[Clive's gentle touches come with equally gentle tingles that rise all the way to Jill's scalp, and she exhales, content, before reaching to tilt his face towards her for another kiss. She smiles into it before pulling away, enjoying the simplicity of being held. Time shifts into something languid and relaxed, and she knows she could easily lose the entire day to this mood, soft and slow and sweet as it is.

Maybe they can't have children here. Maybe they never will. The thought that they might is nice all the same, and she carries it forwards without getting bogged down in all the buts that would arise if she'd let them.]

And you for a father. I can see the effects of your love on Joshua even now, and I know that our children will be blessed in much the same way.

[Little Randolph and Sliver Mae Rosfield both. The names sound even better in Clive's voice than they did in her mind. And when he offers up Hanna as an option, she's all too happy to follow suit.]

If there's a Hanna, then there ought to be a Rodney, too.

[A moment's pause follows as Jill considers other names. Her own thoughts travel to Elwin – to how, for all his shortcomings, he still gave her a better life than most in his position would have. And even if she'd never really seen him as a father, she can acknowledge all the same that he'd treated her as his daughter. There are some things about him she'll never be able to accept, but nothing that leads her to believe that he doesn't deserve the same treatment as her father, should Clive desire to grant it to him.

So, her next question isn't a concession. It's no trade of one namesake for another. It's asked in earnest, in a tone that's soft and warm with a melancholic lilt.]

Would you like to honour your father as well? I wouldn't mind bringing a second Elwin into the world, or maybe an Eli or a Winnie.