A Jewel in the Dirt - 12. A touch of family

"But I don't want yellow!" Jack scowled.

"But with yellow, we'll do the stars and the moons and then we'll put the blue in and it'll be green and then we'll do the trees and the apples," Maisie reprimanded him.

"I like red apples better though.", Jessy declared and Jack nagged:

"I want them purple!"

"Maisie is right, we'll start with yellow," Daniel stated firmly and Dante grinned at the foam on the dishwater.

"We need more powdered sugar," Jessy made herself heard and Flynn obediently said:

"I'm working on it." Above the general noise level, Dante could hear Flynn scraping the powdered sugar through a sieve. He wasn't sure who had come up with the idea of having the kids bake cookies and having both Ethan and Flynn there, but so far it was going surprisingly peacefully- which was probably because Ethan was saying practically nothing and Flynn was merely making responses like he had just made.

Dante washed the stuff which wasn't allowed in the dishwasher and otherwise stayed out of it. Mikey was visiting family, TJ was escorting Miss Carolyn into town, and Seth was busy with whatever.

Dante was about to dry his hands when Jessy came up beside him.

"Hey, Dante, would you like a cookie?"

"If I may..." He smiled at her and with a serious smile she looked back; a strand of her dark blonde hair had come loose and she brushed it back as she held out a cookie to Dante. "Thank you..."

"Not with dirty fingers!" she rebuked him.

"They're not dirty, just wet."

"Anyway!" She held the cookie higher and with an inward sigh he tried to take a bite, only to have the whole cookie in star shape and with still wet frosting immediately stuffed into his mouth.

"Thanks..." he mumbled around the cookie, trying hard not to sound sarcastic.

"You don't talk with your mouth full.", Jessy retorted pointedly, turning away so he could give her back an eye roll.

"Are there almonds in there?" he wanted to know with interest after he had chewed and swallowed.

"Yes," Daniel said, saving a can of sugar pearls from falling, "almonds. It's hazelnuts in the original recipe, but there are some allergy sufferers here..."

"Tastes good."

"I think so too!" Jack exclaimed happily, protesting with his next breath: "Not so much glitter!"

"But stars do sparkle." Maisie seemed offended, and Flynn cautiously asked:

"So what if they only sparkle a little?"

The ensuing discussion regarding the amount of edible glitter on the cookies was followed by Dante in half amusement, half disbelief, while Daniel and Ethan took the matter decidedly seriously. In the midst of Jack's overly fanciful explanation regarding purple stars, Frank entered the kitchen and sniffed exaggeratedly.

"Cookies!"

"Yes, we're baking cookies!" declared Jessy with dignity, and then she gave him a slap on the wrist when he tried to take one.

"Ouch!"

"Hey, if Dante can have a cookie, Uncle Frank can have even more!" Maisie protested, handing him a shooting star.

Frank thanked her with a nod, stuck his tongue out at Jessy, and then winked at Dante, who was leaning against a kitchen counter with his arms crossed and grinning.

"Uncle Frank, what do you think of this one?", Jack wanted to know.

"Great!" Frank replied chewing, but with a beam on his face, which Jack returned. And then Dante couldn't look as fast as Frank threw a shrieking Maisie over his shoulder for casting a disdainful glance at Jack's artwork. Frank twirled his niece around, tickling her as he did so, and her shrieking turned to stifled laughter.

"Frank! Put her down, she just ate!" Daniel shouted, more resigned than outraged.

Jack bounced up and down. "Me too! Me too!"

After helping Seth with some files, Dante returned to the kitchen, where Frank was now sitting as a buffer between Jack and Maisie, painting cookies with colored icing. Dante would have loved to know why Frank had returned to the house so early, but now was definitely not the time.

"Hey, Dante, could you please start putting those cookies in the boxes over there?" Daniel asked with a calmness that revealed a certain exhaustion.

"Careful!" exclaimed Maisie immediately.

"Sure." Dante nodded and smiled reassuringly at Maisie. As if to check that he was doing it right, Jessy stepped up beside him, and after a moment, she helped him carefully layer the cookies into a red tin box with white hearts.

