Author's Note: First Kickin' It fic, read and review!

Disclaimer: There are a lot of things I wish. World peace, a million dollars, a house-sized root beer float, and owning Kickin' It are all among them. So far, no luck on any.

"Hi, Jack," Kim called from the couch as her husband came in after work. Jack hung up his coat and walked to her.

"Hello, Beautiful," He said, giving Kim a quick peck on the lips. "How was your day?" He sat down next to her on their comfy sofa, and she put her head on his shoulder.

"It was fine. I was thinking about baby names for this one," she said, smiling and indicating her round tummy. "We only have a month or so left, you know."

"I know," Jack said, bringing her hand to his lips and gently kissing her knuckles. "What names did you come up with?" The Brewers had decided not to find out whether they were expecting a boy or a girl. The upside to this was that it stayed a surprise. The downside was that they had to find a girl and boy name.

"Well, if it's a girl, I thought we should name her Cassidy, after my great-grandmother, God rest her soul."

Jack liked the name Cassidy well enough; they could call her Cassie for short.

"And if it's a boy, we can name him Jack, after his daddy." She smiled happily at her husband. Jack's stomach sank. He formed words in his head, trying to figure out the best way to put what he was about to say.

"That's really sweet of you, Kim, and I'm really flattered, but, well, Jack just isn't a great name to grow up having." He explained.

"What's wrong with the name Jack?" Kim's hazel eyes were round with confusion.

"There's just too much potential wordplay and teasing involved there." He said.

"What do you mean? Give me an example."

"Well…"

Four-year old Jack groaned as his little brother started singing 'Jack and Jill' for the thousandth time that day. (Not that he could count that high.)

"Stop it, Kyle!" he yelled, finally losing his cool. "Stop singing that dumb song!"

The three year old began crying loudly at his brother's raised voice. "MOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYY!" he wailed.

"Mommy, make him be quiet!" little Jack shouted. His mother sighed and jogged out from her office and picked up her wailing baby. Then she led her older son by the hand, and sat him down at the dining table.

"Jack, what's going on? Why is Kyle crying?" she asked, bouncing Kyle on her hip in an attempt to quiet him down.

"He was singing that dumb song with my name in it!" he complained.

"Why do you think it's a dumb song, Jack?" asked Mrs. Brewer, ever reasonable.

"Because it makes no sense! Why are they fetching water? Why does Jack fall down, why can't it be Jill for once? And who wears a crown when they go get water, anyway?" he finished, slamming the table in frustration.

"Well, that's a very old song, when they didn't have taps. They had to fetch water from a well, which was at the top of a hill." She began.

Jack thought it was stupid to build a well on a hill where people would fall, but he didn't mention that.

"When it says Jack fell down and broke his crown, it doesn't mean a crown like kings wear, it means head."

"I break my head? Like an egg?" he asked, aghast, picturing his brains splattered everywhere at the bottom of a hill.

"Even if you do fall of a hill, don't worry, honey. Your Jill will come 'running after' for you." She messed up her little boy's hair, kissed him on the head, and headed back towards her office, leaving her son befuddled.

Kim smiled at the story, but her expression went back to confused. "We can't name him Jack because of Jack and Jill?

"It's not just Jack and Jill, Kim, it's a lot of other things." He sighed.

"Like what?"

"Like…."

"Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick." The kindergarten teacher recited at Rhyme Time. "Now you say it, class."

A shaggy-haired boy in the back raised his hand. He was quite well known for being a mischief maker.

"What is it, dear?" she asked patiently.

"I don't want to." He replied, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Don't want to what, dear?" she was getting much too old for this.

"I don't want to jump over the dumb candlestick." He said, pointing at the cardboard cutout that stood at the teacher's feet. "That doesn't make sense. I can just walk around it." He observed the ground around the giant candlestick closely. "Unless there are lasers around it. There aren't any lasers, are there?" Where did he come up with these things?

"No, dear, there aren't any lasers. And why ever do you think you need to jump over the candlestick?" she said, an angry and impatient edge to her voice.

"Because you told me to!" he said hotly.

"I did no such a thing." The teacher said firmly. "Stop making a scene."

"You did too! You said, 'Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick'" the boy nearly shouted. "I don't want to jump over the candlestick! And you wouldn't even have to be that quick to jump over a dumb cardboard candlestick! And what does nimble even mean?" he said loudly. The rest of the children had slowly backed away, leaving the cranky teacher glaring down at the shouting boy and the candlestick.

"Stop yelling at once, young man." She said in a no-nonsense-you-are-in-so-much-trouble voice. "What is your name?"

"I'm Jack. Jack Brewer." Replied the child in a small, timid voice.

Kim was laughing hysterically. "You actually thought she was talking to you?" she said, tears streaming from her eyes.

"I was five years old and she said my name thrice!" he protested.

"So, have any more horror stories about the name Jack?" she asked when she could speak properly.

"Loads…"

The kindergarten class was witnessing another standoff between Jack Brewer and the teacher (whose hair was considerably grayer than the beginning of the year.)

