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Beatrix Darnell really was distressingly, depressingly, certifiably insane.

She chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully, scribbling down in her daily planner; she had drawn up a list of pros and cons. The cons were trailing high by a winning streak. The pros were lagging behind.

Companion for Jacoba, she wrote in the pros section. Two children not noticeably more difficult than one child. Set-up already in place. Free daycare and schooling. Solace in old age. She thought a moment and added, possibly, considering Jacoba would never be a solace in anyone's old age. Giving back to community without having to breed. Carrying on family line?? She added a few more question-marks, sighed, and turned to the cons.

You are blind, Beatrix, was up at the top, underlined and done over a few times with the pen until it threatened to break through the paper. Lack of maternal feeling. Teaching job. Jacoba difficult. Jacoba will not enjoy a sibling - She added 'Jacoba socialised?' to the pros quickly - total lack of previous independence. Chained to children until college. Chained to children forever. Emotional leeches.

At the bottom, she drew a new row.

FACT

and under that:

the cabbage is already here.

Jacoba had been singularly uninterested until exposed to a picture-book, A Baby Is Coming! about how wonderful it was to have a little brother or sister. She watched Beatrix spritz the cabbage in water, read the book upside-down, and glared at all the pages that had the baby and the older sister playing games and doing things. The more she realised what the idea entailed, the less she liked it, especially when Beatrix wasn't doing anything interesting like being fat.

Now that Beatrix's undivided attention was in jeopardy, she realised its presence and feared its going. She watched very, very closely anything Beatrix did with the cabbage: in a fit of something resembling fondness, every time her mother spritzed the cabbage, she turned around and spritzed Jacoba's hair as well. Jacoba always broke out in a fit of wicked chuckles, apparently appreciating being 'fed' at the same time as the unwanted Little Sibling.

It wasn't quite enough, though, and every so often Jacoba would turn to the cabbage and give it suspicious looks. It was up high - it wasn't as though Beatrix was quite worried about Jacoba destroying it, but - well - it didn't help that the small girl toddled up to it every night, shouted "SUCKS!" and went off to bed in satisfaction.

Beatrix had also picked up the old copy of Wind And The Willows and had hardly gotten to the Water Rat's introduction before Jace clambered into her lap quite determinedly so that the story was not being read solely to Baby Cabbage.

Whoever was in the vegetable was going to need lots of therapy.

Well, thought Beatrix - her legless daughter, her bandaged eyes, the general battlezone of their lives - it won't be alone in that.

Another long day of wrestling with the pedagogical hell that was Mathematics Level One. Beatrix hid a face-splitting yawn behind her hand; Jacoba would be in daycare today until five o'clock, so the risible duo of that Chinese man and the Irish-American could take on the terrible burden of looking after her until then. Simple things like shopping sans toddler and going out of one's own accord had taken on a new shine: at least motherhood made you appreciate alone time.

One of the windows was stuck: she had called the janitor about it at lunch. The other ones could be rolled down, though. She set her cabbage out on the desk, spritzed it as an afterthought, and started the long boring process of rolling down the high windows and pushing in all the chairs. Her office was locked up already; all Bea needed to do was leave, complete with the class's slightly roughed-up maths books. It had only been how short a time, and they'd already managed to make them look like warzones? Ugh.

She dusted most of the work off the chalkboard except the section she kept for homework, and what they hadn't managed to get through that afternoon. She was going to get a chalkboard monitor, she thought. Maybe Antony or Manuela - a roll monitor, too, might as well instill them with a sense of responsibility.

Tyler knocked on the door twice before stepping in. "I came to fix the window," he said softly, having never actually dealt with the math teacher face to face before other than having her ask him to do this. Something about her... struck him as strange.

He glanced around, his eyes catching on the cabbage on the desk. He hesitated to ask, though.

"Oh, thank you awfully," Beatrix said; she rubbed a little fretfully at the bandage around her eyes. "It's just jammed or something - I didn't want to push it in case the whole thing came down on me. It's just that one over there, in the middle. I'm sorry to call you out for something so small, but it does get horribly stuffy in here and I need the windows open."

He nodded, heading for the window and pulling out a small oil can from his tool chest. "You, ah, mind if I ask a question?" he asked hesitantly as he started to work.

"No, of course not," the woman said, pulling one of the pins out of her neat blonde bun and fixing it back in more neatly. It seemed to be a habit, as one would never know when blind if one's hair was messy or not. She was walking over to the cabbage again, dabbing it with a tissue to take off excess water. "Unless it's about the window, because I promise I didn't jam it."

"No, ma'am, it's about the cabbage. You see, my wife has been a bit disturbed because she can't have one of her own, and I was thinking it wouldn't be so bad to adopt. How different is a cabbage kid from a normal kid?" he asked slowly.

Beatrix turned around in surprise; she certainly hadn't been expecting that particular question. "Well," she said, "for a start, a cabbage-child develops much more quickly than a normal child. It's not like having a normal baby that only starts walking and talking after a year or so. You can go from a toddler to a fully-grown child within half a year. This doesn't seem to affect them too badly," she added thoughtfully. "It's just a case of, well, having to be on the ball."

He nodded, thinking about it for a long moment. "So they grow up that fast, huh?" That might be a problem, he admitted silently. His wife wanted the whole thing. But then again--

"Any special needs?" he asked. "I mean, do they need special vitamins or anything?"

