I'm in that boat with 5. I feel as if I've done something illegal. 0.o

More dedication to Barn Owl Girl. I've got her so close to the edge of her seat, I'm surprised she hasn't fallen off it, hit her head on her computer desk, and gone to the hospital in a coma. I also owe her a four course meal based on the next few chapters. Just… I know what you're thinking, and don't. Do not ask. It's better for everyone that way. XP

Also, before we launch into a chapter that is WAAAAY rated M for MATURE, I just want to point out that I am most likely significantly older than most of my avid followers. I should warn you lot now that this chapter is very heavy on adult themes out of necessity. The site prohibits anything too explicit—though it feels like I'm overstepping that boundary, 'cause I'm normally so modest. :/

Luckily for us, 1 is an egghead in this chapter. Have fun with that. ;)

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The Way Things Begin

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In the past few happy weeks, the days had grown cooler and cooler. It was sometime in the middle of autumn, now. Even though the cold was creeping into the library, sinking in deeper by night, neither 9 nor 7 could be bothered by it. Their marriage bed was a fortress to keep them safe from the season's chill—it had been a gift built out of love that had been forged in fire, until it became something steady and unbreakable.

For a long while, they sat in their bed in comfortable, affectionate silence; and 9 took that time to marvel at the young woman nestled happily in his arms. Her head down upon his shoulder; one arm around his waist, her other hand against the arm the held her so dearly close; her knee slung casually over his legs, enough to keep his whole lower half warm.

He let his hand wander down her thigh, savoring the feel of the strong, toned muscles beneath. 7 was an athlete; she was sturdy, graceful and strong from years of self-training. His own journey had taught him plenty about physical strength—not that he had been a weakling to begin with. He liked to think he had gotten stronger over the course of his quest… But he felt as soft and squishy as a puddle of mud, compared to his bride. His nature merited soft-and-squishiness; it complimented her hardness well, he supposed.

"Are you asleep?" he asked after a long time has passed in silence.

"No," she answered with a very content sigh, and looked up to face him. "I'm just comfortable."

"I was just wondering; you've been so quiet."

7 gave him a mischievous grin. "I could change that, if you'd like," she offered, nuzzling his face sweetly.

9 chuckled a little, liking very much where this was going. "The night is still very young," he agreed.

That was all the invitation 7 needed. Gently taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips against his with a soft sigh. The first kiss was sweet enough; but as they moved in again and again, it became more intense. She slowly, fluidly slipped her leg farther across his hips until she was sitting squarely on top of him, all her weight against his chest, so he could feel her heart pounding against his own. It felt like their two separate, unique hearts were beating in time, as a single wonderful thing.

It wasn't close enough. He needed it—he wanted it. But he needed and wanted it from his wife, and from her alone. Nothing else dared to be on his mind. Arms around her, he held her closer, closer—as close as they could be without breaking into pieces. And still it wasn't close enough for either of them.

But that would come soon…

Inching forward, a teasing bit at a time, her fingertips trailed down his face and shoulders and down his chest like water, cleverly managing to evade his zipper on each pass. In turn, he let his own hands stray from her back to wander over her willowy sides, her arms and the strong, powerful legs on either side of him. Every now and again, he wrapped his arms back around her and held her closer, if it was possible at all. He had half a mind to reach for her fastening first…

But she had a full mind to that. Her fingers finally found their way around his zipper pull, gripping it lightly, since the action of gently tugging it down, one delightful click at a time, took so little force. The sensation that followed was like a waterfall crashing over his head, making him tense up, yet relax completely in the same instant. It overpowered him, forcing every other thought but the intense pleasure from his mind. It was all he could do to let his head fall back into his pillow, savoring the feel of it. In the last few weeks, he had learned to expect the sudden instinct to tense up, and to let it go—the feeling was so much easier to enjoy if he relaxed and let it be. It was rich and deep, and, in a single word, good.

It didn't normally feel so amazing. She was the only one of them who could make him feel this way by doing so little, something that seemed so simple by day. Alone in their bed, it became something much bigger.