"Why won't you draw a jack-o-lantern? Ms. Meehan asked when she saw the blank piece of orange construction paper in front of the boy, who in her opinion was in dire need of a haircut.

"Because everyone always picks on my name. Why can't it be a – a – mike-o-lantern, or a sam-o-lantern, or hey, let's do girls' names, like a jane-o lantern or a jill-o-lantern?

"I'm tired of this, Jack. Stop making a scene. You're acting like a Jackass!" half the class gasped at the obscenity, but Jack thought this was too much.

"YOU QUIT MAKING FUN OF MY NAME!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. His face turned red, and in a fit of rage, he slammed the outside edge of his hand down on the desk, effectively breaking it in half.

"And a karate star is born…." Kim laughed, slapping her hands on her knees.

"Yeah, I was a handful back then." Jack reminisced, chuckling.

"You still are, Jackass." Kim told him, smiling to let him know she didn't mean it.

"That's not even as bad as it gets" Jack groaned.

"See…"

"It's almost Christmas, and it hasn't snowed yet." A child pointed out.

"If there isn't any snow, how will Santa Claus come?" fretted another.

"Oh, stop your worrying, guys. There's almost an entire week until Christmas, I'm sure it will snow by then." The teacher reassured her first-grade class. "Jack Frost is a little late this year, but I'm sure he'll come."

"Jack Frost? Who's that?" asked a little girl.

"And what's he got to do with the snow?" another boy added.

"Don't you know who Jack Frost is?" she asked, sitting down for impromptu story time. The children sat down around her.

"Have you ever seen the frost on the grass in the morning, or maybe on windows or windshields? Jack Frost does that. He brings the frost to signal that it will snow soon, and winter will be here." The teacher explained, smiling at her favorite childhood story.

"What does he look like?" someone asked.

The teacher thought, and responded, "He's a little boy. He wears a white winter coat and light pants. He has fair skin and long hair." That sounded about right.

"And he's late? That's why it hasn't snowed yet?" asked a wide eyed youth in the front. The girl sitting next to him solemnly nodded yes.

Almost an hour late, a little boy walked into class. It was more of a waddle, really, because he was bundled up tight in a puffy white marshmallow coat, thick, light gray sweatpants, and a pale blue scarf and hat. His long hair stuck out at the collar, and his eyes were barely visible.

The teacher glanced at the roll sheet, while the boy muttered something that sounded like 'sorry I'm late.'

"It's all right, Jack, you're here now." The teacher said briskly. A commotion swept through the knot of first graders.

"Did she say his name is Jack?"

"Do you think he's Jack Frost?"

"He looks like Jack Frost."

"And he is late"

"Oh my goodness, Jack Frost is here!"

"Make it snow." Demanded someone as Jack tried to unwrap his scarf.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, spitting out bits of fluff that had gotten stuck in his mouth.

"You're Jack, aren't you?"

"Yeah." He looked confused

"Then make it snow!"

"How am I supposed to make it snow, you lug nut?"

"I don't know, I'm not Jack Frost, you are."

"Brewer. Jack Brewer. Who is this Jack Frost?"

"Jack, you grew up with some pretty gullible kids." Kim laughed.

"I moved a lot, so people barely knew my name.

"Well, it must have been better at home, right? With family?" Kim asked.

"Barely…."

Seven year old Jack and his dad stood in the garage, building a desk and chair for Kyle. Jack stood importantly by the toolbox, ready to hand his father whichever tool he asked for.

"Screwdriver." Mr. Brewer ordered, and Jack handed it to him promptly. The boy watched as his dad tightened the screws, his hands moving quickly. He enjoyed watching his dad build things, he was a mechanic. He was very good with his hands. Jack wanted to be a little like his dad when he grew up, but he wasn't sure he could be a mechanic. He'd never been good at drawing or coloring or painting. Anything that involved working solely with his hands, he was no good at. (Except chopping boards, but he doubted that that would help him become a mechanic.) He stood there, lost in thought, thinking about what he could be when he grew up.

"Jack, Hammer." His dad said impatiently. Jack apologized and looked in the toolbox, then all around the garage.

"We don't have one, dad." He said.

"What do you mean? Check again" his dad said.

"Nope, can't find one."

"You're not looking hard enough." He told his son."

"I'm pretty sure we don't have one."

"Don't you think I know what tools I have or don't have?"

"I'm just sayin'. I looked, and I'm telling you, we do NOT have a –"

"If you can't even find something simple, then go inside. You aren't helping." He said, frustrated.

Jack sighed and went back into the house. He sat down on the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He had wanted to help his father build his little brother's birthday gift, but he couldn't even help find tools. He would never be a mechanic.

"Hey, weren't you helping daddy?" his mom asked, coming up to him.

"I was, but he said I wasn't helpful." He pouted. His mom took his face in her hands.

"Sweetie, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I told him we didn't have a jackhammer, and he wouldn't believe me." He explained sadly as his mother hugged him.