"I don't like Flynn." she said very, very quietly as the box was full and Dante reached for a second one that was blue with white hearts.

"Did something happen?", he wanted to know just as quietly, wondering why she was telling him this. He couldn't remember exchanging a word with the girl before.

"He's here." she said with a seriousness that worried him a little.

Thoughtfully, he nodded.

"And Ethan has to go because of him."

"It's not Flynn's fault," Dante returned gently.

Jessy's hands trembled, but her voice was calm. "I know. And I know Ethan ain't my Pa, but still... I don't want Flynn here. I don't like the way Ma looks at him. I don't like the way he tries to be nice to me. Ma doesn't even care that she's hurting me and Ethan. She's... the word is selfish, isn't it?"

"M-hm." Taken off guard, Dante looked at the girl.

"She said he forgot his place," Jessy continued, a subtle bitter undertone creeping into her voice. "But a good mistress leads, teaches, punishes, loves and protects. I don't think she was trying to teach him. She simply punishes him."

For that line of thought alone about what made a good mistress, Dante would have liked to kiss her feet.

"Ethan is a good man, he would have accepted her correction."

"Those are big words for a young girl."

She raised her eyes, tears pooling in them. "I'm listening to the sisters at the temple school, Dante."

"That's good." He was a little overwhelmed by this conversation.

"That stupid glitter is going to be stuck here in the kitchen for weeks.", Ethan could be heard clearly in the small pause in the conversation and Jessy sobbed quietly, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

"Only if it's not cleaned properly," Flynn objected critically and Jessy whirled around.

"Shut up!"

Dante winced, as did probably everyone else. And then he hastily grabbed her by the arms before she could throw anything at the boy.

"Jessy!" Ethan shouted, jumping up with so much force that his chair fell over.

Dante let go of the girl, who threw herself into her foster father's arms and was almost immediately carried outside by him.

Daniel broke the uncomfortable silence with a clearing of his throat. "Kids, shall we take some of these cookies upstairs to Ma?"

Only when Daniel, Maisie and Jack had disappeared with a plate of colorful cookies did Dante move again. He took a deep breath and looked at Frank, who was outwardly completely unimpressed looking toward the door, and then at Flynn, whose lower lip was trembling.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered to no one in particular.

"It's not your fault." Dante said, trying an encouraging smile as Flynn looked at him.

"I know. But for Jessy, it's my fault."

"It's Britney's fault," Frank said dryly, continuing to decorate the cookies.

Dante could see in Flynn's eyes how he wrestled inwardly with this apportionment of blame. If the impression he had gotten of Flynn was true, then against his better judgment, the boy would take the blame to protect his mistress. Before Dante could say anything to Flynn, though, he rose and hurried out. Dante sighed and rubbed his face. "Great... absolutely great..."

"I thought you don't like him." Frank raised a brow and Dante sighed again.

"I don't. But once Ethan's really gone... what's going to happen to the Britney-Jessy-Flynn constellation?"

"Flynn is a slave, Jessy is smart, and Britney is stupid."

Dumbfounded, Dante blinked, but Frank stubbornly devoted himself to the cookies. That Britney and her brother didn't have the best of sibling relationships, Dante already knew, but he had a hard time placing this supercool statement.

"Do you have any siblings?" Frank then asked curiously, and Dante shrugged.

"I don't know."

Confused, Frank lowered the cookie. "How could you not know?"

"I was raised in a children's home by nuns. All I know about my mother is that she's a Sapphire- and that the Sapphires are part of the top tier of the upper class."

"You... she gave you away?" Frank sounded so incredulous that Dante felt very uncomfortable again.

"Maybe she had to. Maybe... I don't know, Frank. I don't even know her name. I think there are three women who it could be." As a child, he had thought about why he lived in that home and not with his mother, but eventually he had given up on it. If she hadn't wanted him, it was probably better that she gave him away rather than treat him badly. Over the years, in fact, he hadn't cared anymore- and by now Denser's Port was also too far away to ever hear his last name used in reference to other people again.