"None," she said briskly. "In fact, as far as I can tell, they all seem to be healthy as horses. It's just a matter of gauging where they're at - the first few weeks, I had my baby on formula, but she moved to solids too in a blink of an eye. I mean, it all depends - it might be a special case, but my cabbage child is handicapped. It's just a matter of getting her a wheelchair when she grows up, though. Heaven only knows when that will be - next week, next month, next year."

He nodded, checking the window to make sure it moved easily and silently. It did. "Thank you for the information," he said politely. "I'll tell my Missy about it. She's still a bit... down."

"If it helps," Beatrix ventured, surprising herself now - "Cabbage children are good for those of us who have... if not wasted years, been waiting too long."

Ugh. How sentimental was she getting? She had been reading too many baby books.

He snorted. "She hasn't," he admitted. "She's about ten years younger than me. But I have. Too many years serving the country. This should work now, but if you have any more problems just call me," he added, checking the window one more time.

He paused, though, looking at the cabbage.

It looked as though the cabbage's broad, green leaves had turned towards him. "Oh," Beatrix said, feeling momentarily jealous. "Usually it only does that to my voice."

"That's because she knows a good heart," he said as he moved closer. "Can I touch?"

"Oh, please, be my guest," said the mathematics teacher. "They like any stimulation. She seems to love colours. Well - I say she," Beatrix added embarrassedly. "I'm hoping for another girl. A boy would put Jacoba's nose squarely out of joint."

He nodded, touching the cabbage ever so gently. It felt a lot like the grocery store plants. It was amazing that they could put a kid in one of them. "Jacoba..." he said slowly. "Is she the little redheaded girl?"

"Her reputation precedes her, I see," her mother said dryly. The cabbage looked exactly the same as a large, healthy grocery-store cabbage, but it seemed a little more... alive. "She's a handful. If you and your wife do decide to adopt, I hope your child is a little more settled than Jacoba."

He smiled at her, stepping back from the cabbage. "I've seen her while cleaning in the daycare area," he admitted. "She's got a lot of spirit." It actually was a compliment. A spirited kid was a tough kid.

Beatrix actually laughed at that; it was a bit of a tired laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "Thank you for that," she said. "Spirit is one thing she has in abundance. She's worse than a boy. Do you and your wife prefer boys or girls?"

"I don't think we mind either way," he admitted. "As long as it's healthy."

"Well, I'd offer you Jacoba but that seems too cruel," Beatrix said lightly. "If you need help, if you or your wife have any more questions, I'd be happy to answer them. I'm sure Mr. Cheng and Mr. Luck wouldn't mind her visiting the daycare, either, if she wanted to see the babies."

He nodded. "I might actually bring her to do that," he admitted. "She's still thinking it over, you know?" He didn't think it was something worthy of being kept secret. If they DID adopt Dr. Darnell would find out soon enough.

"Well, the very best of luck to you and Mrs. Deakon," Beatrix said sympathetically. Now, there was a couple who were absolutely everything on her pros list: two-parent childless family, wanting a child, healthy and non-handicapped. "I suspect you'd make good parents."

"I suspect you do, as well," he told her. "Otherwise Jacoba wouldn't be so comfortable with herself." It was a polite way of saying things could be much worse for the little legless girl.

Beatrix, who so rarely got compliments at all about her daughter's deportment, smiled a genuine and sightless smile in Tyler's direction. "Thank you very much," she said, touched, putting the last papers in her folio. "I live in hope. I was just thinking that you and Mrs. Deakon sound like a much more stable, two-person family. Come on, Cabbage."

The cabbage was placed securely and safely into a duffel bag. "I have to take it with me," Beatrix told Tyler. "Jacoba turned into a baby at 3 AM one night. I panic that this one will decide to do the same when I'm not around."

"I'll remember that if I get one," he said seriously. And he would. The kid would come to work with him, if needs be.

"If only all fathers followed your model," Dr. Darnell said, and smiled. The bag was zipped up. "Thank you for fixing the window. And - again, good luck to you and the Mrs. I really think you're the first wannabe parent I've seen who I haven't had any doubts about - and that includes myself."

He smiled slightly. "It's Missy," he admitted. "She's the one that was really meant to be a parent." He put his oil can away and picked up his tool box. "But thanks."

"Then all the best for you and Missy."

Beatrix had to physically stop herself from asking the cabbage to say goodbye to Mr. Deakon; mothering a toddler had fried her brain cells. "Have a good evening," she said a little ruefully. "Enjoy what non-parental time you have left."

"You, too," he said. "The good evening part, that is."

"The other part is inescapable," she said lightly, and with Thwomp in tow left the room.

Melissa Deakon and Beatrix Darnell's 'new mother cabbage' date had been ruined entirely by one thing; the fact that Bea's cabbage had had the temerity to pop out before the date could happen into a fully-fledged baby. (For her part, the blonde-haired woman still comfortably blamed Jack in full, as it had happened on his watch.) The outing had therefore morphed into a baby-and-cabbage trip, Wisp's first for any real length of time other than going to the shops, being only a few days old.

She was as unlike Jacoba as a baby could get: she had a sunny, sweet nature, loving and affectionate. Her speech seemed markedly further than her red-headed sister's, though she really wasn't as quick off the mark as Jacoba could be: and she lacked the infantile biting tongue that Jacoba had developed, as well. She was loving and giving and adorable, the downside being that she also had the energy level of an atomic bomb.

She had been fascinated with Missy from the start, shyly peeking out from the pram and every so often announcing "Pritty!" in obvious awestruck wonderment. (She seemed to have a thing for red hair, if her immediate amazement at her sister was any indication.) She would also say longingly, "Pritty hairs," and then play with her curly blonde ponytail. Definitely a child who was going to like dolls.