It had only been four clicks when 7 stopped suddenly, finally realizing that he had pulled away.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned that she was hurting him somehow.

"Don't stop," he whispered back, finding himself amazingly short of breath. He grasped her hand and helped her start again. "Slowly… You can't imagine…"

With a smile, she leaned down to his ear and whispered back, "Maybe I can." Her breath tickled against his neck, warm and soft as the rest of her. Perhaps, with their hearts beating as one, she felt it just as strongly as he did. He hoped so. With his senses adjusting, enough of his mind returned to hope that every time they did this, he made her feel every ounce as good as she made him feel.

She was only halfway done when a sudden burst of sense hit him over the head. He regained enough strength to reach up and carefully stroke the catch on her chest.

"Now it's your turn."

Her eyes slowly slid shut as he undid her, and she shivered as the same waterfall effect came over her. She fell back against him, her mouth back over his where it belonged. He reached inside, feeling for the sensitive wire that led directly to her very soul. There were so many wires to tangle his fingers in, but he knew that he must be close to finding it; any time he barely brushed against it, she gasped and moaned softly into his kiss, her voice rising with each bare touch.

The sound of her voice was almost more than he could stand. Mindful of her quicksilver circuitry, still tangled in his hand, he carefully roller her over on her back until he was on top of her, held fast between those strong legs of hers. He felt the unbearably enjoyable jolt course through his whole body as she reached inside, trying to feel for his own soul wire. But neither of them could quite… Quite—

Then their bedroom door suddenly opened and—of all people—1 walked right in.

"9! Boy, are you deaf?" he demanded. "Didn't you hear—"

They both looked up at once, completely stunned, all possibility of romance suddenly killed. With a cry of alarm, 7 snatched for a sheet to cover herself, more than a little embarrassed that anyone but her husband had seen so much of her. Attempting to shield the rest of her from sight, 9 felt nothing short of furious.

"Get out!" he commanded angrily. "Shut that door!"

Dumbfounded by what he had walked in on, 1 stammered for a response and back away a little too slowly.

"Get out! Go!"

Stammering a flustered apology, he scurried back the way he had come and slammed the door shut behind him. As suddenly as he had accidentally appeared, he was gone.

They both found themselves breathing hard from their adventure, but they weren't sure why. Still holding the bed sheet over her open chest, 7 turned to 9 with a dismayed, perplexed look on her face, silently demanding an explanation for why they had been so rudely interrupted. He had none for her, but he had a solution. With a comforting, sort of knowing smile, he climbed out of bed and walked across the room to the door.

It was only a short walk—about three or four steps, total—but his legs felt weak and wobbly from everything that had happened in the last few minutes. From the corner he took a long, thin wooden poll and laced it through a pair of eye-screws on either side of the door, barring it shut. That done, he turned back to his wife, dusting off his hands, the whole mishap behind them.

"Now I'm really glad I thought of that," he said proudly.

Still covering herself, 7 gave him a weak but thankful smile, and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. Seeing that she was still embarrassed, he came back and sat down beside her, and held her hands in his own. They were shaking slightly from an adrenaline crash.

"Hey…"

"I feel ridiculous," she stated plainly.

"Well, you shouldn't," he informed her, giving her a quick, reassuring kiss. "That wasn't our fault."

This time, her smile was much brighter. Reassured, indeed, she let the sheet fall back where she had snatched it from. Even in the dim light, 9 noticed out of the corner of his eye a green colored cable in the midst of her wiring. He looked again to be sure, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh, there it is!" he exclaimed quietly. His cheery observation dissolved all the leftover tension, and they began to laugh; the romance had come back to life. 7 peered into his wiring, and her eyes lit up, as well.

"Found it," she giggled, more girlishly than he had once thought possible. Releasing her hands, he leaned in close and nuzzled her face.

"Let's try this again."

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Not too long after he had left, 1 walked back into the common room and sat down in his favorite corner, a blank and dumbfounded look on his face.

"What happened?" 5 wanted to know, though he was sure from past experience that he could guess easily.

