Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to SquareEnix.

Mystic: This little number is credited to the amazing Pan over at the Viva La Reefie forums. Is it crack? Oh, yeah. Is it fun? You bet! To clarify, this DOES NOT tie-in to Ever Fallen In Love. Okay? DOES NOT. It could tie into Royal Proposal though. Oh, and a big thanks and shout-out to the ladies over at VLR.

"GRANDPA!"

Emperor Godo opened his arms just wide enough for two little boys to tackle him in dual bear hugs. "It is good to see you again, my boys!" he exclaimed, his smile wide.

At the ripe old age of fifty, the lord of Wutai was the proud grandfather of three, though the third was still in his daughter's womb. Yuffie entered the throne room moments later, sick from the airship rather than her latest pregnancy. Her stomach was round with the new life that she hoped would be a girl. Well, more like begged and pleaded. As much as Yuffie loved her husband and two sons, there was only so much testosterone she could take. It was dripping down the walls and oozing into her carpets. Sweet Leviathan, did she hate to clean it all up.

"Oh, sure, pops," she teased with an eyeroll. "It's good for you because you spoil them rotten before sending them back home."

"That's my job as a grandparent." Godo walked over and embraced her with a gentle hug. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm knocked up and just left an airship," she deadpanned. "How do you think I feel?"

"Mama threw up again!" her youngest chirped.

"No, she didn't!" argued his older brother. "Mama just dry heaved because her tummy was empty."

An outsider looking in on the royal family might conclude that pregnancy and the White Rose did not get along very well. Her face was pale and eyes tired, heightened by the long trip with a husband and two little boys in tow. Her weak stomach worsened with each baby, mostly through heartburn or nausea upon rising. A small bout of rosacea graced her cheeks; Reeve said it made her glow, to which Yuffie always replied, "shut your damn trap."

Unlike most expectant mothers, Yuffie refused the boring maternity clothes and instead opted for a larger size pair of shorts. The midriff-baring tops of her youth were replaced by Reeve's shirts because they were super-duper comfy and smelled like his cologne.

Godo laughed and ruffled the boys hair. "I do believe there is a treat for you two in the kitchen. Why don't you get your mother something, too, hm?"

They left with a noticeable bounce in their step and smiles attached to their faces. A weekend with grandpa was a weekend of fun in their young minds. He let them stay up well past their bedtime, allowed them sugary snacks that would surely earn him a glare from his daughter if she were to find out, and most importantly, let them see all the ancient weapons of Wutai. Chrys, at age three, had a fascination for the projectiles, while Geoff, age five, preferred the armour that was engraved with Leviathan's image.

The smell of green tea wafted through her nose as a servant handed her a warm cup. Her father sat down beside her and patted her hand. "All Geoff needs is a goatee and he'd be a spitting image of his father," he said with a smile.

Yuffie snorted. "He's already a techno-geek. He keeps drawing robots in preschool."

"Where is my son-in-law, by the way?"

"Getting the boy's things off the airship." She took a comforting sip of the tea. "Are you sure you wanna watch them all weekend? Chrys has pretty good aim."

"I enjoy my grandsons, Yuffie," he laughed. "Besides, I am quite sure you and Reeve would appreciate the 'alone time'."

Her grin turned wicked and she knowingly rubbed her stomach. "'Alone time' is what caused spawn number three."

"Unless your children were conceived in the open air underneath the magnolias, I'm hardly impressed."

"Geoff was spawned on top of Reeve's desk and Chrys happened because of a very fun moment against the wall at Seventh Heaven." A warning glare was directed toward her father. "Don't tell Tifa that."

Very few fathers could openly discuss sex with their daughters, no matter how old they became or how many children they bore. It was too damn awkward most of the time. Godo and Yuffie were the rare exception. "How fares the Widow Strife?" Godo asked, his voice suddenly soft.

"Eesh, formal much, dad?" She shrugged and took another sip. "Tifa's doing okay. Business has been slow in the bar though."

"And the boy?"

"Denzel?" Yuffie sighed. "He's gotten into a few fights at school. But he won!"

Cloud's death occured well over a year ago, but the way he died was a near insult to the way he lived. The man fought Sephiroth, fought the remanents, assisted WRO, but lost a vicious war against one wreck on Fenrir. Blood covered the roadway and gushed too quickly for any amount of potions or phoenix downs to take effect. The paramedics said his death was instantaneous, but that did nothing to comfort Tifa, who cried for weeks after the funeral.

It was then that Denzel's fights in school began.

"I wish to remarry, Yuffie." Godo's statement was blunt and left no room for arguments.

"Okay," she shrugged. "You've been a widower for too long anyways. I'm surprised you're not climbing up the walls."

"I wish to wed Tifa."

Green tea splattered on the floor, followed by an expensive mug. Shards of the glass slid across the hardwood, finally stopping at the emperor and princess' feet. Normally, Yuffie would laugh at a such a serious statement, to see if it was true or false. Her father's eyes, though; they were soft with an untapped emotion she hadn't seen since her mother was still alive. It was the desire to nurture and protect, to care and to love.

Yuffie ignored the loss of her drink and stood in defiance; something she hadn't done since her marriage to Reeve years earlier. "Daddy," she warned, "you can't be serious."

"I am."

Her eyes narrowed. Godo was entirely too calm about this. "You're too old for her!"

"Your husband is nineteen years your senior," he pointed out. He then motioned to one of the servants, who began to clean the shattered mug. "That argument is pointless, daughter."

