"Daddy! We're waiting for you!" the sweet voice of a young girl rang out. As Will entered the room, his gaze immediately found the source of who was beckoning him: Lucie, sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the middle of the room. Her eyes shone in the same way as Tessa's, he thought, though the color was an almost perfect replica of his. He crossed the room to take a seat on the couch opposite of his son.

The library of the London Institute was lit not only with the familiar blue glow on the dreary December night, but also with an intermingled flickering gold from the fireplace. The familiarity of the room was a double-edged sword, with the new and old memories merging into a bittersweet swelling of emotion for Will which never seemed to fade in its intensity, despite the fact that it had been a decade and a half since he had begun as head of the Institute.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting." The words were for Lucie, but Will's eyes flicked over to Tessa as he said them. She understood how busy he was, had never complained that Sundays were often the only day he was able to dedicate a proper amount of time to his family. But her compassion only made him long all the more for moments such as these. Her compassion, and her laughter, and her stolen glances. "So where did we leave off last? Ah, yes. Have I ever told you about the time-"

James was slouched in an over-sized sofa, his training clothes still damp with sweat. He rolled his amber eyes as he recognized his father's tell-tale lead up to the most frequently recounted stories in his home. "Surely something, anything, else has happened since you met mum that you can tell us about right now instead."

Always ever-pleasing, Lucie piped up through a fit of giggles, "Tell us again, Daddy!"

"Dad, we've heard this story a million times already!" exasperated James, throwing his hands up in a dramatic display of annoyance.

"Has it been a million already?" Will mused mischievously, bringing his hand up to his chin as though he were pondering life's most perplexing puzzle.

James, only 9 yet, was quite perceptive and keen on the ways of sarcasm and wit, as his parents were fond of playful banter. A glint blazed in his eyes as he replied, "A million and two, actually. And I've dreaded every single retelling of it since the first one."

"James!" Tessa scolded; but her quivering lip gave away that her reproach was only for show. Every day James appeared to pick up more of Will's quirks, from his facetious sense of humor to his fierce protectiveness over Lucie. Although Tessa was standing with a book in hand with her back to the fireplace, it was more due to a comforting habit rather than a desire to read at the moment. Even so, Tessa adored observing how Will interacted with the children and she therefore pretended to be focusing intently on the book.

Will stood, always ever-lively, and said with a voice full of sincerity, "Then I guess it is time for the two of you to hear the real way your mother and I made our acquaintance then, now, isn't it?"

This made even James squint his eyes, as though attempting to determine if his father was playing with him or if he really had been leaving out details this whole time. James was the type of boy who was not satisfied until he knew the complete truth to any matter, one of the few qualities he picked up from his mother.

Lucie's smile melted any resolve Tessa had left to hold up her farce about not listening. She glaced up, to find Will gazing at her. His eyes were full of happiness and disbelief. Tessa did not need to question why incredulity colored his face, as well. Both of them were astounded, day after day, at how their lives had ended up so good.