jackson kenner.

“You can’t write ‘cause you’re too busy fucking. It’s not rocket science,” she shrugged at the blonde, smirk on her face, nudging a glass of water toward her despite her insistence. Fiona knew all too well how distracting a partner could be, the world and all her responsibilities within it feeling a million miles away when they were alone. Realising what she’d just heard, Fiona turned toward Elena, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Uh, you were a cheerleader?” She snorted, unable to even picture that kind of life. “Jesus. We were definitely raised on opposite sides of the track. — Why’d you quit?”

Her mind was a flurry of curse words as she watched her father’s unconscious form. Not even a war could keep him from stumbling his way back home, and although Fiona knew her younger kids would be relieved to see him, and perhaps a part of her she buried was too, the gall of his behaviour infuriated her. She should’ve known she wouldn’t have long until he showed up at their door, demanding a handout. But she’d allowed herself to get swept away by her new life, ignoring anything that might threaten it. Regretting that now, Fiona debated what to do, wondering if there was any way she could still keep this from the kids. She was so lost in the thought, the hand on the small of her back made her jump. Jackson. For a split second, she felt relief, only for it to be consumed by anger again. Without even having said a word, her father had overtaken every thought in her brain, pulled focus from someone she actually wanted to focus on.

Despite the sight of Frank crashed out in front of them, Jackson’s focus remained on Fiona, tracking her heartrate, picking up on the chemosignals in her scent. It was the first time he’d sensed her distress in such a high bout, and so Jackson felt that anger with her, along with a burning desire to resolve her woes. He’d been without it for only minutes, but he already missed her smile, hating the change of pace. “He sounds like a damn cockroach,” Jackson muttered, his tone lifting in humour despite the fact that he meant it. He was naturally against speaking ill of Fiona’s family, as he’d never wish to be disrespectful, but this was different. Anyone who made her feel this way entirely deserved it, father or not. 

Having run into him at the Alibi, Fiona had known for a few days now that Frank had found his way to Alexandria. But she’d made no mention of it to anyone yet, not even her siblings, desperate to avoid the drama. The kids were finally settling in, she was finally settling in, falling headfirst into a relationship she’d never seen coming. She didn’t want the dream to shatter. She didn’t want her soul-sucking father driving them all apart. With all the kids now in bed, Fiona was spending quality time with Jackson on their couch, straddling him between her legs, resting on his lap. They’d become insatiable for each other, every spare moment she found throughout the chaos of her days spent with him. Even when she wasn’t free, he was around, getting to know her family. If she’d had any time to slow down and think about it, she’d have been terrified. But nothing was getting in her way. Nothing, perhaps, except her father. The pair were only just warming up when there was a sharp knock at the door. Fiona elected to ignore it, muttering for them to fuck off; but Jackson seemed particularly curious by whoever was there. With a groan, she climbed off him, patted down her hair and answered the door. On the top step was the chief of police, and sprawled out on the bottom step was her drunken dad. “You’ve gotta be fucking kiddin’ me.” She spoke before Jim had the chance to, earning her some raised eyebrows in response. Waving off the explanation that followed, having heard it all a million times before, she thanked the officer, allowing him to leave. Now scowling at the figure at the bottom of the stairs, Fiona shook her head, completely forgetting she had company. “Nope. No fuckin’ way.”

Without even realising it, Jackson had fully immersed himself into the Gallagher household. Although he’d only initially been present for Fiona, natural instinctive duties had taken over, and suddenly he was walking the kids to school, cooking them dinner, fixing anything around the home when it broke. He’d come to care for them as his own, despite the short time frame, and he almost couldn’t believe how easy the transition from strangers to family had been. There were still doubts, of course, mainly from the elder brothers, but Jackson had no issue with proving himself and building that trust. He understood it was earned, especially considering what the Gallagher’s had been through. As his relationship with Fiona developed, so did his relationship with her siblings. Part of him felt as though he’d always been there.