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"Then I'll offer myself for babysitting your Soul while you're at work," Carver offered practically, sitting on one of the stools and leaning back against the countertop. "I think that we'll always need babysitting help. I don't know how Miss Remi manages, even if she works from home. - I'm at your disposal. I really am grateful."

"I can't believe you two are gonna be parents to creepy little magical kids," spoke up the King of Sympathy and Tact. "Okay, Kneesocks, you'll be a badass MILF - "

"By saying this I think you are saying that you have grown tired of having teeth and want me to remove them with my fist," Carver said pleasantly.

" - 'mother I'd like to flatter' - but jesus, Johnston's gonna be the worst dad in the world. Talk about an a**-boring kid, that's the truth. 'Kay, that's all the kid talk I'm gonna stand."

"Please don't mind anything he says," Carver told her, green eyes pained. "Though if he says something you find really desperately offensive, please just tell me and I will beat the living daylights of him for you any way you'd like."

"I hope you ain't got any long-lasting attachments to him," Ama told Natalie lazily, flipping his legs up and stretching himself out on the sofa. His legs hung down a long way off the side. "He's all outta practice and skinny. He'd be ground chuck."

"You're not bulletproof yet, Collier." (It seemed to be an old argument.) He busied himself with his long, calloused fingers, putting her key on his keychain. "What are your plans for the rest of the day, Miss ********, does he 'Miss Natalie' you all damn day? That's just kinky. And kinda obnoxious. 'Blah, blah, blah, Miss Natalie, bite my balls, Miss Natalie.'"

"Ama."

"Would you care for a walk? It's a lovely afternoon," Carver offered gallantly, standing up from his flopped position next to the counter and trying to surreptitiously fix up the buttons on his shirt. "It's much better than being cooped up in my apartment. - And before you ask, Admon, you're not invited."

"Too bad, I gotta chaperone you two nymphos," Ama said, not stirring from his similar floppage on the couch. "Anyway, I'm way more fun than you. Kneesocks, am I or am I not about ten million times more fun than him? It's scientific and s**t."

That prompted no choking this time around, though Natalie may have started to get used to a certain sort of expression - with the shorter man opening the door, and Admon nothing loath to ruin everybody's fun by getting up off the couch and shambling after both of them.

"Y'know," he said, following them down the stairs, "little girl, I would beg to damn differ. See, I remember this time when Carver was a**-naked in the middle of the day in this nice little innocent village out Hamburg way and - "

Carver reeked dignity as he escorted Nat. "Ahem. My clothes had been stolen."

"The only way to safely lose him is through death," Carver kindly told her. "And I haven't got anywhere to hide the body."

They went down another flight of stairs, and Admon had caught up enough to punch his impermanent roomie in the shoulder for the remark. To his credit, Carver only winced. "Damn straight you ain't got anywhere to hide the body. You'd be digging for hours. - So, like, he's got his clothes taken, but he's got his hat, so this little troup of schoolkids comes along - "

"I will give you five whole dollars not to tell this story," Carver said.

"You gotta admit it was pretty ********' funny when it turned out Freddie'd just moved your clothes upstream."

"I maintain she did it on purpose. - Apologies, Natalie. He remembers too much of my misspent youth."

Unfortunately - or fortunately - whenever she seemed to do anything even remotely naughty, Carver either shut down in regards to it or appeared not to notice. Either. Or both. It was Admon who was making the wolf-whistle.

"Quite sure," he said. Another flight of stairs, and he held the door open for her out to fresh air and freedom. "Definitely sure."

"Should we head to the garden?"

"You two can," Ama spoke up. "I didn't think how ********' boring it'd be seeing you walk around with a teen nympho. You're the only guy in the whole wide world who can and I bet you'll talk about laundry or some s**t. See you in five, I'm gonna have a smoke and forget about you dulling my buzz. Call me if she takes her clothes off."

"I am sorry," Carver said eventually, as they watched Admon slouch off to Bethlehem to be born, er, have a cigarette. "I've never been able to control his mouth. My wife had a talent for it. I don't."

"What?" He turned to her, looking genuinely concerned. "Oh - please don't worry, Natalie. Admon brings out the worst in all of us. He certainly brings out the damn worst in me, I assure you. He makes me swear like a sailor simply by being on the same planet. Please don't hold it against him. He's... He was never the same, after Freddie died. Well. Actually, feel free to hold it against him."

He started walking in the direction of the gardens, beckoning her. "You never need to say sorry. You haven't wronged me at all. Let's just hope he decides to go through a pack or he'll smoke out my apartment later."