where clayton comes back from the olympics a ‘grandpa’
pairing: clayton keller x mom!reader
summary: clay’s little girl discovers tina the plushie in his suitcase when he comes back home from the olympics, which she brings with her everywhere - including her dad’s work.
warnings: none. pure fluff. dad!clay
A SMILE TAKES HIS FACE when he gets asked the question:
“and what about the little stuffie you got? the little plushie at the ceremony? that going in the trophy case?”
clayton smiles, his hands on his hips as he speaks into the microphones after his first practice back from the olympics. “no, uh—my little girl got that,” he laughs a little, “yeah, she—she won’t let me put that in any trophy case, that’s hers now . . i’d have to pry that out of that tiny, iron grip.”
he remembers forgetting all about the plushie to be honest, finding it a little stupid to have received alongside his gold medal at the ceremony, but hey, what was he supposed to do? say no thank you?
his case had been abandoned on the bedroom floor, left open just because he needed his phone charger to plug in overnight. the next morning when he woke up, he felt almost fully recharged, having had one of the best sleeps since his break after being stuck with a single, cardboard-like bed in the olympic village. last night he came home to you, in your bed, and slept like a baby after being welcomed back home an olympic-gold champ.
he woke up to the sound of tiny, padding feet on the floorboards of the home, one eye opening instinctively because he knew what that sound meant. they stop at the door, and slowly it creaks open. “. . . danddy?”
her voice is always muffled by that dang pacifier, as clayton calls it, but can admit to himself he’ll miss the sound of his little girl’s voice and mispronounced words when she has it in her mouth, so doesn’t fight as much to get her to give it up. she’s only two, he’ll give her another year.
his smirk grows as he has the perfect view of her pushing the heavy door with both her tiny hands, puzzling the pieces of her daddy’s suitcase and clothes on the floor to the bed where she sees him lying and rushes on into the room — only to come to a halt.
clayton is sitting up, beaming with a smile as he awaits his welcome home cuddles from his baby girl, but he watches how she fiddles with her hands, scratching the back of one with the other with her tiny fingernails while directing her full attention to the case. “hey! where’s my kisses?” he speaks in that soft and gentle, full-of-innocence tone he keeps specially reserved for her, wondering what she’s distracted by. she continues making her way towards him, toddling over in her fluffy pyjamas, her head still twisted to his luggage.
he scoops her up with a groan, holding her in the air as he lays back down with her in his arms, pulling her into his chest. he feels her small arms wrap around him under his own, having taught her what a proper hug was. he squeezes her not too hard, but enough in his strong arms - enough that usually makes her smile so much she almost drops her binky from her mouth. her hair is even more messed up when he lets go, his heart leaping even faster at the sight of her in her post-sleep daze; wild hair, tired eyes, skin so soft and clean from her nightly bath the night before. clayton continues his routine with a fury of kisses attacking her cheeks, always tickling her soft skin with the short stubble on his chin.
lainey usually plays into it, squeals and giggles at the ticklish feeling, at the dramatics of her daddy showing her how much he missed her - but today she’s completely stolen by something. clayton feels it when she subtly fights him off her, her small hand lying flat against his chest when she pushes off him to get a look at the suitcase again.
he scans her, analysing her features as if he can figure out what she’s thinking, and she scratches her ear, eyes still in a daze as he holds her in his arms, his whole hand almost covering her small back. “what’re you looking at bug, huh?” he mumbles against her cheek, not done kissing the life out of her.
getting called up to the olympics had to be one of the best experiences of his life, but by god, did he miss his little girl. three weeks was way too long.
“what’s in’at?” she turned to face him, her eyes focusing on her itchy hand.
“what’s in what?” he pressed his forehead to hers.
“over ‘ner,” she twisted her body and pointed to the case on the floor, twisting back to look at him.