"Now, that cabbage is definitely bigger than my girls' were," said Beatrix, who had moved from the terror stage to the boundless pride stage, with small portions of still terror in-between. "I'd say definitely a boy."

"He's heavy, too," Missy admitted, only slightly bragging. She had him in a huge purse, hanging over her shoulder. It was going to be her baby bag once he grew into diapers. "But I'm kind of hoping for a boy, not that there's anything wrong with little girls, isn't that right, sweetie?" she asked, leaning down to smile at Wisp.

Wisp came all over with giggles; she hid her face behind her hands at being addressed by the obvious toddler equivalent of Miss World. Then she hugged her blue bunny tightly to her chest, nodding furiously. She didn't quite know what Missy had said, but she agreed, because it contained 'little girls' in it and she was one!

"You gotting a baby," she said.

"'Getting'," Beatrix corrected. (It was never too early to start correcting.)

That was what she had said! "Uh-huh, gotting."

"Would you like to play with Mrs. Deakon's baby once he comes out his cabbage?"

"Yeah!" Wisp smiled widely, showing off both dimples and the little blue star mark on her face. "Play BARBIE."

"Your poor son," Beatrix told Missy, but she was smiling benignly at her newest daughter's cutesy antics. "Oh, there's the baby store; you want a crib, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "A large one, I think, since they seem to grow so quickly. But I still haven't decided on what color to do the room in!" she admitted. "Baby blue or mint green?"

"I'd say mint green, just in case. Gender-neutral, you know, just in case you get a girl." The baby store was a pastel rainbow; Wisp could hardly contain herself at all the colours, and started up a plaintive chant of up up up up up before Beatrix leant down to pick her out of the stroller and balance her on her hip. "I painted Wisp's room yellow - it works just as well. I'm using Jacoba's crib at the moment, as we're trying to get her used to a bed. Are you going to have Tyler wallpaper it, or paint?"

"Paint," Missy said straight away. "That way we can change it easily when he grows to a child. "And Mint green and pale yellow would look good, don't you think? Do you like all the pretty colors, Wisp?" she added, adoring the little one so. She was too cute!

"Thank you so much for coming with me," she added. "Tyler was called up to church to help with some of the maitanence work, and he couldn't possibly say no, you know?"

"Oh, no, no, I quite understand," said Beatrix easily, leaning forward to examine with her hand a mobile consisting of varicoloured teddybears. Wisp leant one rainbow-clad arm out to bat at one before her mother could stop her, and they all made a jingling bell noise. She was shifted to the other hip. "I'm just grateful I have somebody to shop with - I haven't any female friends here, I usually make these trips by myself."

Wisp beamed at Missy over Beatrix's shoulder. She loved being talked to; and Missy looked exactly like a Disney princess! "Uh-huh," she said, ponytail bobbing furiously. Then she beamed so hard that little pink rainbows suddenly formed, prismatics sparkling in a halo near her head like the shine off water.

Beatrix, who could see the spike in magic but no idea what Wisp was actually doing, just sighed in mild consternation. "She's doing something funny again, isn't she? - Oh, have you and your husband chosen names yet?"

"Oh how pretty!" Missy said. "Wisp makes rainbows!" The fact that a kid could do such a thing didn't seem to bother her at all. "Oh, and I was thinking something that starts with a Chris, like Christina for a girl, or Christian for a boy. Does that sound good?"

Wisp buried her head in her mother's neck and played with a few strands of her hair, doing her damndest to work the clip out of Beatrix's bun as they walked on. "Very nice," Bea said approvingly, noting down as an aside that her child spewed out colours. She could get Jack on that. "Traditional. I like Christian for a boy - Chris as a nickname, do you think?"

"Oh, most likely," Missy said. "It's such a comfortable name." She paused as she caught sight of the cribs. "Oh, there they are!"

Beatrix followed along placidly to the cribs; she reached out a hand as Thwomp hovered around to help her 'see'. Wisp, happy to help, also touched the sides of the cribs in case that did anything. "Think these are big enough?"

Missy looked them over. "Even if he's a boy, I doubt he'll be huge, right? Babies usually aren't. Oh, how about this one?" she asked, heading for a slightly larger one done in white and mint green. "Does this look comfortable?"

"That's fairly broad," the other woman said. (Wisp piped up, "Green!") "I'm sure that will fit - he can't be that enormous."

"Of course not," Missy agreed. "He can fit into a cabbage, right?" She had no idea about the null space inside. "I like this one, it looks sturdy and very classy. The wood is nice," she added as she ran a hand down the bars, tugging on them. Definitely tough.

"I also need a dresser drawer set."

"Well, we can probably get it in the same wood, to match," Beatrix said, tapping the side. "This is oak." (Nicely helped by the fact that Thwomp could tell her the magical make-up of things.) "They probably have loads of the same sets of things around - let's see."

Luck was with them: there was a mint-green and white dresser among all the dresser sets. "You can keep using them when he's a child," the other woman continued. "Mint green and white is a bit girlie, though, I suppose - but another coat of paint could fix that."

"Rainbow!" said Wisp. "Paint!" Why settle for just green and white?

"Do you think he'd like rainbows, sweetie?" Missy asked Wisp, even as she looked over the small dresser. "Yes, I think I'll get both of these. What do you think I should do for the design? Teddy bears? Precious Moments! Oh, those are so cute!"

