldn't." Ford was pretty concerned, he knew the outcomes of trying to be too much like a parental figure and he didn't like it, he at least wished Tate wanted to be like Fiddleford instead, Fiddleford was such a kind and genuine person that was incredibly intelligent, a much better role model in Ford's opinion, plus he was Tate's biological father. Fiddleford leaned on Ford. "Now, darlin', you're a great role model and, father, and I don't want you even thinkin' otherwise." Fiddleford took his eyes off Tate for a moment, long enough to kiss each of Ford's fingers gently, causing the brunette to blush.

"What the heck are you drawing?" The girl invaded Tates space and grabbed his drawing. "Hey! Give that back!" Tate remembered what his father said about manners. "Please!?" He tried to get his maker scented art back. Tate reached for the picture but the girl refused to return it. "Please." Tate begged as his eyes filled up with tears, causing the six year old to look at his glossy eyes. She laughed and looked him in the eyes with a confused look on her face. "Why're your eyes weird? You're funny looking." She tilted her head to the side, her words drew the attention of other kids. Tate sat on the floor as all the eyes stared at him. Before he knew it he was crying, and the chanting started, calling him a cry baby, repeatedly. 

It only lasted a few seconds, the teacher and Fiddleford ran to the small group of children. Ford stood up and looked shocked, as Tate cried into Fiddlefords sleeve and the teacher scolding the other child. Fiddleford walked Tate over to Ford, who sat him on his lap and let Fiddleford wipe his tears away. "What happened kiddo?" Ford asked, trying to sound calm, but truthfully he knew what happened, or at least had an idea of it, after all he's been in Tates shoes before. Tate didn't speak but he began to bury his face into Fords chest.
"Someone would like to apologize, isn't that right Bobby?" Celeste brought the girl who started the entire thing over to Ford, Fiddleford and Tate. She had a tanned piece of paper in hand. "Sorry for making fun of you,...." She struggled to remember Tates name but gave up and continued. "here's your drawing back." Tate didn't respond but grabbed the paper out of her hand quick and roughly, clearly still upset. Fiddleford looked mildly annoyed at the way his son acted but, he was more annoyed with whoever raised that girl because she's not exactly polite either. "I think that's enough for today... thank you Miss Monroe." FIddleford thanked the teacher and started walking out, holding Tates hand and Ford followed. Tate threw the paper on the floor, the tan maker stained paper was crumpled into a ball due to Tate crunching it in his small fist.

Ford reached down and picked it up, not opening yet, they were all a bit peeved and he thought it'd be better to look at home, where they're calm and more or less collected.

{Didn't mean for this chapter to be so long, hahahahah oops.}