“go show me,” clayton responds, letting her go, completely lost on what she could be talking about. at first, he thinks it could be his medal, and then he remembers: you wore it last. at the thought, he glances over at you at the reminder, only to see you still dead and naked to the world, head hiding under your pillow. he spots the medal on your bedside table, ribbon draped over the edge.
lainey trots over to the case, falling over clayton’s shoe but gets up without flinching, too set on her mission.
clay’s eyes narrow as he watches her reach for something in the top right of his case, pulling it out with a bit of trouble. then she looks at him, the item clutched in her hand by the ear, and toddles back over to him.
he melts all over again, at the fact she comes back over to show him the belonging instead of automatically assuming it to be hers. “ohhh,” he feigns excitement, scooping her back up into bed again. she hands him the long, white mouse thing, eyes dancing between it and him, big and wide, patiently waiting for him to say the words.
“this is—tina,” he smoothly reads the label off her ear before snapping it off and handing it back to her, “i brought her back just for you. she’s yours,” his voice is sickenly soft again, eyes watching her like a hawk in anticipation of her reaction. “she’s your new baby.”
the tot’s eyes sparkle with adoration with tina in her hands, her smile coming through enough he can see it through her binky. then, she claps the bear-rodent thing tight, squishing her into a hug just the way he had done moments before, face to chest, with her. “tina!” she giggles loudly, like even her name is funny. clayton nods, smiling just as big himself. “yeah! you’re gonna have to be her mommy, take care of her,” he pokes her belly, watching his little girl’s eyes fill with love and excitement for her new toy.
“i’m be your mommy,” it comes out muffled again with the pacifier, but it’s just as sweet, and so soft, and clayton’s heart melts as he watches her whisper it almost in realisation to the toy. then, she brings tina to her chest again, the plushie’s head to her shoulder, and pats the back comfortingly with her tiny hand.
clay tries not to implode.
tina goes wherever lainey goes for a while. if lainey is in her high chair, tina is at the table. if lainey’s in the bath, tina is waiting on the closed toilet seat. bed? car? shopping cart? tina is set beside her. it’s a given, a common thing both you and clay know your daughter (and most children) tend to do when a new toy is introduced. tina’s gotten a good streak though, even managing to make it to the car where you and clay have a 1-toy-only rule that was always and had only been reserved for tusky — but after lainey put up a good argument (squealing match) clay had to give in just so she would shut up. his eardrums thank him for it.
so, tina was the new favourite. no one compared to tusky, but even clayton thought the mammoth plushie looked a lot lonelier since tina came along.
tusky was lainey’s comfort. he was different from any other toy she had.
you remembered when she’d misplaced him at the rink one day, and it was utter carnage. after sitting in on a practice session a while back (and chasing the two-year-old most of the time while she explored the stadium) you had to rule out that no toy came to the rink after he’d gone missing. it was actually a traumatic experience for all three of you. clayton was sickened by the place and didn’t even want to go to work the next day after searching every inch of space for that damn stuffie mammoth. you could not calm lainey’s sobs when she realised what she’d done, and you were scared she’d actually be sick with how upset she was.
you don’t even remember where clay found him, but you remembered his face when he revealed it was somewhere real stupid.
after that, you hated when he left the house. he could come on game days as long as he was safely secured in your handbag, or given to you or clay to push in the shopping cart in the market, he was even allowed to stay at nana and papa’s, but other than that, he was heavily discouraged to leave the house. not when lainey ran every corridor there was to run, climbed between every chair there was to climb, and hid in lockerooms and showers and rooms even her daddy didn’t know existed like that one day at the rink.
and lainey had gladly accepted that consequence because she loved the elephant so much, she never wanted to risk losing him again, reminded by how upsetting and frightening the situation was.
so, clayton knew exactly where tina stood in lainey’s life. “you’re just a side thing, tina,” he spoke to the rodent-thing after lainey had given him it to mind while you slipped her backpack on. “you’ll be at the bottom of the toy box by next month—”
“CLAY!” you scolded, questioning his actions right now.
it was early morning. you were looping the straps of lainey’s backup onto her arms when you paused, “now do you need to go pee-pee before you get in the car? because daddy’s not gonna be able to stop the car,” you give her a stern look, about to zip her coat up.
she stares back, blinking, carbon copy of his big blue eyes looking back at yours before you raise your brows, and she gasps, acting shocked, covering her mouth (which still had her binky in it). “momm-i-need-go-peepee!” she says it full of surprise, voice getting higher.
