Author's Note: After tossing back and forth the ideas of updating and not updating, I realized I hadn't written a Cy/Rae fic! I need to; so I randomly came up with this idea. I thought it was pretty good, until I tried to type the rough draft. It sucked. Extremely. So after deciding to try and clean it up, maybe add a few details, and I hope this is as good as it sounded in my mind. - _ - But normally nothing ever is, so yeah. :P This is a one-shot, and I hope you enjoy it. And I know it's WAY past Father's Day, but I just had to do this.

Victor Stone was awaken by the loud blaring of the smoke alarm. With a muffled groan, the huge man managed to lazily turn himself onto his stomach and bury his face into the fluffy pillow he'd been resting on, hoping the sound would just disappear if he did so. However, it only appeared slightly muffled, and the African-American knew he wouldn't be regaining any sleep. Defeated, he sat up in bed in nothing but a pair of wrinkled boxers, stretching his muscled arms over his head and yawning deeply.

He groped for his wife in the sheets, still drowsily blinking, but only grasping the thin bedspread. Victor allowed a small smile to cross his face before finally managing the energy to get to his feet. He hobbled towards the door, limping due to the lack of balance he currently had, and the dreadful car accident he'd been in a couple of years ago when he was a teenager, damaging his leg permanently. He was lucky the doctors hadn't replaced it with a prosthetic leg, but they'd warned him not to do anything extreme.

Which was unfortunate, because several times he would go and hang with his best friends, Dick Grayson and Garfield Logan, just to do idiotic things. But even if his leg wasn't damaged, his wife Rachel Roth (or rather, Rachel Stone) wouldn't even allow him to go out. She would just make up some excuse, but Victor knew she cared. And so did he, but he would always tease her about it with a smirk. Thinking of his dark-haired, pale-skinned wife, Victor limped as fast as he could towards the living room.

They owned a small, one-story house. It wasn't shabby or run-down, but it wasn't exactly something that resembled a two or three-story either. The walls inside were painted a homey white, the furniture was plain, and one or two bookshelves lined the shelves outside Victors' and Rachels' bedroom; fortunate because they both found interest in reading. Seeing the bookshelf, Victor grinned boyishly, but continued his journey to the kitchen.

When he finally approached the place, his nose wrinkled at the smell of the thick gray smoke wafting out of the entrance. He noticed a small and pale gray hand batting at it, and quickly entered the kitchen. Standing at the counter, clearly trying to cook, was his wife, Rachel. She held a pan in one hand and was swatting at the smoke with another, her back tensed through her dark long-sleeved t-shirt.

"How long does it take to cook a couple pieces of bacon?" Rachel muttered loudly over the blaring of the alarm, sighing, but not bothering to turn it off. Deciding to help his wife out, Victor smirked and limped over to the thermostat on the wall across from the kitchen; where a tiny white box was installed just for occasions as such. He quickly jabbed a button, the alarm instantly stopping its massive blaring, but the smoke still wafting up in clouds.

Rachel didn't even have to turn around to know it was her husband; she could hear his uneven footsteps pattering back towards her. Quickly stifling her embarrassment for knowing he'd seen her burn breakfast (which currently was a pile of black pancakes stacked onto a plate nearby; the bacon and eggs being the cause of the smoke). She quickly waved through the smoke again, trying desperately to clear it up.

"Hey, Rae," Victor spoke from behind, grinning as he limped to join his wife. He'd been calling her Rae for quite awhile, even before they'd been married and even began dating. Rachel didn't reply as she forced the bacon out from the pan, using a spatula, then the eggs. However, when the eggs didn't scrape from the pan, she got frustrated. Normally, Rachel would have managed to control her emotions, having not been very good with them, but this time she simply just turned the pan completely upside down and shook it until the eggs fell onto the plate with a nasty sounding crunch.

"Rachel," Victor's voice was amused by her side, and she only turned her head slightly towards his, her dark black hair, nearly purple, clinging to her sweaty forehead due to the heat of the kitchen, "Did you actually fry the eggs with the shells still on them?" Rachel tensed, feeling as if she should slap herself on the forehead.

"I cracked them open," She muttered, having recalled doing so, but then seeing the small little pieces of shell still clinging to the yolk. Not exactly small, if she thought, but she didn't dare say so to her husband or she would be teased for quite awhile.

