"Hey papa!"

He smiles, looking down at the small arms that curl around his waist, shaking his head fondly as he continues passing out the wooden swords to their newest and youngest. Fingers curl into his tunic tightly, and it brings him to shake his head again, reaching down to squeeze her hands when he's finished passing out the practice swords. "Hello my little one."

She smiles, he knows she's smiling, she loves being called his little one.

"What are you doin today, papa?"

"I'm doing my duty." He tugs her around, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to lean against his front. "What does it appear I am doing?"

"Being a good papa."

He leans down to kiss her nose lightly. "What do you want, little Ava?"

"Can't I just want to be with my papa?"

"I love having you at my side, but I know you rather well, you never call me 'papa' unless there is something you want."

She giggles softly. "You know me really well."

The Power Captain smiles down at her. "I like to think I do." He squeezes her lightly. "So, tell me what you want."

"You love me, right?"

"With all my heart."

Ava nods lightly. "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Absolutely not."

"Awwweeee! Why!"

Nisroc leans down to kiss her nose again. "Because I said so."

"I hate it when you say that."

"Hi daddy!"

His companion snorted, elbowing him gently in the ribs, and he curled his fingers around the throbbing spot as he turned to glare at them halfheartedly. "Yes, Oren?"

"Baby sister's in trouble."

"I am not!"

He turned away from his archangel. "Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Raphael felt a headache coming on, a common feeling when surrounded by these two, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He adored them, he really did, but they could try on anyone's nerves if they weren't stopped before it got out of hand.

"Enough." He looks between them both fondly. "Children."

"Hey!"

"He's the child!"

He straightens, chuckling at their antics, winding his arms around their shoulders. He pulls his daughter close against his side and the Virtue in step with him, and they make their rounds through the Infirmary, listening to their soft chattering from either side.

"She's the child."

"Watch yourself, Oren, she's my child."

"That's right daddy."

The archangel turns slightly, kissing the side of her head. "Now, tell me what trouble you've gotten into."

He was just finishing up his instruction, preparing himself for the walk through the trainees, when a familiar set of eyes met his. He smiled despite himself, walking through the lingering young angels, to meet at this special one's side.

Curling his arm around his shoulders, he pulled the boy close. "Hello, Jordy."

"Hey papa."

The Power chuckles softly, rubbing his arm lightly, guiding him through his squadron of trainees. "What do you want, young little Jordy?"

His boy looks up at him with wide eyes. "What makes you think I want something?"

"Hmm, let's see," he made a show of rubbing his chin. "Could it be that you called me 'papa'?"

Jordon smiles at his dad knowingly, he knows him really well, and leans into his side. "Well, there is one little thing."