Diamonds Dancing

Eleven "Part 1"

PART ONE

He could feel the migraine rapidly changing, but fortunately, the meddling fingers tracing every single marking embedded deeply into his tainted skin helped him to concentrate on the ticklish sensation, rather than the continuous dull throb.

That was one thing he had become well-accustomed to over the years, his tattoos were something that fascinated many. And yet, the only two people that were allowed to touch them, and trace over them as much as they wanted to, were the tiny girls perched on top of his lap.

They were as nosy as the rest of the world were when it came to his excessive ink, already understanding that their father wasn't like any of the other 'normal' dads they saw regularly.

Truthfully speaking, sometimes he wished he could start all over again, and have no tattoos to save them from their endless amount of embarrassment. He never wanted them to be humiliated about the way he looked, although being in the industry, he was known for his 'scary' image.

But then he remembered that his tattoos were apart of who he was, and as much as it made him doubt his fatherhood, his sweet daughters seemed to love the fact that he was one of a kind.

More importantly, they loved to catch the sight of their names and faces dotted throughout his entire body.

Slater grumbled lowly, feeling the hands around his neck tighten as the private jet jolted ever so slightly. Not even two full seconds later, he heard a loud wail sound directly in his ear.

"Look out of the window." His croaky voice travelled through the tight space, baby blue skies and fluffy white clouds filled every window inside of the gold-encrusted jet.

Lilia shrieked louder, shoving her red face into her father's neck, the rocky motions were causing her more anguish. "I don't wanna!" She cried out, her tiny body convulsing against his chest. "It keeps growling at me like an ugly monster, make it stop Daddy!"

Another small bout of turbulance hit, in response she clamped her eyes shut and squeezed his neck harder.

"Don't be ridiculous, there's nothing to be afraid of." He sighed, one arm wrapped around the frightened child, and another around his little bookworm. "Look at Jan, she's not scared, is she?" Janessa snapped her head over to look at her sister, a frown forming on her concerned face.

She looked back at Slater who gave her a warning look and tried her hardest not to giggle.

"Sissy..." she trailed off, finding the whole situation ridiculous as a snort sounded. "It's just the sound of the engine, duh." There it was, the know-it-all comment, he didn't expect anything else to come out of the smart ass's lips. "and it doesn't growl, it roars."

His lips quirked up at her comment, hazel eyes flickering onto the book clasped tightly in her hands. "You finished the book on airplanes already, mishka?" He asked his eldest daughter out of curiosity, he had no idea where she got her obsession.

Neither him nor her mother had been avid book readers.

He thought back to the day she had come into his studio to ask for an actual book, and not the kind of children stories she would read every night, but a hard-hitting, substantial novel.

You see, every year the girls would come into his music haven and sit on his lap to tell him what they wanted 'Santa' to get them. And that very year, as it was her time to spill the details on what present she so desperately wanted, he couldn't say he was prepared for her answer. It wasn't the asking of a book that had startled him, no, it was the sheer idea that six-year-old, Janessa Kamille; his first baby girl, and his very own mini-me, had asked for a complete collection of the Sherlock Holmes stories.