“i knew it,” you whisper, letting out a sigh before taking her hand and leading her back upstairs, feeling her pull to the side beforehand.
“tina, quick! you go your gampa,” muffled, she holds the plushie to clayton, who takes it with a blank stare at his kid.
“we’ll be quick, grandpa,” you shoot him a wink, scooping up the toddler and running you both upstairs.
clayton shakes his head, leaning his weight on the doorframe while he waits for you to come back.
he hates to be that guy, and he knows he isn’t, but deep down, part of him worries the team think he’s an obnoxious leader who thinks ‘cause he’s captain that he can do certain things they can’t — which is bringing his kid to work with him. it’s rare, he’s only ever done it once before and it was when lainey was just a three months old and no-one was available to watch her.
you’d both been up early, him about to head to the rink, you beginning your day with the first morning feed at 6am when the phone rung. your friend was in an emergency, with no-one else to come get her and you, sensing the sheer panic in her tone, threw on the first pile of clothes sitting at the top of the laundry basket and ran out to get her, telling clayton to just bring lainey to the rink with him.
it was a walk in the park, really. he felt weird showing up to work with a practical newborn but there wasn’t a single person who was upset he had brought his baby to the centre. he got to introduce the team to lainey for the first time, let them hold and interact with her in the locker room, apologising profusely to his coaches who waved him off and awaited their turn with the baby. it was great! she was a hit with the team - her second family. clay got to train as normal while lainey, wrapped in the coziest of clothes, hats and blankets, slept blissfully in her carrier seat by the analytics team, getting checked on by her daddy every time he skated in that direction.
your friend had been unexplainably grateful for your help, and when you’d called clay to tell him you’d come collect your daughter, he told you she was fine and to take you and your friend for brunch to spend some girl time together. he even sent you money to treat you both.
that was when lainey’s schedule involved 80% nap time - when she just needed fed, winded and changed before getting rocked back to sleep.
now, she wasn’t even three yet, but at the age what most people described as the ‘terrible twos’ — she wasn’t even terrible, she was just . . always into something, saying something, after something. awful attitude when it came out, but clay had faith she’d do himself and herself proud with her usual gentleness.
she wouldn’t be as easy this time, but you had a last minute emergency appointment you could not let slide with the amount of pain you’d been in the last few weeks, so he just had to suck it up and bring her.
if she was bad, she was bad. he’d take her back home, but coach couldn’t say he didn’t try to come to work.
“you gonna have fun today? be good for daddy and be a good girl?” he clicks her seatbelt into place as she sits in her car seat. he doesn’t know if he’s asking or speaking it into existence.
lainey nods, and then clayton goes to shut the door, and she calls him. “wait! daddy wait!” her cute, groggy voice makes his heart stop, and he looks back in at her, and she points to tina next to her with one finger. “y’need to buckle tina in.”
he lifts his head in acknowledgment, closes her door, then rounds to the other side, shaking his head before opening the other side and buckling tina into her seat with the seatbelt. he looks at lainey, who looks satisfied, kicking her feet with her hands interlocked on her lap. “good girl tina,” she compliments, looking ahead, ready for the journey to start.
the drive isn’t that long. lainey is quiet, looking out the window while clayton makes a smooth journey to the rink, sipping his coffee and asking her if she’s alright every so many songs.
“arms up,” he says, when unbuckling her belt to lift her out. he plucks her in his arm, grabbing his bag next from the trunk and locks the car when lainey reminds him of who he’s forgetting.
he circles the other side of the car, about to pluck the bear when lainey calls, “tina! arms up,” she demonstrates her actions which makes clayton laugh warmly into himself. he unbuckles tina and gives her to lainey, kissing her soft brown hair on her head. “i love you.”
“love you,” she says back on instinct, eyes glued to her toy. she lifts it to her ear and then looks at her dad. “tina lovesh her gandpa,”
he keeps a straight face upon entering the building, tone flat. “does she?”
when clayton enters the locker room with lainey in his arms, the room erupts in soft cheers and celebration, ridding him of any anxieties before. clay shakes his head, setting her down once the door closes behind him.
“lainey keller!”
“miss laineyyy!”
