Hi everyone! I got another Lab Rats one-shot here for ya. So, I know that there are a LOT of fics focusing on Chase and Douglas (even written a few myself), but I was wondering what ways Douglas could connect with Adam and/or Bree. Still haven't figured out Adam, but I was thinking about things Douglas and Bree might have in common and . . . voilà! There'll be lots of father-daughter bonding fluff in this.

This story is rated T for – believe it or not – blood. Just a tad, and nothing too extreme or disturbing (hopefully). But I wanted to play it safe.

This takes place after "Which Father Knows Best," but before "You Posted What?!" So Leo doesn't have bionics or anything.

Before we begin, I'd like to give a quick shout-out to my wonderful friend Tie Dye Pencils. She a fantastic person, and she helped me a lot with this story. So yay! Also, shout-out to RazaraTheFirst, my fellow Douglas-lover. ;)

Let the story begin! I don't own Lab Rats or Food Network. Enjoy!

* * * You Got It From Me * * *

Douglas Davenport sat at his brother's desk, studying the display before him. As much as he hated to admit it, Donald had done a spectacular job with this new lab. The technology was new and updated, the layout was simplistic and modern, and the tunnels in the back were so darn classy! Still, Douglas probably would have done a better job had he been in charge of making a lab.

Instead Douglas was left to simply admire – albeit begrudgingly – Donald's work. He tapped away on the computer in front of him, searching the news for any recent stories. Douglas wanted to make sure Krane wasn't making a scene. He didn't even know where that crazed lunatic had gone. Krane hadn't shown his face since he had geo-leaped out of the lab several weeks ago.

Just then several alarms began to blare throughout the lab. Douglas jumped out of his seat and glanced around frantically. Adam, Bree, Chase, Donald, and Leo all came barreling into the room.

"I didn't do anything!" Douglas insisted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I know you didn't do anything," Donald said condescendingly. "We just got an urgent mission alert."

Adam, Bree, and Chase hurried into their capsules and changed into their mission suits. Donald and Leo ran over to one of the computers on the other side of the room.

"What's the mission, Mr. Davenport?" Chase asked as he and his siblings exited their capsules.

"There's a huge forest fire in northern California and you three need to help contain it," Donald instructed. "You've got Bree to help you this time, so hopefully it shouldn't be too hard. Bree has the coordinates, and I'll guide you guys from here. Go get your gear and head out. Good luck."

"Man, I've always wanted to be a firefighter!" Adam exclaimed as he ran out of the lab with his younger siblings. Douglas saw Chase and Bree shake their heads, but they didn't verbally respond.

After several minutes of sitting back and watching Donald and Leo type frantically on the computers, Douglas decided to try and get involved. "Um, do you guys need help?" he asked, walking closer.

"No!" Donald snapped, leaving Douglas taken aback.

"What I think he means," Leo interjected, "is that we're fine on our own, thanks."

"Okay, well, I just thought–" Douglas tried to say, but he was cut off by his brother.

"Douglas, please be quiet! I'm trying to concentrate here!"

"Okay, geez, I'll back off! Man, all I was trying to do was–"

"I don't need your help! I can't have any distractions right now. Leo is enough to deal with, and I only tolerate him because Tasha makes me."

"Hey!" Leo shouted indignantly.

Donald sighed. "Look, not right now, Dougie," he said. Douglas winced at the use of his childhood nickname. "Why don't you go do something else, okay? Leo and I got this."

"Alright, alright," Douglas said, throwing his hands into the air. "I can tell I'm not wanted here."

Douglas walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. As it slowly came down the shaft, Douglas turned to look back at Donald and Leo. There were still working, now talking to Adam, Bree, and Chase through headsets. They were completely unaware of Douglas's departure.

"I'm going!" Douglas said as the elevator opened. "You know, I'll just . . . leave you two alone. Clearly there's no need for Douglas here! So I'll just . . . oh forget it."

