"Alright, Kopa, stay away from the Graveyard."

"I will, Dad."

"And the Outlands."

"I will."

"And don't go anywhere near the river."

"I won't."

"And stay within sight of Pride Rock at all times."

"Okay."

"And make sure you—"

"Dad! Okay!" the young prince whined, yanking hard to free his tail from where it was trapped beneath Simba's massive paw. "I'll be good, I promise! Can you please let me go now? Please?"

Simba grinned despite himself, waiting until his son was in the throes of a particularly hard pull before releasing his hold. His laughter was full and strong as he watched the little cub roll backwards into the grass, and when a blur of golden fur jumped back out and attacked him, he was not surprised.

"Why are you always so mean to me?" Kopa grumbled. He strained against his father's massive weight in an attempt to push Simba down. But the king simply swiped a paw over the young cub's frame, pulled him into his chest and locked his arm around his head. He began licking Kopa's face and the small patch of brown-red hair that crowned it.

Kisses. The spoils of his victory.

"Dad! Dad, gross!" the prince protested, pushing hard against Simba for freedom. "One day…I'm gonna be...as big as you…and then…you won't be able to…do this…DAD!"

Laughing perhaps more than he had done in a good few weeks, the Lion King of the Pride Lands finally, fully released his son. Kopa was quick to embrace his liberty and scampered several feet away, frantically trying to restore his mane to its former glory.

Simba smiled as he observed the child's struggle, seeing himself for a moment reflected in Kopa's features and movements. "Okay, son?"

The prince scowled, "No."

"Kopa…"

"You messed up my mane."

Simba forced down another laugh, "Come here, buddy."

"Nuh-uh."

"Come on. I'll leave you and your mane alone."

Kopa looked skeptical, "Promise?"

"I promise."

Biting hard on the inside of his cheek, and encouraging himself to maintain a convincing pout, the young cub made his way back through the grass and sat down in front of his father. The king lowered himself onto his belly and met his son's eyes.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

Kopa's solemn pout cracked a little at this question. He had been dying for weeks to spend a day with his two honorary uncles, and today was it! Oh, he was so excited, and he couldn't help smiling a bit as he nodded his agreement. He was sure his father had no idea how excited he was. Timon and Pumbaa were always great fun and coming up with adventures and games. The prince was sure that if his mother knew the half of some of the things he got up to with them, the pair would probably be banned from the Pride Lands, honorary uncles or not. But she didn't know. And in truth, that was half the fun.

"I don't know what we're gonna do," Kopa ventured quietly to his father. "They told me it was a surprise."

"And I bet it will be a good one," Simba said with a smile, remembering all of the fun he had had as a cub with the meerkat and warthog. He paused and raised an eyebrow, "But I do want you to remember the rules, young cub."

The prince groaned, his head falling down into his chest, "Da-ad…"

"Kopa, I just need you to be careful, alright?" the king explained, tilting his head to meet the cub's green eyes. "This is the first time you're going with them without a lion to protect you, and the land is still not as safe as it was when I was your age…And Timon and Pumbaa can be juvenile themselves at the best of times…Just promise me, that whatever they want to do, you'll follow the rules. Can you do that?"

"If I do will you stop talking about the rules?"

Simba cocked a grin, "Maybe. But you're not going anywhere until you promise me."

Kopa rolled his eyes, "I promise I'll follow the rules and be careful."

"Good boy."

In the next moment, Timon and Pumbaa could be seen as little specks in the distance, making their way towards the grassy plain beneath Pride Rock where the father and most eager son awaited them.

"Dad, there they are! Come on!" the prince urged, rushing from his father's side to join his favorite uncles some yards ahead.

Smiling softly to himself, Simba stood and followed at a more leisurely pace after his son.

This was a good idea.

Kopa would follow the rules to the best of his ability as promised, enjoy the day with his uncles, and Simba could enjoy a well-earned day of peace with his beloved mate. Turning his head slightly to survey the western landscape, the king imagined the surprise and joy that would mark Nala's face when he met her told her the news. An entire day. All. To. Themselves.