“we missed you lainey bear, where you been?”
they fight for her attention, and there’s too many familiar faces, she doesn’t know who to go to first, so she kind of just . . freezes.
clay nudges her with his knee, and she barely budges, until he’s nudging her all the way along to his box.
there’s so much going on for her, she doesn’t know where to look, so she just follows her dad.
“why are you being shy?” he says, throwing his stuff down, but she’s not even looking at him. she’s so tiny next to him, little hands holding her teddy for comfort, mini version of his shoes edging closer to him until she’s pressed against his legs, wide eyes darting everywhere.
“lainey,” he snaps her out of her daze, scooping her up in his arms again. “why you being shy?” he mumbles between them, trying to catch her eyes. “huh? all your uncles are here, look — there’s uncle dylan,” he points to him, “and uncle cool—”
“uncle coowleyyy!” she cheers as he approaches, allowing her dad to pass her along.
“wow, who is this you got?” he taps tina.
“my grandchild,” clay deadpans.
that starts a chorus of laughter from the locker room, the guys finding this new bit of information hilarious. “wow! old man has a new title!”
“i thought you were lookin’ a little gray yesterday.”
“hey, congrats cap.”
today, everyone is a little bit everywhere, rotating a schedule. there’s few guys training on the ice, some doing media, some watching back previous footage, and some taking their shift in watching baby keller - or following behind her, rather.
lainey has warmed a bit again, confident in her surroundings as she shamelessly potters around the place while clayton is able to sneak off and get a few things done. he tries to watch some film with lainey on his knee but she was happy enough to explore the centre with cools and dylan.
when she returns, she has two new tusky mascot toys under her arms.
clayton shoots a look at the two boys, his face utterly unimpressed. “what the hell are you guys doing?”
“we took her to the gift shop. she . . y’know . . she wanted the new tusky toys . .”
clayton stares blankly, scooping his tot up with a shake of his head, “yeah, ‘cause that’s all she needs,” he walks off, “unbelievable.”
“hey! don’t be annoyed, gramps!”
“yeah, gramps, she really wanted ‘em!”
clayton brings lainey to the ice. wearing his skates in his regular clothing, he places her on the barrier with her legs dangling over the edge, skates tightly secured on her feet. they’re heavy and not used to, and she keeps looking at them, kicking her feet until clayton tells her to stop because of how annoying the banging is. he’s had her on the ice once before, but she was in a tired, fussy mood and drained the fun out of it for them both.
the admin girls enter the rink as he laces her skates up, and immediately clock the two at the side. “clayton,” they approach excitedly yet calmly, “do you mind giving us a few seconds . . for the two of you to answer some questions or something? . . you can say no.”
clayton looks at them, and looks at lainey.
she’s already hypnotised by the mini mammoth wrapped around admin’s microphone.
he almost sighs, nodding, knowing lainey isn’t a stranger to the media.
when your kids that cute, how could he possibly not post her on the rare occasion? she’s fucking adorable.
he makes sure her nose is clean, scrapes the loose strands of hair from her face. “yeah sure.”
“yay! hi lainey!” the girls greet, and lainey looks at them, inspecting them and their colourful clothing, hat and accessories.
“lainey say hi.”
she lifts a hand, attempting a wave, eyes still on the mammoth microphone. clayton takes the binky from her mouth.
“hi lainey, can you tell us who you’re with today?”
she looks up at her dad, who looks back down at her with raised brows, the editor undoubtedly zooming in on it and the way he taps the teddy in her hands. “who’s this?”
“tina,” she answers.
“is tina here to watch your dad skate?”
she nods.
“are you a good skater, lainey?”
she looks up at clayton again, who nods his head.
“no,” she answers, banging her skates on the boards again.
clay smirks at her honesty, subconsciously cleaning her nose from her yoghurt earlier, “not yet,” he corrects, smiling down at her. “isn’t that right?”
“mhm.” she plucks the pacifier from clays hands and puts it in her mouth, and he lets her.
“is your dad gonna teach you how to skate today?”
“mhm,” she’s says, half-daydreaming, then sits tall, holding tina above her head. “tina!”
“and tina?!”
she nods exaggeratedly.
“does lucky like tina?”
