Jacob hasn't been home since the trickster case. He already knows that he isn't welcome there anymore. A bitter old drunk he may be, but Isaac Stone is still the head of the family, and if he says that Jacob is out, then Jacob is out. If he shows up now, all he'll get is the cold shoulder from his relatives and probably most of the town, too, since rumors spread damned fast in small places like that, especially when he's not there to defend himself. He's not the first member of the clan to step out of bounds—his cousin Margot ran off with her girlfriend when he was seventeen, and she hasn't been allowed back in any of their lives since—and he knows what happens. He's quite sure that if they possessed a family tree tapestry like the most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Isaac would've burned his name right the fuck off it.

A part of him is always going to miss it, the endless clamor of young voices, aunts and uncles welcoming him back, cousins taking him for a good brawl at the bar after dinner. A part of him is relieved, too, since going home always means pretending, and even if it is only for a few days, it stings a lot more now that he's used to just being himself in the Library. But a very big part of him is happy, happy that he can finally just spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at home, with Cassandra and Ezekiel, and not have to leave them in Portland like a dirty secret when he goes to visit his relatives every year. And knowing his lovers, that means a full night of snuggling under warm blankets, hot chocolate, movie marathons, and unwrapping presents of a very different sort.

Which is the thought that has him smiling as he makes the walk-up to his flat, digging in his pocket for his keys. He hears Christmas music filtering faintly through the door, but it doesn't worry him. It just means that Ezekiel's gotten here before him and has broken in again. He can't get the thief to stop doing that, so he's given up arguing about it.

So he unlocks the door—Ezekiel will lock him out of his own flat, he's done it before, the punk-ass—and pushes the door open...only to get bowled over into the wall by a flying attack hug from someone who is definitely not Cassandra or Ezekiel. Someone with dark hair and a familiar voice gleefully laughing in his ear.

"Merry Christmas, Jake!" Dinah squeals, clinging to him with sloth-like efficiency, attempting to smother him in her mane of hair.

"What the fuck?" It's the first thing that comes to mind and the first thing out of his mouth because what the fuck, why is his baby sister in his flat? Why is his baby sister in Portland?

"Language," chides another voice, and he finally manages to pry Dinah away from him enough to see Leah standing in the entryway to his kitchen, hands on her hips and a smile on her lips.

"Oh, my God, look at his face," a third voice chortles, and Jacob is starting to feel a little lightheaded when Rachel comes out of the living room, grinning at him.

"What...what...?" He can't remember how to form words at the moment because he's still trying to understand why his sisters are here, in his flat, in Portland, when they should be in Oklahoma.

"Surprise!" Dinah chirps in his ear. She's moved around to cling to his back instead, so he's no longer in danger of choking on her unruly hair, and he finds himself grasping her wrists, which are locked together around his neck. Yep, she's definitely real, which means they are all definitely here. What the fuck?

"What are you doing here?" he asks at last, finally remembering how to use his voice.

Leah gives him that special 'you-dummy' look that only a younger sister can really pull off to full effectiveness. "It's Christmas, Jake. We're your family, we're not going to let you spend it alone," she says, lightly admonishing as she crosses the hall to hug him.

Jacob wraps his arms around her back on reflex, and the familiar warmth of her suddenly makes it all sink in. His sisters are all here, in Portland, with him. Which means they are not home in Oklahoma, with their father. "Wait a minute, Pop...the old man..." he stutters out weakly.

Leah steps back, and Rachel immediately hugs him, too, still short enough to tuck her head under his chin. "Just because he kicked you out of his life doesn't mean he can kick you out of ours, Jake," she reminds him gently.

"You're our favourite brother," Dinah adds, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I'm your only brother," he replies automatically, more than just a little stunned.

"Yeah, that's why you're our favourite." She tugs at his shoulders playfully. "C'mon, come help us make dinner."

Jacob lets himself be guided into the kitchen where Leah is already mounting a raid of his pantry, humming 'Joy to the World' like it is just another holiday back home, her dark curtain of hair swirling around her as she moves. Rachel ruffles his hair as she passes him, coming to sit at his kitchen table. "You look good, big brother," she notes. "Good to see Portland's treating you right."

"'Keep Portland Weird,' sounds like your kind of town, Frankengeek," Dinah chips in brightly.

He starts to open his mouth to answer, but immediately closes it when he hears the front door rattle open. Leah, Rachel, and Dinah all go still and quiet, turning towards the source of the noise like hunting hounds. The starting-to-be-warm feeling growing in his chest suddenly goes frigid, and he wishes the earth will open up and swallow him when Ezekiel's thick accent echoes down the hall. "Oi, sexy, we're—" Ezekiel cuts off abruptly when he rounds the corner and finds himself facing all three of Jacob's sisters, who were all glancing between him and Jacob with dawning realisation. The thief isn't stupid, either. He can see the resemblance and can figure out their relation to him quickly enough, just like anybody with eyes and half a brain could, and the colour slowly begins draining out of his face.

Jacob can't quite stop the whimper that escapes his throat when, as if to prove there is a God and He has a sadistic streak a fucking solar system wide, Cassandra's voice calls up the hallway, "Jake, do not listen to a word he says, I am not putting on any form of lingerie until after din—" Her voice seizes up in the same way Ezekiel's has when she sees their three visitors, freezing in place like a deer caught in the high beams.

"Jake?" Leah says quietly, prompting him to say something.

"Uhm...yeah, Cassandra, Ezekiel, these are...my sisters. Leah, Rachel, Dinah, this is Cassandra and Ezekiel, they're my..." He almost says coworkers. Almost. But calling someone 'sexy' and discussing the wearing of lingerie is not part of a conversation held between coworkers, ever, so he gives up and says, "My partners."

