Anya makes a grab for Jude's hair and Vic stops her hand, curling her fingers gently around the teeny fist. "Stop," Anya orders, looking as innocent as a painted cherub.

Victor shakes her head. "That's not how it works, darlin'. No hair pulling. No hitting. No pinching." Pause. "No biting. No scratching. Okay?"

She's conspicuously silent, so Victor bounces her a little. "Okay?"

"Okay." She says it grudgingly, lower lip pooched out into a pout.

"She doesn't know how to play with you, yet," Vic says.

"Roger," Jude says. He climbs carefully into the kid pen, sets Athena down next to him, and reaches his arms up for Anya. "We'll play don't-hurt-your-brother first, how's that?"