A/N: I decided to keep this bunch of little stories going because all of the cheating stories (although there are a few that I'm enjoying) are stressing the hell out of me. I need a place to escape back to my happy place, where Christian and Ana are still in love and very happily married. Consider this your place for that deep cleansing breath from all the angst stories.

This is the way I believe the story should play out twenty years from now. They will always be in love.

This is mostly a flash back story. Someone asked for me to write an Ana POV 20 years later. I like that idea. So I'll work on that next.

I do not own the characters. They belong to E.L. James. I'm not a writer. This is just for fun.

This is a rarity, the four of us together having a family dinner. Phoebe and Ted are verbally sparring with each other, as only a brother and sister could. Ted and I are making plans to go fly fishing. Phoebe and Ana are chatting away about boyfriends and shopping.

I don't want to hear about boyfriends. I'm trying very hard to zone that out. But truth be told, I have one ear on my fly fishing conversation and the other on the boyfriend talk. No horny- ass teenaged fucker is going to out my daughter unless he passes my inspection first.

Listening to Phoebe and Ana talk brings me back to when Phoebe was a little girl...

She was looking for assistance in earning her first Girl Scout Merit badge. Neither Ana nor I were ever into any of these organized groups when we were kids, but Phoebe's best friend Jennifer was a Girl Scout, which meant Phoebe had to be a Girl Scout too.

Ana and I were sitting at the island in the kitchen. I was reading the paper, looking over the Sports section. Ana was reading a manuscript. Phoebe came to Ana and asked for help with her cooking badge. I could see Ana was in knee-deep with the work in front of her.

She smiled at Phoebe then turned her gaze to me. Her smile broadened into a devilish grinasshe looked back at Phoebe.

"Phoebe sweetie, Mommy is trying to finish up some work here but I'm sure Daddy would love to help you earn your badge. A long time ago, he helped me prepare a meal. He's an excellent assistant in the kitchen. "

Are you fucking kidding me?

An adorable grin beams on Phoebe's face as she turns toward me. I'm a sucker for that grin... it's just like her mother's. I know I'm doomed. Fuck.

"Daddy, will you help me?" Her pleading grey eyes pierce into mine.

"Wouldn't you rather have Aunt Mia help? She's a chef. I'll call her."

"You Daddy!"

"How about Mrs. Taylor? She's an excellent cook."

"You Daddy...pleeeeaaaasssseee." She pouts, battling her lashes.

Sigh... this kid is no dummy. She sure knows how to work her old man.

"Sure, baby girl. Let's do it." I place my newspaper down on the counter and shoot a wicked scowl over to Ana. "There's a punishment in your future, Mrs. Grey," I whisper menacingly in her ear.

She giggles and whispers "I look forward to it, Sir."

And my little girl and I are off to cook.

. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time to get on with this. "So Miss Grey, what are we cooking today?"

"My leader gave us a recipe for a cake. Here it is."

Phoebe hands a sheet of paper to me. I look at it reluctantly. "A chocolate cake?" I ask.

She nods enthusiastically. "Yes, you like chocolate cake—don't you, Daddy?"

"Yes I do, very much." I notice Ana peeking over her manuscript, smirking. Other than my wife and my kids, chocolate cake is my weakness.

I glance over the list of ingredients. There's only nine. Thank Christ. I can handle nine. Baking is simply chemistry. It's science… the recipe is merely a formula to follow. Easy. I turn on the oven.

"Phoebe, we need eggs, cocoa powder, flour, baking powder, vanilla, salt, butter, and sugar. Can you go into the refrigerator and get two eggs. I'll get the baking powder." I look toward Ana. "Where does one find the baking powder?"

Ana continues her reading while she answers, never looking up. "In the cupboard, to the left of the refrigerator."

"Thank you." I look in the cupboard. There's so much crap in it. Does Gail really need all these ingredients? Found it! I place it on the countertop.

Ana clears her throat, clearly trying to get my attention. I look over to her. She's looking at me then baking powder, back and forth, back and forth. The light bulb finally goes off and I realize... I took out the baking soda. Soda… Powder… Why are their names practically identical? I go back and correct my error, setting the baking powder on the countertop.

Phoebe places the two eggs down on the counter. They roll. One falls to the floor and breaks.

"Shit!"

"Daddy! That's a bad word!" I feel Ana's disapproving gaze upon me. I don't need to look, I've heard enough about my inappropriate language around the kids to know what she's thinking.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Won't happen again. Let's clean this up." We clean up the egg mishap and start again.

After asking Ana a few more times where to find the remaining ingredients, we finally have everything.

"Ana, what do we mix this stuff in?"

She peeks up, looking a little exasperated. "In a mixing bowl. They're in the cupboard by the stove. The hand mixer is there too."

