They came back just in time. And Baleg handed them a license before they even went to the quest board.

"What is this?" Morris asked, looking at the quest details. "Rank E? Why?"

"What, you want to risk your lives back-to-back? Leave that for the S ranks! Now, off with you," it was a simple babysitting mission. Leander rubbed the back of his head after they left the guildhall.

"Do you think we should take Armaros along? I mean, he likes children," Armaros doted on the children who did their exercise with the three adventurers.

"Why not? He can look after the child while we plan our next mission," Morris suggested, and the three went to the inn. Armaros was curled on his bed, with a book, and Fluffs laying on his chest.

"Hey, Armaros, we have a quest for you. Babysitting an actual baby," Armaros's eyes shone with mirth.

"Really? When are we going?" Leander grinned at that. He had known the dungeon core would be happy at the prospect.

"Now. Get dressed, and we are going," Armaros was in his pajamas, so, they all stepped out of the room to give him privacy. Now that Armaros ate regularly and didn't use his mana all that much, he could walk with a surer step. But he still looked painfully skinny.

Armaros got out in dress pants and a t-shirt, his long, raven, hair tied in a loose ponytail. The tips curled around like the vine of a flower. 

"My first quest," Armaros murmured. He had tried to get the three to teach him how to be an adventurer, but they had refused. Saying that he was too skinny, and he was going to get himself hurt. They did allow him to do the walking in place exercise, not seeing any harm in it. And, hoping, that it would help him build up his muscles.

"We can take you along to the easier ones," Dorian murmured, and he received two nods. The house of their charge was small, but cozy looking. It was a bright blue color and had a colorful mosaic on its walkway. Armaros was staring at the mosaic, that depicted a waterfall, with awe in his eyes.

"Some day, once you get more meat on your bones, we will take you to see the real deal," Morris promised. He was still not used to how Armaros found every little thing amazing. But, he supposed, that was normal for the dungeon core. He had lived his first three hundred years in the sewers of Huergaz and hadn't known anything but them, before Leander took him off the pedestal.

They were let in by a woman who looked to be rushing for somewhere, and then led to the nursery.

"Christopher likes to drink his bottle every two hours," the woman began to instruct them. "He adores the frog plushie, so, if he fusses, give it to him."

Armaros drank in all the instructions and the sight of the house. The house was just as blue on the inside as it was on the outside. But, the nursery was a soft orange color. Armaros found he liked this house better than the inn he lived in.

"Christopher doesn't like baby talk," the woman finished, and Armaros sighed. He had looked forward to babying the baby. The woman picked her bag from next to the crib, kissed the baby boy, and left.

The three adventurers went to sit in a corner, doing their huddle, as Armaros went closer to the crib.

"Hello," he reached in a finger and the baby grabbed it. It had green eyes, but they were not flecked with gold, as Armaros's dream children's eyes. "I am to be your friend for the day."

Armaros resisted the urge to use baby talk to the baby and looked around for the frog plushie he had been told about. He found it on a nightstand, and he handed it to the baby.

Christopher smiled and placed the frog's ear in his mouth, and Armaros melted at the sight. Then, Armaros rummaged in Leander's memories for what people used to do to the healer when he had been a baby.

These memories were hazy and faded, but he saw a woman, who was blonde like Leander, place a hand over her eyes and ask the then still baby Leander where he was. Armaros put his hand over his eyes and then chuckled.

"Christopher, where are you?" He slowly took the hand off and pretended to look surprised. "There is Christopher!"

The baby giggled and kicked his little feet. Armaros tickled them for a while, and, when the baby began to fuss, he went and took the milk bottle from the warmer.

Then, slowly, as if he was holding a fragile glass figurine, he picked up Christopher and made sure he was supporting the baby's head. He placed the bottle next to the little boy's mouth and watched as the baby began sucking out the milk.

All the while, Leander was watching Armaros with a soft look on his face. He decided that the dungeon core would become a great father, one day.

Would the woman say no to Armaros coming to look after the kid, from time to time? He seemed to have already made quite the connection with Christopher.

Leander would suggest it to their quest giver, and he was sure that they would be able to work something out. Morris was watching Leander like a hawk. He knew the soft look the healer had on his face for what it was.

It was adoration, pure and simple. Morris liked it when it was directed at him, and it was, often. But he was irked every time Leander would stare at someone else like that.

Yet, Morris had said that he would share, and he had meant it. He was not going to get jealous over another person added to, well, Leander's harem. His eyes found Dorian's and the tank nodded.

As they came to a silent agreement, Armaros placed Christopher back in the crib and began to play with two plushies, telling him a story from Leander's memories. The boy clutched the frog plushie and stared at Armaros with wide, trusting, green eyes. Not fussing even a little.