Ben pursed his lips, poised to argue. He thought Luke was nice, and he thought Lucian sounded stuffy and stiff. The word that came to the tip of his tongue was projecting — that Melody was only thinking about professional names because that was what she wanted for their child, because Merlin forbid he end up doing something like what Ben did for a living. It occurred to him before he spoke, however, that maybe he was projecting a little bit, too. He was assuming that his son would have something in common with him, and would be happier in a life without so many expectations as the Crouch family had thrust upon young Reuben — but maybe that was wrong. Aldous and Roman didn't seem to be suffering for their professional careers, even if that type of work had never appealed to Ben. And it wasn't as though anyone could really argue that Ben was happy for having followed his own desire for freedom and spontaneity for so long.

"Maybe this would be easier if we waited until the baby's born," he said with a shrug. "Maybe once we meet him he'll just sort of look like an Isaac or a Xavier or something."

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