Taylor woke up to the sensation of something tickling her under the nose. She turned her head away, but just a minute later the tickling was back.

Blearily opening one eye, she found herself staring into a poofy feather duster of orange-red fur, a few black tufts decorating the tip of the thing poking at her face.

She blinked a few more times and reassessed where she was. The pillow by her head and the ceiling above were enough to tell her that it was her bedroom, but she didn’t recall owning a feather duster.

There was something wrapped around one leg, a heavy weight across her chest and her hand was over something warm.

Leaning her head up, she found that Cheshire had a leg over hers and was hugging her thigh close to her face, nose scrunched up against Taylor’s side even as her ears twitched in what had to be a contented dream. Further up, Remedy was stretched out so that one arm crossed Taylor’s chest like a warm, heavy noodle.

Pop was on the bed too, though she occupied the farthest corner and was sitting up against the wall, entirely wrapped in a pile of blankets so that only her head was visible, and her sword. Taylor made a note to remind her, again, that there shouldn’t be any weapons in bed.

She wiggled her hand, then turned to her right to find that Tattletail was sleeping, feet towards Taylor’s head and both hands pressing Taylor’s down onto her exposed tummy. Every time Taylor moved her hand there would be a corresponding twitch from her tail.

She sighed. This was her life now. It didn’t matter how many blankets she put on the floor or how many air mattresses she found, by the time morning rolled around she would be covered in little sisters.

Taylor wasn’t going to admit that it was actually kind of... nice. She felt loved, which wasn’t something she had ever needed to put into words. The last time she could remember that warmth was when her mother hugged her close and reminded her that she was the most important thing in the world to her. To feel that again every morning was a little heady.

She moved her hand off Tattletail’s tummy and ignored the whine of protest before the girl rolled into a ball, her tail coming up between her legs until she bit into the black tip. Then she wiggled her leg until Cheshire grumbled and turned to grab onto Remedy.

The Remedy situation fixed itself as she hugged Cheshire closer instead.

Taylor saw Pop open one eye to look as she got out of the bed, but her little ninja just nodded once and went back to her quiet, sleepy vigil. She earned herself a gentle pat on the head as Taylor got up and padded over to the hallway.

Judging by the chainsaw snore from her dad’s room, he was still firmly asleep, which only left one person MIA that morning.

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The stairs creaked just a little as she made her way to the first floor. That’s where she found her missing sister.

Crochet’s head was bobbing up and down like a metronome while a kettle sat on the stove. “Big Sis?” she mumbled as Taylor moved closer. “I’m making tea and breakfast.”

“I can see that,” Taylor said as she turned on the burner under the kettle. “You’ll be waiting for a long time if you don’t actually turn the stove on.” She checked the kettle, but Crochet hadn’t forgotten to put water in.

The nearness meant that Crochet had no trouble grabbing Taylor and sticking her face into Taylor’s side. “‘M tired.”

Taylor chuckled and patted Crochet behind the head. “Then why are you up, silly? It’s Saturday morning.”

“Have to make you breakfast,” Crochet said into her side.

Taylor stopped patting her head so that she could give her a quick hug. She leaned a little closer. “Don’t tell your sisters, but you’re the best,” she whispered.

It was as if she’d injected pure caffeine into Crochet. Her eyes widened and a smile blossomed across her face as if she had just seen the world’s first sunrise. “I-I” she stuttered. “I’ll put on toast.”

Making breakfast was a quick affair. She would have wanted to make eggs, but they were out. And there was no butter, or milk left. No cereals either. Just half a bag of bread that she had bought not two days ago and the bottom of a jar of peanut butter. She found some jam that still looked good tucked in the far corner of the pantry too. It was easy to see, on account of the lack of stuff in said pantry.

The pit in her stomach grew a little. It was hard enough when it was just her and her dad. Five more mouths to feed was really pushing their limits.

Tattletail was the first to make her way downstairs. She looked around the kitchen, zeroed in on the plate of PB&J sandwiches and stole one with a swipe. “Mmorgging,” she said through a mouthful of bread.

“Good morning to you too,” Taylor said.

“We need to talk,” Tattletail said as soon as she was done swallowing.

“Do we?”

The little fox girl nodded. “Yup. I made plans. And then, because I knew you’d say no to those, I made even more plans.”

“This I have to hear,” Taylor said as she sat down, a mug of steaming tea on one side and a sandwich in the other.

Tattletail nodded and tried to look serious. With only one ear perked while the other was still flopped to the side, it didn’t work. “We need lots of money. But before we can get that money by working for it, we need to tell the PRT to mind their own business. And before we can do that, we need to do something heroic.”

“I almost follow. Go on,” Taylor said before taking a sip.

“Right! So there’s going to be a bank robbery today, and we’re going to stop it.”