Obviously she had already decided.

Obviously Missy was more than a little crunchy, but really, genuinely sweet on the whole, Beatrix considered. "Make rainbows!" Wisp cheered, and Beatrix considered that Wisp was turning out to be a little crunchy as well.

"Do you think I'm being silly?" she asked abruptly, turning to look at Bea again. "How long will he stay a baby?"

If it was too short... what would she do with a crib?

"Oh, it can all depend," her companion said gently. "Jacoba is still a baby, and it's been over a month. It can take a while - I'd expect two. There are so many parents that you could always pop a notice up at the Liberty Center advertising a crib, or the daycare might buy it off you. They probably go through them at a rate of knots."

"That's a wonderful idea!" she said, cheering right back up. "Now we just take the tag here," she added, grabbing one of the slips of paper out of the plastic tags. "And one of these, she added, moving to the crib.

"Should we look at clothes and baby supplies, too?" she asked. "They have them here, right?"

"Absolutely," said Beatrix. "Let's go and investigate. I need heaps of things for Wisp - she doesn't fit into Jacoba's, after all."

The clothing section was full of bright colours and the tiniest socks that a woman could ever imagine; Beatrix's fingers traced over the embroidery of a bright little pinafore. "I have terrible trouble matching clothes," she said. "Nobody told me Jacoba was a redhead until after I bought her pink things. I - you know, Melissa, I don't actually have any idea what colour Wisp's hair is."

"Yellow!" Wisp said helpfully.

Beatrix smiled a little to herself. "Yellow blonde? Golden blonde? - It's much easier to dress a little boy, I expect."

"Yellow blonde," Missy said with a nod. "It's very pretty. And she has blue eyes and pale skin. She'll look good in any colors! I'm not very good in pink, either," she admitted. "I'm a redhead, too."

"Jeans," she decided. "They go with all colors." But what size?

"Elastic waistbands," Beatrix said promptly. Blue eyes and blonde hair - maybe she looked a little bit like she herself had when she was younger, Bea thought with an unusual shade of regret. "Get the elastic rather than the button-up, and go big - you can always fold up the ends of jeans, and they tend to make them with bright colours on the outside." She'd done that with Jacoba, too, although the folding was massive and she'd had to take a pair of scissors tot he entire thing.

She picked up a bright bib with a picture of a happy snail on it. Wisp struggled a little in her arms, so she set her back in the pram safely with Bunny.

"That's a good idea," Missy said, flushing at her own words. "I must seem a total newbie. I have no idea what I'm doing, but that's pretty obvious." She looked around, catching sight of the bigger boy's clothes. "I can sew to make them smaller," she decided as she headed for them.

"I was much worse."

Her own first forays - alone, functionally colourblind as far as that was concerned, and with a pissed-off baby - Jacoba had not had an easy first time of it. "I suppose it's just about thinking it through," she added comfortingly. "You're lucky to have some sewing skill - I just have to cut the legs off for Jacoba's things."

"Socks!"

Wisp had spotted a selection of the teeny-tiny children's socks; her feet wriggled happily in her wedge sandals. "Well, you must have socks," Beatrix reasoned with a straight face. "Why don't you pick out a pair?"

Wisp clambered - with help from her mother and Thwomp - out to toddle, very unsure of herself, over to the sockery. Her walking was not the best, as she sat down every five steps and had to pull herself up, and found the falling down apparently hilarious. Beatrix peered over at the racks of clothes for slightly older boys with Missy. "Here's some good jeans," she said. "Stretchy." (The composition was a good percentage of nylon to denim.)

"They'll be perfect," Missy agreed, taking them. "And a shirt to go with it. Something color neutral, in case he comes out redheaded," she added thoughtfully.

"Blue or green," Beatrix recommended, her familiar keeping a close eye on Wisp agonizing over socks. The little girl was very carefully picking out a pair in each shade they came in, and was going to result in a pile of lots of socks. "Or were you thinking whites and greys?"

"Well white would get dirty so easily," Missy said, not about to admit she had been thinking exactly that. "And what if it is a girl? Oh, I never thought of that... Should I get some girl clothes too?"

"I just got a whole pile of things that could work both ways." Beatrix let out a sudden chuckle. "It does mean that Jacoba got mistaken for a little boy sometimes. It's nice to be able to dress up a girl," she added, fingering the embroidery on the pinafore she had picked up again. "Jacoba won't wear a skirt for love or money. You can always pick up girl's things later, if you want them."

"Socks," Wisp said helpfully, coming back with an armful of them; she beamed up with such an angelic grin of sweet, cherubic innocence - happiness radiating off her at her successful errand - that Beatrix could hardly fault her for her pile. Without even being able to see her properly and still giving into The Cute, the future boded badly - or well - for Wisp Darnell.

"Oh, mercy, it's socks to Alaska," said her mother, picking her - and the sockpocalypse - up. (Wisp was chanting, "Socks!".) "Well, Jacoba can share - she'll need something over her thighs come winter."

"And so many pretty colors, too!" Missy said, subtly hinting that there would DEFINITELY be mismatched socks in the future. "You're right, boys and girls can wear jeans and t-shirts," she said. "And better too big than too small," she added decisively as she headed for the shirts. "Blue, green, black and white," she decided as she picked out a few almost rashly.

There was no doubt in her mind she'd be sizing them down when the baby got there.

