Godzilla183 asked me to write a story about Mark/Jessica from Cheaper By The Dozen, so here's the first chapter!

This chapter is told from Jessica's perspective.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: INCEST

Two has always been our number. It's the number of kids we want to have (whether by adoption or surrogate since there's a risk of disabilities and deformities if we have them like most people have their children). It's the number of kisses we share before going to bed in our separate rooms since our parents won't allow us to share one (we're not bitter about it. It's the rule for every kid when they bring home a boyfriend or girlfriend, so even though we live under the same roof, we are no exception). Two symbolizes the two of us: our two hands interlocked, two pairs of lips pressed delicately together, two pairs of eyes meeting with gazes filled with happiness and love.

Only one thing is not represented by the number two. The day we fell in love, our two hearts became one.

Our mother, Kate Baker, and our father, Tom Baker, had our oldest sibling, Nora, when Mom was twenty-two. Our brother Charlie and sister Lorraine followed, and after that, our parents quit their jobs in the big city and moved to the country, where our father found a small coaching job and our mother became a stay at home mom.

Shortly after that, our mother gave birth to Henry, Sarah, Jake, and Mark within four consecutive years. My parents originally only wanted eight kids, but during the fourth pregnancy, they skipped the number eight when they had their first set of twins, me and my sister, Kim.

My younger brother, Mike, was apparently the result of a drunken night, and identical twins Kyle and Nigel were total accidents (despite their birth not being planned, they're still loved just as much as the rest of us. Our parents love all of us equally. Don't forget that. My own family and the readers will find that very important later on) after my father got an operation to make sure Mom and him wouldn't have anymore kids but forgot that it would take three weeks for the operation to become effective.

That was how my parents wound up with twelve kids, but while this story will be shared with my parents and siblings, the main focus of the story is on my brother and myself.

On my seventh birthday, Mark and I kissed for the first time.

I know what some of you are thinking: you two are related! That's disgusting! Freaks! Abominations! Just plain wrong! Save your breath. We've heard it all before, but Mark and I never cared about what other people thought. We were the perfect two. We never needed other people's approval.

Our family accepted us in a heartbeat. Our parents knew what true love felt like, and as long as we found it, they didn't care who we fall in love with. Mark and I belonged together, and our family wanted us to be happy. As long as we were happy, they didn't care that Mark and I were siblings.

Despite Nora having accepted us, her boyfriend Hank was disgusted by our relationship and spat at us and insulted us and pushed us around when Nora wasn't looking. That's why all of our other siblings hate him; they'd seen how he treats us, and they treat him like he treated Mark and myself after discovering we were brother and sister and were in a romantic relationship.

That's our background story, but our true story, where it really gets interesting, begins one chaotic morning, not unlike any other. Or so we thought…

"Jessica?" Mark asked as he appeared in my doorway. "Have you seen Beans?"

Beans was Mark's frog. While my siblings, myself included, all wanted a dog as a pet (and we eventually got a dog right before Kyle and Nigel were born), Mark was always different than the rest of us, which wasn't a bad thing. Wanting a pet frog instead of a dog was just one of the things that made him different.

I didn't mind Mark being different, although the others sometimes teased him about it. The things that made Mark different were what made me fall in love with him. Who wants someone that fits in, anyway? Mark stood out, and he made me want to stand out. That's why I fell in love with him (I don't know when. Until Mark and I kissed, I had no idea I loved him that way, and Mark hadn't known about his own feelings either. The kiss had just felt… right).

"No, but I can help you look," I offered, checking the time on my alarm clock as I pulled back my long red hair. "It's almost time for breakfast anyway."

Mark and I wandered around the house with a net in search of the frog Mark had named Beans. I hadn't liked the frogs (there used to be two, but the older one had passed away a few months ago) when Mark first received them as a birthday present, but I'd grown fond of Beans as time passed. I don't think Beans liked me much either at first, but now, he would sit on my shoulder, in the palm of my hand, or (for some odd reason Mark and I can't seem to figure out) on top of my head without hesitation.

"Hi!" I chirped as I stepped into the chaotic, crowded kitchen. "Has anyone seen Beans?"

A chorus of nos rang out as people shook their heads while continuing the lunch and breakfast train; it's where all the kids line up to pack lunches and make breakfast as quickly as possible. Right now, they were working on making toast.

"Sarah, your suspension for excessive force in lacrosse has been lifted. You're going today," Mom stated, much to Sarah's excitement, as she began packing sandwiches into lunch boxes. "Henry, I cleaned your clarinet. Please do not play it with food in your mouth again." Her tone, while patient, bordered on pleading.