"I'm not going back out there," the old man mumbled tensely. "I refuse to go back out there."

Not bothering to look up from his project, 2 rolled his eyes. "I told you not to bother disturbing the newlyweds. I trust that from now on, when they say they are going 'to bed'," he scolded, using air quotes, "you will leave them be."

"You said you could use his help," 1 countered sourly.

"Oh, it would have been nice; I believe 9 would enjoy working on this generator," 2 agreed, surveying the state of the machine he was building. "But, oh well. There is always tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. Perhaps it is time to call it a night, after all."

5 took that as a sign to begin cleaning up. Suddenly, he wanted to crawl under his blanket and forget about stupid 1 and his stupid adventure.

"I sure hope that 9 can help us with this thing tomorrow," he commented absently, not fully aware that he was speaking. "I've missed him; he hasn't been much fun recently…"

He only realized that he'd said the last part out loud when he looked up and saw the concerned frown on 2's face.

"You might not be much fun either, if you'd just married the woman of your dreams," he pointed out. "We have who-knows-how-long to live together. Give them a while to just be a married couple. That might not last very long for them… Just be happy for them."

"What do you mean, that might not last?"

Perhaps 2 hadn't realized that he was speaking out loud, either. He shook his head and waved it away. "Never mind that, for now. Let's just get this mess cleaned up. We certainly know how to take over a space, don't we, 5?"

5 supposed that was true. Their work area had a wide radius, dominating most of the common room floor. This always seemed to happen, when they immersed themselves in a project. He had always found it relaxing and enjoyable to work with his father, whether they spent that time in conversation or companionable silence.

But now it was different. From the beginning, 9 had loved to tinker as much as they did. The idea that they might work together from now on, had been an idea that 5 had looked forward to and gotten excited about. But his brother had been too tired to move much, at first, and now he was always busy with his marriage. It seemed like he never really had the spare time to work with them. It was disappointing, and it sparked that same unusual anger from before.

Even though he gathered his things in neutral silence, it seemed like 2 read his thoughts like an open book.

"5, why are you so angry with them?"

"What? I'm not angry."

His father raised an eyebrow at him, his unimpressed expression clearly telling him to be honest with himself.

He sighed heavily, feeling defeated. "I just thought I'd see more of them," he lamented. "I was so excited to see them again. But now that we're all here, it's just like it was before: 7's vanished, and 9 had may as well not even exist. I never see them, these days. I…"

He wanted to admit how jealous he was, deep down inside. But he knew that would only cause more trouble.

"I really miss them," he said instead.

"That is not true, and you know it. You spent three days helping 9 build that bed. He came to you when he needed help."

"Then he climbed right into it, and I've barely seen him since then."

Partially forgotten in his corner, 1 scoffed and stood up. "You shouldn't envy them so," he commented, striding toward the door in his superior way. "Perhaps the confines of marriage have their enviable side, but they are confines, all the same. It means work, and patience, and tireless effort for husband and wife, alike. In my opinion, they've opened a dangerous can of worms that I do not envy in the slightest."

"Well, no one asked your opinion," 2 countered, sounding put out. "You're not going to bother them again, are you?"

"Goodness, no! I am going to bed, and I am going to try to forget what I saw tonight," he answered as he walked out of the room. "Marriage—the very idea. It does not suit me, and it most certainly does not suit you, boy."

That was a disheartening thing to hear from anyone. But 5 was certain that it could suit him, if only he were given a chance. He didn't care what sort of effort a love so deep would take, it was enviable. He had seen it—it had sort of exploded in his face. (Or maybe he had exploded into its face; he wasn't sure.) What was a lot of work, patience and effort, as long as there was someone to share it with? Someone. Anyone.

"You know you shouldn't listen to most of the things he says. I believe you could make any woman very happy," 2 assured him with his usual, kind smile. "Well, I mean, any smart woman."

"Yeah, if there was one…"

Enlightened to the true problem, 2 reached out and patted 5 on the shoulder. "It's best not to dwell on problems that we can't fix, my boy. If there was a way to fix this one, you know that I would help you do it in a heartbeat. And your brother and sister would help you, as well."