Beatrix set Wisp back down into the pram to triumphantly suck on Mr. Bunny's ear. "Wise choice. - Just make sure you write your last name down on the tags and things when you get home," she advised. "That's all they want, really, if you're sending him to the Daycare Center. Will you? It's saved my life, certainly."

"Oh, definitely," she said. "Even underwear," she added. "I've heard stories from Tyler, after all. Babies do the strangest things."

Thinking of the crib incident that Mr. Cheng and Mr. Luck had told her about and Jacoba performing a He-Man on it, Bea nodded fervently. "You better believe it."

Missy laughed. "It sounds like so much fun! I work for a women's gym, called Curvables, and they're usually so serious that it's sad."

"Well, you have to have a sense of humour about it." Beatrix piled all of the socks on top of the pram in preparation to take them to the check-out. "Never ever take most of what they do seriously. - Have you gone through the dreary process of making the house childsafe?"

"Tyler did it the first day we got the cabbage," she said. "He's very thorough about things like that, you know? It's because he's so good at his job. He could have a much better job, actually, but he says he likes how much time this one gives him to spend with me."

She had also got the feeling that better jobs included risks she didn't want her Tyler taking. EVER. Cleaning up after babies was perfectly acceptable in her mind.

"There's always one outlet you forget," Beatrix said resignedly. "Last week I found Jacoba trying to stick her tongue inside a plug socket. I nearly had a coronary. You're lucky you have Tyler to double-check."

"I'm lucky to have Tyler at all," Missy admitted. "I really admire you, you know? Raising two little girls on your own can't be easy."

Raising Jacoba was, admittedly, difficult; but Wisp was so easy to please - right now she was kicking her legs up in her pram, examining the white hem of her dress and chewing on her bunny all at once - that really, it was more like one and a half girls. The blind woman just smiled again. "Well, I was never the marrying type. I feel like one of those old, unmarried aunts in a movie, you know?"

"There's nothing wrong with staying single," Missy said seriously. "I think I would have, if I had never met Tyler. Mom's been single since Daddy died almost fifteen years ago, as well."

She paused. "I need to go to a jewelry store, too, do you two want to come along?"

"Of course. I think we're just about done here."

Missy smiled. "I want to get a pendant for him," she explained. "Something that he can keep as he grows."

What with Missy being so hopeful and glad and proud to be a mother, it was difficult not to let that enthusiasm rub off on her; usually no enthusiasm rubbed off on Beatrix Darnell whatsoever in any given way, shape or form, but with Melissa it was more difficult. Inevitably and obviously Missy's cabbage baby would complete the family in a perfect, sitcom-friendly way, picture-perfect and complete. A little different from her family, she thought wryly, as she was some sort of screwed-up version of the Parent Trap.

"Lead on," Beatrix said, bordering on cheerful, and life at that moment for Christian/Christina was good.

Beatrix Darnell did not depend on the kindness of strangers, friends, family or otherwise: her middle name was furiously independently stubborn and she loathed feeling beholden to other people. However, when one was a mother, one had to swallow down pride in order to further her children's best interests. In this case.

Jacoba was already in the car, alternately wailing and looking incredibly smug at what she had done: Wisp looked only mildly disturbed at the whole ringamarole, clutching Bunny to her chest and chewing on his ear as Beatrix held her care bag. Her mother took a deep breath, washed away humiliation and pressed the doorbell of the Deakon household without preamble; if they weren't available or couldn't she would have to leave Wisp with Jack and Shade, and rely solely on Antony's common sense to keep her alive.

"Coming!" Missy called before she opened the door. "Bea!" she said, smiling brightly even though there were dark shadows under her eyes. "How are you?"

"In the midst of a mothering emergency," said the other woman ruefully. Her sightlessness and magical circumvention thereof meant she didn't see the warning signs of Missy's tiredness, and Thwomp never noticed, or else she might have thought again. "Melissa, Jacoba just went and ate some Lego and I have to take her to the emergency room. I don't want to give her ipecac in case she chokes on it or something - you couldn't watch Wisp for half an hour, could you? I'll be right back, it probably won't even be thirty minutes. I'm so dreadfully sorry."

"Aunt Missy!" squealed Wisp as she was passed over: she got to spend time with Missy! All worries at the oppressive atmosphere that had been in the taxi over, she put her arms around the redheaded woman's neck and hugged her close.

"You are," Beatrix said sincerely, "an absolute, total lifesaver. I owe you. Here's her bag - it just has some formula and her blanket and some toys, and she's not allergic to anything so don't worry, and there's also some emergency numbers inside there - if you hit a real problem call Jack: he's her godfather. I'll thank you better when I come and pick her up - there's no dratted Lego ever sitting in my house again."

She leant forward to give Wisp a quick kiss on the cheek and gave Melissa a brief squeeze on the shoulder; then she hurried back to the waiting taxi with a quick wave. The small blonde girl looked up at Missy.

"Jacba ate a car!" she said.

"She did?" Missy asked, suitably awed. "Was it a big car?" she added as she turned and headed into the house. There was the sound of hammering from the back room, which showed that something had happened. But Missy headed straight for the room the hammering was coming from. "Tyler? Wisp came over for a visit!"

Tyler glanced up from where he was rebuilding the crib to fit their baby. "Hiya, Wisp," he said with a little smile. "You're just in time to meet Christian."

And there he was, sitting on the floor, his father's wooden baseball bat held in his hands, the head in his mouth like a chewtoy. His tail flicked back and forth behind him as he looked up at the little girl through innocent gold eyes.