Frank, who had been staring intently at his cookie in between, now raised his eyes again. "Can we be your family?" he asked quietly, almost a little shyly.

"I bear your name, so I'm one of you," Dante returned cautiously, knowing immediately that Frank had wanted to hear something else. "But... ask me again in a few weeks," he added and a small smile crept onto Frank's face.

~

"Hey guys, I got-" Dante's words were lost in jubilant roars. The workers sat transfixed in front of the TV, watching what Dante identified after a moment as a ice hockey match. "Guys?"

"What's up?" It was Dennis who answered, even rising after a quick glance.

"The kids baked cookies and generously determined you guys were entitled to some."

Dennis grinned. "Thank you for that noble donation. This will be the after-match snack."

Confused, Dante looked at him and passed the colorful cookie jar.

"Now none of those idiots would know what they're stuffing in," Dennis explained, rolling his eyes. "It's the first match of the season and Westshire is playing."

"Doesn't ice hockey interest you?" Dante asked, glancing again at the television.

"I got a puck in the face when I was a kid, and that was enough."

Dante grinned. "Didn't hurt you, apparently."

Dennis grinned back. "And it would do you good."

"What would do him good?" Tom wanted to know, and Dante glanced over his shoulder. Tom came sauntering in and put an arm around Dante's shoulders in an accentuated casual gesture.

"A puck in the face." Dennis replied, his grin shrinking.

Tom snorted in amusement. "That would do some people good."

"My point exactly." Dennis gave Dante a wink and retreated along with the cookie jar. He wasn't much younger than Blaise, but even so, he seemed unreservedly submissive to the authority Tom exuded. Like actually everyone here, Dante had noted, but after Mistress Alice's statement it all made more sense now; presumably Tom's family had had more than one slave before whatever had happened to make Tom one himself.

"I heard there was a little drama upstairs," Tom then said casually, his eyes fixed on the TV, pulling Dante close to him. Dante resisted, but he couldn't help that it definitely wasn't a purely friendship gesture anymore, yet he didn't return the gesture- not when there were so many people around.

"Yeah" he replied just as casually, trying to make sense of the bustle on the screen. Denser's Port was south-southeast of here, and the few flakes falling there in winter merely managed to create a coating layer in the heated metropolis every few years; there was no thought of winter sports in the region, and he didn't know anyone who was interested. "Jessy's not taking it too well," he said.

"She's taking after Jordan too much," Tom muttered, wincing as a Westshire player was fouled badly.

"Must have been an ugly story..." Dante remarked, catching Tom's nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, basically the only ugly thing about it is Britney, but don't tell anyone. She didn't want Ethan and devoted herself to her grandmother's personal slave out of spite. And Mistress Charlotte didn't think it was funny at all. When it was clear after Jessy was born that Jordan was the father, she sold him immediately."

"And Britney didn't care?"

"Don't really know. Wasn't a pleasant time, anyway, and only settled down after the old lady caught pneumonia and died. But Britney and Ethan never had more than a nice front, for Ethan can claim what he wants." Tom paused for a moment. "But I'm sorry for the girl."

"So am I..." murmured Dante in agreement, involuntarily pulling his shoulders up, prompting Tom to stroke his back reassuringly.

As the others collectively groaned at Westshire conceding a goal, Dante sighed. "Alright, I'm going to go help clean up the battlefield up there."

"Okay..." Tom nodded and Dante gave him a teasing smile, which he returned.

"What's the score?" Blaise's voice suddenly boomed, and before Dante knew it, he got a cheerful smack on the shoulder.

"Tie!" Sawyer shouted critically.

"Damn!" Blaise seemed to be taking the matter seriously, and Dante stifled a grin as he ruffled Tom's hair the way he usually did Frank's.

~

Since Mistress Alice had ordered Dante to sleep at Frank's while she was gone, he put his alarm clock in his backpack and took it with him as he walked over to Frank's room. Under his other arm he carried his sleeping clothes and fresh clothes for tomorrow. Frank, who was covering extra bedding, first smiled at Dante, then frowned.

