"Mama, you forgot the story!" the high-pitched voice of her son, Jack, reaches Levy as she's about to turn out the light in the kids' bedroom.

"Yes, Mama! We need the story if we're going to get to sleep tonight," the voice of her seven-year old daughter calls out.

From the crib came the sound of the twins clapping and chanting, "Story! Story!"

Levy sighs and frowns as she turns around, but the children know it's just for show. "Are you sure you need another bedtime story?" she asks, the perfect picture of exhaustion. "You've already got to choose a story each. You know the rules."

"Story!" demands one twin only to have his sister repeat, "Story!"

Levy smiled as she went back to the crib to pick them up. She sat in the rocking chair while the two older children snuggle a little deeper under their blankets. All eyes are on their mother, however, and they wait for her to begin.

"Once upon a time, long before any of you were born, there was a little girl."

"That's you!" came from the bed on the right.

"Yes that was me," she agreed and then continued, "and she went to school where there was a big, tough, scary looking guy in the year older than her."

"Daddy!" was the excited proclamation from the bed on the left.

"Yes, but he wasn't your daddy at the time," Levy said smiling. "In fact, we weren't even acquainted when this story starts." Giggles greeted this statement. "We were attending a performing arts high school. I got in because I played oboe in the orchestra. Daddy was there because he could…"

"Sing!" the guess from the right.

"Dance?" the less assured guess from the left.

Levy laughed. "He could draw, my darlings. He was a fantastic artist even then. He's only gotten better since that time." She paused remembering.

"Well this school put on many plays, dance shows, and concerts. And students were often required to participate for different classes that they might be in. The first time I met your father, he was helping to take down a set, that's part of a stage when there's going to be a show, but while others were using hammers or pry bars to take things apart your father was ripping pieces apart using just…"

"His hands!" rang out together from both beds. Even the twins raised up their hands to show they knew the right part for this moment of the story.

"Yes, his hands," she smiled at all her children. "The next time I met your father, we were players for part of a pre-show before one of the plays. It was a Shakespeare play, so we were part of a Ren Faire to get the play goers into the right mood. I was part of a quartet that played music from that time and your Daddy was one of the people putting on a fighting show with staffs. He looked very fierce and frightening when he was doing the fighting. We were also part of the groundlings that sat at the very front of the stage. Your Daddy had to help catch one of the actors that was thrown off the stage. We often sat next to each other during the plays and had fun discussing the show and the actors."

"But mama, you told us not to talk during plays today. You said it's rude," was the first actual interruption of the night.

"You're right Emma, and it is usually rude to be talking during a play," she reassured her eldest. "But it was part of what we were supposed to be doing, it was what the director told us to do, so it was okay."

"Oh," there was a thoughtful pause. "Okay, go on."

"Thank you. I will," Levy responded. "Well, after that we started hanging out during lunch a lot. Especially because we had some friends in common. Then one day it happened."

Giggles erupted from the beds again.

"Daddy and I were talking about how we both had to go to some kind of performance and write our opinions about it for different classes. I mentioned that I was thinking about going to a dance review, but that it got out kind of late and I'd hate to have to hang around the school late at night waiting for my dad to pick me up. And your Daddy said…"

"Let's go together!" piped up the voice on the left.

"Yes, he suggested we could go together and that he would hang out with me until my dad came to get me. Well, I knew no one would be messing with me when there was that big, tall, scary man next to me so of course I said yes."

"But mama," came the voice of her oldest son, "Daddy's not scary. Not at all!"

Levy just laughed. "He's not scary to you Jackie because you know him and love him, but people that don't know him that well still get scared of him. Even when we're with him."

"But that's not right!" wailed the boy. "Daddy is the nicest guy in the whole world."

"That's not what you were saying when he sent you to your room earlier," Levy replied.

"But he wasn't being scary; he was just being mean," was the four- year old's logic.

Levy smiled at him. "You're right Jackie, it's not right to guess what someone is like just by how they look, but it does happen."

"Story!" came from her lap.

"I guess we better continue the story. Is that okay with you Jack?"

The little boy smiled and nodded.

