A/N: You'll notice (if you remember little details about the Lovejoys, i.e Tim checking out a Bible from the library for the past 9 years) some details of the Lovejoy's life will be explained in this fic, all my own opinions and story plot ideas of course. Anywho, enjoy~!

"Tim, Jessica has been misbehaving at school," Helen said with a bit of worry in her voice as she came down the basement steps.

"Impossible!" Tim replied, not looking up from his train set.

"We got a letter from the school, Tim," she held a piece of paper out to him. "It's all in black and white!"

The man shoved the paper away. "The school is mistaken."

Helen sighed. "I know it is hard for you to accept this, but it is real. Remember the collection plate?"

Tim said nothing, concentrating on his trains. Helen grabbed the remote control from his hands. "Hey!" He took it back with a frown. He did not appreciate his trains being touched.

"Tim, this is serious! Something needs to be done."

"So go do it."

"Why don't you do it?"

"I don't want to be the bad guy," he replied innocently.

"And you think I do? You're not a good or bad guy here. You're not a guy at all!"

Tim set down his controller. "Are you implying that—?"

"Tim! You are not involved enough in our daughter's life. She is your daughter, too."

"And that is the reason I cannot hurt her."

"You're already hurting her. All of her scandals are a cry for attention from you."

"How do you know?"

"If you would read the letter . . .!" Helen shoved the paper back in Tim's face.

Tim took the letter with a sigh. It was from Principal Skinner. It read:

Dear Reverend and Mrs. Lovejoy:

I am sorry to inform you that your daughter has been misbehaving more than the average student lately. Not as much as Bart Simpson, but probably pretty close, which is an accomplishment . . . but not one to be praised. Anyway, I will not bore you with all the minor disturbances, which I can assure you have been taken care of. The thing that I must bring to your attention is Jessica's latest scandal. She has spray painted the side of the school with the words "eat my skirt" (most likely a copy of Bart Simpson's trademark "eat my shorts." He possibly will threaten to sue.) She signed her graffiti "Daddy's little devil." Jessica will be staying after school for as long as it takes to clean up her mess. She also has a month's worth of detention. I know this is probably hard for you to hear, but maybe you will take steps to tame your "little devil." Have a wonderful day!

~Principal S. Skinner

"Daddy's . . . little . . . devil?" Tim whispered, looking up from the letter. "But she's such an angel."

"Take off your rose coloured glasses, Tim. Our daughter is not a perfect little angel! But you can help her. She needs her daddy."

"But what about her mommy?"

"It says nothing about 'mommy' on that school wall. Now go do something before our daughter slips even further away!" she grabbed Tim's ear and twisted it, causing him to yelp.

However, the physical pain was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside of him.

Tim knew he did not give his daughter enough attention, but there was reasoning behind that.

When they had first had their daughter, neither were really ready to be parents. They struggled on finding the best parenting strategy. Both he and Helen had fairly strict upbringing; Helen got lashes from a switch tree while Tim got spankings with his father's belt. Both decided not to use physical harm as punishment for their daughter. In fact, they decided to be much less strict than their parents had been altogether.

The infant years were not too difficult for them, but it was the "terrible twos" that started to cause them problems. However, they found giving Jessica what she wanted did the trick. Tim was much guiltier of this than Helen. He found he could just not deny his daughter anything. He easily became her favourite parent.

One day when Tim and Helen were not looking—which happened more often than it should have—Jessica had pushed a stool over to the kitchen counter so she could reach the candle her mother had burning. She picked it up and set it beside her father's Bible she had borrowed. Jessica was a very bright little girl. She had seen her mother reading by candle light before and had decided to try it herself. However, she accidentally knocked the candle over and onto the book. Fascinated, she sat watching as the flames burned the book.

"Do you smell something burning?" Tim asked.

Helen did not answer; she merely kept nipping at her husband's neck, curled up in his lap. Tim jumped up, causing Helen to topple backwards on the couch. He followed the scent and found his precious Bible ruined.

"Oh my Lord!" he shouted.

"What is it?" Helen came running to find her husband gaping at a burning book while their daughter sat staring in amazement. Her hand reached toward the flames, and Helen swept her daughter up, holding her close. "No, Jessica. That would hurt you, and we most certainly do not want that."

"I'm all for book burning, but not the Bible!" Tim exclaimed sadly.

"For Heaven's sake, Tim, put out the fire!"

Tim nodded and obeyed his wife. "I'll never be able to afford a new one," he muttered.

"If you didn't spoil our daughter so much, you would have more money!"

"Oh, please."

"Tim, was the dress you bought her last week really necessary?"

"It was on sale!" he insisted. He sighed. "I guess I'll have to check out the library's copy for now. How humiliating."

Jessica looked to her father sadly. "Sorry," she said simply, her eyes filling with tears.

"No, no, sweet Jessica, it's not your fault." He took his daughter in his arms and held her tightly. "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it." Jessica kissed her father's cheek, and he smiled.

