The D.D.D.I (The Dork Dad Dating Initiative)

A/N: Written as part of my Tumblr prompt fill requests.

This was, in every sense of the word, ridiculous.

It wasn't even the fact that he was miffed because he was too old for this place. No, no. Under normal circumstances, Peter Kirkland would never even step foot onto this silly place, let alone run about on it, swinging from monkey bars that were no longer as high as they used to be, nor slide down the slide that was no longer quite as long and fun. But, for the sake of the man that raised him and the woman he knew would want the man to move on, ten-year-old Peter, adult that he was, would swallow his pride and pretend to actually enjoy these little weekly playground trips.

Really, this was all so his father could continue making goo goo eyes at the other man that would bring his daughter here every Friday. Peter and his father had met the most illustrious Mr. Jones and his daughter, Wendy, about two years ago, back when Peter actually enjoyed running around on the rubber cement of the playground and sliding down the slide. Peter had paid little to no attention to the two back then, more focused on proving to Wendy- silly thing that she was- that boys were much better at monkey bars than girls were. And of course, he had proven it well enough, easily swinging across the bars while she had to call her dad for help.

Their fathers had honestly not taken notice of each other for quite a long while that day, though of course, as were the rules of the playground, someone had to get injured daily. Today's injury happened to fall upon the shoulders of little Miss Wendy, who had swung too far and ended up kicking Peter in the nose instead. Peter's father had rushed over, handkerchief in hand, ready to dab up the blood and fuss over his son, but it was not he but Mr. Jones who had the best solution: a lemon pop, bought from a nearby ice cream truck, that easily chased away the pain of taking a girl's sneaker to the face.

Naturally, Peter's father, gentleman that he was, insisted on thanking Mr. Jones profusely. Somehow, everything that day ended up with Peter and Wendy getting even more ice cream, and their fathers just... talking. It was all rather boring to Peter, who licked up his ice cream with glee, and even managed to get Wendy to convince her father to pay for even more ice cream.

The next week, they were back again.

"Do you think they'll ever figure it out?" Wendy asked as she hopped down from the monkey bars, having also outgrown them quite a bit. "It's been what, two years already?"

Peter huffed slightly and turned to roll his eyes at the girl. No matter how much he had outgrown the cootie age, Wendy would always be the Cootie Queen to him. "Of course not! Father says that your dad is a 'bumbling hamburger sucking git', even though he isn't any better. He turns into a right jerk whenever your dad isn't around to calm him down." the boy shook his head, squinting at the two adults sitting on the park bench. Peter's father was staring at the sky, smiling ever so slightly as Mr. Jones laughed and pointed at the clouds. Mr. Jones was a science teacher, according to Wendy, and knew everything there was to know about the skies.

Wendy hummed a bit and plopped down next to Peter, frowning a bit as she turned to look at the adults as well. "Well, I don't know about you, but we can't keep coming here forever. I'm starting to get too big to go on the slide, and the swings aren't that fun anymore."

"Well, it's your dad's fault, you know," Peter muttered, pouting a bit, "If it weren't for him, my jerk dad wouldn't be dragging me here every Friday..."

Wendy fixed him with a sharp glare. "Excuse you? More like your dad's the one that's making my dad bring me here. He won't stop talking about how pretty your dad's eyes are and all of that." she wrinkled her nose a bit at the thought. "It's just... if he loves your dad so much, why doesn't he marry him?"

"Because they're both dumb?" Peter supplied, scrunching up his own face as the two men before him, unconsciously, scooted closer to each other. Their hands were so close, they were nearly touching. Mr. Jones leaned in close and whispered something into Peter's father's ear, causing the man's ears to blush red, though he hid a smile behind his gloved hand. There was another whisper, then Mr. Jones was awarded a brief punch to the arm. Peter's father was never like that at home.

"I think we should get them to see it," Wendy said, picking at the bits of rubber cement as she spoke. "If they're too dumb to see it themselves, then we need to take initiative." she puffed out her chest proudly. "My daddy taught me that word. It means that we have to be in charge!"

Peter scowled. "What do you mean? Who gets to be in charge? Two people can't be in charge at once! That's against the law!"

Wendy stuck out her tongue. "Not if you're king and queen, it's not! So c'mon! We need a plan to get them together!" she stood up and turned to the adults, who were now sharing some sort of joke, the kind that made Peter's father turn red and sputter.

Now, Wendy was an intelligent girl, obviously inherited from her mother. She looked nothing like Alfred himself, all brunette and brown-eyed, but she most certainly inherited his natural determination. Everything else, evidently, had to have been inherited from her mother. She wasn't even as hyper as he was!

Still, the display that was put on in front of the adults obviously piqued their interest. Peter got up quickly and ran over as well, just so he wouldn't get left behind. That and it would never do for an adult like him to sit on the ground alone, like a loser.

"So I'm going to be the Queen of Jokers, and Peter's going to be the King of Jokers," Wendy was saying as she stood proud and tall in front of the two men. "And we're about to go to war with the countries of Diamonds, Clubs, and Hearts. We need to ally with the King and Queen of Spades if we're going to stomp them!"

Mr. Jones' face held nothing but amusement as he leaned in closer to his daughter, obviously trying his best not to giggle. "And who are the King and Queen of Spades, Wen?"

Wendy smiled proudly, pointing at Peter's father. "Mr. Kirkland's gonna be the Queen of Spades. And Daddy, you can be the King of Spades."

Peter's father blinked, not used to games such as these. He was usually working quite hard, to the point where Peter had long ago stopped bothering him with these games of playing pretend, even though he had always joined him in the past. Peter said nothing as his father sighed lightly, then smiled at Wendy, reaching out to pat her head.

