A/N: Welcome to my Pacifier fic! I do not own the Pacifier, Disney does. God, i wish i owned Vin Diesel though...lol! well, need i say anything more? enjoy!
Chapter 1: Miss Delinquent, Meet Lt. Buzz-kill
"I can't believe you're doing this, mom," Joyce seethed, slumping in the passenger seat of the car. "I don't need a babysitter while you go out of the country. I'm nineteen, I can take care of myself."
"You're staying with him longer than that," her mother, Rose, retorted, driving down a street slowly and searching the numbers on the houses. "Shane's one of the 'guys'."
Joyce snapped her emerald gaze to Rose in horror and sputtered, "O-One of the 'guys'?!"
Rose nodded, still looking around the street.
"Why?!"
"'Why?!'" Rose replied, glancing at her incredulously. "You were arrested last night for drunk driving…for the third time! I've tried not bringing my work and military attitude home, but you're getting to be too much. I can't do this myself anymore. Your father---!" She cut herself off and Joyce looked out the window to hide the sorrow in her eyes as her mother sighed but continued in a low voice. "Your father always took care of discipline."
"Yeah," Joyce replied in the same low voice. The car stopped and Joyce shot her gaze to Rose again as she looked at a house out the driver's window. She was staring at a pretty two-story house with toys scattered around the front lawn. Joyce couldn't deny, the house was pretty, but it didn't seem like a place a former S.E.A.L. would live.
"Uh, he lives here?" Joyce wondered and her mother looked back at her with wide emerald eyes Joyce her inherited from her.
"No," Rose replied, stopping the engine and unbuckling her seatbelt. "He watches the family that lives here sometimes. He also works at the school as the wrestling coach."
"Oh, goody," Joyce groaned, unbuckling her own belt and Rose gave her a glare.
"Don't think you're going to be having any fun," her mother retorted. "I've given him full permission to discipline you his way."
"Whatever," Joyce replied, rolling her eyes and getting out of the car. Rose growled and got out as well, popping the trunk for Joyce to get her suitcase and locking the car. They made their way up the walkway and stood at the door as Joyce pulled out her iPod and stuck the earphones in her ears after Rose rang the doorbell. She looked at her daughter and pulled the earplugs out in one yank.
"Ow!" Joyce squeaked, rubbing her ears as Rose snatched her iPod from her. "Hey---!"
"You're not getting this back until you shape up," Rose replied, wrapping the cord for the earphones around the device.
"Mom, you know I have to have my music," Joyce said, giving her mom a blank look. Pleading with her would do no good, she knew that.
"Well, you'll just have to without it for a while," her mom replied. "When Shane gives me a good report on your behavior, you'll get it back."
Joyce let out a sigh and rolled her eyes as she faced the door again, a hand on her hip, a knee bent. Rose glanced at her and shook her head at her own lack of backbone when it came to her daughter. She could hardly believe she let her walk out of the house the way she was dressed.
Joyce was wearing a black, stylishly shredded tank top with chains on one side that swept around to the back, but did nothing to hide the high cut of the top to show off the side of her stomach. She also wore black studded glove on her left hand and had a fake black tattoo on her upper arm, a tiny denim skirt, fishnet stockings and tall black leather, high-heeled boots.
"What is taking them so long?!" Joyce wondered and took the liberty of banging on the door. A second after she stopped it was open and she was staring at a huge man with a shaven head and brown eyes and she jumped back a bit. His eyes scanned her in evaluation then turned on her mother and he seemed to recognize her.
"Petty Officer," he nodded in a deep voice and he turned his gaze back to Joyce in more disapproving evaluation. "I take it this is your daughter?"
"Yes," Rose groaned and Joyce rolled her eyes at her mother's tone. Shane's eyes flashed at the action and he straightened slightly as she looked back at him.
"What?" she snapped, shrugging the shoulder of tattooed arm.
"Oh, you're gonna have fun here," he replied with a devious smirk, making her scoff and shake her head but he turned back to Rose. "Won't you come in?"
"Thank you," Rose nodded as he stepped aside to let them in. Joyce grabbed her suitcase to follow her mom in but felt it being pulled out of her hand. She looked up at Shane as he simply took the suitcase from her and they both stood tall.
"Thanks," she muttered, walking toward the living room where she saw her mother walking toward the couch.
