AN: Nowhere (that I know of) is this ship canon, but I saw a hint of it in a fanwork, and decided to run with it. There's also a bit of the original 1965 series mixed in with TAG.

The title of this story comes from a poem by Emily Dickinson.

Rowing in Eden

By The Lady Razorsharp

One: Little Sister

When Tanusha Kyrano is eight years old, she accompanies her father to a funeral.

The funeral is for the wife of one of her father's closest friends and business associates; a young wife and mother, gone years before she ever should have. Tanusha has never been inside a church this beautiful or this big, and as she walks into St. Patrick's Cathedral in downtown New York City, she knows that this is a place where Heaven meets Earth. In this place, she is sure that the the marble angels will come to life, reach down, and carry Lucille Tracy up to God. She spends the whole service watching them, waiting for them to move, but they never do. By the time the service is over, she's made up her mind that the angels won't move while she's looking.

After the service, her father and his friend shake hands, then embrace for a long time. When they step apart, Tanusha notices that her father's friend, Mr. Tracy, is crying. She isn't sure how she feels about a grown-up crying, so she edges closer to the three Tracy boys, studying them as they stand near their father in their dark suits and polished shoes.

"Hi," she ventures. "My name's Tanusha."

The oldest nods, and the redhead gives her a little wave, but the third manages a small smile. "Hi. I'm Virgil." He points to the other boys. "That's my brother Scott, and my brother John."

Tanusha dips her chin. "How do you do?" She frowns. "Papa told me there were five of you."

"There are," Virgil confirms. "Except Gordon has the flu and Alan's a baby, so they're with my Grandma."

"I'm sorry about your mamma," Tanusha says. She does not remember her own mother and has a hard time imagining what it must have been like to have one, but she is still sorry.

Virgil looks at the floor. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replies. "Do you want to hold my hand?"

Virgil thinks about it for a moment, then grasps her fingers. They stay that way all afternoon, two motherless children navigating the world (or at least a funeral reception) together.

She sees more and more of the Tracy boys after that sad day, and over time they accept her into their tightly knit band. Alan is only two, and can't say 'Tanusha', so he calls her 'Tin-Tin.' No one knows where he's come up with that, but it sticks, and until she goes away to school, that's who she is. Tin-Tin, scuffing her knees and spraining her fingers in games of Tracy-rules kickball. Tin-Tin with towheaded Alan toddling behind until she scoops him up and carries him on her hip. Tin-Tin, getting into a fight with hotheaded eldest brother Scott, walking away triumphant with clothes in disarray and a shiner purpling one of her olive-green eyes.

When she returns from her four-year stint at boarding school, 'Tin-Tin' is gone, but she doesn't feel like a 'Tanusha', either. After he and his brothers pick their jaws up off the floor (she figures it has something to do with gaining curves and losing the braces), it's Virgil who suggests 'Kayo.'

And so she has been content to remain. She's still the sister, but now she's a partner as well, the unofficial six to their five. They all love her; she's family and has been for as long as half the group can remember.

So why, she wonders, is she lying awake in the middle of a freezing Siberian night, drenched in sweat despite the blizzard that howls outside, unable to shake the phantom touch of Virgil Tracy's hands on her body, sliding and caressing and moving where they will? And not just his hands, she muses, rolling over to turn on the bedside lamp; she can't stop thinking of his mouth on hers, on the spot just at the edge of her collarbone, hot and wet and trailing down, down, making her gasp and writhe and bend her body into his, demanding more-

Kayo shudders, her skin rising into gooseflesh. She's being ridiculous. She needs sleep. She needs to focus.

But oh, she needs him, too.