Wisp's eyes doubled in size at Christian: just as Missy had been suitably awed at Jacoba devouring a car, she was struck with amazement at seeing Missy and Tyler's son for the first time. She squeaked, but it didn't seem to be out of fear.

"Big baby!" she told them both, in case they hadn't noticed. It wasn't a pet, was it? No, it couldn't be, as she had been told lots of times that Missy was going to have a baby called Christian or Christina and this was Christian. Still, he was definitely the most impressive baby that she had ever seen ever, and she attended daycare and generally saw all sorts of interesting babies. "S'humungus." Then, to Christian: "Hiya hi!"

Christian nodded at her solemnly and took the bat out of his mouth, offering it to her to chew on.

"I think she's got her own binkie, Chris," Tyler said, drilling another hole in the crib. "Why don't you take these two outside, Missy? While I work on the crib?"

"Okay," Missy said, wondering if she could carry them both at the same time. But Christian stood, walking on the balls of his feet and his knuckles towards the door, looking up at her as he started to pass her. "Do you want to go outside, too, Wisp?"

"Uh-huh!" Immediately cheered up, Wisp was impressed all over again by Christian. He was the coolest baby ever! He was what you got if you mixed a baby with... a dump truck! He walked like Tarzan in the Disney film! Obviously he would be the best ever for things like playing Tarzan and piggybacks. "Sunny outside! Sunny is wevver," she told Missy, obviously weather. "I learneded in Daycare inna song. Like rainy... windy. Chris gonna go?"

"He's--" Missy looked over her shoulder, still a little at a loss at her baby. She had been expecting something different, maybe even brown skin, but this--

"He sure is, Wisp," Tyler called from behind them. Obviously he was taking this a lot better than Missy was.

Chris was sitting again, waiting patiently for his mommy to lead the way. "Well then, let's go outside," Missy said, making Chris get up again and head through the house for the back door.

The weather was, indeed, beautiful, perfect weather for Jacoba to have eaten legos in. Wisp was still trying to work out scientifically exactly how Chris got to his enormous size. "Chris eated veggies, Missy," she said eventually, pleased with her theory. Everyone said vegetables made you bigger. Maybe she should cut down on her carrots: if she got THAT big, how would she fit into her dresses?

"Down please," she added. Time to see him close up!

"Okay," Missy said, putting the little girl down on the grass. Chris was watching them curiously, with nothing to chew on since he had left his "binkie" back in his room. Missy smiled at him, a hesitant smile that he returned full heartedly, showing off his tiny fangs.

She would get used to this. She would.

Wisp toddled towards Chris, sitting down with a bump on the grass. Beatrix had put her into a little green smock that morning and she was glad: she loved her green dress, and obviously it was totally suitable for seeing her beloved Missy and her beloved Missy's family.

"You gotted a tail!" she crowed at him. Jacoba was having to go get her stomach pumped and not see Missy's new son. Wisp had all the luck. And look at his teeth! What did he remind her of? "Like a binosaur."

He cocked his head at her, looking at her curiously as he had no clue what a "binosaur" was. He got to his hands and feet again, turning to head for the small playground his father had put up. It was made of plastic.

Playground! Not wanting to be left out, Wisp also hurried over to it. She envied Christian getting a yard and everything: they just lived in an apartment! She ran to the slide and slithered up the ladder to it, immediately flinging herself down off the slippery plastic ramp and leaving herself a hysterically pile in the grass. Chris' house was way more fun than hers!

"Gotta slide at Daycare," she informed him importantly, picking herself up. "Is loooong."

He nodded and started up the rope that hung over the side of the playground, hand over hand easily pulling his bulk into the air and swinging there. He grinned at her, once again showing his fangs.

"Chris--" Missy started out, certain he would fall. Then she stopped herself as he reached the top. The boy was strong!

Wisp too admired this; she sat backwards on the slide and slid down headfirst on her back, admiring his adventurousness, as she could never have done that without falling off immediately. "Cool!" she cried out, without jealousy.

He swung again, then jumped, almost giving Missy a heart attack as he did a sumersault once he hit the ground. For a moment he sat there, looking dazed, then he shook it off and grinned again. His tail flicked happily behind him as he made his way over to Wisp, sitting down in front of her and cocking his head questioningly.

"No, Chris, Wisp can't do that," Missy said quickly. "She's not as strong as you are."

"Awwwww," Wisp wailed in disappointment: it had pretty much been the coolest thing ever, and she was desperate to try it herself and see if she could do it. Her own somersaults - which were laborious hand-on-ground things as she sort of rolled on top of herself - were no longer even as half as impressive. She could only think of one suitable compliment: "Chris is a MOVIE STAR."

At the word "star" his eyes lit up. Then he shook it off, looking down at himself, then at Wisp before bringing one large hand up, palm forward.

He wanted to compare.

Wisp beamed; she showed off her dimples that way, as well as crinkling the tiny navy-blue star underneath her left eye. She held up her hand against his eagerly: Jacoba was always making her do comparisons, and was grumpy every time Wisp had something bigger. (It wasn't Wisp's fault she was taller - Jacoba didn't have any feet!)

His fingers were curved from walking as he did, and her tiny little hand barely covered the palm of his. He looked at this, taking in the differences silently before he lowered his hand.

He was different, even he could see that.

Rather than be depressed or boggled by the enormous contrast, Wisp just fell back and laughed like a drain. Her yellow ponytail bobbed as she giggled before sitting up again. "Huuuuuuge," she commented wisely. She was too young to be really bothered: his largeness and monsterishness was just like how Jacoba didn't have legs, and like how she had a little star on her face. And like how at the big school there was a purple girl and a girl with a bird tail! She had seen them walk by the daycare.