"We don't have a jackhammer." She assured him.

"Go tell that to Dad." He said resentfully, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Wait a minute; I thought you two were building a desk and a chair, not digging up concrete. Why would he even need a jackhammer?" she asked, confused.

"I don't know either." He shrugged. Mrs. Brewer walked to the garage. Jack followed her, and stood quietly behind the door. He listened as his parents argued.

"I asked him to just hand me a-" Mr. Brewer started, but his wife cut him off. "Why do you need a jackhammer?"

"Jackhammer? I never asked for a Jackhammer!"

Jack thought this was tremendously unfair. "You did too! You said Jackhammer!" he protested, yelling from behind the door.

"I said 'Jack, hammer." His dad explained. "As in Jack, I want you to give me the hammer." Jack turned red at his mistake. "Why would I need a jackhammer?"

"Oh my gosh, I'm laughing so hard." Kim said. "I can feel the six-pack coming on."

"It'll never compete with mine, but all right." Jack said, winking. Kim giggled.

"Anyway, did the whole Jack confusion stop once you moved to Seaford?"

"Not Quite…"

"Uggh, why does it have to be raining?" Kim groaned. "I wanted to go skateboarding!" She flopped back onto the couch in her living room.

"Relax, Kim. We'll go some other day. Here, let's play cards." Jack said, grabbing a deck from off the table. "What games do you know?"

"Well, I do play a mean game of poker, but other than that, I suck at cards." She admitted.

"Don't worry about it. Here, I'll teach you something easy." He said amiably, thinking about which card game to play. "Oh, I know. Ok, so this is how it goes. You split the deck in half" he paused, and dealt all the cards between himself and Kim.

"And then I put down a card, then you put down a card, then I put down a card, then you, then me, then you, then-"

"Does this have a point?" Kim interrupted.

"Yeah, of course it does. To win, you have to get all the cards. And to pick up cards, whenever you see a Jack, you slap it." He was barely done explaining when Kim struck him across the face. It wasn't a hard blow, but he was taken aback by surprise.

"OW!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?!"

"Well you said when you see a Jack you slap it." She said, shrugging.

"A card Jack, Kim!" he said, caught between laughing and shouting. "Not a person Jack!" he shook his head. "You'd think people would stop making fun of my name because of the whole black-belt thing…." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Kim asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Nothing."

"Oh, Come on, Jack, you know I didn't mean it." She said. "Stop being a big baby." Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Kim kissed him on the cheek. Whereas before, the red mark had only been the size of her hand, Jack's whole face was now flushed red.

"I probably shouldn't have done that" Kim muttered.

"I don't know I'm glad you did." Said Jack, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oohh, I remember that." Kim said. "But that was a good incident."

"Yes, that was a very good incident." Jack agreed. "If only all of them could have been."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…"

"Movie Marathon!" Jerry yelled triumphantly, running into the basement with his hands full of DVDs.

"I brought food!" Jack called out, and set it down on the table.

"I brought pillows!" Kim announced, dumping them on the floor.

"Ooh, Which movies do we have?" Milton asked excitedly, trying to grab them from Jerry.

"Twenty One Jump Street, the Godfather, Sound of Music? Kim, did you put that in there?" Kim shook her head no and pointed at Milton. "Not cool, Milton, Not cool."

Rudy came in, wearing an eye-patch and peg-leg. "Rudy, why are you dressed like a pirate?" Jack asked.

"We're having a movie marathon, so I brought these." He explained, holding up all four Pirates of the Caribbean movies. "And I dressed up."

"Oh, cool, I love those." Mika said happily, taking the first one and popping it in the player.

They all settled down to watch the Curse of The Black Pearl and listen to (or more like ignore) Jerry's constant commentary.

"Oh, Orlando Bloom is so hot!" Mika exclaimed as the actor in question was hanging off a mast of the ship. "and I love his hair!" Milton rolled his eyes at her gushing.

"I don't know, Mika." Kim said. "He's hot, but I have to say I like Jack's hair better." Jack felt a warm glow in his chest, and he smiled to himself.

"Well, actually I guess he does." Mika agreed. "and he's really funny, too." Jack positively glowed with the praise.

"The best part is still the hair, though." Kim said. Jack self-consciously touched his hair.

"I know, right!" Mika practically shouted. "I mean, dreadlocks!" Jack was confused. He did not have dreadlocks.

"Quiet, Yo. Captain Jack Sparrow is talking" Jerry ordered. Jack groaned.

"I wasn't talking about Jack Sparrow." Kim said, laughing a little more quietly now.

"Well, you can say that now." Jack teased. "But when you were sixteen, you know you were in love with Johnny Depp."

"Nope, even back then, it was still you." Kim whispered.

Mini-Epilogue:

A month later, the Brewers were bringing their baby son to their house for the first time. "Welcome home, Zach." Jerry, Milton, and Rudy said, opening the door wide.

A/N: sorry about the sappy ending. Review!