A/N: I seem to be on a roll. Apparently, The Proposal has given me more ideas than I originally thought. Here's a short that really goes to father and son finally talking and listening to each other and finding middle ground. Let me know what you think. I hope you like it.

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Just weeks after the 'real proposal' he had made in the offices of Ruick and Hunt Publishing, Andrew and Margaret were back in Alaska visiting for a long weekend to celebrate Andrew and Margaret's engagement, Andrew's much deserved promotion to editor, and Margaret being granted her visa. When Joe, Grace and Annie had left New York, Margaret and Andrew had promised to be back in Sitka in a few weeks time for a visit.

Margaret made her way to the kitchen having left Andrew in bed asleep. She stopped at the threshold as Joe was looking out the window with a cup of what smelled like coffee. Margaret quickly turned around, but was stopped in her tracks.

"Margaret?"

"Hi Joe. I was just coming down for a drink, but didn't want to disturb you."

"Come on in. You're not disturbing me," he chuckled and continued, "In fact, I could use the distraction."

"Is something wrong?" she asked moving to the refrigerator and pulling out the bottle of orange juice and moving to the cabinet for a glass.

"Not wrong, per se. Just thinking," he said.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Margaret took a seat at the table with her glass of juice.

"You love Andrew?" he asked unexpectedly.

"Yes," she replied immediately. At his questioning glance, she added, "I knew he was extremely talented before we got to Alaska, but I didn't realize how really special he was. Here was a man who did all this work in New York, when he was practically a prince here. Then when I'd been awful to him, he saved me. He protected me, even from myself."

"You did the same for him."

"Yeah, after I'd almost ruined his life." Margaret thought back to when she finally realized just how much Andrew had given up to work for her in New York and how much more he'd be giving up if their plan didn't work. She couldn't have lived with herself.

"If I know anything about my son, it's that he doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. That's why he's in New York. He doesn't want to have anything to do with what goes on here," Joe returned.

"I don't think that's true. I just think Andrew wants to make it on his own, just like you did. He's found something he loves that he's really good at and he's determined to make it work."

"I love Andrew and I want him to be happy," Joe admitted, taking a seat next to Margaret. "It's just I built an empire with his mother and all we ever dreamed of was leaving it to him."

"You can. He'll make sure the business is taken care of, even if he isn't the one to run it."

Joe looked at Margaret speculatively and replied, "I hadn't thought of that."

Margaret smiled softly and said, "Joe, Andrew loves you very much and he wants to make you proud, but you raised him to be his own man. He's just like you in that respect."

"You think so?" Joe asked.

Margaret laughed at the question. She hadn't met two men who were more alike than Joe and Andrew. They were willing to do whatever was necessary to protect the people they cared for and loved. They both had incredible work ethics. They were both obstinate when they had the upper hand or thought they did. "That's why the two of you butt heads so much. You're so much alike."

"Margaret?" A sleepy voice called out into the night.

Both Joe and Margaret looked in the direction from where Andrew had called her name.

"In here," she answered softly.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked turning the corner running a hand through his hair, then he stopped. "Dad?"

"Hi son," Joe answered with a smile, then continued. "Margaret came down for a drink." She held her glass up for him to see, as his father added, "Since I was already down here, she kept me company for a little while."

"Okay," Andrew replied confusion clear in his expression.

Margaret looked between the two men and made a quick decision. Faking a yawn, she got up from the table and placed her glass in the strainer after washing it. She moved to Andrew, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm going back to bed," she said, leaning into his for a kiss. "Why don't you stay down here and talk to your dad for a while?" She turned to Joe momentarily and said, "You can call me Maggie, if you like. My dad used to call me that." To Andrew, she pressed another kiss to his lips and said, "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said watching her walk away. Turning back to his father, he said, "So what were you two talking about?" Andrew pulled open the refrigerator door and retrieved the bottle of apple juice. Taking the glass Margaret had just placed in the strainer, he poured the glass full of the golden juice.

"You," Joe admitted finally.

