"Yeah, that's her name." The lobster (as always) is really good, and the steak is every bit as good as it smells too. Hard work, he thinks, taking care of a baby. Not that they do much except eat and sleep and give out these little barely audible cries, and get the tiniest damn diapers changed, get their little asses wiped, shit like that. In fact, the busiest they've been with her aside from that (not like he can actually feed her; he can just sit there and appreciate the hell out of Breast Number One and Breast Number Two) was taking her in the shower with them.

She kind of liked it, he thinks. At least she didn't cry, and it was a great way to get her cleaned off, get her used to the gentle warm droplets, get her feeling safe in the water. He resisted the temptation to tell her that water is her friend, that it can take any shape or form, that it can crash down or embrace her with equal skill. No, that lesson will come later.

"Tonks. I knew it was kind of an odd last name. She was really nice. I've seen her around... oh, shit, for as long as I can remember but I never talked with her before. Kind of funny. I never used to even look twice at kids, especially not babies. Now I kind of can't keep my eyes off them." As if his words aren't enough, his glance strays to Junior, sleeping peacefully in her basket. He gives out an amused half-laugh and shakes his head. "How's it possible to love such a tiny little thing so damn fiercely?"

It sure as hell caught him off guard.