oh mary i&#39;m not coming home too soon

"You are a slamming hottie, Jack," Vic says. Jude turns scarlet and says, "Dad." Dads aren't supposed to flirt. Especially not his dad.

"This game sounds like a blast, huh, Ju-Ju?"

"Don't call me Ju-Ju."

"You don't like Ju-Ju, you don't like Jude-y, what am I supposed to call you," Victor jokes, softly.

$fractured_agent: (A conman's gotta make a living)$

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Jack just laughs like this is the best thing ever, watching Jude get horribly embarrassed by his dad. "You could always go with Judah."

He's never done a word scramble before, but it reminds him of exercises they had to do at the Time Agency when they were going through training.

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April hands out some paper and pen to everyone. Crayons for the younger children. And then she brings out a long list of scrambled words.

There is at least 50 of them listed there.

((not going to have an actual list. LOL))

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Vic's especially talented at word scrambles, but she doesn't want to be the one to win, so instead she huddles next to Jude and helps him out.

((Makes sense!))

$fractured_agent: (What do you mean?)$

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This particular version of English is not Jack's first language, but he's been getting in some good practice recently, so it's a challenge but not an insurmountable one. He has to sit there and puzzle out many of them though.

((No complaints here either, lol))

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April just acts as the judge for the contest. And when everything is done, it is Jude who has the most words unscrambled.

So he gets the prize.

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"Congrats, honey," Victor says. Jude blushes proudly, another habit he inherited from his dad.

$fractured_agent: (Casual)$

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"Great job," Jack agrees, joining in the praise. "You're a natural."

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"Another good game is making a baby pool, guessing when the baby will be born. Weight. Gender."

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"I guess forty pounds," Jude says, with a cheeky grin.

"You hardly weigh forty pounds," Vic says. Though that's not true.

$fractured_agent: (Wristcomp)$

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"Absolutely not," Jack says with a shudder. He's never had a natural childbirth, since the other baby he carried wasn't compatible with his physiology enough for that, but just the thought of it is horrifying.

"Why's it called a pool?" he wants to know. He still isn't sure why this party is called a shower either when there's no showering going on, either.

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"People put money on their wagers. And in the end, the parents get half the money, and the person who gets the most right gets the other half."

"It is a pool of money." April shrugs. She doesn't get it either.

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"Pooling can mean pulling resources together," Victor says, just to add to what April said.

$fractured_agent: (Listening to you)$

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"That makes sense, I suppose," Jack says with a nod. "Am I allowed to guess? I might have an unfair advantage."

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"Of course you can. I was allowed to make guesses when I was pregnant." And she had a similar unfair advantage.

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"I'm not great with estimations," Victor says. "But I'll give it a go."

$fractured_agent: (Wristcomp)$

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"I'm gonna guess it'll be eight pounds, and a boy. I don't think guessing the date would be fair for anybody since it'll probably have to be a surgical birth though."

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"I am going to guess seven pounds and six ounces. And a boy also."

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"Seven and ten, and boy," Vic chirps.

$fractured_agent: (Casual)$

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Jack grins and stage whispers towards his abdomen. "Hear that, kid? You've got to play favorites now. And if you end up being a girl, I'm going to laugh for a long time."

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"Baby?" Jonathan points at Jack's tummy.

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Victor is just overcome, and she gives Jonathan a big kiss on the cheek, and then she hugs Jack tightly from behind (and a little to the side), arms draped over his shoulders.

$fractured_agent: (Sepia tone oldschool)$

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"That's right," Jack affirms, leaning into Victor's touch. He's a very hands-on kind of guy, even when there's no ulterior motive. He just likes human contact. "That's your Uncle Victor and Uncle Cole's baby."

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Jonathan giggles as Victor gives him a kiss. And reaches out his arms too. "Hugs!"

April chuckles at her silly boy, picking him up for hugs.

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