Novembers in Anville Town were picturesque. The rustic buildings, central turntable and surrounding evergreen forest made it feel like a scene from a holiday movie even when there wasn’t snow on the ground; the only things required were a chill in the air and a glimmer of frost.

It made visiting the local cafe feel like something truly special, no matter how mundane the occasion. That wasn’t to imply their reason for meeting Lane was unimportant-- quite the opposite, actually-- but the rhythm of it was comforting in how commonplace it felt.

Despite the frigid winds rustling through the trees, the scenic atmosphere was enough to usher their partial family unit out into the cafe’s patio seating, trusting that their drinks and winter wear would keep them safe from the elements until it was time to part ways for the day.

Their mother’s partner Pokemon was also a boon, his copious, downy wings excellent at insulating against the weather. While it went without saying that he’d notice the difference between his human’s boys, nobody had expected him to connect the dots beneath the extra layers; he was making a valiant effort at splitting his attention fairly, but the fact that he was so enamored with Ingo’s middle spoke volumes.

Which was only fair, because, if Lane’s tirade was anything to go by, multiple volumes could be written about Altaria’s latest antics.

“--was a nightmare for the whole of migration season. You wouldn’t believe how many passing Swanna Dragonite had to drive off before Altaria got any ideas.” Lane finished in a huff, staring daggers at the would-be Casanova in question.

Altaria tried to settle more firmly into Ingo’s lap; while his actual body mass fit without issue, the sheer amount of fluff sticking out made him look horribly, comically imbalanced-- like the next gust of winter wind might sweep him off to join his water type paramours.

“Gross.” Emmet decided, ever-consistent in his stance on romantic escapades, and Ingo stifled a laugh into the cinnamon-leppa concoction their mother had recommended in lieu of coffee.

Altaria gave a low honk, unconcerned with this pronouncement, and contentedly set his head down.

Lane, meanwhile, rolled her eyes, nodding in the bird's direction. “I recognize that recent events have probably skewed your understanding of how this works, but if it wasn’t for that little floozy and his indiscretions you’d be down two Pokemon.”

They all knew exactly what she meant, but given the opportunity, Ingo found himself unable to resist stirring up a little drama. With a polite cough, he said, “The passengers are human, actually, in spite of their parentage. I appreciate that you’re finally being honest in how you view me, however.”

Lane sputtered, the pink that the cold had wrought upon her cheeks deepening to red, “No, what you are is a menace.”

“Ah, he gets a new endearment?” Emmet asked, grinning widely, “No fair.”

"Fine. A menace and the absolute bane of my existence. How did I get so lucky?" She glanced upwards, appealing directly to the dragons.

Emmet preened, happy to play into the act, but Ingo didn’t join this time, instead working gloved fingers into the fluffy wing under his hand.

Bundled up along with their father, one of the passengers bumped him. It was still far too early for anyone else to detect it when they moved, which was fortunate for Altaria considering that, so close to its head, it seemed like it might have been a targeted attack. Maybe they shared Emmet’s opinion on seasonal relations.

Or maybe it was a signal for him to get on with it.

“There was something else we had hoped to cover with you today.”

Lane’s lips quirked into her usual languid-but-heartfelt faux-smile, “I don’t have anywhere to be, sweetheart. Now’s the time for anything you want to talk about.”

He nodded, and while his heart raced at the prospect of really committing-- the idea that this wasn’t going to stay between Emmet and himself any longer-- it was so much easier to broach than the initial disclosure months prior. “After my recent ultrasound, Emmet and I came to an agreement. We’ve decided not to give the passengers up once they’re born.”

“Oh my. That’s quite the turnaround you’ve chosen.”

And the words sounded right-- both in choice and delivery-- but...

“You’re not surprised.” Emmet said on both their parts.

“...hah. Well, no dearling, but I’ve only been sure since our call on Sunday” She said sheepishly, and glanced back to Ingo, “You’ve given them a cutesy nickname. You only ever did that for your firstborn.”

“The term you’re looking for is ‘starter’ and you know that.”

Brushing that aside, Ingo tried to steer them back on track. “What are your thoughts on this development?”

“Darling, if you’re asking whether or not I approve...” Lane trailed off, trying and failing to find the right words.

“I’m not.” He said with a confidence that he’d only just discovered where this topic was concerned, “Not in the sense that it would change our course, at least; it’s more that I’m looking to an experienced parent for her perspective”

She relaxed a bit, rolling her cup between her palms, “It is a major change from what you said before, though if it’s taken this long to come around to it, I have to assume you’ve put a lot of thought in. In this case, I’m a little worried about your work-life balance.”

“One of many adjustments to be made.” Emmet assured her. One of her brows quirked and she tilted her head shallowly, which meant that she didn’t fully believe it.

“Beyond that,” She hummed, taking in one of her sons and then the other, “You’re using collective terms, so you intend to play to your strengths, which is a good start. The first thing to know about raising twins is that you want to match their numbers at the very least and exceed them if at all possible; if you’re down a person, it’s easy to get overwhelmed fast. It’s also incredibly easy to fall into a cycle of not getting enough sleep, which makes everything seem overwhelming, but you can get around it by napping when-- Wait. What am I saying? You’re twenty-one weeks, this isn’t the time.”

“No. Go on.” Emmet said, attention unwavering, “It’s not too early for this information.”

With the exact same focus, Ingo added, “Any idea what to expect is incredibly valuable. The decision’s already been made, but as you yourself said, this is the time to share whatever you feel is relevant. I did ask for your opinion, after all.”

The combined weight of their attention could be intimidating-- a fact the both of them tended to forget or underestimate-- but Lane was used to it, and remained utterly unfazed.

“Dear dragons, you two are proving my point. Safety in numbers,” Lane chuckled to herself, “Alright, alright, but I don’t have enough coffee left for this. With me if you would, Emmet. Ingo, try to keep that baby calm while we’re gone. It’ll be good practice.”

As she wheeled by, Altaria curled his neck to stare at his trainer with big eyes, as if asking how she could say such cruel things about her beloved partner-- and when she’d left his field of vision, set his head back down, beak pressed into the gap between coat buttons. A contented sigh escaped it.

Somehow, Ingo doubted quelling the passengers would be so easy.