"She's a foreigner!"

"So is your husband."

"Tifa's my best friend!"

"Then you should support her."

Yuffie near exploded in anger. Only near because she was four months pregnant and too much anger wasn't good for the baby. So instead of yelling at her elderly father to stay far, far away from her hot single mom of a friend, she chose to count to ten and imagine her father exploding into tiny little pieces and the pieces being pissed on by wild dogs. Ah, the anger dissipated. Almost.

"Dad," she began, her voice low and unwavering, "Reeve and I have done everything we could to support Tifa and Denzel. We've helped with the bar, her bills, Denzel's education. She's struggling, Pops, and you want to pressure her into a sham marriage?!"

Godo stood now, his stature and strength forever embedded his in his eyes and disposition. "You would dare question me, daughter?"

"I've done it before, and I'm doing it again!"

"I'm offering the Widow Strife freedom," he explained. "Does not Leviathan teach us to care for those in need?"

"Care does not mean marriage."

He huffed, a sure sign of his growing frustration. "I have already contacted her and await her reply."

"Why, Tifa?" Yuffie asked, her arms crossed and her tongue ready to argue. "Of all the widows available here in Wutai, why my friend?"

"Of all the available diplomats or warriors here, why did I give you to Commissioner Tuesti? And do not say that it was for politics, daughter. We both know that you tend to defy anything that I say or do, no matter what it is. I could admit that I fathered you out of wedlock and you'd still demand the throne despite that you'd be a bastard child."

"Bastard or not, I can run Wutai better than you, you pervert!"

His point proved true. "Wanting to wed does not make me ... one of those. I am not a criminal."

"Why my friend?" she asked again. "Is it just for the glory of being with one of the heroes of Gaia? Is it the prestige? Be honest, pops. I'm so not going to buy any bullshit about how you just want to help a poor, young widow when you probably just want a pretty thing on your arm!"

Reeve walked inside to an intense stare-off between father and daughter. He never liked being in the middle of arguments; he preferred to settle them with a quick bark of authority or silent raise of the no-nonsense eyebrow. That eyebrow worked wonders on his two sons and the occasional Turk who wanted to slack off.

"Reeve!" Yuffie spoke first, her voice shrill and loud. "Do you know what my father is planning?"

He saw the servant clean up a shattered tea cup and a sinking sensation settled in his gut. "Your father told you about Tifa, I take it?"

"You knew?!"

"He mentioned it briefly a few days ago."

"Gah!" She threw her hands in the air. "Why was I not told about this?"

Godo answered with a curt, "Because this is how you would react."

"Ya think?" She dropped her head in her hands and grunted. "Reeve, you can't agree with this. It's wrong on so many levels."

"It's their decision, Yuffie." His stance was easy and calm, always reflective of his worldwide rank, though usually irritating to his young wife. "Can't you at least try to understand?"

She didn't want to understand. "Tell me why."

Godo's face softened, not in defeat, but from a sharp tug of emotion that jumpstarted his heart. It fluttered quickly, running to an oft neglected area of his mind, and forced him to choose careful words. "I admire Tifa's strength as a woman." His son-in-law knew what he felt, but judging from the look of his daughter, she was far from accepting. "Do not attempt to sway her either way, Yuffie. Let her decide."

"Daddy!"

Bare feet thudded across the floor, skidding to a stop in front of tall, khaki-covered legs. Reeve looked down, smiling. "Yes?"

"Is it true that Auntie Tifa might marry grandpa?" Geoff bounced up and down on his heels.

"The boys know?!" Yuffie smacked Reeve on his bicep, typical of an angry wife. "What is wrong with you?"

"Mama." Chrys crossed his arms and said, quite serious, "You can't hit daddy."

"Yeah," agreed Geoff. "If he hits you back, the police will show up. Like that family down the road --"

Reeve grabbed his son in a hug, silencing the outburst and any other confession of crime that he worked to eradicate from Edge. "You behave for your grandfather." He felt Geoff nod into his shirt. "No gizmos."

"Can I build a scale model of Wutai with my blocks?"

Reeve laughed. "As long as you pick them up. Chrys, no fighting."

"Yes, sir," the boy said, hiding a pout.

The pout was inherited from his mother, who happened to be doing the same thing. She despised being left in the dark over serious matters and wanted to be involved as much as she could, giving an opinion that mattered or otherwise. "What do you mean her strength? She can kick your ... behind from here to the moon. That's hardly the humble little wife you always wanted." Her tirade was halted by a small tug on her shorts. Chrys handed her a small packet of crackers. He remembered when Godo advised him to get something for her.

"It's not her physical prowess that impresses me." He turned away to face the armour adorning the walls. "I await her favourable reply." Godo repeated his words from before, but now they sounded quieter -- almost pleading.

It wasn't often that Yuffie admitted defeat -- even a temporary one -- but she resigned to one for now. She shot a glare to her father before leaning down to give gentle hugs. Her boys kissed her cheeks before skipping away outside. Reeve placed a hand on her shoulder, his silent signal to leave.

"You are so getting nagged tonight, Reeve."

Yuffie left, not finished with the battle, and all prepared to talk sense into Tifa.

Mystic: Crack pairing at it's finest, amirite? Anyway, concrit is fine, but be gentle,'kay? I'm not thrilled with the ending to this chapter, so don't bother pointing that out. We'll learn more in the next chapter.