Since having taken the throne a little under four months ago, Simba could not recall a single one of those such days—or an hour, or a moment all to himself for that matter. Since Scar was defeated and the hyenas banished, his days were full of patrolling, of surveying the land and listening to Zazu's dreadful reports, of chasing lingering hyenas. Nala's days were equally full. And Kopa…their dear son…He was a full time job by himself.

But today would be their day.

This was a great idea.

"What's that for?" Kopa asked as he father drew near enough to hear.

Curious, Simba turned away from the west and focused in on his present surroundings. Timon was smiling between the king and the prince. Kopa had sat down and cocked his head at Pumbaa who bore several yards of vine and a rather large, hollow log in his tusks.

Simba rose an eyebrow, "Yeah…What is that for, guys?"

Timon grinned, "Nice to see ya, buddy. This place is really comin' along, ain't it, Pumbaa? I was just saying how green the trees…"

"Timon."

"How green the trees are getting. And the herds are really coming back fast, huh?"

"Timon, what is that stuff Pumbaa is carrying?"

"Oh, that stuff?" the meerkat shrugged, leaning with forced indifference against Pumbaa's leg. "That's nothin'. Just some vines and some wood…"

Simba felt himself growing faintly frustrated, "What is it for, Timon?"

"I told you; it's nothin'. Now about those herds…"

"Timon!"

"Come on, Dad," Kopa whined, his pout back and in full force. "The fun hasn't even started yet, and you're ruining it. I told you I'd be good."

But the king ignored his son, zeroing in on the two babysitters, "Alright, guys. Here's the deal: No swinging from vines. No climbing 20 foot tall trees. No rolling my son down hills in logs. No river. No danger. Got it?"

Pumbaa nodded, immediately dropping the items he carried and swiftly smashing them to tiny pieces beneath his feet. He gave a mock salute, "Yes, sire!"

Both Timon and Kopa laughed, but Simba remained quite sober.

"I mean it, guys. This is my son."

Timon cocked his head to the side as he surveyed the king, "And who was it that coached you through your childhood, teenhood, and young adulthood years, hm?"

"He's got a point," the warthog noted.

Simba sighed, "Kopa is not me, and this is not the oasis."

"He's got a point, Timon."

"Listen, I'm counting on you to keep him safe..."

"Simba, relax," Timon said, fondly petting the young cub at his side. "He'll be fine. It'll be just like old times."

"Timon!"

"What Timon meant to say was that we'll keep the little guy safe and out of danger," Pumbaa appeased, stepping in front of his companion with a wide smile. "You can count on us!"

The king looked over Pumbaa at Timon and cocked an eyebrow.

The meerkat waved his hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, that's what I meant. Now go find your wife before she gets back from her hunt and the surprise is ruined."

Taking a deep breath, Simba looked down upon his son, who had been quite amused by the majority of the display. It was like that to some degree every time he was left in the care of his esteemed uncles, worse when his mother was involved, but he knew he was never in any danger of losing his time with Timon and Pumbaa. Despite whatever fuss they made, Nala and Simba both trusted the odd couple explicitly…granted, they didn't know half of what went on when the pair were left in charge of Kopa…but to the young cub, their ignorance was his bliss.

"Alright, buddy," the king said, leaning down to fondly nuzzle his son. "You remember your promise to me?"

Eager for his father to finally leave, Kopa forced himself to be solemn, "Yes, Dad."

"Good. Don't forget it, okay? Your mother and I'll be back this afternoon."

He nodded, and Simba straightened, allowing himself to grin upon his two, dearest friends. "Thanks, guys. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your doing this. I know Nala will too."

Timon shrugged gruffly, "Don't mention it."

"Enjoy yourself!" Pumbaa said.

And with one last glance over his shoulder, Simba turned and began after his mate, fighting the doubt that was steadily creeping into his mind. If Nala saw he was unsure, they would be together only half an hour and most of that time would be spent racing back towards Pride Rock. No, this was a good idea.

A great idea.

Yes. GREAT.

It had to be.

For the sake of his own sanity if nothing else.