"Kim," she added, surprising everyone since Kim rarely got called out unless she had some kind of doctor's appointment that day, "your teacher called and asked you to please stop correcting her in front of the class," Mom finished as we all nodded, knowing that correcting the teacher was something Kim would constantly do. She was far from a girl with a know-it-all attitude, but she was incredibly intelligent. The only reason she hadn't skipped any grades was because our parents feared her social skills would suffer if she wasn't around kids her own age (kids outside of the family, I mean).

"Nigel, Kyle, you have a dentist appointment today, so you're going to work with Dad," Mom announced, and the twins cheered in excitement as they pretended to wrestle with Dad.

The family was sitting down to breakfast while Mark and I continued to search for Beans.

"Mark," I whispered before pointing up, and Mark followed my gaze to see his pet frog sitting on top of the chandelier hanging above the table.

"Nobody make any sudden moves," I murmured, and they all followed my gaze to the chandelier as Mark raised the net and slowly inched it towards Beans.

"Mark, no-" Dad began, and that was when all heck broke loose.

Beans jumped from the chandelier and into the pot of eggs on the table, splashing everyone with scrambled eggs; the frog leaped across the table, knocking over drinks and splattering food everywhere before he landed on the counter.

Dad slowly stood and grabbed the net, starting towards the frog, but he slipped on some jam and fell on his back with a groan. Dad hopped back onto his feet and captured the frog (after Beans made even more of a mess) before slowly handing the net to Mark.

"Put Beans back in his cage now," Dad ordered.

"He doesn't live in a cage, Dad," I corrected. "He lives in a tank."

"You're starting to sound like Kim," Sarah commented as Mark turned and broke everything on a nearby shelf with the stick the net was connected to.

"Is everything broken?" Mom squeaked, clenching her eyes shut.

No one had the heart to reply.

"Nice going, Fed Ex," Sarah muttered.

Fed Ex? I thought in confusion. Klutz, I expected. What did Fed Ex mean?

I kissed Mark on the cheek and whispered, "It's okay. Let's go upstairs. I'll help you with Beans."

"Why did Sarah call you Fed Ex?" I questioned as Mark and I exited the house and grabbed our bikes to head to school.

Mark shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It upset you," I pointed out. "So it does matter."

"Jessica-"

"Mark," I stated, sternly.

Mark sighed. "The others sometimes say… the Fed Ex guy dropped me off because I don't fit in with this family."

By now, we were a good distance away from the house, and I dropped my bike to the ground with a clatter.

"They what?" I demanded.

"Jessica, don't-" he tried, but I was already stomping towards our siblings, who were a little bit ahead of us.

"Jessica!" he begged, grabbing my wrist, but when I was angry, I turned into Wonder Woman, so I just wound up dragging him across the dirt as I stormed up to Sarah, knowing she had probably started the cruel nickname.

"Sarah Baker," I snarled.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"And why are you on the ground, Fed Ex?" Henry inquired.

"Stop calling him that," I ordered. "That is a cruel nickname, and you all know it."

That was when it dawned on them why I was so angry. I was very protective of my boyfriend, and they all knew it. They'd made a huge mistake teasing/bullying Mark like that. Mark was already insecure about being different from everyone else in this family, not that he had any reason to be, and they were only making it worse by pointing out his flaws.

"If I hear any of you call Mark Fed Ex again, I'll see to it that you regret ever opening your mouth. Am I understood?" I whispered in a dangerously quiet voice.

They nodded.

"Good," I replied before heading back to where Mark and I had left our bikes.

Mark shrugged as he looked at his slightly terrified siblings. "I tried to stop her," he promised before chasing after me.

The minute Dad walked in the door, we all knew something was up.

Dad raced down the steps into the basement, dragging Mom with him, and we heard him turn on the washer, so that the rumbling sound would likely prevent us from eavesdropping.

Using a system we'd created shortly after Dad starting using the washer to prevent us from eavesdropping, my siblings and I held onto a rope and lowered Mike by his ankles down the laundry shoot, so he could hear.

Several minutes passed until Mike tugged on the rope, and we pulled him back up.

"We're gonna move!" he shouted, and in our shock, we dropped him right back down the laundry shoot. Luckily, Mike had a thick skull, or he surely would've sustained a concussion from that fall.

But we had more pressing issues. Moving? But Midland was our home. Sure, Mark and I were bullied here, but it was still our home, always had been.

"Guys," I said, nervously. "What are we going to do?"

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