"Have a seat, please," Shane entreated, leaving Joyce's suitcase next to the door and walking toward them. The two women sat on the couch and Shane went toward the kitchen as he asked, "Would you like something to drink?"
"Just water, please, thank you," Rose replied.
"Do you have beer?" Joyce wondered, leaning over the arm of the couch to face him. Shane stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel to look at her in disbelief.
"How old are you?" he asked and Joyce opened her mouth to answer.
"Too young to drink," Rose interrupted and Shane glared at Joyce who rolled her eyes and sat back in the couch as she crossed her legs.
"That's gonna stop while you're here," he warned her and she only scoffed again as he went to get Rose's water.
"So, where are the Plummers?" Rose wondered as Joyce began twirling a piece of her long, caramel hair in boredom.
"Oh, Julie took the kids to Hawaii for Spring Break," Shane replied. "She wanted me to housesit while they were away. Their mom thought the kids needed some time away from the house."
"That's nice," Rose nodded and Shane came back with her water. Handing her the glass he sat next to her and Joyce sighed in boredom, but they both ignored her. "So, you're staying here until they come back?"
"Yeah," Shane nodded then looked at Joyce. "You're gonna have to sleep on the couch. There's only one guest room and I'm in it."
"Can't you sleep on the couch?" she wondered.
"You're gonna have to earn that guest room, starting now," he replied, pointing a threatening finger at her. Rose only smiled in satisfaction and sat back to let Shane do his thing. "From now on, you're doing things my way…no highway option."
"You realize, I'm not as young as these kids you baby-sit?" Joyce shot back.
"You certainly don't act it," Shane replied and Rose almost choked on her water, snapping Joyce's gaze to her.
"Mom! Do something!" she demanded and Rose only raised an eyebrow at her.
"I thought you said you could take care of yourself, being nineteen and all," Rose retorted. Joyce glared at her mother but the other woman just took another drink of water.
"Alright," Shane cut in, standing and both women looked at him. "First things first, you're not dressing like that anymore."
"What are you? The fashion police?" Joyce spat, standing as well, not letting herself be intimidated by him.
"There are small children that live here," Shane explained. "You're not dressing like a slut in front of them."
"Slut?" Joyce echoed incredulously and Shane only nodded her, making her glare at him.
"You look to be Zoe's size, I'll get some clothes for you," he leaned to rummage through a bag sitting on the coffee table.
"I'm not wearing anything I don't want to, just understand that right now," she warned him as he stood tall with something in his hand.
"You'll wear what you're told," he said, staring down at her. "You'll do what you're told, when you'retold, and you'll go where you're told. Not that you'll be going anywhere I won't be."
Joyce rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.
"Now, your mother tells me you have a tendency to leave without telling her where you're going," Shane went on. "That stops now, too." He gripped her wrist, and she tried to pull away but he held it fast and his other hand slipped something around her wrist and it clocked in place. Joyce pulled her hand away and stared at the huge bracelet in disbelief. "That's a tracking device with a panic button on it. If you touch the panic button, you'd better be dying."
"I just told you, I'm not wearing what I don't want to," Joyce said, holding her arm out. "And I'm not wearing this."
Shane leaned close to her face to stare into her eyes and she inched back only slightly before he said, "Too bad."
"Well, I'd love to see how you handle her further, Lieutenant," Rose chimed in, standing and handing her now empty glass to Shane, "but I have a plane to catch." She turned to her daughter as Shane backed away to go to the kitchen. "I know you probably hate me right now, but do you think I can get a hug before I leave?"
Joyce sighed and shrugged with a small nod. Rose smiled and wrapped her arms around her daughter as Joyce only stood for a moment. She finally pulled her arms around Rose and hugged her back. Shane watched from the kitchen as one Joyce's suspiciously moved down to Rose's waist but looked away to put the glass he'd just washed away.
The two women pulled away and Rose gave Joyce a quick kiss on the cheek before heading for the door, Shane coming out of the kitchen. Joyce slid her hands into the small pockets of her mini-skirt and followed the two to the door.
"Don't worry about your daughter, Petty Officer," Shane assured her as they walked onto the front step. "She'll be safe with me."
"Yeah, mom," Joyce smiled, mockingly and the two looked at her. "Look! He's already given me an awesome gift! Isn't this bracelet pretty?!" She held up her wrist, and her smile disappeared as she rolled her eyes and walked back into the house to head for the kitchen. As she walked away she slid her iPod, which she'd stolen back from her mother's jacket pocket, further into her pocket with a sly smile.
