Well, i did say I'd provide context today. without further ado, the first 'chapter' of the story. I'll post the whole thing up in a separate submission when it's done...it got away from me.

Not so long ago, in the mysterious land...of Seattle.

Reva L'strega was dating a high scho...

Oh wait, wrong story.

Ahem.

Not so long ago, in the woodland home of one Sammi L'strega, a screech split the pleasant night air, scattering birds and waking children.

“YOU DID WHAT!?”

There may have been some car alarms that went off as well.

Now, I am almost totally convinced my sister has some sort of mutant super power. I know as a fennec, my ears may or may not be a tad larger then most, (though still small for my pedigree) but Sammi had all but perfected ultra-sonic warfare. Clasping my hands over my head, I took a step back, wincing.

“Y'know-know,” I said in protest, “In some cultures, gratitude is the appropriate response to having received a gift.” She glared at me in response, and I automatically shifted my weight to my back foot, in case I had to leap away in defense of my shins. My sister, at almost a head shorter then I was could be considered slight of stature, but she could kick like a Brazilian soccer pro.

“Not when it comes at the expense of ignoring damn near five days of unpaid accounting magic and number crunching! You said you were going to invest that money wisely!”

Now that she had lowered her voice to a tone I didn't need to filter through my hands, I held them in gesture. “Sams, despite having all the looks and social skills in the family, you know that two plus two equals seventy two to me. Me 'wisely investing' would have entailed me just giving it all back to you, and technically, that's what I did.”

“Get a refund then. I'm not going.” She said, crossing her arms and flattening her ears in her 'huffy pose'. I winced again, not expecting her to be so adamantly against this. I mean, I did ignore all the meticulous financial advice she had painstakingly prepared for me, but she should have known me better. It's not like we hadn't been twins for the past twenty-six years.

“I can't. Either I go alone and eat the other half, or you come with. The experience is genetically coded already...they can't just cancel that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Genetically coded? How the heck did they get mine? And don't you dare say because we're twins you just sent in yours for the both of us because I still stand by my hunch that you were adopted!”

“No, you were adopted,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “Pbbbst. And honestly, in the future, if you don't want people getting a hold of your DNA, you really should vacuum more often. I can tell when you're having a rough time at work...when you get stressed out it makes you shed like a marmot. I could have made a rug from what was left on your rug.”

Ah, a little foresight is a good thing. I danced aside and narrowly avoided a shin-shattering karate punt.

“I'm disowning you,” she grumbled.

“I'd still live across the street. You'd take me back eventually, you'd miss my witty banter and exceptional cooking.”

“You're reaching.”

“Sammi, look. I didn't need the extra cash. The book tour has been great to me, and I have endorsements and sponsors looking to pick up 'EMT vs. Nurse” for marketing purposes, and my agent keeps harping me to write a sequel or twelve. You are successful enough for quintuplets, but when do you ever get to live a little and let your hair down? I mean, I swear you got that fourth bachelor's degree just to spite me.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“It's in underwater basket-weaving!”

“A useful skill!”

I sighed, nodding. “Well, OK then. I can't force you. Well, I can, because you're small and short and I know where you keep the rope, but I won't. I just wanted to do something extravagant as a way of thanking you for all the support. For everything, y'know? We're on the cusp of the rest of our lives...this may be the last time we can even DO something like this.”

As I spoke those last few words, I had subtly and deliberately switched to the 'forlorn accent'. Like my sister, I had a few lingual skills of my own, and not the least of which was making rather implausible things sound totally reasonable.

She groaned. She knew the tone, and was just as powerless against it as I was to her screeching. And kicking. And that screech-kick thing she did occasionally.

“If this is just some ridiculous scheme to get me in diapers just because you're stuck in them...”

Success. “That's not even an option,” I lied fluidly. “RejuVacations is all about the fun of being a kid. Who in their right mind would want to be a baby again? Goo goo gaga, some fun. Although, I could always call and inquire if you're curious...”

I could have dodged that second kick if I cared to, but I was all too familiar with this dance. As her size six sneaker connected with my knee, sending horribly vivid pain throughout the limb, it was as though we had just shook on it.

We were off!