Gwen looks up from where she has been chopping vegetables to see Arthur walking in with a sullen creature clinging to his neck. She glances at the kitchen clock to confirm her suspicions, though the look on his face is enough.

Her daughter's sparkly red slipper-clad feet dangle beneath where his arms brace her under her bottom, and her small face is tucked into his neck.

"Oh, sweetheart. Again?"

Arthur clutches their little girl protectively against him as Gwen comes to brush the hair away from her face. Her already red-rimmed eyes glisten with the threat of new tears, and Gwen coos as she strokes her back softly.

"Come on, baby, let's get you a bath, okay?"

Scout nods glumly, and Arthur gives his wife a soft peck on the lips before taking the child to the bathroom to get her ready.

"We have to get her going with this, Arthur," Gwen says as she leans in the doorway. His back slumps where he kneels in front of the tub.

"I know," he sighs, retrieving the small floating toy to put into his daughter's reaching hands. "It's just every time I call to check in, I get this terrible feeling like she must be so scared."

Atticus butts his way into the bathroom and laps at the tub water as Arthur strokes his fur absently.

Gwen purses her lips, moving to perch on the toilet lid. "It's the same for me, love, but we have to let her experience that and realize it's not the end of the world. She's never going to get used to the idea of school if we don't let her."

Arthur is quiet, his expression pensive. Gwen sinks to the floor beside him and grabs the baby shampoo, but then he's taking it gently from her hands to do it himself. He massages it into his daughter's dark curls, working up a lather.

"I was just thinking... What about home school? Maybe that would be easier, and then later we–"

"Arthur," his wife says gently, "We've been over this. She needs to be socialized. She needs to learn how to be away from us for a few hours a day."

"Nobody told me about this part." He shakes his head. "They just said we'd have a hard time sleeping during the first year, and that she'd be a nightmare the second year."

Gwen smooths her hand over his back and grips his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a soft kiss against his neck. "I know, love. But she's going to keep growing whether we like it or not."

"Not under my watch," he cracks a small smile, expertly finding his daughter's ticklish spot and making her giggle. "You are going to stay exactly this size, young lady," he says in his most authoritative voice, grabbing a small, pudgy hand. "Bite sized," he growls, pretending to chomp on her fingers. She squeals and slaps her free hand at the water, splashing her father's shirt.

"Oh!" Gwen laughs, jerking back. Arthur just grins and hoists her up to blow raspberries against her little tummy. Atticus takes advantage of the small gap, stepping up on the ledge and attempting to get into the bath.

"No, Atty," Arthur laughs, setting his daughter down and lugging the dog away. "Should have closed the door. You know he can't resist the bath."

"I know, but then he just whines on the other side and paws at the door and I feel bad."

Arthur turns his head sharply, arching his brows at her.

"What?" Gwen says innocently, then averts her gaze as she gets his point. "Okay, fine. But if you're going to keep leaving work early to rescue her from daycare, then I'm not gonna shut him out."

"Hardly fair," Arthur frowns, pulling Scout upright as Gwen hands him a towel to dry her off.

"Da!" she shrieks suddenly, and Arthur smiles, shushing her.

"Yes, I'm right here," he coos, rubbing her down.

"Here," Gwen brings him Scout's tiny dressing gown to wrap her in, and then lifts her into her own arms to take her into the nursery. "Your father called earlier."

Arthur grunts from the bedroom where he's changing his shirt. "What did he want?"

"To see his little angel, of course."

"Mmm, maybe he can babysit," he says only half-jokingly.

"Ooh, I like that one," Gwen grins, stretching a hand out to trail down his chest, appreciating the way the garment clings to his muscles. He snatches her hand before it reaches his waistband and kisses it with a seductive smirk.

"So I suppose that's a yes on the babysitting idea?"

Gwen shrugs. "If you can part with her for a second." A frustrated whine sounds from behind Arthur's legs where he is blocking Atticus's passage. "Might need to send Mr. Nanny along, too," she chuckles.

"Oh, he'll love that. That's a brilliant idea," he scoops Gwen against him to kiss her more thoroughly this time. "In fact," his voice becomes a low rumble, "how about we do it over a weekend?"

His hands roam over her back and downward, and Gwen can tell he's full of ideas. "If you think he'll agree," she replies softly.

"Guinevere, he'd take a week off work for her if we asked him to."

"I know, but are you sure he can handle it?"

"He's a little rusty, but he raised me, didn't he? And anyway, he has help. And if we throw Atty into the deal, we'll know she's in good hands. Good...paws?"

"Well, it's a start," Gwen admits with a huff of amusement. "If not for her, then for us. As long as you won't be all mopey."

"You're the same, baby. I'm just whinier about it."

"Too right," she grins. "But I think we can distract each other for a bit."

"Is that a promise?"

Scout lets out a loud squeal, and then she's crying out, "Mumma!"

Gwen gives him a flirtatious simper before turning to back their daughter, who hates to lose their attention.