"I know…"

"This is upsetting you so deeply. I am so sorry."

Not even 2 seemed to think there was a solution. More than jealous, 5 felt entirely too hopeless to answer.

"Hey, it's a big, wide world out there; and it's all ours now. Who knows what we might find?"

"Do you think there might be someone else out there?"

"I can't say for certain. But… There might be."

"I hope so."

"And, if all else fails, you still have us. We will always be here for you, because we all love you. You remember that, always."

Now that was a cheery thought. Finally, 5 felt like he could smile again.

"Thank you."

Satisfied with that, 2 returned to cleaning up. "Come on, you, let's get this room back in order. Tomorrow, we'll go out and find the rest of the things we need. We'll have this generator together in no time."

"And in time for a long winter," 5 agreed optimistically, not realizing how prophetic his own words would turn out to be.

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The next morning dawned with a light frost on the ground—nothing a few minutes of sunlight couldn't frighten away. The air was crisp and cool, refreshing and invigorating, and the sun shone bright, warm enough to keep the autumn air from being too cold. It was still early in the season for the cold to stick too much.

In fact, the day was so lovely, all nine of them ventured out together. It had been weeks since they had really done anything as a family, and the nice weather was too good to waste indoors. Being together like that lifted 5's sunken spirits greatly; usually, he and 2 went out alone—like they had before, in the bad old days. And it was much easier to appreciate his brother and sister when they were with him, walking and talking with each other like the good friends they were.

As far as the generator was concerned, 5 found himself getting very little done. Mostly, he was content to observe the rest of them and what they were doing with their time. Even though they were together, they seemed to have formed little groups to themselves. Somewhere behind them, 2 had stopped to rummage through a pile of trash for findings, and 1 hovered over him critically; but somehow, he had become his brother's pack mule for the day. Every now and again, 2 would pick something up and examine it carefully.

"Ooh… This could do nicely…"

"It's covered in rust. Your precious generator will fall to pieces in a matter of hours."

"No, this is the one," 2 insisted, handing the piece to 1.

"Please tell me that you will be through with this soon."

"Do you want to freeze to death this winter?"

"No—"

"Then hold this for me!"

"Fine…"

That was sure to continue for the rest of the day. 5 found it extremely amusing; though not quite as amusing as what some of the others were doing. At one point, the twins had been a group to themselves. But at another point, they had absorbed 6, who had absorbed 8, and now the four of them were wandering around together. The twins would pick something up, cataloguing its practical uses first, and then the four of them would play around with it for a bit. There was a broken shard of glass, which they found could magnify things slightly—6 held it up over his smaller eye, until it appeared that both his eyes matched. They all took turns making silly faces through it until something else caught their attention.

They also spotted a small beetle scurrying over the frostbitten grass, and 3 was happy to rattle off from memory the exact type of beetle it was. But they didn't exactly care. The twins stood over it, marveling at its relative coolness (3) and cuteness (4). 8 surprised everyone by being intimidated by its quickness.

"I don't like that thing," he protested, backing away as the beetle scurried closer and closer toward his feet. As he backed away, he stumbled and fell over on his back. Seeing the beetle still moving after him, he scooted as far away as he could get, making an amazingly loud fuss over something so much smaller than him. Before it could reach him, 6 stepped between them and scooped the bug up in his hands, saving the day.

"Aw…" he said sympathetically, as if he connected with it—small, kind of unsightly, and misunderstood by the giants that surrounded it. The beetle paused, startled to be caught up by something so huge. But that passed in an instant, and it began crawling over 6's arms, shoulders and head, looking for a way down. Instead of freaking out, 6 began to laugh. Apparently, the beetle's legs tickled him.

"He likes me," he observed with a goofy grin, as is perched for a moment on his head.

"6, that's so cute!" 4 giggled, clapping her hands.

Startled by the flickering of her voice, the beetle changed direction and scurried down 6's arm. He held his hand out to her and said, "Here, you have him."