Rose and Shane watched Joyce walk away and Rose let out a sigh in exhaustion. Shane looked back at her as she rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"I'm sorry about this, Shane," she sighed and looked up at him again. "I just--- Ever since Chris died she's been angry and rebellious. This is what I've had to deal with for five years. I'm at my wits end. I thought, maybe you could get through to her since…"
She trailed off, but he knew what she meant and wondered, "Have you tried talking to her about it?"
"I'm not even sure if Chris is the issue," Rose shrugged. "It could be a number of things. Maybe it's me? Maybe it's because I didn't raise her the way I should have."
"Should have?" Shane echoed.
"You know," she shrugged again. "The way you and I were raised."
"Probably would've made things worse," Shane assured her with a slight smirk as Rose sighed again.
"I really appreciate this," she said, sincerely. "I figured this was the closest thing to boot camp I could afford…It's free."
Shane chuckled and nodded then said, "You'd better get going. You'll miss your flight. I'll send you daily reports on her progress."
"I don't expect I'll be seeing her for the next month or so," Rose smirked. "I'm really sorry about this."
"She's in for a rude awakening, Rose," he smirked back. "This is my specialty. You should have seen the Plummer kids before I showed up."
Rose nodded and they shook hands before she headed for the car. Shane watched as she got in and drove away then turned and shut the door. He heard some shuffling in the kitchen and saw Joyce going from the fridge to the pantry. He watched her do this a few times and when she spotted him, she stopped and face him.
"What are looking for?" he asked and her eyes shifted nervously as she shifted her weight slightly.
"Uh…nothing," she lied and Shane glared at her knowingly.
"There's no alcohol here," he told her. "The majority of people who live here aren't old enough to drink…including you. Mrs. Plummer doesn't drink at all, and neither do I, so you're out of luck."
"Damn," she whispered to herself and Shane flashed a burned glance at her.
"You better not curse around the kids when they come back," he warned.
"Or what?" she smirked, leaning on the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room. "You'll slit my tongue in two?"
"I would never do that," he replied, walking to the opposite side of the counter to face her. "That's too much trouble. I'd just cut it out."
Joyce's eyes widened for a split second but they quickly returned to normal size as she swallowed.
"I was kidding," he said, emotionlessly. "I wouldn't do that either."
Joyce only nodded, but still said nothing as he straightened and headed for the front door.
"W-Where're you going?" she called. He didn't answer but he returned to the kitchen with her suitcase and set it on the dining room table to open. She quickly rounded the counter and went to take her suitcase back but he was already rummaging through it.
"What do you think you're---?!"
He cut her off by walking away and into the kitchen. She frowned at him in confusion then turned to suitcase to organize it again. He suddenly came back with a trash bag and shoved her away to put her clothes in it.
"Oh, imitating the fashion police again, are you?" she wondered sarcastically as she just watched him stuff her clothes in the garbage bag.
She knew she couldn't do anything about it. No matter how tough she thought she was, she knew she couldn't take on the training of a former Navy S.E.A.L. He was huge, besides. Any man could over-power her, but this guy would toss her like she was nothing.
Shane tied the bag off and tossed it to her. She caught it with a grunt and he couldn't help but smirk in amusement when she took a step back to balance herself. He closed the suitcase and zipped it shut so the remainder of what was in it wouldn't fall out when he placed it back on the floor.
"We'll stop and leave those at the Salvation Army on our way to the store," he said as he headed for the front door to grab the keys and his jacket.
"Whoa, whoa, wait," she called and he stopped as he turned to frown at her. "My clothes aren't going to the Salvation Army! They're designer! I can't just get rid of them like this!"
"Look, none of these clothes are regulation in this house," he explained, militantly. "And come to think of it…you're not going out like that."
Shane gripped her wrist and she dropped the bag as he started dragging her down the hall and up the stairs. He marched into the guest room and let go of her wrist to walk to the bureau and pull out some clothes.
"Uh, I'm not wearing any of your clothes," she said, pulling her earphones from her ears and shutting off her iPod. "They're gonna be too big."
He said nothing as he turned and tossed a shirt and some pants at her then held up one of his belts and asked, "Do you know how to use this kind of belt?"
"Yes," she groaned, rolling her eyes and he only tossed the belt to her and headed for the door.
