ROCKSTAR ⇒ jegulus

TWENTY FOUR

James and Regulus had finished their Thai takeout an hour previous and are now in Regulus' living room, while Beck lays by the stove that is illuminating the room along with a nearby lamp and some, various scented candles. Beck is sleeping soundly, her back rising up and down slowly.

Regulus had offered him a book upon his arrival, and when James had questioned it, Regulus had merely shrugged him off, murmuring something about Andromeda lending him her baby name book.

And so, James is sprawled out on Regulus' couch while Regulus is perched in an armchair, his laptop in front of him on a side table that bends over the arm of the armchair.

He alternates between typing, and flickering through the pages of a book with a dark blue cover. Apparently, he has left composing an article too late.

This strikes James as odd. He had never taken Regulus for somebody to risk submitting work late, to not have it prepared weeks in advance.

While Regulus works, James occasionally finds a name in the book that isn't all too terrible.

"Maxine? Nova? Marla? Polly?" James tries, pronouncing each name perfectly. "I like Maxine," He hums.

Regulus glances over to him, wrinkling his nose. "Polly?" He repeats, cocking an eyebrow. "I...I'm not a fan, m'sorry, it sounds like a cat name," He shrugs. Every name has sounded like a cat name so far to him. He tilts his head. "Maxine, I can get behind," Regulus pauses. "Max," He utters, trying the name out against his lips.

This time James wrinkles his nose. "Max. Nope. You've ruined it for me," He sighs.

"Hey, Max is cool!" Regulus defends with a small laugh. "She could always go back to Maxine, you know,"

"Max is a dog's name," James scoffs. "If we went to a playground, sound like we're calling over a giant, slobbering rottweiler," He adds. "And my daughter isn't a rottweiler, Regulus,"

Regulus snorts. "Alright, alright. We'll veto Max," He laughs.

"Max....it's too...too-" James pauses, shaking his head. "I don't want people to think that she's a little boy, Regulus, I...I want her to have a name that's...I don't know?" He trails. "Special," James cringes a little.

He wants his daughter to have a name that feels like her own, and yet something that James can attach to he and Regulus; something special. And Max isn't that to him, it doesn't carry those qualities.

James half fears that he is being too picky.

And then he reminds himself that this is something that he has to be picky about.

He additionally reminds himself of his mother's words; he'll know the right name when he hears it. He'll just know.

Regulus nods. "Special. I can get behind that too," He hums. He flicks through a book, pausing from his typing as he looks over to James, who is laid down on Regulus' couch, the book of baby names resting, still open, on his chest. "I'm surprised you don't want to name her some cool, out there celebrity name," He half smirks.

"What? Like Madonna did? What do you think of Orange Black then?" James chuckles softly.

"Orange Black?" Regulus repeats.

James half scoffs. "Oh, c'mon, I wasn't being serious," He snorts. "Plus, Orange Black is too similar to the television series, is it not?"

"No, um-" Regulus cuts himself off before speaking again. "I just didn't know that you thought of her as a Black," He hesitates.