"Eep! No way! Not on me!"

Never too far away from the children, 5 was finally, happily spending some time with 7 and 9. As they meandered around, the three of them tossed a small rock around between them, just talking about things. It was exactly the way he had hoped things would be.

"Have we been too distant lately?" 7 wanted to know. "We thought we had been around… But then we realized this morning that you're halfway through building a generator or something that we didn't know about, and, well…"

"We worried that we haven't been quite as present as we had thought," 9 finished, catching the rock on his turn.

"No, it's really fine," 5 insisted, deciding to ignore all his previous thoughts. "We figured you just needed some time to yourselves."

7 snorted petulantly as she caught the rock from her husband. "1 didn't seem to think so…"

"That was an accident, sis. Let it go."

"I don't really want to," she answered, tossing the rock back to him.

"So true to form. You haven't changed a bit."

"Is that so bad?" she asked sweetly.

He gave her a sincere smile. "Nah."

She beamed back and moved up between them, putting her arms around their shoulders.

"Oh, you guys. I missed you both so much before. I'm so glad we're together again."

"The way it should be," 9 agreed, kissing her cheek.

"And we never have to be apart again. That's exciting," 5 concluded, wondering why he had felt so mad at them before. It seemed silly now.

Suddenly, 7 stumbled a little and fell on one knee, sort of dragging them with her. She caught herself quickly, but awkwardly. Not true to form at all.

"Whoa, are you okay?" 9 asked at once, helping her back up.

"I'm fine, I just tripped," she answered, waving him away. "Could've happened to anybody." Despite her protest, she blinked several times and raised her hand to her temple.

"Are you sure? You look dizzy," 5 pointed out, feeling deep in his gut that something wasn't right.

"Just stood up too fast. It's all your fault, 9," she teased, shoving him a little, trying to make light of what had happened. He looked more concerned than amused.

They both stepped back a bit, giving her some space to collect herself again. She stood still, taking deep breaths and gently massaging her temple, trying to clear the spots from her vision. Instead, she cleared her throat harshly and winced.

"Ow…"

"Honey, you should sit down," 9 insisted sternly, helping her to the nearest flat surface he could see.

"Maybe I should," she agreed vaguely, letting him help her down. She went on taking deep breaths, as deep as she could, but to no avail. She suddenly doubled over a little, clutching her stomach, and her hand flew over her mouth.

"I don't feel good…"

"Time to go home," 9 decided, taking her in his arms and hauling her to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Maybe…" she mumbled, leaning heavily against him. "Mostly, I just want to lie down."

"We haven't gone far," he comforted. "We'll be back home in no time, and you'll be just fine."

"Uh-huh…"

9 and 5 tried to set a fast pace, to get her back to the library as soon as they could, but 7 was struggling to get one foot in front of the other. In fact, they found themselves dragging her most of the way. 5 hoped that just this one time, 2 was distracted enough to not notice them going back. If he realized that one of them wasn't feeling right, he would naturally freak out and worry too much about it. He always did.

But, of course, 2 noticed at once.

"Where are the three of you going?" he asked, looking up from another finding, and then frowning. "What's the matter with 7? What's going on?"

"She isn't feeling well, but it's probably nothing," 9 insisted, trying not to let the old man worry. "She just needs to lie down for a bit."

As if to prove him wrong, she swayed like a ship and gripped his arm feebly to steady herself.

"I'm going to faint…"

Her eyes slid shut and she pitched forward into her husband's arms. At first, 5 was painfully worried about his sister. But he noticed, as 9 gathered her up and stood to carry her home, how his brother didn't seem worried at all. Concerned, but.. Calm. Almost as if he had braced himself for this. What id he know that everyone else didn't?

As they hurried back to the library, 2 ran alongside them. "It sure doesn't seem like nothing," he commented.

"I know, I know. 2, do you think it could be…?"

They exchanged a knowing, wondrous look, but the thought was never finished.

"Think it could be what?" 5 asked, feeling left out.

"We'll explain it all when we know for sure," 2 answered resolutely. "Until then, don't think too much about it."