It isn't quite in the Big Book of OC's yet, and I think I mentioned a while back, but Dixie is voiced by Yeardly Smith. (Read: Lisa Simpson) I don't know if everyone gets it, but I know that Demon Llama Nerd understands. ;)

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Construction Zone

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For a long time that was thankfully far behind him, 6 hadn't been able to draw anything beyond the terrifying visions he had in his sleep-over and over again. Moments when he had been cheerful enough to draw something pleasant had been few and far between, and his small living space had quickly been wallpapered with pictures of the talisman. Everyone else had found it frightening, and assumed that he must have lost his mind to fear. In fact, that wasn't true; seeing the hundreds of drawings, added to daily, always gave him hope that his reoccurring vision would eventually come to pass.

These days, he still used pictures to try and put his visions into words for his friends; he still wasn't great at articulating his thoughts or feelings, though he was getting better. However, he was an artist freed, and he found the inspiration to draw lovely things nearly every day. He doodled for fun more than for the Voice now, and it made him very happy.

The last real vision he'd had to put on paper had been a little more than a month ago-the night Alpha had been slain. The vision had struck him the moment it had happened, in the very early hours of the morning. 4 had surprised him a few days later by framing the picture and hanging it on their wall, where they could always see it. It was an excellent example of his cryptic but beautiful style; and in its crypticness, it told the story of one of their race's greatest battles. It was all there: the four heroic warriors; the children who had been saved; the Innocent who had been freed; the monster who had been destroyed; and the noble sacrifice Delta had made to secure that victory.

4 had commented that it reminded her of something called the Bayoux Tapestry, a woven masterpiece that also depicted an important battle in human history. 6 couldn't remember what else she had said about the tapestry, but it fascinated him. He hoped he could see it for himself, one day...

Today, he had been inspired by a picture in a book the twins were studying. It was a children's textbook on geology, he thought they had said; but the picture he had seen was of a pleasant seascape, whereon the water cycle was illustrated. 6 had never seen the ocean, but it was another beautiful thing he hoped he would get to see before he died for real. He had no idea what it was really like; but that picture had been so nice, he decided to draw it for himself, exactly as he hoped it would be when he finally got there.

The sun was high above the water in his picture, shining furiously on the waves below. The water took up most of the page, leaving little room for the shore on the very bottom. The sand was going to be a tricky texture; as he added more and more detail to the graceful waves, he was already planning ahead how he would come at it. He was thinking so hard, he didn't notice the presence behind him until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist.

"That's beautiful. I can't wait to see it when it's done."

6 smiled sheepishly, still getting used to people complimenting his work. "We should go, sometime," he suggested.

"It's a long journey," 4 answered with a sigh, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "But you're right. We should go to the beach, sometime."

"It must be nice... The third clan is back."

"Sivan is staying for a while this time. Dad doesn't want her going back, and I don't blame her. She doesn't look good at all. He's making her a new body, you know."

"She'll like that. Her soul is so nice, but her body is bad. It isn't good."

"Hey, 6? Will we ever have kids?"

That question was so startling he nearly smudged his picture. It was kind of uncomfortable to think about. He couldn't answer that right away; he wasn't even sure if that was something he wanted at all.

"Not right now, of course, but... Someday."

"You're not afraid?"

"No, I was just thinking. I hadn't thought about it, but maybe 3 has a point. Maybe we should calm down a bit."

That was admittedly a relief. Carrying on the way they had for the past few months was fun, but something about it always put a bad taste in his mouth later. Having a girlfriend had turned out to be very nice-he had never expected such a thing could happen to a weird little guy like him; but having a girlfriend with so many needs sometimes seemed like more of a bother than it was worth. All he ever really asked of her was to be gentle and understanding, to walk and talk with him about things, and to occasionally snuggle him when he was in a mood. To be a dear friend and companion, basically. What more could a guy want, right? She always demanded so much more from him. Meeting those demands had its charms, but it still made him uncomfortable most of the time.

He decided to pose an awkward question of his own. He turned to look at her.

"Will we ever be married?"

"Um..."