Douglas resigned himself to the fact that Donald and Leo weren't listening to him at all. He scowled and leaned against the wall of the elevator as it slowly returned him to the upstairs floors.

Once the elevator doors opened on the first floor, Douglas stalked out. He paused for a moment, trying to decide where to go. Ultimately he chose to head back to his room. It wasn't like there was anything else to do, anyway.

As Douglas walked down the hallway, he suddenly paused to look at the pictures on the walls. They were of the Davenport family – his family. Some of the pictures were of Tasha and Leo several years ago. A couple were of Adam, Bree, and Chase when they were young. Most looked like they had been taken in the past two years.

There was one picture that had Donald and Tasha standing beside each other with Tasha in a wedding dress. Another picture showed Chase and Leo crouching next to one another, a robot sitting in front of them. Tasha and Bree were sitting on the couch in another photo. Bree looked quite uncomfortable while Tasha seemed ecstatic. In yet another photo Adam was proudly displaying a clay sculpture of a cat, probably something he made in art class at school.

As Douglas studied the pictures, he realized just how much of his kids' lives he had missed. He hadn't been there for them, ever. They didn't even know he existed until several months ago. Douglas had utterly failed as a father. Whoa, wait, failed? 'Failed' was not in Douglas Davenport's vocabulary. Yet Douglas was at a loss for another word to use.

Now Douglas had a chance to redeem himself, but his family hardly even wanted him. And who could blame them? Douglas had caused them quite a bit of pain and suffering. All was forgiven, but it wasn't easy to accept a former enemy into the family. Saying 'sorry' and just moving on was harder than it looked. No one was quite ready to accept Douglas. Like it or not, he was still an outsider.

Douglas sighed and walked to his room. There was no point in dwelling on those thoughts. The past was done and over with. All Douglas could do now was hope that someday Adam, Bree, and Chase would be able to accept him.

Douglas lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. He was bored. For whatever reason, his body had decided that it would not go back to sleep. Douglas glanced over at the clock. The flashing red lights seemed to mock him. 6:06. The thirty-nine year old groaned and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

After a couple more minutes, Douglas finally gave up. He was not getting any more sleep tonight. Why can't a man sleep in on a Saturday? he thought bitterly.

What was there to do now? Television, Douglas decided. I'll just head downstairs and watch TV until everyone else wakes up.

Douglas hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of the loose brown t-shirt and black sweatpants he had slept in. He shuffled down the hall, making sure to be quiet so he wouldn't wake anyone else up. As he walked down the stairs, Douglas was surprised to see the television in the living room already on. Over the edge of the couch, he could see the top of a brunette's head.

"Bree?" Douglas asked sleepily.

Bree jumped and spun around, her eyes wide. As she caught sight of Douglas, her features relaxed and she flashed a small grin. "Oh, hi Douglas," she said. "Sorry, I'm just not quite used to seeing you around the house yet."

"Yeah, same here," Douglas grunted as he moved around the couch. "What are you watching?"

"Some documentary about elephants," Bree said with a yawn. "I dunno, it was on when I turned on the TV. It's kept me just entertained enough not to change the channel yet." Bree looked up at her father and moved over a bit. She patted the spot beside her. "Here, sit."

Douglas obliged, sitting down beside his daughter. Bree wrapped the blankets closer around herself. She was still in her black Davenport Industries pajamas, and her hair was done up in a messy ponytail.

"So, what are you doing up so early?" Bree asked suddenly.

"Couldn't go back to sleep," Douglas answered stiffly. "You?"

"Same," Bree said with a shrug. "I'm a pretty early riser."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Douglas joked, clapping his daughter on the knee.

Bree let out a breathy laugh. "Oh, so I have you to blame for that? Just like a lot of other stuff in my life."

"Hey!" Douglas protested with a frown.

"I'm just teasing you," Bree assured him. She turned her head away from Douglas and muttered the next sentence, but he still heard it. "Even if there is some truth to it."

"Don't forget that I saved your life," Douglas reminded her.

"Yeah, you and Mr. Davenport," Bree pointed out.