“wucky!” she cheers, swinging her legs as if she forgot all about him.
“is lucky your doggy?”
“mm-hmm.”
“lainey how many points is your dad gonna score tomorrow?”
“mmmm,” she’s not even thinking of a number, she’s too busy watching the guys fire pucks into the empty net. too busy always falling in to a daydream.
“laines,” clay grabs her attention. “pick a number.”
“five.” she randomly picks, not even knowing what it’s for anymore.
“five?”
“mhm.”
they camera zooms to clay who has a look that kind of awkwardness about him now that his daughter has just set him up for failure . . applying pressure by saying a number with such confidence. “uhhh.”
they don’t keep them long. the girls give lainey a little tiny mammoth clayton can’t help but roll his eyes at but thanks them appreciatively for it, and tells lainey too, as well. they leave shortly after that. after, clayton sets her on the ice, throwing tina over the boards when she’s not looking and stays behind her. “i need both your hands.” 
her hands just about hold onto two of his fingers, but it’s enough for clayton to keep a steady grip on her. he’s been wanting to get her back in skates for a while, but everytime he brings it up, it’s like the two-year-old has a clean cut memory of that day she was too tired to work out why the floor was slippy and why her boots were heavy; why she had to wear this hard, itchy hat and why her daddy wouldn’t just pick her up instead of making her struggle to so much as to lift her leg in the freezing cold.
“ok, you just walk to daddy,” he says, facing her.
he really just wants to take the time to get her comfortable on the ice, to build her confidence and balance on the blades. he was worried leaving it so long after the first time would instil fear into her to ever return to an ice rink, so he was adamant to get her to have some fun.
clayton (barely) skates backwards, slowly with focus as his eyes remain locked on your baby. she keeps looking down and clayton tries not to correct her in a way that makes the whole thing feel like a lesson, so he just keeps saying, “look at daddy! look at daddy!”
her tiny skates click and clack, she wobbles and slips but she never falls. he always catches her or pulls her up before she can. “lainey, you need to look at me. don’t look at your feet.” he says in that stern voice he always uses when she’s not paying attention.
she makes the first whingeing sound, her brows furrowing in irritation as she quickly becomes fed up of being told what to do, but clayton is adamant to get her to enjoy this. “look, me and tina are going to skate and you have to be better than her! you better show her how to do it.” he makes it a challenge, eyes holding her attention. “go.”
she hangs onto every word he says, and when he lightly pulls her to him, she lifts her feet again with some soft clacks, egging a smile to his face. “yes! well done baby!” he cheers, heart leaping with pride as he sees a glimpse of the smile on her lips as she takes further steps forwards. he doesn’t let go of her hands.
they remain on the ice for ten minutes. lainey falls twice but clay is quick to pull her to her feet again, not giving her the time to cry about it. “uh–oh, up again!”
it becomes a game, until she falls and he drags her up, and her head is tilted back, clearly done with the amount of failure and ready for a strop - but the second she sees her daddy upclose in her face, giggles erupt around them as he makes a certain face at her.
clayton leaves her still and steady for a couple seconds before leaving about a step of space between them, encouraging her to come to him. however, one step without his grip almost had her landing face first on the rink, and he scooped her before she could, giving in to the whining this time as he took the progress today as a win. “ok, ok, well done baby. well done,” he glides off the ice with her in his arms, “you did soooo good,” he kisses her cheek repeatedly after unbuckling the helmet. “daddy is so proud of you.” he kisses her again.
he gives her a snack back in the locker room, gets her back in her regular shoes and has a quick snuggle while she watches a short, 5-minute episode of a cartoon on his phone while eating. the morning hadn’t been bad at all, real tiring, but no tantrums, no tears, and more work had been done than he thought would.
some of the guys stand around, answering questions in relation to the upcoming game while most begin to untie their skates and hang up their gear for the day.
clayton sits in his stall, talking with his teammates while balancing his two-year-old who stands next to him on the seat, poking through his equipment - which sends a glove to the floor and almost knocks his stick over. tired by the banging, he lifts her down, unable to focus on what jj is saying and pushes her towards anywhere else without even looking. “go get toy—tina.”
lainey rustles through his bag instead, tina under her arm, then gives tina to him, then takes her back, then hands her over again. this occurs at least three more times.