If it hadn't already, the bucket of pennies drops with a resounding clatter, and for a moment, there's terse silence in the kitchen. Jacob is silently saying his own Last Rites and drafting a will because he's definitely a dead man now, but then Dinah breaks the stillness by turning and slugging him in the shoulder hard. "Ow!" he yelps despite himself, because dammit, she's got a good swing.

"Leave some cuties for the rest of us, you ass," she scolds, then turns a winning smile on Ezekiel and Cassandra, bounding over to hug them both. "Hi, I'm Dinah Stone. So, you two are in charge of our Frankengeek brother now, huh? Nice to know he's in good hands," she adds, planting a kiss on Ezekiel's cheek, and the thief actually flushes, cheeks darkening. Cassandra lets out a surprised bark of laughter, then claps a hand over her mouth, giggling behind her palm, her eyes flitting around the kitchen like she's not sure her reaction is appropriate yet.

"Dinah, do not flirt with our brother's boyfriend," Leah sighs with a shake of her head.

The youngest Stone only giggles and wraps both arms more securely around Ezekiel's neck, tugging him closer. "I can't help it. Look at him, he's adorable. We're definitely keeping this one."

Jacob sags back against the counter, still rubbing at his sore shoulder even though he's starting to feel a little lightheaded from the continuous shock. Because his sisters are here, on Christmas, in his flat, meeting both his lovers without raining down holy fire on their heads, and everything is going fine. It can't be happening, and yet somehow it still is. "You guys aren't...upset?" he ventures tentatively.

Rachel laughs as she comes to sling an arm around his shoulders; he can't help but flinch a little when she does, and even though she notices his wince, her smile doesn't falter. "C'mon, Jake, we've all known since we were, like, eight that you swung both ways, okay?" When Jacob's mouth falls open in mute shock, she rolls her eyes. "We're girls, Jake. Our gaydars are very finely tuned. Granted, you were deep enough in the closet to be on board the Dawn Treader, but we're your sisters. What don't we know about you? And, no, we aren't upset, and no, we don't care. Let your weirdo flag fly, Frankengeek, because you're always going to be our big brother, and we love you."

Jacob has to force himself to breathe for a moment, then turns and seizes her in a hug, burying his face in her curly hair to hide the fact that his vision's going a little blurry. He's not going to cry, dammit. He's not.

She huffs a laugh beside his ear and pats his back. "Alright, alright. Pull yourself together, you've got company here."

A surprised chortle slips out as he drops his arms. "Thank you," he murmurs. He's not just talking to her, though. Leah is pretending to look through the cabinets beside him, and Dinah is listening to every word despite the fact that she's wrangled Ezekiel into a chair and is petting his hair like he's her new favourite kitten. When the thief tries to even subtly make an escape, she pinches his shoulder, making him jump and yelp and making Cassandra laugh all over again.

Leah closes the cabinets and her hand brushes his shoulder when she turns back to face the others. "Alright, I'm making stuffed shells. All in favour?"

"Aye," Jacob, Rachel, and Dinah chorus in unison; Leah's stuffed shells were to die for.

"The ayes have it. Everyone out, I'll need room," she orders but catches Cassandra by the elbow when the redhead stands up. "I'll also need an extra set of hands. Cassie, why don't you stay and help me in here? We can talk about how you met my dear big brother." Jacob opens his mouth to protest because he is so not leaving Cassandra alone with Leah, the sister that could probably give the military some tips on interrogation, but she overrides him, smiling like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "And Rachel and Dinah can go talk with Ezekiel in the living room until dinner's ready."

Immediately, Dinah drags Ezekiel to his feet by the shirt collar and tows him out of the kitchen, practically skipping with glee as Rachel follows close after. Jacob throws Leah a half-hearted scowl, which she returns with another angelic smile, before he hurries to rescue Ezekiel from Dinah; the part of him that had been mourning his exclusion from the family gets swallowed up and dissolved in the elated warmth that's spilling through him like sunlight after much too long in the cold.

Later, when they're all sitting in the living room, watching It's A Wonderful Life, Jacob is half-asleep and growing drowsier by the minute. Dinah stole a 27-year-old bottle of whiskey from their father before leaving Oklahoma, and they've all got a pleasant buzz on thanks to it.

Ezekiel is tucked against his side, and Cassandra is stretched over their laps, both quite soundly asleep. Leah's curled up in the armchair under a blanket, and Dinah is sitting on the floor in front of the loveseat as Rachel braids her hair for her; she's raided the linen cupboard and has made herself a nest of blankets and spare pillows on the floor. Thanks to Dinah, Ezekiel is now aware of the fact that Jacob is the one who taught his sisters how to French braid, and he is never going to live it down, ever. And he doesn't even mind that, because all three of his sisters positively adore Cassandra and Ezekiel both, and even if he can't visit the homestead in Oklahoma without getting his ass handed to him by his father, Dinah's promised to visit Portland every Christmas from here on out, Isaac Stone be damned. She's already called dibs on Ezekiel as her favourite brother-in-law, which had made the thief turn varying shades of red even as Jacob flushed with embarrassed delight. Leah and Rachel have more practical things like jobs and boyfriends to work around, but they've promised to come back, too, at least once a year.

"Merry Christmas, Jake," his baby sister says quietly; Rachel's finished braiding and is already asleep, snoring softly, and Dinah looks halfway to dreamland herself.

"Merry Christmas, Dinah." Jacob lets his gaze sweep around the living room once more before closing his eyes and settling back into the sofa, a smile on his lips.