"Whatever."

Bree laughed, and Douglas couldn't help but smile. Bree had a beautiful laugh.

"So," Douglas said slowly, "we just gonna watch TV until everyone else comes down?"

"Sometimes I make breakfast when I get up early," Bree said. "I was thinking about making scrambled eggs."

"Just scrambled eggs?" Douglas scoffed.

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Come on," Douglas said, getting off the couch and motioning for Bree to follow him. Bree slowly pushed off the blankets and stood up. "Come on!"

"Okay, why?" Bree asked as they headed over to their kitchen.

"Your old man is going to show you how to make a real breakfast. What kind of food does Donnie keep around here?"

"I don't know, a lot?" Bree replied. "We've got three teenage boys living in this household. A boatload of food is kinda necessary."

"True," Douglas muttered as he rummaged through the cabinets. His eyes scanned the various assortment of possible ingredients and his brain was swimming with a plethora of ideas.

Next Douglas moved on to the fridge, looking for anything and everything that would make a good breakfast. He saw plenty of food that would fit the bill. He turned back around to face Bree with a wide grin on his face.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Douglas said. "Scrambled eggs work fine, but we need more. Pancakes, bacon, and some fruit would go great."

Bree's face lit up as she understood what was going on. "Great!" she exclaimed. "And we can do this . . . together?"

Douglas froze. He slowly smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Let's do it together."

Bree and Douglas quickly got to work pulling out all the items they would need – being sure to keep quiet so they wouldn't wake up the family members above and below them. Bree showed Douglas where all the pans were and they began setting up everything they needed.

Douglas started on the bacon and Bree began the pancakes. They were a blur in the kitchen, moving around each other and preparing their items like iron chefs. When he wasn't focusing on his own food, Douglas admired the way Bree moved so skillfully in the kitchen. She definitely had the prowess of a good cook.

As the bacon and pancakes neared the end of their preparation, Bree moved on to the scrambled eggs. Douglas helped her a bit, though she seemed a little snappish when he attempted to tell her what to do. Nevertheless, Douglas smiled. His daughter had fire, he would give her that.

Once the eggs were done and had been placed into a bowl, Douglas instructed Bree to begin slicing the fruit. He handed her a couple of bananas and went over to the sink to wash the strawberries. They worked in silence for a few moments. The steady stream of the faucet and the knife slamming into a cutting board were the only noises.

Then a few new sounds entered the picture. It began with a shriek from Bree, followed quickly by a knife clattering to the counter. Douglas bit his lip as Bree began to hiss in pain. He turned to see Bree clutching her left forefinger. Despite her best efforts, Douglas could still see the blood seeping between her fingers.

"Didn't Donald ever teach you kids proper kitchen safety?" Douglas asked. "Come on, let me see it."

"Well, he did," Bree said as she obediently uncurled her finger. "But he also kept us locked in a basement for fifteen years with no kitchen at all, so . . ."

Douglas carefully took Bree's hand in his and looked it over. The red line stretched across her finger and the blood was dripping down onto her palm. It didn't look quite deep enough to need stitches, but Douglas could still tell that it was going to hurt for a while.

"Come on, let's wash it off," Douglas said, guiding Bree over to the sink. He put her finger under the water and walked to the drawers. "Where does this family keep their band aids?"

"The drawer just to your right," Bree said, her voice strained. "There's Neosporin in there, too."

"Perfect," Douglas muttered as he dug through the drawer. He grabbed one of the band aids and the tube of Neosporin before hurrying back over to Bree at the sink.

They turned off the water and Bree dabbed her finger dry with a paper towel. She remained still as Douglas helped put on the Neosporin, but he did hear her whimper just a little. Bree put on the band aid, then looked at it closely and frowned.

"Are those fire trucks?" she asked.

"That's all I saw!" Douglas protested.

"No, it's fine," Bree sighed. "I'm just trying to figure out if these are Adam's or Leo's. It could go either way, really."