"What have you got there?"

Involuntarily, Dante gripped the backpack tighter. "My possessions." The fact that slaves were allowed to own things was always controversial, and there were enough women who didn't like it and tried to forbid it to their own slaves. It was silly to take the backpack with him, but since he owned this backpack, it was always next to him when he slept. Without it felt strange.

Apparently, Frank had read something on Dante's face, because he merely nodded. "I didn't mean to pry."

Dante nodded back and then they got ready for bed in silence.

But as Dante placed his alarm clock on the nightstand, Frank asked: "Has anyone ever stolen from you?"

"No, why?"

"Because you looked weird."

"Stealing from one another is frowned upon and can be punished quite severely, but there are enough women who won't begrudge a slave anything."

"And yet you own things."

"Of course, because they're not allowed to take anything from us. But I've heard some nasty stories about destroying and the like."

"What's your most precious possession?"

Dante hesitated at the question. Most of the things he owned were worthless materially, but they were memories and attentions. "I don't know..." he finally said slowly. "Maybe this." He pulled out a hardcover book and hesitantly handed it to Frank, who accepted it almost reverently.

"The Sons of the Great Mother..." he read the title aloud and frowned. "What kind of book is this?"

"You might say a religious storybook."

Frank looked confused and Dante had to smile. He slipped under the covers and then leaned the book against the pillows before flipping through it.

"Everyone knows the most important daughters of the Great Mother, after all the months are named after them, but the divine sons do more than ride as Wild Hunt." At Frank's skeptical face, he wondered for a moment if Frank remembered going to temple school- because those classes were mandatory even for boys.

Frank made himself comfortable. "Oh." he said in surprise when Dante stopped flipping the pages. On the left page was a picture of a warrior, with sword and shield and silver armor. His hair gleamed white-blond and a determined line was around his mouth. "Dante, the Warrior of Light..." Frank read the title of the story which began on the right page. "You're named after a son of the Great Mother, then?" Apparently he didn't remember much, if his curious gaze was any answer.

"Looks like it." Dante grinned. "And he was even one of the good guys. See the gem on his shield? With that, he could banish the divine powers of his half-brothers for a few years, making them harmless. Don't look like that, it was necessary. Ares, after all, was cast out of heaven and, when he fell, stole lightning bolts with which he threatened and killed people. And Deimos, Dante's only real brother, left heaven of his own accord and corrupted those around him with his hatred and anger."

"And Dante fought against them?"

"M-hm. Or he protected his other brothers and sisters. Raphael the healer, for example, or Skyler the priest, or Persia." Dante liked the stories, though he'd had a hard time coming to terms with the origin of his name at first.

Curious, Frank flipped through the book, looking at the various illustrations. "Who gave you this book?"

"A mistress, of course. For coming of age. She had very strange tastes in punishments and rewards. But she was actually a good mistress." Nearly four years Dante had lived with this woman, who had made him clean her floors for every mistake he made during driving lessons, but she had always been generous with her slaves- until she had died unexpectedly.

Frank gave an approving hum, then paused. "Andros the Seducer... looks more like a show-off," he said.

"But I hear he was pretty successful." A grin crept onto Dante's face. "By the way, the enhancement of ugly is: so ugly that even Andros wouldn't want."

Frank chuckled and then tapped the almost completely naked depiction of the divine son. "Why do men have nipples, anyway, if there's nothing behind them for babies to drink from?"

A little surprised by the change of subject, Dante raised his eyebrows. "If you want a medically accurate answer, you should ask Valentine."

"What kind of answer do you have?"

"A theological one."

Expectantly, Frank looked at him.

"Well... The Great Mother created men in the image of women and took the excess body mass from above and pushed it down to make the testicles. The sap of life, they say. Milk is white and so is ejaculate. She just forgot to remove the nipples." Dante personally couldn't imagine the Great Mother forgetting anything, but that was just the story he knew about it.

