Porthos begins to carve the duck, a twinkle in his eye as he coaxes out these little pretends of their imagination, happy to think of them instead of the grief of wondering what their lives would be like if things had happened like it had for Tommy. "I could take you on a picnic," he says, eyes still sparkling. "Bring you some wine, make sure there's a house nearby, even if I'd get a touch jealous at the thought of others staring at that fine arse of yours," he says with a growl.