“go to gandpa.”
“no tina. no hitting your gandpa!”
“gandpa, gandpa, tina needs her — needs her snack.”
clayton is trying not to be rude. he’s listening and looking to his friends who are explaining their reasoning behind their latest techniques, but with lainey’s constant tapping and blabbering of demands for her fake animal - its hard for him to stay cool - especially when they’re trying not to laugh themselves every time she says the word ‘gandpa’. he lifts her up again next to him with a small bag of animal crackers to share, hoping it will keep her quiet while he packs up so they can get home.
“clayton, do you think you could give us a minute to talk with you?” a woman next to a camera smoothly chimes in, holding a mic in her hand. he complies, standing to his feet.
“first of all, we just want to take the time to congratulate you on your win at the olympics, how has it been since returning back home?”
“thank you, yeah, it’s been great. a huge accomplishment but i think i’m ready to just get to work again with the team, get to work with the boys and focus on the next thing which is securing a spot in the playoffs in the coming weeks, um . . yeah.”
he eyes his daughter who is back on the floor again, eyes wandering around her.
“after such an intense campaign, did you feel like you needed a bit of a break before getting back to work or do you feel ready to jump straight back into it?”
lainey is by his side again, saying something he tries to block out along with the tapping of her hand on his leg. “um, yeah, i’m happy to continue where we left off. i think there are pros and cons to both, obviously it’s been a long season and mentally you’re pretty drained as it is so a few days to switch off never hurts . . but at the same time, you don’t want to lose that rhythm you’ve built up so — i was excited to get back and start preparing for what’s next. i feel good, i’m more than eager to get straight to—”
“—go to your gandpa,” the voice is clear as she approaches the microphones, shoving the plushie in her dad’s hands who takes it without a word. “gandpa—daddy hold her.”
clayton rambles on with his answer although his eyes are on his daughter and his movements comply with her orders, his arms coming to cradle the toy while still talking. “—is all i’m focused on right now.”
“do you feel winning the gold medal, and other things, has given you a real boost in confidence, both personally and professionally?”
clayton tries not to snicker a laugh, but it’s impossible when the reporter’s eyes glimpse at the teddy in his arms when saying ‘and other things’. “and other things, yeah, this,” he holds up the toy, “this is the biggest motivator at the minute,” he breaks, sending others in the room laughing alongside with him. “—reminding me who i’m doing it for, my—my grandchild,” he looks at lainey as he speaks because she’s watching him like he better not be making a joke out of her and baby tina. “isn’t that right? i do this for you . . ?”
as always, lainey lets him down with silence.
the camera pans to lainey who looks up at him, but both their faces are as sincere as can be, it melts the hearts of anyone viewing it because it’s clear as day to see that clayton keller is one good daddy, and he has a special connection with his baby girl. “yeah i definitely feel more motivated and encouraged from all that’s came from over the course of the olympic break, the support has been amazing from everyone around me, the fans — it just drives us to put the work in. we want to win.”
she nods. “thank you.”
“thank you,” he nods back, finally lifting up his babygirl who won’t stop tapping his leg.
when he does, lainey stares at the media woman, barely blinking, clayton tries to see what else it could be, but she just stares in silence. she has his intense gaze. “lains. stop it.”
she looks to her dad, then lazily back to the woman, before setting her head down under his neck, hand coming up to hold onto his shirt, then the chain peeking out of it. “my daddy.”
“i am your daddy, i’m all yours,” he kisses the top of her head. “you want tina?” he scoops up the plush, giving it to her. “you and tina ready to go home? have a little nap in the car?”
for once, she doesn’t argue over the word nap. instead, she nods, completely busted after the day and snuggles in closer to her daddy, tina clutched tightly in her arm.
clay smiles, kissing her head, and lifts his things. “ok baby, let’s go home.”
before he takes another step, the toddler lifts her teddy to his mouth. clayton looks at her, seeing the instructions in her eyes, and kisses tina on the head. without needing to voice her satisfaction, lainey smiles to herself, and tucks the rodent under her arm, ready to go home.
