Characters: Ginger McAvery and Sam Ruiz
Setting: Backdated to last Wed, LA- California.
Rating: SFW, most likely- language warnings.
Content: Sam and Ginger have plans to spend Wednesdays out at the Beach. But before they get to the beach, they have to survive Ginger's feuding parents.

Shopping with Avery had been a blast, and her room was covered with new bags that were waiting for just the right spot to live in her drawers, or to be packed up to take back to school. It was like Christmas, but without all the silly waiting for that one special day! But better yet? Sammy was going to be over at any moment, which almost dimmed the amazing night spent watching movies with her best friend. Excitedly she’d dressed in her new bikini, and finding the perfect tank top and skirt to go with it, before racing down stairs to the kitchen.

“Hey, Daddy!” She squeaked, beaming brightly as she skidded around the island and wrapped her arms about him in a tight hug¸ though it went unreturned. “Sammy is coming over and we’re going to go to the beach, so like…we totally won’t be around much, kay?”

Alexander McAvery barely looked up from his coffee as he nodded, “whatever you say, Princess.” Turning the page, he folded his paper over then, and lifted the cup of steaming brew to his lips as if he’d not heard a word she’d said.

“He’s really nice,” she went on, pushing herself up on her toes as she bit her lip, hoping in vain that he’d at least glance her way for a moment. “And I think I really like him, and like…do you-“ she blinked though, as her mother suddenly walked into the kitchen and slammed her coffee mug down on the counter.

“Would it kill you to not fuck everything that walks through the doors of this house?” She demanded of Alexander before looking up at Ginger and frowning, “what are you wearing? You aren’t planning to leave the house like that, are you?”

Ginger looked down at her shirt with a frown, smoothing her hands over her stomach before chewing on her bottom lip. Was there something wrong with what she was wearing? She’d thought she looked nice, at least before her mother opened her mouth. Not that she had time to say as much. Her father was already speaking by the time she’d opened her mouth.

“No, I don’t ‘fuck’ the dog,” he replied a bit blandly, “or you. Which, trust me, the dog would be an improvement over you.” He stood then, dumping his coffee in the sink before letting the cup drop in with a heavy clunk. Ginger watched as he moved over to her, though, and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Your daughter looks fine, Teagan, just like you…a little tramp with no breast.” Patting her shoulders, then, Alexander moved out of the kitchen with his wife hot on his heels.

Ginger could still hear them arguing in the living room, but she didn’t follow. Instead she looked at her reflection in the window, hands coming up to cup her chest. If she’d had enough sense about her, though, she would have remembered that Sam was going to be using the floo at any moment to arrive.