"Very well," he said as he stood up. "And what should we do to help you in this war, O Queen of Jokers?"

Wendy looked around, carefully, tapping her chin. "Well..." her eyes lit up as soon as she saw the swing set. "The first thing we gotta do is launch an aerial assault!"

Mr. Jones grinned and leaped up, punching the air. "That's my girl! We'll fly some super cool heroes in and make them drop super bombs that will wipe out all the bad guys!"

"Right!" Peter said eagerly, understanding dawning on him at last. "But we will need to strategize. We can only send two planes at a time, or else the enemies will see us and shoot them all down!" with that, he immediately dashed for the swing set, Wendy close on his heels. One look over his shoulder that their fathers were following as well; Mr. Jones running, Mr. Kirkland just strolling along, shaking his head and smiling.

"Are we ready to fly, dudes?" Mr. Jones asked as he immediately made a beeline for a nearby swing. However, one glare from his daughter told him to stop immediately.

Wendy crossed her arms, frowning at her father. "Daddy, you're too big to fit in the cockpit. Everyone knows that Joker planes are designed for Queens only. The Kings have to ride the horses into battle. The Queens need to drop super cool bombs from the air." she walked over to the swing and immediately sat down on it, gesturing for Peter's father to do the same. "We're Queens, after all. We're here for..." she searched for the word. "For... dignities."

It was obvious that Peter's father was about to complain. He eyed the swing set uneasily, opening his mouth, likely to say something about him breaking it if he sat on it. But one pleading look from Peter silenced him, and it was not long before, for the first time since childhood, Arthur Kirkland sat on a swing set.

"Kings, start the engines!" Wendy ordered, looking at Peter meaningfully. Peter scowled at this, realizing that he would not be able to swing, but quickly ran over and took his position behind Wendy. Mr. Jones did the same behind Arthur.

"Alright, dudes, this is your captain speaking," Mr. Jones said, shooting the other man a wink as he did so. "We're about to take off! Hold on to your underwear now, because this is gonna be one awesome ride!" he took a deep breath. "Farewell, my Queen!" with that, he gave an almighty shove, pushing Peter's father all the way to the sky. Mr. Kirkland's eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect O of surprise as he went up and came back down, only to meet another push from Mr. Jones.

Peter, for his part, managed to push Wendy well, sending her quite high, though obviously not high enough for her. She kicked her legs, allowing her to swing higher and higher, until her height was more from her own kicking than from Peter's pushing, but he didn't care. As long as he didn't get another sneaker to the face, he would be just fine.

And there they played, Kings pushing and Queens flying, for what seemed like a full hour. But all too soon, the air raid was done, and Wendy was already running to their next destination. This time, they were the monkey bars, and she was hopping up and down by the time the rest caught up with her.

"Now, since the air raid is successful, we'll need to sneak into enemy territory," she said, rubbing her hands together. "The only way to do that, though, is to swing our way across the lake of molten lava, climb the side of Mount Evil, and then swim down the waterfall to safety!"

It was a simple enough task, since all of them were quite a bit taller than the monkey bars required, and even the clumsy Mr. Jones knew how to be sneaky when he really needed to be. There were plenty of issues with the slide, of course, since Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland were much too large to fit down them, but luckily, Peter was able to find a nice fireman's pole they could slide down instead. It was not quite the waterfall that Wendy wanted, but at least the kingdoms of Spades and Joker would enter enemy territory safely either way.

The final event of the day took place at the spring-mounted ponies on the playground, with Wendy eagerly standing aside as Peter mounted one and her father got on the other. The larger man looked quite silly sitting on the small horse, but at least he seemed to be enjoying himself. Peter's father stood to the side, hands clasped behind his back, smiling just a little at the ridiculous sight before him. After a moment of giggling, Wendy stepped forward and cleared her throat.

"And now, for the final task, it's time for the queens to send their kings off to war with a kiss."

Immediately, Peter gagged, ready to hop off the horse and just run away. His father looked much the same way, all high-strung and pursed-lipped, green eyes darting sharply between Mr. Jones and Wendy, obviously deciding if running away and crushing a child's dreams was worth saving his pride.

"M-Must it be a kiss?" Mr. Kirkland asked, reaching up and tugging at his collar. "Can it not be a hug instead?"

Wendy smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Kirkland, but you're the Queen of Spades, which means you're married to Daddy." she nodded twice, then folded her arms primly. "And if you truly, really, honestly loved Daddy, then you would give him a kiss before he rides to war. Otherwise, you may never see him again and he'll die of a broken heart!"

"Yeah, Art," Mr. Jones snickered as he leaned forward slightly on his horse. "C'mere and give your king a kiss. I won't bite, I promise."

Once again, Peter's father pursed his lips and said nothing. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he walked forward and leaned in, right until his lips briefly brushed against Mr. Jones' cheek. Mr. Kirkland went scarlet and quickly retreated, whereas Mr. Jones' grin only seemed to widen. Triumphant, Wendy turned and quickly pressed a kiss to Peter's cheek, who immediately yelped and shoved her away.

The reprimand he received after was so worth it.

The next week, the park was greeted with an unfamiliar sight: there was no boy and girl running around pretending to be Pokemon Trainers, and there was nobody sitting on the bench where the two blonde men usually sat. Instead, Peter and Wendy found themselves on the floor of the Jones' cosy home, trying to put together a toy telescope that Wendy had received for her birthday. Behind them, on the couch, were their fathers, hands clasped, smiles wide, and faces showing nothing but contentment.

Peter high-fived Wendy when Mr. Kirkland leaned in and pressed another kiss to Mr. Jones' cheek. Mission accomplished.