They had spoken briefly of this in the past, but the consensus was that it will a little soon. 6 didn't care-he loved his 4 very much, and wanted badly to be her husband. The sooner, the better, he thought. Apparently, she had other ideas.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"What? No, no, that's not it at all!"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," she insisted, sounding hurt that he would ask such a thing. "It's just, I'm only a kid. And so are you. How do you think that would look?"

"So is Pi. She wasn't afraid."

"That was different."

"Everything is always different," he grumbled. He was getting really tired of people saying that around the library. It was starting to seem like the go-to excuse everyone used to not fix things, even though they claimed to have the power to do so. Hearing 4 toss it around so lightly was disheartening.

"There are still so many things we have to do. Think of all the things we'd have to give up, after a commitment like that."

"It would be the same. Only... Different."

Astonished to have one of her better arguments turned on her, 4 sighed with a rueful smile. But she still looked uncertain.

"Oh, I just don't know..."

"But its yes or no. That's all there is."

"For now, it has to be a no, 6. But it won't always be. I'm sure we'll be married someday, but now just isn't the right time, you know? We'll start making real plans when I'm closer to my next upgrade, and that's only a few years away. But like this? It's not quite right."

"Lots of things aren't quite right, right now."

"Don't be like that. I said we should calm down, didn't I?"

"I want to stop."

"...Altogether? That's a little drastic, don't you think?"

"It isn't right, either."

Deep down inside, he knew she knew. She just didn't like to admit it, because she was enjoying herself too much. She would also have to own that she had been mistaken about something; and with a head full of knowledge, she hated being wrong. He wondered vaguely if part of it was some sort of instinct-she was a Nurterer, after all. She had asked about children as a passing, hopeful thought of the future... But he wondered just how badly she wanted to be a mother. Maybe more than even she was aware of. To all of this, he sighed sadly.

"So, someday. Lots of somedays..."

She took his hands reassuringly in her own.

"All those somedays will be here tomorrow, if we don't think about it like that. The time between then and right now will fly by, trust me. In any case, no matter how far away those somedays really are, we'll always have each other. You're not going away, are you?"

"No, never."

"Neither am I. Whether we're married and have a bunch of kids or not, I'm going to stay right here, and live my life right next to you. So don't worry, okay?"

"I don't worry. I'm not worrying. I'm just sad. I don't like waiting."

"I'm not a fan, either. Hey, why don't we take a walk and talk about something else? There's a lot happening around here to be talked about. And all of it is exciting and good."

6 glanced over his shoulder at his unfinished seascape, but quickly decided that it could wait. He still wasn't sure how he was going to pull off the texture of the sand. Maybe after a nice walk with his beloved, he would have some ideas. So he let 4 take him by the hand and lead him out of the room.

"I'm serious, a lot of stuff happened today. I can't wait to tell you everything!"

He couldn't wait to hear everything. It sounded like the future would come quickly and brightly, just like she said it would.

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5 spent the next several days in and out of the infirmary, sitting with Sivan and hammering out the finer points of her new body. The thought of designing her new body had cheered her completely, in spite of the obvious pain she was in. Already, the details she had dictated were making for a very different shell than the one she had.

Her skin was pale yellow, from the top of her bare head to her ankles, though the blotchy gray mildew stains refused to come out. She had decided that she liked the color combination, though: she wanted gray fabric for her arms and back, instead of being stark yellow from top to toe.

"If the fabrics aren't the same, that wouldn't be so bad," she added. "I think that sounds kind of fun!"

She had also asked for silver metal work, because she decided that gold or brass would look gaudy against the gray and yellow. She knew a lot about color; they supposed it was because her sister was a painter. Luckily for her, silver was the easiest finish to find findings in. There were already stockpiles in the workroom, and several lengths of cloth she could choose from. 5 had found some gray linen that she liked very much, but they didn't seem to have anything yellow. Hunting for some would be an adventure that he was looking forward to. For only having one eye, he had always been good at finding things.

Pi was also making herself busy by helping him with the project in an way she could. She had always hoped she would be able to help him with his work, and he had been looking forward to having her assistance. It hadn't seemed like a good idea, when she had been pregnant; having something to keep her hands busy was very healthy for her now, though. She was smiling, even laughing, and enjoying herself again. That filled him with joy and relief.

