"Mr. Cloud?"

Setting down the wrench, Cloud took his goggles off of his face and began to peel off his gloves, narrowing his eyes as he moved out of the cloud of debris from the exhaust pipe, his feet finding a way across the various parts. He stalked over to the front and turned off the engine of his motorcycle before he wiped the grime from his face. Carefully, making sure first that nothing was amiss in the project, he settled his gaze on the cause of the slight pulling on his jeans and sat on his haunches.

"Hey, Squall: Do you need something?"

The eight-year-old child nodded. "I'm hungry."

"Ellone told me that she packed a bag of lunch for you; she left it on the kitchen counter," the blond replied, pushing obstinate locks of hair from his vision. "Did you see that?"

"I … I have …" There was a pause. "But Sephy ate it all."

Sighing, Cloud fought the urge to go to his neighbor's house in all his annoyed glory and demand Mrs. Jenova to keep her son under control—lord knew what happened last time when the H.O.A. member Kefka got involved. "I see."

"Mr. Cloud?"

"Yeah?"

Squall toed the dirt before him, suddenly fixated on the palms of his hands. "Can I have a sandwich?"

"A sandwich?"

"Yeah."

" … I guess that's fine."

The brunet's eyes widened. "Really?" Knitting his brow, he looked very thoughtful for a good while before he tugged on the rough denim again, earnestness apparent in every aspect presented. "Can I have a chocobo printed on it, like Sis' sandwiches?"

"Well, I don't know if I can draw that, but I'll try."

"Thanks."

After eliminating the dirt and impurities on himself, Cloud switched his attire and stalked over to the kitchen with a curious Squall in tow, turning on the heater along the way. He washed his hands in the sink and gestured for the child to sit in the nearby barstool while he grabbed the necessary ingredients from the pantry. Gingerly, his arms full, the mechanic balanced said things and placed them on the counter, popping off the lids of the condiments as soon as he located the butter knife, not after he asked the younger male if he wanted a peanut butter and jelly or ham. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster and poured the other a cup of water per request.

His charge began to move his legs up and down as he drank. "Do you like peanut butter and jelly?"

"It's not bad, but I'm pretty sick of it."

Squall looked up in surprise. "'Sick of it'? I want to eat this all the time."

"Trust me; when you're a broke mechanic, you're going to wish you never even knew what this stuff was."

Quickly, the older being nabbed the hot pieces of toast as soon as they popped out and took hold of the butter knife, dipping it into the peanut butter; he stirred the thickness until he felt an even consistency and scooped up a decently sized portion while his other hand somehow managed to extract the crusts from both pieces. His sister-in-law's sibling quietly looked on, the only sounds being the light thudding of his sneakers on the wood, and Cloud found the silence to be a comfortable one as he efficiently finished spreading the peanut butter; jelly came on the same way, and all that was left to do, much to Squall's delight, was to, in some miraculous fashion, draw a chocobo on the top slice.

"How do you want me to do this?" the taller male questioned, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "Never thought about designing food."

"Do you have powdered sugar?"

"I don't think so—wait." Cloud rummaged around in the top shelf of the cabinet. "Now that you mention it, I do have some."

"Okay; so, you first have to draw it with the jelly, and after you're done, you sprinkle powdered sugar on it and shake off the rest."

The blond shook his head. "Sounds too simple to be true."

"Sis draws Boko on my sandwiches every Tuesday; it looks nice."

He couldn't help the slight tugging on his lips. "Fair enough. I guess an attempt wouldn't hurt."

"Don't worry, Mr. Cloud; it's going to taste really good."

"You think?"

Squall nodded.

"I know so."