"Me? What about me?" Andrew asked.

"Margaret . . .," Joe started only to correct himself, "Maggie said that we were a lot alike."

Andrew groaned. "She said that to me, too."

"I know. I didn't see it either, but your mother says the same thing. I think they may be right."

"Dad, what are you talking about?"

"I mean, we are both pretty stubborn and protective of those we love."

Andrew sat for a moment contemplating his father, then admitted, "You're right. We are."

"We also don't like the status quo. We strive to make new things happen for ourselves."

"Are you talking about me and publishing or when you started the business?"

"Both, I think. When your mother and I were young, we decided we'd take a chance on starting something new and seeing where it took us. This is what we got. I knew you wanted to go to New York and try something different. You talked about it all the time when you were in college and I just thought it was a phase. I thought you'd grow out of it. You didn't and if I'd really listened to you, I would have known it." Pausing to take a breath, Joe's eyes met Andrew's. "I want you to be happy and if being in New York makes you happy then I guess I'll have to accept that. We'll work something out about the business here and make sure it's taken care of."

"Dad, I know I'm not the son you bargained for."

"That's not true. I know what you're capable of and I just always wanted the two of us to be able to share the empire that your mother and I built."

"I know, dad. I'm sorry I can't be that for you."

"Don't be. I've just got to accept that what I think is best for you, may not be. When you become a parent, you'll understand what I mean."

"I guess so," Andrew replied with a smile. "Who knows, if Margaret and I have children, maybe one of them will want to move here and take over later."

"Wouldn't that be something," Joe returned and the two chuckled.

"It would indeed, and I wouldn't be surprised at all." Andrew finished his juice and turned to his dad. "I think I'm going back to bed for an hour or so." Andrew mimicked Margaret's movement from earlier and placed the washed glass in the strainer. "You should try to get some sleep, too. You've got an empire to run."

"Actually, I think I'm taking the day off to spend with my family tomorrow . . . or later today since it's four in the morning."

"That will be nice. Maybe we can throw something on the grill and do a little putting."

"I'd like that."

"I'll see you later," Andrew said walking out of the room.

"Andrew?" Joe called.

Andrew stopped turning back to his dad curiously. "Yeah, dad?"

"I know I haven't told you this lately, but I'm proud you're my son."

Joe and Andrew's gazes held for a long moment.

"Thanks, Dad." Andrew turned and made his way back to the bedroom he and Margaret were sharing.

The room was dark, but Andrew could see Margaret's outline under the covers and thought about all the miracles that had happened over the past few weeks. He had fallen in love with the boss he loathed, they were engaged 'for real', he'd been promoted, and his father was proud of him. The woman in the bed had somehow helped to make all that possible. Who would've thought?

Chuckling softly, he got into the bed and gathered Margaret to his side. Kissing her, he settled back to get a couple of hours of sleep before the house woke up.

"Andrew?" Margaret started softly.

"Hmm . . ."

"Did you and your dad have a good talk?" There was concern apparent in her tone.

"We did," he answered, pausing before adding, "Thank you for whatever you said to him."

"I didn't really say anything that he didn't already know," she replied, stroking his chest, then continued, "even if he didn't realize it."

"Well, thanks anyway. I think we have a better understanding of each other now."

"Well, all it took was understanding yourselves. You two are just alike."

"Yeah, so you've said," Andrew replied with a roll of his eyes.

"You just have to admit that I'm right."

"According to you, you're always right." He injected just enough sarcasm to get a response.

"That's because I am always right. If you would just . . ." Her words were suddenly cut off when Andrew took her lips with his. When he pulled away, she was dazed.

"That's better."

"What is?" she asked confused.

"You not talking," he said and kissed her again. When he pulled back, he traced the line of her neck with his lips.

"Mmm," she groaned at the sensation.

Andrew decided sleep might not be the best thing they could do with the couple of hours they had before everyone woke up. When he whispered his intentions to Margaret, she wholeheartedly agreed pressing a kiss above his heart.

"I'm so glad we understand each other," he muttered.