Frank, on the other hand, grinned wryly. "Imagine if she had moved the nipples down with them. Then we'd look like a cow with her udder." He laughed goofily, and Dante had to grin more because of that than because of the idea itself- because it was kind of disturbing. He closed the book and gently slid it back into his backpack before getting comfortable.

"Good night, Frank."

"Good night..." Frank was still chuckling as he turned out the light.

Mentally, Dante was still thinking about what Mistress Alice had said about Tom when Frank suddenly asked quietly:

"Dante... can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Dante turned to Frank, though of course he couldn't see a thing in the darkness either way.

"Remember the last time you slept here? You said something in the morning... well... you said to ask Pa... about... what it means to jerk off..."

"Yeah..." said Dante slowly, anticipating what was coming next.

"Pa said I didn't need to know," Frank continued, just as Dante had feared. "But that sounds wrong."

"Hmm."

"Will you explain?"

"I can try..." Dante muttered, chewing on his lip for a moment. Why did Blaise refuse to answer his son that question? "Well... basically, it means sex with your own hand." Short and direct.

"But... for sex, you need a woman," Frank objected uncertainly.

Great, really, now this wonderfully awkward topic was completely stuck on Dante. He suppressed a sigh. "Sex is more than just the union of a man and a woman. Flynn would tell you now that men must experience pleasure only through their mistress, but for one thing, not all men have a mistress, and for another, the Great Mother would have created us differently if she'd really wanted it that way."

"Hmm.", made Frank. "So what is sex then?"

"Sex is..." Dante paused. Was there even a proper definition for it? "I guess I can't tell you that exactly. But touching yourself for the purpose of orgasm... that's definitely a sexual act." Now please don't ask what an orgasm is, Dante begged silently, and sure enough, Frank skipped over that possible foreign word.

"And you can do that in the morning when...?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. I can't imagine my sisters and their mates just doing that in the morning." Frank sounded like he was wrinkling his nose, and Dante had to grin involuntarily.

"No, why would they?"

"Well, because it only happens in the morning."

"You can induce this state quite deliberately..." Suddenly Dante felt like he was on thin ice, but with what reason would he refuse to answer Frank? Blaise obviously wouldn't give him any explanations, and why should he ask Tom when Dante was just here? But why did Frank ask Dante at all? What had earned him enough trust for this sensitive subject? "With a touch... or with thoughts alone..." he added explanatorily and Frank made a surprised sound.

"With thoughts? That's... weird."

Now it was Dante who gave a noncommittal 'hmm' and then hoped that Frank wouldn't immediately get carried away with any experiments.

But after a while of dozy silence, Frank murmured: "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Dante murmured back, curling up.

"You know... you're different," Frank then added.

"Different how?", Dante wanted to know, squinting into the darkness.

"You're sincere.", Frank replied, sounding as sincere as he could himself. "You... With you, I don't feel like you're trying to protect me by keeping something from me."

That stunned Dante again. "I don't think the tactic of concealment belongs in a family."

"No... I love Tom, like a brother, but he's like that too." Now Frank sounded almost sad. "Anthony always told me everything, he never hid anything from me or lied. Everyone else seems to have forgotten him, but not me." A tiny pause. "You remind me of him."

"Oh..." That was all Dante could think of to say. He would have loved to comfort Frank, but he had no idea how to go about it. "Maybe..." he finally began, swallowing hard, "maybe they didn't forget him, but just packed the memories away well so it wouldn't hurt so much."

"Maybe..." Frank whispered, not really convinced.

"No one can replace your brother, Frank, so... please be careful when you say I remind you of him. I can't replace him, and I don't want to do so." Slowly, Dante reached out and touched Frank somewhere on the arm.

Frank sniffed quietly and grabbed Dante's hand. "But we can be friends, right?"

"We can, right." Despite the darkness, Dante nodded to his words. His heart was heavy and he stroked Frank's big rough hand with his thumb until he fell asleep, then whispered: "The Great Mother made us all brothers."