After child proofing the house a bit, they felt their daughter was safer. This also made them more comfortable leaving her be. However, Jessica, being a curious toddler, would often come up to her parents as they were sharing a kiss and asked politely what they were doing. On some days when she was feeling less like being polite, she merely wedged herself between them in silence or looked to her mother and told her "no" before hugging her father.

The girl did not hate her mother; she adored her. They often spent time together when her father was busy. Helen would try to teach her things, like her alphabet, using magnetic letters. She would also read to her, but she much preferred her father's bedtime stories.

At the age of five, Tim and Helen gave her a small Bible for her birthday. Of course the girl could not read yet, but she adored the gift all the same. However, initially, she had tried to give the book to her father, knowing he did not have one of his own.

"No, sweet Jessica. Thank you, but this is your Bible. It has your name in it. See?" He opened the front page to show her. He read aloud, "This book belongs to Jessica Lovejoy."

Jessica took the book back with curious eyes and stared at the first page. "This book belongs to Jessica Lovejoy," she repeated and grinned. "I can read!"

Tim chuckled and stroked her hair. "You sure can."

Jessica took that book with her wherever she went, and sometimes, she had Tim read to her from it. This pleased him greatly, of course, being a minister. Her Sunday school teacher was very impressed to see such a young girl with her own Bible—and so worn, too!

"Does your father read it to you?" she asked her once.

"Yes, ma'am!" Jessica grinned proudly.

One day while Tim was busy with work, Jessica sat with her mother, watching her sew. Helen liked to sew Bible verses into pillows and things and give them as gifts.

"So, what's new, Mommy? Any neat gossip?" Jessica liked hearing about the people of the town almost as much as her mother liked telling it.

Helen chuckled, rocking in her chair thoughtfully. "I don't think there's anything your innocent ears need to hear."

"Aww, man." Jessica thought a bit before speaking again. "Daddy's got an important job, huh?"

"Very much so. He delivers the word of God to everyone who will listen."

"If he's important, is he rich?"

Helen chuckled again, but frowned slightly. "Not quite." In fact, they sometimes struggled with money. She adored being married to a minister; she was proud, even, but the income was horrible.

"Then why do I have so many toys and pretty dresses?"

Helen smiled softly. "Because your daddy loves you very much."

Jessica smiled, satisfied with that answer. "Do you love me very much, too, Mommy?"

"Of course I do, sweet girl. Come here." She set her sewing aside and pulled her daughter in her lap, kissing the top of her head. "How would you like to learn how to sew?"

Jessica's eyes brightened. "I would love to!"

One day when Helen was at the super market, and Tim was watching Jessica on his own, he had fallen asleep on the couch.

Jessica had been colouring a picture, but upon noticing her father had fallen asleep, she snuck down to the basement to look at his train set. She always had liked them, but he never let her play with them. With him asleep, he would never know that she had touched them.

However, he woke up sooner than she had anticipated. "Jessica! What are you doing?" Tim ran down the stairs. "Those are not children's toys!"

Whether him startling her had caused it or not, neither knew, but when the trains crashed, Tim blew a fuse. Anything else he could have tolerated, but his trains were very special to him, and it caused something to snap inside of him. He grabbed his daughter's arm suddenly and hit her on the rear end twice with force. Though it hurt, Jessica had been so shocked that she could not move nor did any tears fall. She scampered off to her bedroom in fright.

Tim's eyes widened at himself; he felt himself shaking as he sat down beside his broken trains.

Days went by and not a word was said about it. In fact, nothing was said at all. Jessica thought her father was just so angry with her, but he was actually angry with himself for hurting his daughter when he had always promised that he never would.

Days stretched into weeks. While the atmosphere did ease up a bit, Jessica felt like the relationship she and her father had would never be the same.

She noticed how much attention he gave her mother, his work, and his trains, and it bothered her. She wanted such attention, too.

She tried to get his attention subtly by using the alphabet magnets. Spelling the best that she could, she wrote "Sore Dad", but her mother cleared them away before he could see. She brushed them back into the box, not having actually looked at them, saying, "Put away your toys, sweetie; it's supper time."

Irritated by this, Jessica started to take more drastic measures. It was usually just Helen and Jessica together, whether Tim was out of the house or in the basement with his trains. Anytime Helen would try to do something with her, she would throw a tantrum that she would rather have her father.

After a while, Jessica realized the tantrums were getting her nowhere. She decided to give it a rest for a while.

"Mommy?" she said sweetly one day. "I want a new tea set."

"Those are expensive, dear."

"Daddy would get it for me. You love me as much as Daddy, don't you?"

Helen sighed, defeated. She gave in and bought the tea set for her daughter. However, that was only the beginning. As the girl continued to ask for more material things, to fill the hole her father had left, Helen decided she would have to get herself a job. She wanted to be able to buy her daughter everything she wanted, but she couldn't afford it.

She got herself a job selling Mary Kay products, and it helped get Jessica the things she wanted and then some. She had planned on buying her husband a nice Bible, but he made her quit before she could buy it.