It was inconvenient sometimes, however. Hiding the blue prints he had done for her body was hard with her around all the time, and he was determined to make the finished product a surprise. Over all, it wasn't much different from the way she was now. The colors were almost the same, only a little darker; her magenta arms and legs would be a deeper, rosier pink. Her torso would be the same light, creamy tan, only less sun bleached. Her hair would be longer, but he was still hunting for a thick yarn that would suffice. He wondered if Sigma and Epsilon still had some...?

He wasn't looking forward to explaining what had happened to Pi's parents, but they deserved to know; especially Sigma, who had worked so hard to keep their secret. Even if she had chosen to be happy for them, he imagined she must be dissapointed and a little angry with him. He wasn't sure if Gamma and Theta should know yet. Maybe Pi would tell them about it in her own time.

In the meantime, he was happy that she was being so optimistic. With the tragedy behind them and a bright future before them, she had found the courage to ask a few questions she didn't want to ask.

"Do you think it's normal to still feel so tired?" She asked one evening.

"I would imagine," he answered slowly. "Carrying a whole other person is a lot to ask of a body. It appears so suddenly, and then its not there anymore just as suddenly. I don't know... 7 said she experienced a lot of physical and emotional pain both ways. You should ask her about it; I think she can tell you more."

"I guess I didn't really help much with that..."

"Why don't we talk about something else, honey? You mentioned something about buttons earlier, but we didn't get to talk about it much. What did you have in mind?"

"Something along the lines of what 4's got going on," she answered, flirtatiously vague.

"Oooooh, I like the sound of that. Do go on."

"Think we can find mother of pearl? I do love mother of pearl."

"I can arrange that. I don't think we have the buttons here, but I know where I can get some."

"And I absolutely have the figure to rock that look," she added, striking a pose, "don't you think?"

He leaned back against the wall and took a second to visualize it. It made him feel kind of tingly all over.

"I could rock that figure..."

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing."

"I heard that! Stop pretending you don't want this," she teased.

"Oh, but I do," he insisted, pulling her into his arms.

"Fi, you've been so secretive. Come on! Tell me about my body."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Tell me!"

"I can't, that would ruin the surprise."

"What, are you giving me an extra arm or something?"

"Not a bad idea. All the more of you to love."

"Am I taller?"

"Possibly."

"How much taller?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Oh, I hate you."

"Stop pretending you don't want this."

"Shut up, you! ...But it is true, isn't it."

"Hm," he mused, running his hand over her back. He felt his thumb brush a stitched scar just below her shoulder-he had personally mended that one, he remembered. She had too many scars, inside and out, for such a sweet young lady. He couldn't wait to get her into a fresh, whole body.

"I wonder if this is one of those hugs that could turn into something more..."

"Maybe it could," she agreed. "Not too much more, mind you."

"I would never ask that much. I know what that means to you."

"It was just too easy, that night. It happened so suddenly; it can happen just as suddenly next time. If I lost another child... Oh, Fi, that would kill me."

"I'm not going to let that happen again. Next time, we'll have insurance."

The next afternoon, after his turn on watch (where he would work on Pi's blueprints without being hovered over) 5 returned to the workroom to continue making good on his promise. The room was unusually empty and quiet... Except that he spotted a pair tiny feet under to workbench. He got on his knees to invetigate, and found the rest of his niece.

"Dixie, what are you doing under there?"

"Go 'way!" She said. "I a-hidin'."

"Hiding? From what?"

"Mommy daddy say I takin' bath. I am no takin' bath! I a-hidin'."

"Now, now, you shouldn't be hiding from your mommy and daddy who love you so much," he answered, amused. "You should go take a bath."

"Dadd say I a-filthy. Mean daddy..."

"Well, you are pretty filthy," he pointed out. It looked like she had been playing in the mud near their garden; it was hard to tell which parts of her legs were burlap and which were mud.

"I a-no filthy!" She insisted. "I a precious girl."

"I know. You've been told so from the day since you were born," he agreed with a smile. "Amazingly, it is possibly to be precious and filthy at the same time. Come on, sweetie, lets go get you in that bath and get you un-filthy. Then you can go back to just being precious again, okay?"

"Nuh-uh," she said, shaking her head and backing away. "I am not likin' a bath. I just be filthy."

Well, she wasn't coming out on her own. But 5 had an idea to coax her out. He stood up and looked through the papers on the table until he found her blueprints, and knelt again.

"Hey, Dixie, want to see something neat?" He asked, waving the paper for her to see.

"Ooh, I a-see," she squealed, toddling closer. But he backed up a little.

"Come on out of there and I'll show you. But only if you'll come with me so you can take a bath."

Dixie hesitated, trying to decide whether it was worth it or not. Her curiosity quickly won out, and she cautiously shuffled into plain sight. 5 scooped her into his lap and held up the paper.

"Do you know who that is?"

She regarded the drawing for a moment with a look of deep concentration, but finally shrugged. "I dunno. Who dis?"

"That's you, sweetie."

"What?" She squeaked, astounded. "I me!"

"Yes, you are, but this is what you're going to be, in another month or two. We've told you about your big girl body, you know?"

"Ooh, I a-be a big girl," she agreed excitedly, clapping her hands.

"Yeah, and this is it. Your daddy drew this, and he's making it right now, just for you. He can't be such a mean daddy to do something like that for you, now can he?"

"Oh. He la-me, he gimme life."

"He sure did. So what do you say? Will you please go take a bath now?"

"Oh, okay," she answered, sounding like she didn't mind so much anymore. Leaving the blueprint on the table where he had found it, he carried her out of the workroom. As he walked, she rested her head on his shoulder and let her short, muddy legs swing freely. She stuffed her fingers into her mouth, and began humming random notes in time to his pace.

"What's that you're singing?"

"Oh, I a-makin' up a lil' song, like mommy," she answered. "I like a-mommy singin'. She a pretty mommy."

"And you're a pretty baby."

"Yeah. I a sweet baby."

She was so easy to engage. And engaging her was fun because she always had an answer, and an adorable way of answering. She was excellent at carrying on a conversation. And he noticed that she had an amazing sense of rhythm; she continued humming random notes, in nearly perfect beat to his step. As an experiment, he occasionally quickened or slowed his pace, and she adjusted the tempo of her humming each time. They made a game of it, and she sometimes stopped humming for a second or two to giggle happily.

After searching for about 15 minutes, he finally spotted his brother walking out of the globe, looking upset and worried.

"A baby is a terrible thing to lose," he greeted. 9 looked up, and the worry was replaced with relief and no small amount of exasperation.

"A baby is an easy thing to lose, apparently," he answered, hurrying to collect his daughter. "Where on earth have you been, young lady? We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I a-hidin'," she chirped proudly, always happy to have outsmarted her clever father.

"She picked a good hiding place this time," 5 commented. "I found her in the workroom, under the table."

"Oh, haven't I told you that you can't go in there, baby? It's dangerous in there for you."

"But I a big girl," she insisted. "You am not find me!" She cheered.

"Hm." 9 was obviously not impressed.

"But I am see a-big girl body, and I am takin' bath now."

"You're coming quietly this time? That's a pleasant surprise."

"Oh no, I a-no quietly. A-still singin'." With that, she let her head flop onto his shoulder and resumed her humming. Without a beat to hum to, the rhythm was suddenly as random as the notes.

"She's always singing," 9 commented with a smile. "I love that she loves to sing."

"Well, she's always being sung to. Her rhythm is amazing."

"And gets better all the time, just like her vocabulary. Thanks for finding her. I'm sure you can see, she really needs that bath."

"Ain't that the truth," 5 agreed, brushing some dried mud off his chest. "Enjoy your bath, kid," he said, patting the top of her head.

"Aw, you goin', Fi? You stay with me! We a-sing s'more."

"No, I've got some work to do. Why don't you try playing our game with your daddy?"

"Oh yeah! I a-play with my daddy!" She agreed. "Daddy, you a-walkin', and I a-singin', and you go fast a-slow, and I a-singin'. Daddy, walkin' now!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going,"he answered, and turned to take her to her waiting bath. "Thanks again, 5, I owe you one."

"Bye-bye, Fi!" Dixie called over his shoulder. "We a-play 'gain!"

"We sure will," he called back. He waved to her until they had turned a corner and vanished before he headed back to the workroom himself.

I can't wait to have kids. I think I'd make a good dad. And Dixie sure makes for good practice.

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It had been one of those days that taking Dixie outside had seemed like a lovely idea. However, it had rained in the night and the courtyard was now peppered with mud puddles that refused to dry up in the humidity. All that 7 had planned to do was look over her flourishing garden, pull a few weeds, and get back inside because it was so darned hot. She had also thought it would be nice for Dixie to get outside and run around.

All of that had turned out to be a mistake. Dixie had immediately scouted out the stickiest possible mud puddle and hopped right in, splashing mud everywhere-including all over her mother. If 7 hadn't stopped her right away, they would have both been much dirtier than they were. Dixie was now covered in mud up to her waist. The puddle had only come up to 7's ankles, but it was also splattered on her arms and face, and her chest and hip were smeared with it from carrying her baby inside.

That was bad enough. As it dried, it kept flaking off in chunks, and now it was all over their bedroom. Dixie had been absolutely thrilled over the phenomenon. 7 had been very peeved. Aside from needing baths themselves, she would have to wash the bedspread and scrub the floor. And the walls. And the side of the crib. And anything else Dixie managed to get close to until she was bathed.

She had bumped into 9 when they came inside, but he hadn't been very helpful because he had been in the middle of something. Seeing them such a mess made him laugh a little, but she failed to see how it was funny.

"Boy, are you filthy, precious girl," he had said, patting their daughter on the head. "You're going to need a bath, aren't you?"

Dixie had pushed him away, insulted that he would call her filthy, or dare to hint at a dreaded bath. 7 had also pushed him away and stormed off in a huff, unimpressed.

She thought she had left Dixie asleep on the bed, with the door shut tight while she went to draw bath water. When she returned, the door was wide open and all that remained of Dixie was the spot of mud on the quilt where she was supposed to have been. 7 had no idea how she had been able to get out-she couldn't reach the doorknob, let alone turn it. Flabbergasted yet again with her child, she had set off to enlist her husband in a search and rescue effort.

Whoever opened that door is so in for it... She kept thinking to herself.

When Dixie finally turned up again, the mud on her legs was completely dry and a lot of it had already flaked off. She was optimistic that maybe it meant she didn't need a bath anymore, but niether of her parents were convinced. 7 wouldn't have cared in any case. She intended to bath her baby as vengefully as was possible. Maybe it was wiser to let 9 take care of that, if he was enjoying himself so much. She couldn't stand how cheerful and patient he was being. Seeing how upset she was, he suggested that she bathe first.

"You'll feel more like your wonderful self when you're clean."

"Hm."

"And I'll clean up our room for you. I promise, there won't be a speck of dirt left when I'm done."

Oh, just when she was most enjoying being mad at him, he always managed to say the one thoughtful thing that could still her temper. He was extremely reliable like that. She had hoped right into the wash tub and began to scrub her skin clean with the broken off end of a toothbrush. The mud was too fresh to have stained her pale skin, and it came right out. Given all the things that had gone wrong today, it certainly did lift her spirits.

Looking over at her 9 and her Dixie, playing pat-a-cake to pass the time until her turn, she finally found them amusing.

"You may need a bath, yourself," she commented. "I guess we're all due for one, anyway."

"Is the water okay for her, or do I need to get some more?" He asked, determined to be helpful now. "It won't be so good to scrub all this mud out with more mud."

"I like a-mud," Dixie insisted. "Mud, mud, muddy-mud-mud," she sang happily.

"We like the mud when its outside, but not when it's on you," her daddy said gently. "I almost can't see how precious you are under all this gunk. We've got to get it off you."

Dixie pouted, unable to refuse that. When her turn finally came and 9 dunked her feet into the murky water, she immediately began to kick and splash as hard as she could. In seconds, his arms were soaked to his elbows.

"I might not need that bath, after all," he commented, submerging her as quickly as he could. That was also a mistake, because now she could splash with her arms as well as her legs. The water splashed up over the side of the tub and all over his knees.

"Dixie, stop that. No, stop! Stop! Dixie, you stop splashing right now!"

Apparently, it was just another game to her. She went on splashing, and it seemed like she was making an effort to get as much water on her father as she could. She also wouldn't stop cackling triumphantly.

"Look, daddy, you all yet like me a-mommy!"

"Yeah, I can see that," he agreed dryly, shaking his drenched arms.

Satisfied that she had finally peeved both her parents, and managed to do everything she had been specifically told not to do in one day, she calmed her splashing. Instead, she patted her hands against the top of the water, making tiny explosions that didn't go much further than her own face.

"I don't understand," he commented, shaking his head. "You love taking baths. You cry when we take you out."

"Oh no, daddy, I no crying'. I like a bath. I a-splashin'!"

He pulled her up to sit her on the edge of the tub, so he could scrub her legs, and she became distressed.

"My bath over? No! I a-splashin' more!"

"I'm just going to get this mud off you."

"So I be just precious?"

"That's right, baby."

"Oh, I be precious. Okay."

Ever since she had been able to speak clearly, she had taken her title of "precious girl" very seriously. She constantly defended it with everything she had. And well she should-before he had even addressed her by name, precious was the first thing 9 had ever called her, and he reaffirmed that every single day without fail. 7 had a feeling there would be a lot of fist fights over it in the future. Woe to whoever dared to challenge that staus...

A while later-after a good cry about her bath being over-the three of them went walking through the library, all soaking yet and looking for a nice sunny spot to dry off. Dixie walked in the middle, her parents on either side of her holding her hands. Every now and again, they lifted her up to swing her over something in their way. She laughed and laughed whenever they did, overjoyed by the feeling of being suspended weightless in the air, supported by the two people in the world she could trust the most.

"I a-go flyin'," she cheered. "I a bird!"

"Now I know she gets that from me," 7 commented. "There's nothing quite like the feeling of flight. I wonder if she'll use it like I do?"

"I have a feeling she's meant for other things, but lots of them. Whatever she chooses to do with herself, I think she'll excel at it."

"Maybe something with music? She does have a natural talent for it. I know that music doesn't seem like much to some people, but it does have its place. There were many days where it was the only thing that have me the hope or joy to keep going."

"That seems to be a large part of who she is. Maybe when she's bigger, we should talk to Pi's sisters about music lessons. It's what Gamma does, after all; and Theta has a beautiful voice, herself."

"It must be wonderful to create music like they do."

"Between Gamma being a Creator and Theta being a Scholar, I think they could recreate the knowledge of music that the humans had developed. It took them all their history, and they hadn't run out of things to create or discover about it. But they always knew how to enjoy it. If it hadn't been important, I don't think they would have cared so much. I don't think it would have been important to us, either."

That was a lot for one Warrior to ponder at once. 7 spent the remainder of their walk in silence, thinking it all over. It suddenly seemed like the world had lost the need for her natural temper and wily battle skills. The world was safe now. What it really needed was healing and reconstruction, at the hands of the other, more cerebral classes of the clans. It needed Scholars to find its hidden knowledge; Creators to rebuild; Nurturers to raise the next generations; Prophets to give comfort and hope; and Elders and Bearers to lead them into the future. But it seemed like the talent she had to offer was useless now.

I wish I had been a Creator...

They finally stopped in a bright patch of sunlight streaming through a hole in the roof. The sun was directly overhead now, the brightest and hottest part of the day. It was a good place to dry off. They released Dixie to run around in the light, and then sat down together to watch her.

"Sometimes I wish I was anything but a Warrior," she commented, fiddling idly with her wedding ring. "It seems to pointless now. I wish I could create things like the rest of you do."

"We all have the power to create things, in our own ways," 9 insisted gently. "Just because its not your personal talent doesn't mean you're not allowed to try something new, if you really want to."

"I've never created anything in my life."

"Of course you have. You created her," he pointed out, gazing across the space to where Dixie was running around like a bolt of fire. "I created what you can see, and that's also impressive. But what I have to give her is transient. It's about to change, and it will go on changing for the rest of her young life. But you created what really matters. You built her soul. And that's going to last for the rest of her life."

Overwhelmingly uplifted, she grinned. "We created that together. I suppose that's what really matters."

"That's the spirit," he agreed, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You're her mother. You made her, and you'll keep on making her until she's grown. No man has the power to create something as powerful as that."

"Most of our creators were men."

"Our life is borrowed from them. They put their own souls into us, but they didn't make those souls with their own hands. Our children have souls of their very own, completely different from any other soul that has ever existed. I think my favorite part of that is that only a woman can do that. A woman like you."

She put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you. You know that I love you, right?"

"You say so every day. And I love you right back."

She leaned forward and have him a quick, thankful kiss. But she had bare,y pulled away before Dixie threw herself into her mother's lap in a fit of giggles.

"Mommy, you kissin' me now," she said, looking up at her the sparkling, expectant eyes.

"Of course," she agreed, hugging her and kissing the top of her head. Dixie snuggled against her and sighed happily.

"Mommy daddy la-me, an' I la-mommy daddy," she said quietly, sounding a little sleepy.

"I think it might officially be nap time," 7 decided. "If you had just stayed put and slept while I made your bath instead of wandering off, you wouldn't be so tired now."

Dixie answered with an unapologetic yawn and rubbed her eyes. "Mommy, I nurse, pease?"

"Please," 7 enunciated, putting emphasis on the L. "Can you say please?"

Dixie pursed her lips, mustering all her concentration. "Pa... Pa... Pa-leeeeese. Please!"

"Very good, baby! Of course you can nurse, when we get back to our room."

"Yay! I a-say please," she cheered, hugging her mother again. "My mommy."

As they walked back to their room, 9 began making a mental list of everything he would need to clean the place. He already knew he'd have to take the quilt and wash it before they put Dixie down for her nap, and of course planned to do that first of all. The baby was already falling asleep in her mother's shoulder, humming her own self to sleep. Nap time would be easy, today.

But all that was shattered in an instant, as the alarm bell sounded above them. Dixie bolted upright, wide awake and startled to be so.

"Oh, who could it be now?" 9 wondered impatiently. He would have to go and see about it, putting his promise to clean the room on hold.

"You go ahead and deal with it," 7 insisted. "I still have to nurse her, before I put her down. There's plenty of time."

"Thanks. I'll be back soon," he agreed, heading off in the opposite direction.

"No, my daddy!" Dixie called after him. "You stay with me!"

"Don't worry, my baby, I'll come right back. Daddy's just got to take care of this one thing, alright?"

"But my daddy," she whined, perhaps knowing she wouldn't win this argument.

"I'll come right back, I promise," he said again, kissing her goodbye, and then turning and walking off without another word. That discussion was closed.

"Don't worry, your daddy always makes good on his word," 7 told her as she went on whimpering sadly. "He'll be back."

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9 was the first to reach the entrance, where he found another member of the Third clan waiting just inside. This time it was Av, their own Ceator, and Sivan's beloved sister. She had warned them that her best friend might come to see her, and even fight to stay by her side until she could go home. Therefore, 9 wasn't entirely surprised or begrudged to see her.

"I had a feeling you'd be along," he greeted with a smile.

"I came as soon as I could," Av insisted. "I grabbed a few things for the trip and came right here."

"It's pretty hot out these days," he pointed out, putting his arm around her and leading her inside. "How was the walk."

"Not so bad. Adar told me the way here, and I went exactly the way he told me to. Anyway, I set out this morning, when it was cooler. I guess I overestimated the weather a little bit. It was suddenly sweltering out there!"

"Let's get you to the infirmary to see your sister, then. It's nice and cool in there. And I'll set you up a bed for your stay."

"You'd let me?"

"I'd have done the same for my brothers and sister. We're happy to have you."

Av sighed gratefully. "Thank goodness. I spent half the trip coming up with arguments. You're sure I don't need to use any of them?"

"Absolutely not. For now, lets just get you out of the sun, huh?"

Two is company, and three is a crowd, but 13 is a party. It's a good thing we have a big home.