"You's gonna be the biggest at Daycare!" she said, her obvious milestone. "Inna the world!"

He grinned, picking up on her enthusiasm. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

"Who wants cookies?" Missy asked. "If you two play carefully I can go get some!"

"Me!" crowed Wisp. "Me please!

"I'm gonna climb," she added to Chris. "Care-full-y." Then she toddled over to one of the little rope ladders, putting her feet up on every new step as she clambered up it.

He followed her, sitting on his bottom again with his legs bent in front of him as he watched her climb. She was so tiny to him that he wasn't quite sure how to deal with her. He had already broken his crib with just a touch. And on some level of subconscious thought he was certain that if he touched her, she would break just as easily.

It never occured to him that he had already touched her with the comparison game.

Wisp had other ideas. She got to the top of the ladder and teetered on the edge; she was a little scared at how high she had climbed and had she been alone she might have frantically called for Missy to rescue her, but then she realised that there was a lot of Chris and that he was fairly high up. What the smart thing to do, obviously, was fling herself down bodily onto Chris, sort of tumbling off his back while giggling and landing with a soft whump in the grass.

"That's fun!" she announced. Then she prattled on, while climbing back up again: "What kinda cookies is Missy gonna getted? I's like choclit chip."

Chris looked shocked. She had just used him as a slide?? He twisted, looking at his back blankly then looking at the little girl to see if she was broken in some way. How did you use someone's back as a slide??

"I brought sugar cookies and koolaid!" Missy said as she came out the door with the tray. Obviously she had no idea that her son had been used as playground equipment.

Wisp was totally heartless about using Chris as playground equipment; she just beamed, reaching back to curl her hand around one of his fingers and tugging. "KOOL-AID YAY," she said. "Mommy never lets me have kool-aid. Le's go!"

Suddenly Missy was terrified that red dye might not be the best of things to give them. But it was too late, she thought as she put the platter on the short plastic table on the porch. Two little kid chairs were ready to be sat on.

Chris walked over to Missy, hugging onto her leg for a moment as he got over the shock of being abused so. Then he reached for one of the cookies, taking it gently and shoving it into his mouth.

Wisp flung herself bodily into the little-kid chair, wriggling her toes in her sandals as she did so. "Thank-yeeew," she drawled out happily to Missy, and took one of the cookies. This was thoughtfully chomped as Wisp swung her legs over the side of her chair. "Yum!" she proclaimed. "You like 'em?" (This seemed to be to Chris.)

Chris nodded, still leaning against Missy's leg. He didn't even notice that she looked a bit uncomfortable with him there. She smiled before either of them could.

"Who wants koolaid?" she asked, holding out two sippy cups full of the stuff. "Sit at the table, Chris," she added as he reached for his. He nodded, walking over to the table and sitting down a bit awkwardly on the small chair.

It was then that Missy realized she should have made them wash their hands.

It didn't seem to be that traumatising a prospect: neither were covered in mud quite yet. Wisp had a couple of threads of grass in her hair, but nothing else, and she made a happy toddler noise of loud appreciation as she was given the kool-aid. One of her sandals dangled off her foot.

"At home I's haveta eat atta big table," she informed him, pleased. "An' Jacba taked all the cookies fust an' she tooked the elepha one an' I getted mad once."

"Were they animal crackers?" Missy asked, crouching down to put her shoe back on and get the grass out of her hair. She looked at Chris, then brushed the grass off of his back, determined to mother him, no matter what he looked like. "Swallow your first cookie before you eat another one," she told him.

He nodded, swallowing loudly and reaching for another cookie.

"Yes!" Wisp said, pleased that Missy had cottoned on so quickly. "I love aminal crackers, Aun' Missy," she added, and set out to inform her new friend: "Chris they's are lotsa aminals made inna colours. They's so cool."

Chris just nodded, having no idea what they were talking about, swallowed again, loudly, and reached for his juise, eyeing the sippy lid for a long moment before pulling it off and tossing it over his shoulder.

Then he swallowed the koolaid in one gulp and held up the cup, silently asking for more.

"Chris!" Wisp said sternly. "When you's growned-up an' talking like me you's got to say 'thanks' an' 'please' 'cos that's Manners. Is all right, Missy," she informed her 'aunt'. "I'll teach Chris! 'Cause I's his sister, nearly!"

She demurely slurped her kool-aid.

Chris looked at Missy, bringing his tail up to chew on while he wondered if he wouldn't get any now. She sighed and took the cup, heading into the kitchen to trade it for something bigger. Like a bottle.

Chris looked around, then got to his feet, going to where the lid had fallen and picking it up before heading back to the table and putting it on top.

"Good!" his nearly-sister crowed in pleasure, and she patted his hand very gravely as she set down her own kool-aid. "Con-glat-u-rations! Very nice."

He nodded seriously, then picked the lid up with his finger and his thumb on the edges.

The lid cracked and broke in half. His eyes widened and he dropped the lid, looking guilty.

"Here you go, Christian," Missy said, only glancing at the lid. She should have expected that, she thought with an inward sigh.

"Is good trying," his wannabe sister said, and delicately took another cookie as she swung her legs back and forth. The TV always extolled the virtues of trying. As far as she was concerned, Christian was an excellent student! She smoothed out her little green pinafore and all was right with the world for her, even if it wasn't quite for Missy.