All the stress from juggling a job and parenting their child alone was starting to get to Helen. She found a grey hair on her head, to her disappointment, one evening and panicked.

"Tim! Tim! Come quick!"

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed, appearing at her side.

"I have a grey hair on my head!" she pouted.

"Calm down; it happens to everyone."

"I'm in my twenties, Tim!"

"It's probably stress related or something."

"Yeah, being as I'm raising our daughter by myself! I don't know what has gotten into you lately. Always with your trains . . . !"

"Shh. It's probably your job. You should quit. You're making more money than we need, anyway."

"You're just jealous," Helen smirked.

"No." Helen chuckled. "I'm serious, Helen. I don't want you working anymore, and that's final."

"But, Tim!"

"Helen," he reprimanded.

"Fine," she sighed.

Helen was irritated that Tim had avoided the matter of their daughter, but let it go. However, she only got steadily more stressed as months went by, from raising their daughter with little help and worrying about her husband. Tim was with his trains more than ever. Something was bothering him, but he always avoided talking about it.

She was having a harder time with Jessica, who had started completely closing up. She refused to eat her vegetables, and when Helen tried to teach her something new, she plugged her ears. She often even refused to talk.

When Helen woke up one morning to find herself with less red than grey on her head, she started to lose it. She had a bit of a breakdown. She lay face down on her and Tim's bed, sobbing.

Tim sat beside her, rubbing her back. "I still think you are beautiful, Helen," he said quietly.

"Thank you," she said softly, sitting up. "But I don't know what I'm going to do about Jessica," she sniffed. "She's driving me crazy."

Tim hugged Helen close. He knew this was his fault, but he couldn't admit it aloud. Ever since he had struck their little girl, he had been scared to get near her. He didn't want to risk hurting her again. If he had lost his temper once, who's to say he wouldn't again? He knew their daughter was smart, and he figured she would be fine without him, but seeing what it was doing to Helen killed him inside.

"Well . . . she'll be starting school soon."

"Oh, Tim, I wonder if she'll do well in school. She's been so strange even with me about learning lately."

"Jessica is a smart girl."

"I worry about those public schools. Maybe we should enroll her in a private school or something. Wouldn't that be safer?"

"Hm . . . Boarding school is an option."

"Boarding school?" Helen gasped.

"Maybe sending her away is what we both need," he said gently. "You deserve a break." He kissed her shoulder.

Helen said nothing, but put her head on Tim's shoulder.

It was the hardest decision they ever had to make, but in the end, they decided boarding school was the way to go. However, when it proved to have been a bad idea, Tim could only blame himself.

When Jessica was first shipped to school, she could only believe that it was because she was a bad girl, that her father was still upset with her. After a while, though, she was starting to realize it seemed more that her father had probably done this as a cowardly act to get out of giving her the attention she had been deprived of. She started misbehaving at school, with a mixture of intentions. She was angry and wanted revenge on her parents, she wanted to go home, but most of all, she just wanted attention from her father.

Upon getting expelled and sent home in her fourth year, her father did not punish her at all. How could he? Instead of punishment, he gave her a warm hug. They did not speak of the expelling; they just enrolled her in Springfield Elementary and continued with their lives.

Helen and Tim had been without a child for four years, and as much as they had missed their daughter, it was hard to adjust back. Much to Jessica's dismay, her father was still as passionate as ever about his trains. While he did not completely ignore her, she still yearned for the attention she used to receive, for that close relationship they used to share.

Tim missed it, too. He just wondered if he was capable of mending what he had broken.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his ear. He stood up. "I will go talk to her. For you," he kissed Helen's hair. Even though it had prematurely turned grey, he would always love it, just like he loved her. "And I'll do it for us." He meant himself and Jessica, of course. He had to try for his daughter and the sake of their relationship.

Helen watched him walk away with a smile. It was about time.

Tim knocked on his daughter's bedroom door, his heart pounding quickly; he was nervous.

"Come in," she said softly.

Tim stepped in the room and sat beside Jessica, who had been doing her math homework. She set it aside and looked curiously to her father, who was casually looking around her bedroom. He noticed her Bible setting on her nightstand and smiled. "You still have your Bible."

"Of course I do."

"Do you ever read it?"

"Sometimes." There was a little silence before she added, "It's not as interesting as it is when you used to read it to me."

Tim felt his heart sink a little, but he spoke again. "Would you like it if I read to you sometime?"

"I would love that," she said instantly, surprised.

"Your mother and I got a letter from the school in the mail . . . and I know she wants me to punish you . . . but I'm not going to."

"You're not?" she smiled.

"No. You know what I'm going to do, though?"

"What?"

"I'm going to buy you that game you wanted. It can be our little secret."

Jessica's face lit up, and she hugged her father. "You're back," she whispered.

"If I ever try to leave again, don't let me," he whispered back, hugging her close.

"I won't!" she clung closer.

Tim still did not know how to be a "good" parent, but he knew the first step was to be a parent at all, and he had failed to do that for years. He was going to start now. He never wanted to let go of this moment.