Victor laughed loudly, about to reach over and snatch the plate of burnt pancakes. He had no desire to eat the crusty-looking thing, but he would try it if his wife really wanted him to. He was that in love with her. Besides, Victor would normally eat anything, burnt or otherwise. Except tofu; Garfield had persuaded him to try and eat it thousands of times, but Victor would firmly deny. He liked everything thick and meaty, not FAKE meat.

Anyways, as Victor pulled back with the plate, Rachel unexpectedly slapped his wrist lightly. "Put it down." She ordered briskly, sounding much more like a mother than a wife. She turned her head slightly to examine Victor's face, and saw a pair of curious brown eyes and an arched eyebrow greeting her.

"Why?" He questioned, but was already setting down the plate of burnt pancakes. Deep down inside, he was secretly relieved, but quickly pushed it to the side and stared back down at his wife. She was about 1 foot and a few inches shorter than him; and it was quite funny whenever she would try to reach his height to kiss him.

"I'm making breakfast today, Victor." She explained in her morose voice, quickly tucking a bang behind her ear before turning back to the crumbling bacon, crispy eggs, and the burnt pancakes spread out before her. The smoke had finally stopped, but a few wisps were still rising into the air. "You always make it." She added.

Victor chuckled, crossing his arms and continuing to stand by his wife's side. "Yeah, I know," He playfully wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders, "But is it a special occasion or somethin'?" He questioned, continuing to pester his wife. He saw the roll of Rachel's dark eyes, but didn't see the small smile wedging its way onto her pale face as she turned to face the food once more.

"Yes, but am I not allowed to do something nice for my husband?" She was always full of quick remarks. "Or is it not allowed in this household?" Victor grinned at these sharp retorts, but they didn't seem to have effected him that much. After all, he woke up to that every day laying in bed besides him, so he was pretty used to it by now. And, even though he never told her, it entertained him; to see his best friends being snapped at by his woman.

"I dunno, you tell me," Victor was obviously in a good mood this morning, apparently having shaken his sleepiness off. Rachel once again rolled her eyes, but allowed her hands to drop by her sides. She eyed the burnt food with slight disdain, but didn't allow her disgruntled sight to escape from her lips.

"Breakfast is ready." Her voice seemed even more emotionless, if that had been possible. She turned to Victor and beckoned for him to eat in, ignoring the fact that the food was probably burnt to a crisp and the flavor too ruined to taste. Victor only stayed where he was, looking down at Rachel with an idiotic grin on his face. She looked back up, arching an eyebrow as she repeated what she'd said earlier.

"Yeah, yeah, I know Rae, but how about we go out for breakfast today? We can send this to Dick and Kori," A mischievous grin crossed Victor's dark face at the thought of controlling Dick and his unusual girlfriend, Kori. Rachel knowingly folded her arms across her chest, shooting Victor a fierce glare.

Seeing this, he quickly backtracked, "Ok, ok, we can eat this." He was about to head to the fridge, thinking about how much orange juice he was gonna need to choke the meal down. Not to insult his wife or anything, but the food looked just…nasty.

"Well, well, well. I make you breakfast for Father's Day, and now you want to ship it off to your friends." Her voice was half-serious, but half-teasing, which made Victor stop in his tracks. He'd heard Rachel tease people before, but it was only half-hearted.

Victor laughed, finally shaking his shock off. "Father's Day? Yeah, cool, thanks Rac—" He stopped in mid-sentence. I'm not a dad. He quickly revolved around to face his wife, who was coolly staring at him back. She had an arched eyebrow, but an amused smile was slowly beginning to cross over her face; her eyes revealing something. Victor's face seemed to pale.

"Happy Father's Day, Vic." She pronounced his nickname slowly, her smirk slowly growing larger and larger on her face. She quickly shrank it into a miniature sized one. She turned around quickly, about to head to the kitchen table with her smirk growing wider. She hoped he'd gotten the subtle hint. Or, maybe the not so subtle hint.

Suddenly, Rachel spun around when the sound of something crashed to the floor. She blinked for a split second, then quickly turned her gaze to the floor, where her gigantic husband lay. She quickly paced across the kitchen space and nudged him with the toe of her boot. Just what she thought. "Maybe if he faints so easily I should tell him it's twins," She speaks out loud quietly, allowing a grin to cross her face as she stares down at her fainted husband.

Author's Note: The ending was kind of rushed, but LOL. I don't know if it came out as well as I planned it, but…-sigh-, like I said, whatever…. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot!