Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

A/N: Not sure about this one. I know I always say that, but it's true! Let me know, if you have a chance. Many thanks to all of you who've read and reviewed, if I haven't said so before. Your support and interest keeps me going, and cheers me after a long, cold day. You're super!

The first time Suzy and I watched cartoons together, it was an accident. By the time she was six or so, Dad split his time between political consulting and teaching, and Mom taught as well. Since years of being major power players in the political scene made their sleep habits irregular, to say the least, it became an unspoken rule in our house that nobody had to be doing anything constructive on the weekends until 11 or so. Translated, this meant: Don't bother Mom and Dad unless there's a life-threatening emergency.

So. My mother would keep a cup of milk and the cereal where Suzy could safely reach it, and she could then happily munch and watch cartoons till Mom eventually came down and made her stop.

This one particular morning, however, the cereal ended up on the top shelf; Dad probably snuck some of Suzy's Cocoa Puffs and forgot about her Saturday ritual. Anyway, for some reason that I can't remember, I was up, and actually wandering around at 7:00 or so, when I came upon my baby sister standing on her tiptoes on a chair, vainly trying to reach her cereal. Needless to say, she gave me heart palpitations for a minute, and I got the cereal for her myself. I settled her in front of the TV and ruffled her hair. And then she asked: "JJ, will you watch with me?"

Now, as a self-respecting high school student, I fully intended on going back to bed and remaining there until someone woke me up. I turned, denial on my lips, until I saw her face. Her blue eyes, seeming somehow even bigger with the pleading look in them, slowed exactly how much she wanted me to stay. With parental tension, and school, and generally being a sixteen year-old, I didn't spend a great deal of time with my sister, one on one. She still had me wrapped around her finger, but… So that morning I just couldn't say no. I smiled, and went and got the Fruity Pebbles. When I came back, she was beaming, and flung herself against me. It felt…nice. And so it became tradition.

"Hey, Tulip."

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up."

I grin at her. "Now, now, none of that."

"I realize other women rate higher on your list of priorities at the moment, but is that really a good reason to stand a girl up?"

She's teasing, but I think there's some genuine hurt there, too. With all the stuff that's been going on in my life lately, over the last few years, I haven't kept in touch as well as I should have. I cover her hand with mine. "You know I love you the 'absolutely mostest,' don't you?" I query, quoting her childhood phrase.

She smiles. "Yeah."

"Look, sweetie, I got… messed up, for a long time, and I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire. But I think I've finally got the important things figured out, so…"

Suddenly, she cuts me off, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Hey, can I call you Casanova?"

"No."

"I'll do it anyway."

"Of course."

"That was a good move last night, bro. You looked like a complete idiot, but it was a good move."

"Thanks, I think."

"I'm glad for you."

"Thank you, honey." I grab her hand and just hold it for a second. "So. What's new in you life, hot stuff?"

She rolls her eyes. "Nothing, really. School, soccer, more school, babysitting, a chance to model…"

I choke on a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles. "I beg your pardon?"

She sighs. "Exactly. That's what I've been getting from everyone."

"So how exactly did this happen?"

"Jessie's aunt works in New York for an agency. She was visiting one weekend when I stayed over and suggested it. I thought she was kidding, but right before I left she gave me her card. So I sent some pictures, on a whim, and it turns out they'd like me to try it."

"So you'd what, live there?"

"Yeah."

"Jeez, Suze. All the time I spent trying to get out of here and you're gonna be the one who actually does it." I look at her in admiration, and then I just plain look at her. Sometimes I forget just how stunning my little sister really is. It's rather unnerving; I used to pick her up from kindergarten, after all. As I've mentioned, her eyes are impossibly large and blue; cropped hair that always reminded me of the color of pale sweet corn makes them seem even larger. Dad could never refuse her anything, and now all she has to do to get her way is blink at him; I heard him grousing about it yesterday. Her features are delicate, but with Dad's determined chin, and she's as tall as I am.

With all that, and coming from Lyman stock as she does, you might expect her ego to be through the roof. Nope. She's extremely quiet and shy, except with close family and friends. Unlike the rest of us, she barely ever loses her temper. She's got one hell of a stubborn streak, though, and when she's on a mission you don't want to get in her way. But…

"Suze, are you sure? You're the one who can't bear to perform in violin recitals," I rib her gently.

She laughs. "I know, I know. It's just, sometimes it feels like I'm trapped here. Everyone expects me to be a certain way, and I'm not sure if I really am that way, deep down. If I stay I'll never find out. You understand?"

"Who do you think you're asking?" I grin. "What did Dad say?"

"Oh, God," she groans. "First he stared at me as though I'd grown a second head, mouth open like a fish. Then came 'No, absolutely not,' et cetera, et cetera, yadda yadda yadda. Then it was just generalized raving. Then Mom took over."

"Mom?" I'm a bit surprised. Of course she'd be worried, and have questions, but she usually gives us the courtesy of at least hearing us out first.

"Yup. You know, she went off on her 'objectification of women' thing. She didn't exactly say no, but I could tell she was disappointed in me for thinking about it."

"Why are you thinking about it then, Suze? I know you well enough to know it isn't the glamour."

"To see things. Be independent. Earn money for college."

"You know you don't need to…"

"I want to!" she bursts out. "I want to go to med school, JJ. I don't want to have to worry about massive loans or skimming for tests because I'm working constantly in between classes. This will help, at least. I don't want to live off of Mom and Dad, either."

"They don't mind…"

"But I do!"

See what I mean? Stubborn.

"So what do you think?"

"If it's what you really want, then go for it, sweetie. Just make sure."

"So, you're not going to go mental thinking of some adolescent prick jacking off while looking at a picture of me in my underwear?" she asks with yet another devilish gleam in her eye.

Suddenly I feel a little sick. "SUZY!"

"Yes?" She questions sweetly.

"Don't…do that to me." Wow, I sound kind of strangled.

"I'm just quoting Dad." At my raised eyebrow, she elaborates. "No, he didn't say that to me. Of course he didn't. I heard him and Mom talking after they thought I had gone to bed. He was kind of…worked up, I guess."

Yeah, now that I think about it, it does sound like something Dad would say. "Don't worry about it, Suze. It's just Dad's way of…coping."

"So you'll back me up?" Her eyes are pleading.

"Heck, yeah. Sure."

Her smile blooms. "Thanks, JJ."

"I swear to god, though, Susanna, I see any pictures of you in anything resembling underwear I'll lock you in the tower myself."

"Deal. Maybe." She smiles, and then looks hesitant, wistful. I think I know what she's feeling. Things are changing. She's growing up, and despite all her assertions to the contrary, I doubt she's entirely happy about it. When I admitted it to myself, I wasn't all that happy about it either, upon occasion.

She sighs, and then looks over. "Can we just watch cartoons now?" I nod, and she scoots over next to me, leans against me. I wish I could make it easier for her. Time was, all it took was a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and some Looney Tunes. But it isn't that simple anymore.

I creep quietly down the stairs. Josh and I need coffee terribly, but I don't want to wake anyone. That's why I'm making it instead of Josh. He has no capacity for stealth. Multiple people crashed here last night, and they need their rest. Especially the kids. So I'm doing it. I don't think Josh really minds, though, judging by how quickly he settled back under the covers.

I stop short when I notice the TV's soft hum, and then I see the two of them on the couch, asleep. God, it's been awhile since I've seen that beautiful sight on a Saturday morning. A feeling of complete contentment warms me as I look at them.

They've been doing this for years. Sometimes, when we came down, they'd be cooking breakfast, singing along softly to whatever song was on the radio. Those first few years, Suzy would be covered in pancake batter, and JJ would be peering into the bowl of eggs, attempting to pick out the shells with a look of distaste on his face, and splatters of the batter in his hair. Other times, they'd still be sprawled in front of the TV, Suzy cuddled in JJ's arms, with her head on his chest. And other times, like today, they'd be asleep, amidst pillows, crumbs, and bowls of multicolored milk.

That last one was always my favorite.

Even if we were up, Josh and I never came down before the appointed hour. We wanted them to have their time, their memories, together. Josh was adamant about it. He has so few memories of Joanie, and even fewer of just the two of them. He wanted JJ and Suzy to have that.

JJ stirs and pouts a bit in his sleep, mutters. When he quiets, I reach out and stroke his hair. Even after a good night's sleep, he still has slight circles under his eyes. He works himself too hard, stubborn boy. Just like his father. His cheeks are slightly flushed, like always, and with a fond smile, I notice the spot of drool on the pillow. It's strange what one finds endearing, but there it is.

And Suzy. Our miracle baby, our gift. Josh cried when I told him. Full-out sobbed. He never really allowed himself to grieve, not until then, for the pain, for the lost time, for yet another reminder of his fallibility. Our tears mingled when I held her in my arms for the first time. Josh ran a finger over her cheek and his hand gripped mine hard, and he whispered a broken, muffled "Thank you" into my neck.

And now she wants to leave us. Josh is plotting, trying to figure out a way to keep her here, but I know better. Underneath the gentleness, she's got a spine of steel. Too many people overlook that determination of hers. I'm not thrilled over the venture either, but it could be good for her, in a way. I have yet to convince Josh of that; I keep telling him the best way to "keep" her is to let her go, let her try her wings. I don't want us to make the same mistakes with her that we made with JJ. It took too long to bring our boy back home; I don't think I could stand another heartache like that, to say nothing of Josh.

All of a sudden I feel arms slip around my waist, warm breath on my cheek. "Good morning, Joshua."

"Morning, Donnatella. Whatcha doin'?"

"Looking." I turn my head a bit, just in time to see his eyes get soft.

"Huh. Look at that." His voice is slightly raspy. "Look at that."

"You said it, Daddy."

We stand for a few minutes in the quiet, and watch together. After a few minutes, I ask the question: "Josh. What are we going to do about Suzy?"

He sighs, runs a hand over his face. "Let her go," he says softly. "Let her go."