George couldn't help but grin, little flash of what he decided was victory, and not anything else going through him. "Aww. Davies. You do care," he answered, batting his eyes and giving his cheek a smacking kiss, squirming a last time before he gave in, starting to slide out of Roger's lap. That, he decided, was a win. Why, he wouldn't have been able to say. But it was a win, anyway.
He grimaced. "Yeah, congratulations to me," he answered, a bit sourly. "I'll get to be uncle and best man and all that rubbish, probably. If we don't manage to blow up the baby on accident." George wasn't thrilled about the baby. He never liked when there was any major difference between him and his twin. One as a daddy and one not was a pretty big difference.