Douglas chuckled. Then he asked gently, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Bree assured him. "It's just a little cut. Nothing to worry about."

"You're a trooper, that's for sure."

"Mr. Davenport always said I was tough."

"Good. Well then, Trooper, are you ready to plate all this food?"

"Aye aye, Captain!" Bree responded with a mock salute.

Douglas and Bree pulled out seven plates and began to pile on the food. Bree explained how Adam liked a lot of food (thus how he ended up with eight pancakes and six strips of bacon), Chase didn't like his food touching any of the rest of it, and Leo liked everything to be drenched in syrup.

Once they were done setting up the plates, the father and daughter stepped back to admire their work. Their dishes looked worthy of any Food Network challenge.

"You did a great job, kid," Douglas said, elbowing his daughter.

"Thanks," Bree said. "Now I know where I get my cooking skills from."

Douglas grinned smugly. "I always was a wonderful chef."

The two of them chuckled. Douglas glanced over at the clock on the stove. 7:02. "Wait a second," the man said, "what's going to happen now? The food is going to get cold if no one's awake to eat it!"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Bree chuckled. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ."

"Do I smell food?" Adam hollered as he charged into the kitchen. Bree motioned to her older brother as if to say, 'See?'

Chase came stumbling in behind Adam, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Adam caught sight of the plates filled with steaming food and let out a child-like gasp loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood.

There was a crash from above them and lots of pounding. Donald came down the stairs, wearing his silk leopard-print pajamas.

"Well, look what the crazy cat lady dragged in," Douglas taunted as he and Bree brought their dishes to the table.

Donald's shoulders dropped and he rolled his eyes. "Haha," he said dryly. "What's wrong? Why did Adam gasp?"

"Look at all this food," Adam muttered as he stared transfixed at the table. "I'm in breakfast heaven!"

Tasha and Leo came down the stairs, both of them stretching sleepily. "What's the big deal with waking me up so early on a Saturday?" Leo complained. Then he saw the food and his eyes grew so wide that they looked like they would pop out of his head.

"Douglas and I made it," Bree said. Douglas detected the hint of pride in his daughter's voice.

"Wow, this looks great!" Chase said.

"Thank you, Douglas and Bree!" Tasha agreed.

Everyone sat down and began to devour their food. The eggs were nice and fluffy, the bacon was crunchy, and the pancakes were cooked to perfection. Everything tasted incredible.

"What do you think?" Douglas asked as everyone continued to eat. "Is it five-star hotel worthy or what?"

"This is incredible," Chase agreed.

"Just like when we were kids," Donald added, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "But this better not become a regular habit; you'll cook us out of house and home!"

Douglas just smiled and scooped another forkful of eggs into his mouth. He caught Bree's eye from across the table and winked. Bree grinned. Douglas felt immensely happy at that moment. He was finally part of the family – his family.

So? Did you like it? I personally had fun with it. I thought that maybe Douglas and Bree could bond over cooking. I know she's never really shown proficiency for cooking on the show, but hey, it's possible, right? And we all know what a wonderful cook Douglas is.

But, um, for the record, I can't cook. At all. So hopefully it still turned out okay! I thank the internet for helping me learn about different kinds of food. I'm more like Adam; I just wolf down whatever is put in front of me without worrying about how it's made. XD

Okay, I just have to ask this: how many of you have a panic attack if the food on your plate is touching other food? Or is it just me? I could see Chase being that way, couldn't you?

(Also, I know that in Taken Douglas says he's forty, but Donald is thirty-nine in Memory Wipe [which adds up with earlier in the show, Bionic Birthday Fail, when Donald said he was thirty-eight]. So it wouldn't make any sense for Douglas to be forty by Taken. It doesn't add up. Have any of you ever realized how bad the Lab Rats writers are with ages?)

I hope you guys enjoyed this little one-shot! There were a lot of lines of dialogue in here that I really liked, so which one was your favorite? Any "quotable moments," do you think? So, review/favorite if you liked it, please! That would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! Bye!