Hand mixer?

Phoebe finds the hand mixer and mixing bowl and we're ready to go.

"Okay, this recipe calls for one-and-a-half cups of flour. Can you measure that out and pour it in the bowl? Here's the measuring cup." I'm pretty fucking impressed with myself. I figured out I would need the measuring cup without Ana's assistance.

Phoebe carefully measures out the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking POWDER and dumps each into the bowl. She stirs it around with a large silver whisk. Once she's done with her task, I take the bowl and grab a rubber spatula to mix it around a little more.

Hmmm... This rubber spatula has possibilities. My carnal thoughts are never far away, especially when my wife is sitting a few feet away.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Grey. For now, anyway.

We add the eggs. Picking out shell gragments, as neither of us has great egg breaking skills. Vanilla (hmm—vanilla) extract, water, and butter go into bowl. Time for the hand mixer. I plug it in. I'm not so sure I like the idea of my daughter using this. It looks dangerous but she insists. I explain to her that after I give it a try, then she can. I need to determine that it's safe to use. As I lower the rotating mixer blades into the bowl, the flour spectacularly explodes, all over Phoebe, the counter, the floor, and me.

"Shit!"

"Daddy, bad words again!" Phoebe rolls her eyes.

"That's a nasty habit young lady," I warn. She stops immediately knowing I don't like that one bit.

Ana lowers her manuscript, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh.

Yet another infraction, Mrs. Grey. I'm keeping count, baby.

"Something amusing to you, Mrs. Grey?" I ask, scowling.

"Not at all. Perhaps you should start mixing at a lower speed."

There are speeds on this thing? It's like a fucking vibrator.

Finally the batter is mixed. I find the cake pan after Ana directed me to it. We pour the batter in the cake pan and put it in the oven.

"Phoebe, how long does this cake need to bake?"

She takes out the paper. "Thirty minutes, Daddy."

"What would you like to do while we wait?"

"I want to stay here and watch my cake bake. Wanna watch it bake with me?"

She's so adorable, how can I resist that sweet face? "Sure, baby girl. Lets sit and we can talk while we watch."

I put the timer on and we take our seats at the island, where Ana is still mulling through her manuscripts.

"Phoebe, do you like your teacher? Does she make you work hard?"

"Oh, I like her enough." She smiles slyly, her wheels are definitely turning. She has the same brain to mouth infliction as her mother. "But who I really like is Joey McCoy"

Who's this little fucker? A boy? My daughter likes a boy? No, no, no, no fucking no.

I raise an eyebrow. "Do you now? Tell me about this Joseph McCoy."

"He's dreamy. All the girls like him. I don't think he likes me, though." She pouts.

Good!

"Well, if that's the case, he is obviously not a very smart young man. You don't want to associate with people like that. You deserve the best."

"Maybe if I kiss him, he'll like me. Amanda Fields kissed him and then he liked her."

Amanda Fields sounds like a little tramp.

Ana peeks over her manuscript, obviously wondering how I'm going to take the news of my very young daughter's romantic intentions.

"Phoebe Grace Grey, if you kiss boys, you will get warts all over your body. You will not kiss any boys. Understand?"

"Will I really get warts?" She looks worried. Shit, has she already kissed a boy?

"Yes," I confirm sternly. I see out of my peripheral vision, Ana slowly shaking her head at me. Phoebe looks mortified. "Is there something you need to tell me Phoebe?"

Her eyes are brimming. I brace myself for the answer. Phoebe also inherited her mother's honesty gene.

"I'm going to get warts!" She looked horrified.

I try to retain my composure but I can feel I'm about to erupt. Ana glances nervously at me. "Who was this boy you kissed, Phoebe?"

"You, Daddy." The tears are about to flow. A great sigh of relief comes from both Ana and me.

"Sweetheart, daddies don't count. They are wart-free. You can kiss me anytime… Just me," I emphasize.

"Oh, good. Did you kiss a lot of girls?" she asks.

"Your mother was my only girlfriend." Not really answering the question, but that should satisfy her. And it is the truth. So that's something.

"Will Mommy always be your girlfriend?"

"Yes, baby girl. And she wasn't my girlfriend until I was twenty-seven. I think that's a good age to begin dating. You should wait until you are twenty-seven too. It worked out fine for me."

Ana coughs in a failed attempt to hide her giggle.

Phoebe shrugs her shoulders. "Uh…okay."

The timer goes off. Thank Fuck. End of this conversation.

Family Dinner time is over. Ted is packing up his stuff getting ready to go out with a few of his old high school buddies while he's in town. Ana and Phoebe are still talking boyfriends. Apparently my daughter did not heed to my dating advice very well.

Go ahead. Defy you father. Just like her mother.