A/N: This story is dedicated to Lady-Clark Weasley of Books, from whom I got this idea. If you are looking for some Casson family fan fics, visit her profile. She's written some fabulous stuff.


It was good to be back home. Well, sort of home. We were all at Sarah's and Indigo's for Christmas. And since everyone was there (even David) it felt like home.

Masses of children ran around the house, wearing crowns and playing with the cheap plastic toys from their crackers.

"Only seven of them?" Mum had asked as the children all ran by.

Yes, only seven. Four from Caddy and Michael, two from Indigo and Sarah, and one from Saffron and…oh well, poor Oscar who wasn't really part of the family anymore.

And they were all around the same age; Buttercup being the eldest at eleven and the youngest was Caddy's newest little boy.

"Its so nice to have them all so close," Caddy remarked. "The little darlings," she watched as Marigold (Caddy's) chased Simon (Indy's) and tried to bite him. "Reminds me of when we were younger."

"Yes, does seem familiar," said Dad. "Rose used to bite everyone and everything. Even their names remind me of yours. Seems like all my children think like Eve." (Which I wasn't sure if that was meant to be a compliment)

It was true that a normal family would not name their children the names my siblings had come up with. But I loved their names. Their names were what made them unique, even if some of them were a bit strange.

"Buttercup!" Michael had exclaimed when he found out that his eldest son was really truly going to be called Buttercup.

Caddy had (ineffectively) tried to explain about the phone call and the names and how I didn't know that it was a baby, but I thought it was a hamster instead. So.

His real name was Carlos Michael.

"Then why don't we call him that?" asked Michael.

We tried, all of us, but it just didn't work. He was Buttercup to us now.

"But what about when he starts school?" Michael exasperated. "Poor darling little Buttercup."

So it stuck. And he started school. And he didn't mind. (Not too much anyway)

Caddy and Michael's next little girl was born only a year and a half after Buttercup.

"What shall we call her?" Michael had asked as he held his baby girl, who had a mop of dark hair just like him and Buttercup. "Jane? Mary? Susan?" He said this is a hopeful tone (said Caddy)

Caddy looked thoughtful. "I was thinking something a bit more…exotic."

"But I thought you said we needed some normal names in this family?" Michael said.

"But common names are so dreadful. Even you've complained about having three other Michaels in your class during primary school."

"I suppose…" said Michael, caving a bit. "What are you thinking?"

"Well since we already have one flower, I was thinking we could have whole garden of children. I think the name Orchid is absolutely darling."

Michael thought it over. He complied, as long as the flower names did not extend to any more of his boys. Caddy agreed on that.

A little blonde haired girl climbed into my lap, pulling me away from my memory. This was either Caddy's Marigold or Saffron's Cayenne. It was nearly impossible to tell the two apart.

They had only been born three hours apart, and their due dates had been only a week apart. (Saffron had given birth early, while Caddy had been late) Caddy had kept up with her garden theme, naming her little girl Marigold. Saffron, being the only spice, decided to call her little girl Cayenne. (I think that is where Saffy's marriage really began to go down hill. Oscar was even more opposed to exotic names than Michael)

Surprisingly, it was Saffron who wanted the divorce. She was much too headstrong and independent. After the divorce was official, she packed her bags and hauled her little two year old daughter off to Spain, where she took a job as a translator (All those extra Spanish classes had paid off)

"Like mother, like daughter," Caddy had commented one day when Saffron had been home visiting. (We were all at Mum and Dad's house)

Saffron rolled her eyes. "Not entirely like my mother. I assure you, Cayenne is not Michael's daughter." (Luckily Dad hadn't been around to hear that comment)

"Hola, Tia Rose!" exclaimed the little girl in my lap, which meant she had to be Saffron's.

"I'm having a bit of trouble teaching her English," Saffron admitted. "I try to speak it at home, but the school she goes to is taught entirely in Spanish."

Cayenne began to speak rapid Spanish, none of which I could understand (I had taken French in school and didn't even learn that very well) I tried to nod in the correct places, even though I didn't have the faintest idea to what she was saying. She soon tired of me and jumped off my lap and joined the other children.

Indigo sat across the table from me, holding his sleeping daughter in his lap. Sarah had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl (Scarlet and Simon) The birth had been particularly difficult, so Sarah and Indigo decided that two children were quite enough.

"So, Rosy Pose," Indigo used my familiar nickname. "Are there any boys you fancy in London?"

I blushed. "No. Not in London." That was the truth.

After college, I had moved to London and purchased my own art studio where I sold my paintings and taught juvenile art classes. None of the boys I met in either college or London were my type (But then again, what was my type?)

Though I fancied no boys, it was no secret that they fancied me. In my teenage years, I had fully grown into my body. Though I wasn't tall, (I was the shortest of my sisters) I was a dainty petite with small curves that boys seemed to admire. I was no striking blonde like Caddy or Saffron, but I now styled my dark brown hair and took care to put on makeup most mornings.

"Still fancy Tom, eh?" Indigo raised his eyebrows knowingly.

I blushed again. I didn't want to admit it, but his words were true. I still did fancy Tom.

Tom and I still kept in touch, even after all these years. We sent each other cards at the Holidays, and emailed each other at least one a month. Tom had started a band with some of his friends back in America. He made sure to send me the CD every time they released a new album. He also sent me plenty of pictures from his band. I loved receiving the albums; I would play them as I painted, but the pictures made me get an uncomfortable knot in my stomach. They were always of him and his band, which bothered me because the lead singer in his band was a gorgeous girl with silver blonde hair. I knew Tom and her were much more than friends, though he never told me. I knew by the way she'd be looking at him in the pictures, or by the way casual way she'd hold his hand, or be sitting in his lap. It made me jealous to no end to think of another girl loving my Tom.

The party ended soon enough. The dining room table was a mess. Sarah yawned as she told Indigo to start the dishes. All the children had fallen asleep at various places around the house. Mum was holding Caddy's baby, Charles Darwin ("My favorite biologist," Caddy had said. Michael was just glad to have a child with the normal name of 'Charles') Dad held Cayenne and Marigold, and with them tangled in his lap, it was even harder to tell which one was which. Scarlet was curled up on one of the dining room chairs, Orchid and Simon were on one of the couches, and Buttercup was sprawled out under the table.

We all pitched in to help clean up. After the house was spotless, we made several trips up and down the steps, carrying the sleeping children to their beds.

I was on the pullout couch with Saffron this time. Saffron fell asleep immediately, her loud snores filling the room. I, on the other hand, could not seem to drift off. My mind kept wondering to Tom, somewhere off in America, and I found myself wishing that he missed me as much as I missed him.