"Get changed," he ordered and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
He headed down the stairs and grabbed the bag of her clothes and hurried to the back to throw it in the dumpster. Those clothes weren't fit for anyone. He couldn't believe some of the blouses and skirts…more accurately lack thereof…he'd seen in that case. Couldn't have her running around in practically nothing, for the Plummer kids sake's and for her own.
Shane walked back into the house and stood at the bottom step of the stairs to shout, "Hurry up, Lynch!"
He walked to the door and grabbed his jacket and the keys to the mini van then pulled on his jacket and stuffed the keys in the pocket. He tried to think of what her name was. He only knew her last name, but he couldn't remember her first name. He shrugged when he couldn't think of it and tapped an impatient foot when she still didn't come down.
"Lynch! Hurry up! I don't have all day!" he boomed from his place. He finally heard her footsteps slowly heading down the stairs. He slouched and gave her a displeased look when he saw her come down.
She'd pulled pants up just enough to be make-shift hip huggers, the belt was too loose and she'd tucked the pant legs into her tall leather boots she'd arrived in. Not only that, but she'd pulled the white shirt into a knot in the back so that it showed her mid-drift.
"Kay," she shrugged cutely as she leaned on the railing. "Let's go!"
"No," he said, flatly and headed toward her. She faced him as he stood in front of her on the bottom step and she stood on the second-to-last step. He bent down and grabbed one of her pant legs to yank it up then down over the boots.
"Hey!" she shouted, trying to move away, but he grabbed one of her ankles and she fell back onto her rear to sit on a higher step as Shane yanked the other pant leg over her boot. "The whole point of that is so that I can show off my awesome boots, Lieutenant Oblivious!"
"Too bad!" he shot back and grabbed her arms to stand her up as she stared at him in disbelief.
"'Too bad'?" she repeated. "Are you kidding me?!"
He didn't respond as he grabbed hold of the waistband on her pants and yanked them up past her belly button then pulled the military belt tighter until it was securely holding the pants at her waist. She watched him do all of this with wide eyes and he reached for the knot in the shirt, untied it and pulled it down to cover her stomach.
"Dude, you don't seriously expect me to go out looking like this?!" she hoped with wide eyes and he shot his gaze to hers.
"You will not call me 'Dude'," he ordered. "As your superior officer, you will address me as 'Sir'."
Joyce's face darkened and Shane was slightly taken aback by it, but it didn't show on his face.
"I'm not a soldier or officer whatever you call it," she started, through gritted teeth. "And you're not my father. My dad disciplined me because my mom said she couldn't, and now she's left me here with you, thinking she can whip me into shape because she couldn't do it herself. Just to be clear, I do the things I do because I want to. Dad's dying has nothing to do with it. I know that's what my mother thinks, and I know that's what you think, too. Don't try to figure me out…Sir!"
She shoved past him on the steps and headed for the door and Shane watched as she stood at semi-attention next to the door. He was a bit surprised at how militant her stance was.
"Are we going, or what?!" she snapped as he only stared at her for a moment then he turned to the door and they walked out to the mini van, Shane leading the way.
"I cannot believe my mother has left me with you while she's gone," she grumbled as they got in and they both pulled on their seatbelts then she slumped in her seat. "I didn't even get anything to eat before we left."
Shane glanced over at her and felt a twinge of guilt. With what Rose had told him of her, and what he was witnessing herself, she deserved what was coming---Shane Wolfe's Personal Boot Camp---but he couldn't help but feel bad that it was happening this way. He decided, against his better judgment and most likely against Rose's wishes, that he'd try to make it up to her a little.
"We'll stop and get something to eat on the way," he said and Joyce looked up at him with wide eyes as he started the van. Her eyes narrowed to a glare and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Don't try to make for mom leaving me with you, it won't work," she spat and turned to stare out the window. There was no scenery but she didn't want to look at him.
"If you're hungry, you should eat," Shane replied, simply. "Starving you is no way to discipline you."
"Whatever," she shrugged and as he pulled out of the drive way she glanced at him a few times before she muttered, "Thanks."
Shane didn't reply. He was sure she didn't want him to hear it by the way she'd said so softly, but he had, and he couldn't help the smirk that flicked over his lips but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared. He told himself not to rub it in, that'll just make it worse, but he appreciated her thanks.
A/N: well? how's it so far? reviews?