It seems to me a lot of people write 3 and 4 as younger than the rest of the cast even though they're, well, the third and fourth oldest. If you're a member of the 9 forum you may have seen this posted there.

-Nir/Pokemon Eater

The antique shop was only a shop in the loosest sense of the word. It was filled with old things that you might possibly be able to buy, but only if you were persuasive enough. The actual shop part was the lower floor of a Victorian-style two-story house, with a faded hanging sign out front labeled, strangely enough, THE LIBRARY. True there were many books for "sale" but it wasn't a library at all, even less than it was a shop.

Seven didn't knock. The OPEN sign was a constant in the dusty window, alongside a hand-lettered sign. Gone With the Wind 8:00 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. They must've picked up a new film reel. Six would want to know about that. Seven made a mental note to mention it to him.

She wondered if they even bothered to lock the door at night. Not that she suspected any burglar would survive 10 minutes in there. It was so crammed full of lacquered wood balanced at precarious angles that the slightest miscalculation could send it crashing down. Three and Four took messiness to an art form. She was just about to call out for them when her parcel was suddenly snatched from her hands. Delicately snatched, if such a thing was possible.

"This is amazing!" Three declared, tilting the phonograph this way and that. "This is mahogany, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes, it looks like it. AVictrola, perhaps. Does it have a date?" Four reached out, lifting the base carefully in search of an identifying mark. It looked like she'd attempted to paint her fingernails again but had gotten bored halfway though. Her fingers were stained with red polish.

Seven smiled. "Hey, guys…" They turned to look at her simultaneously. Three held the machine against his chest and Four drew her hands back to her body, their pale blue eyes fixed on her.

Four was the first to break the silence. "Sorry, sorry, forgive our rudeness, dear." She gave Seven a quick hug in belated greeting. "But you just don't see these things very often these days. Old music players… How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Seven said. Three had gone back to examining the phonograph already. He'd set it down on an old oak dining table that they typically used for appraisals. The surface was so full of nicks and gouges that it would've been useless to try and sell it. "What about you guys?"

"Oh, you know…" Four waved a hand dismissively, clearly eager to examine the phonograph with her brother. "Same as always." It was a mystery to Seven exactly how the two of them supported themselves. As far as she knew they had no jobs besides running their shop, and on the off chance a customer did come in, the twins would do all they could to prevent a sale. They were simply too attached to the antiques and all the history they carried. Neither of them were married, so there was no other source of income. Maybe they'd inherited a fortune from some rich ancestor. Seven had never thought it that important to ask. They seemed to be happy enough, even with their air of mystery.

"Where did you get this?" Three asked from across the room. "I've found some old records. Let's see…" He placed one on the phonograph's turntable and set the needle upon it. Four scurried over and the two of them stood with their mousy heads bowed over the old machine. They even managed to dress alike, preferring dark-colored turtlenecks though Four was known to indulge in the occasional cheerful granny sweater. Three used his finger to slowly turn the record, producing a tinny, out of tune warble.

Seven waited until Three popped the record off to try a new one before speaking. "My great-grandmother passed away about a week ago. We've just now gotten to cleaning out her house, and I figured you guys would like some of it..."

There was a moment of silence. "She did?" Four was the first to speak again. "That's terrible, dear. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Well, she was old… She went peacefully." Seven said lamely, only to have the twins envelop her in a sudden group hug.

"And we didn't even think to ask!" Three exclaimed. "It's so easy to get caught up, you know, when we have something new. I hope you'll forgive us."

"Of course I will…" Seven awkwardly patted them both on the back. "You didn't know. It's okay…" Three and Four were hardly strangers, but Seven always found it a little odd how openly affectionate they were, despite being twice her age. Eventually they released her, allowing her to breathe again.

Four placed a hand on her shoulder. "If there's anything we could do… Would you like a snack, perhaps? You're welcome to anything in the kitchen. It's the least we could do in exchange for what you've brought us."

The kitchen was by far the most dangerous part of the building. Seven had seen it in the past, and it only served to add to the mystery of how Three and Four had managed to survive as long as they had. She'd known them to leave the gas on or the refrigerator open after being distracted by something else. There was no telling what she'd find this time. "Uh… no thanks. Did you guys clean it up since last time?"

"We've been meaning to, but…" The way Three trailed off didn't give her much hope. Really, it was like she was their mother, having to make sure they didn't burn their house down or let it get invaded by squirrels. Like last time.

Seven sighed. Her fate was sealed. It looked like she was going to be spending another afternoon being a parent to a pair of people old enough to be hers. "Alright, I'll go check it out. You guys just enjoy the phonograph."

"We will, dear, thank you!" Four called after her as she climbed the stairs. Not long after, Seven heard the phonograph start up again, the thin notes slipping though the floorboards like smoke.