"Did you two have fun playing?" Missy asked as she made sure Chris didn't spill his bottle. Chris looked at her, wondering how to tell her that Wisp liked to use peoples' backs as slides. He would have, too, if he talked, that was.

"Uh-huh!" Wisp's happy smile was like a high-beam light on a car that couldn't get turned to dip. "Chris can climb up lotsa places. I'm gonna try," she finished wistfully. "He's real good though." She eagerly drank down the rest of her kool-aid; it was a refreshing change from juice and water. "All done!"

Missy smiled, taking the cup from her. "Do you want any more?" she asked.

Chris was happily chugging down his koolaid. He finished it and let out a loud burp. It sounded almost as if it was two people burping, Missy thought, but she forgot it quickly enough.

"Chris, you should say excuse me when you burp," she told him. Then realized once again he didn't talk yet.

"Or you just pat your mouf like this," Wisp told him, and she patted her mouth politely with her fingertips and smiled wide to Missy: the two of them together could have Christian's education done just fine! "Yes pleez," she added, as kool-aid was precious and there was no telling when she would get to have it again.

Chris copied her movement and Missy had to look away to keep from laughing. That was funny, she couldn't lie. The sight of Chris-- A little giggle escaped her, and Chris cocked his head, moving to see her face.

"No, I'm sorry--" she said, fighting laughter.

So Chris did it again.

And there they were: finally a family.

Not that they hadn't been a family before, but - somehow it seemed right again, Wisp and Jacoba being the same age, both being old enough to talk to intellectually and discover their tastes and wants and thirsts and desires, growing up into actual people, on their way to becoming real and beautiful women. It would have surprised her elder daughter into possible asphyxiating shock that Beatrix very quietly considered Jace her favourite: she loved Wisp and Wisp was easy to love, incredibly easy to love, but Jacoba - who was a little brick full of hard corners - was stubborn and spitfire and struggled, and she was endlessly annoying and frustrating and frankly drove Beatrix absolutely nuts, and being her favourite made absolutely nothing about her easier to raise and she was ignorant and violent and had a terrible nature but there was a potential to her that she was desperate to see through. For one thing, Jace needed her. Wisp needed, well, mostly Wisp. Wisp would save the world without anybody's assistance.

She loved both of her pseudo-daughters more than she thought she could love anything else in the world, loved them like she loved Rebecca and Jack and even Akili, which was a disquieting thought due to the fact that her eldest and Akili had far too much in common. She wanted to see them more than ever, as well - she knew their faces with her fingers and knew that Jacoba was redheaded and boyish and sharp, knew that Wisp was pretty and flaxen-haired and slightly fierce, knew off by heart the lilt of their voices and their laughter (or, more often, the raised voices of both when the first was yelling at the second).

It was probably the first official Darnell Family Meeting. Beatrix knew that it wasn't going to be the last.

"You look like a rainbow puked up on you," said Jace to her sister.

Wisp looked down at herself: she was wearing a tie-dyed off-the-shoulder sweater straight from the 1980s and black leggings, and white sandshoes she had painstakingly painted herself with an unsurprising rainbow motif. Wisp loved rainbows. In a fit of democracy, their mother had let both of them decorate their rooms the way that they had wanted to decorate them, which meant that Jace had painted her room brick red and that Wisp had walls of four different colours (blue, yellow, green, pink). Of course, the cruel trick was that Beatrix was blind and didn't have to put up with it. She was also wearing the world's largest collection of snap bracelets and beads.

"Thanks!"

"It wasn't a compliment," said Jace.

"The Darnell Family Meeting will come to order," their mother stressed. "Chaired by Thwomp and I, who currently have right of reply. All right. Now that both of you are grown up - "

("Yesss! Go me!" said Wisp.

"Oh my god stop punching the air what - ")

" - I would like to put into practice the requests I made up when you were both infants," Beatrix finished, reaching beside her for a sheaf of papers stamped out in Braille. She was wholly unsurprised by her eldest's groan. "Now, you will both be receiving an allowance..."

It was Jace who punched the air this time. "Okay, I change my mind, this is awesome."

"... in return for what has been the Darnell family rule since long before your generation. To cut a long story short: while you are at school, you will each learn a language, a musical instrument and a sport. You may drop these once you leave your place of secondary education, but until then, I will not let you squander any aptitude you may have for the arts, languages or physical education. Do I make myself clear?"

"As transparent red!" said Wisp. "Which is not actually a colour but that is okay."

Her sister, sitting next to her, opened and closed her mouth: the language was totally sucky, the musical instrument lame, but the sport was something she had been waiting for for a very long time. It was M.B. herself who had thus far forbid Jace from learning anything even remotely cool like, say, kung fu, and now by her own admission she totally had to. "Do martial arts count?"

"With regret already in my heart; yes."

"Oh heck yeah - "

" - once we find a suitable teacher. But, yes, they do count; martial arts require discipline and control, something which I think would be absolutely appropriate for you." In the worryingly thick sheaf, two pieces were pulled out and swiftly handed to both her daughters. "Write down your first three preferences - in order of most desired to least - for each heading, and we'll reconvene in ten minutes. Also: who wants what on their grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"Extra cheese," said Jace.

Wisp had already disappeared to retrieve her pen that wrote in three colours. There was a yell from her room that sounded pretty much like "Ham!"

Life had been a lot quieter before they had come into her life, Beatrix reflected, broken into pauses with her research, her publications, her bitter self-recrimination. Motherhood was not something to be sneezed at.