"So we met at the theater," Levy began.

"Did you dress up?" asked Emma.

"Yes, I dressed up," Levy admitted a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"Was Daddy dressed up?" asked Jack.

"Yes, Daddy was dressed up very nicely," Levy replied and thought back to the memory of how dashing Gajeel had looked that evening. "But we were going to a performance, and you usually dress up for those kinds of things." Her protestation was met with more giggles.

"Mommy was sweet on Daddy," was whispered from one bed to the other.

"And Daddy was trying to impress Mommy," was the whispered reply.

"Enough, you two, or I can't finish the story."

Immediately silence reigned.

"The show was pretty amazing. Afterward your father and I sat on the side steps where your Grandpa Makarov would be able to drive up and get me."

"Did Daddy put his arm around your shoulders?" Emma asked with an impish smile.

"Yes, you know he did," Levy said with a smile.

"And did you snuggle into Daddy?" she asked again.

"Yes," she answered knowing the next question that she would be asked.

"And did you ki-i-i-i-i-i-iss?" the girl giggled as she asked.

"Yes we did."

"Ewwwww!" Jack made a face.

"It was actually very nice," Levy said to her son.

"And then what happened?" Emma asked eagerly.

"Well, we talked some more, and kissed some more, but mostly just snuggled together."

"Until your Papa Makarov drove up in his work van," came a deep male voice from the door. "And then I dropped my arms to my sides because I finally knew fear." Gajeel walked over to Levy and silently took a twin from her arms.

"What did you have to be afraid of?" Jack asked earnestly confused.

"Your Papa was driving up in a big van full of enough equipment to hide the body and dispose of the evidence, and I was sitting there, a guy he'd never met, with my arm around his little girl." He looked at both his older children. "Do not let that be your fatal mistake. Be sure that you meet the parents first." He put the sleeping baby in the crib and returned to Levy for the other sleeping child.

Both of the older children nodded solemnly.

"Gajeel! You act as if my father was going to harm you in any way. You know he would never have hurt you."

"Lev, I'm still not sure your father wouldn't make me disappear if I hurt you in any way even after all this time."

He kissed his baby on the forehead and placed her next to her brother. He sat on Emma's bed and put a hand in her hair. "And now that I'm a father, I understand the need to protect your daughter." He kissed her as she gave him a hug. He moved over to Jack's bed. "And the need to protect your son," he added as he tucked the blanket under the boy's chin and kissed the top of his head.

He came to the rocking chair and helped Levy to her feet. She gave each child a kiss good night and they walked to the door together.

"Mommy?" the small voice reached her just before going through the door.

Levy turned once more and saw the look of concern on her son's face.

"Yes Jack?"

"Were you ever afraid of Daddy?" he was very worried. "Because he looked scary?" he added.

"No sweetheart," she smiled at him then up at Gajeel. "I never even thought he looked scary, really."

"You didn't?" Emma asked curious.

"Nope," Levy said. "I always thought he looked like a very big and huggable teddy bear."

"Awww, Lev," Gajeel growled. "Give me a little credit with the squirts." He looked at his son and said, "I was a big, bad dude that no one wanted to mess with and for good reason."

Levy giggled. "Because you'd hug them to death," she teased.

"Never!"

Suddenly Jack sprang out of bed and ran toward his father. "Hug Daddy!" he cried as he made a flying leap into the big man's arms.

Emma was out of bed quick as a wink rocketing into his leg. "Hug Daddy!" she echoed.

"You heard them," Levy said as she joined in the group hug.

With a growl Gajeel scooped them all up and gave hugs and kisses all around. Then he deposited each child on their respective bed. "Time for bed, no more stalling shrimps."

They all dived under cover and Gajeel kept a tight grasp around Levy's waist.

"Good night my little monsters," he said as he turned out the light and partially shut the door.

The kids could hear Gajeel scoop up Levy and carry her to their room down the hall.

"Psssst! Emma," a whisper called through the dark.

"Yeah?"

"I think Daddy's sweet on Mommy, too."

A giggle and then, "Yeah! He totally likes her."