A/N: I love this book series, and felt I simply had to do something for this fandom! Now i'm sitting with 10K+ in my docs and a lot of none-written steven universe works, and this si the first taste: The first story of how miss Peregrine came to gain a new charge. Everyone say hi to Claire with her golden curls! ;)

Claire Densmore

The ringing of the doorbell was peculiar to Alma. Not that she wasn't used to peculiare things, she certainly was, but almost none came to knock on her door, even fewer bothering to actually use the doorbell.

Alma felt secretly pleased whoever was at the door was polite enough to do so.

"Who's a the door, Miss P?" Alma's oldest charge, Emma Bloom, a suspicious fifteen year old with fire abilities, asked. Alma just shock her head.

"I don't know, Miss Bloom. We were certainly not expecting any visitors." She tried to keep her composer in front of her charges, but secretly she felt worried. Unexpected company was rarely good company.

Taking a deep breath, Alma opened door, looking out at the front porch, only to be met with a peculiar sight.

Standing on her porch was a blonde, blue eyed woman, probably in her early twenties to judge off her small stature and youthful face. The woman was dressed in a thin dress and a peach coloured trench coat, half of which was partly hiding a small object swept in a pink blanket.

"A-are you Miss Peregrine?" The woman stuttered, soaked and freezing despite the warm summer weather, pressing the small object closer to her heaving chest.

"Alma LeFay Peregrine, yes. And who are you?" Alma offered a hand for the young woman to shake, the wrong one of the other two hands grabbing onto hers and hesitantly shaking it.

"M-my name i-is Emmeline. Emmeline Densmore. A-are you the woman who take care of peculiare children?" Emmeline let go of Alma's hand, putting her own hand back against the object swept in the pink quilt. It was quite big and lumpy, and Alma had a nagging suspicion telling her that she knew was hiding underneath the fabric.

"Yes, I do. Why?" She asked, in all politeness answering the woman's inquiry.

"You got to take her! Please! Her names Claire, and she's my sister." As soon as the words of confirmation left Alma's mouth, Emmeline removed the object from her chest and pushed it against Alma's instead.

Unfazed by the other woman's rush, Alma carefully wrapped her arms around the shivering body she now knew for sure was hiding among the blankets. "What's her name? On what premise should I accept her into my establishment?" Even as Alma asked these questions, she knew, deep within her heart, that she was never giving this child back to the sister who had pushed it into her arms. It was to stay with her, no matter the answer she received.

"Her name is Claire Densmore. And You need to take her, because I can't keep her. She had a brother, you see, and he...he was eaten. By something invisible. Please, you got to believe me, I can't risk it eating her too! Please…they told me you take care of people like her. Protect them." The woman was crying, large terrified eyes moisturising as she begged for her sister's life to a stranger.

What about you? Alma thought, realising that the only way she could possibly made it into the loop was by being peculiare herself.

"I will take care of your sisters." Alma said calmly, preparing to ask if she had any plans for her own safety, and if necessary explain why it would be of concern. She had the feeling the girl knew very little of peculiarities. "But what about yourself?"

"Me?" Emmeline looked confused. "I can't stay. I got a family back home. I only came here for her...because these beasts were after her…" Her eyes started to water, her voice trembling. "She's all I have left."

"But…" Alma started, startled and confused at what the girl was saying, but never getting a chance to explain.

The girl was already fleeing, running down the hill with both her dress and trench coat flying in the air. Alma stood helpless on the porch and watched her disappear, a sense of dread settling inside her as she realised she was never going to see the woman again.

When the woman disappeared out of sight, Alma turned around, ready to march back inside and close the door behind her. She remained a stoic impression for as long as possible, in case any of her other charges would be near by. It seemed as though they had moved upstairs when she went out to talk to the visitor.

"Claire Densmore " Alma allowed the name to slip over her tongue, tested the way it settled in her mouth. It felt good, satisfying somehow. Peeling off a corner of the pink quilt to get a good look at her new child, Alma was faced with a head full of golden princess curls, falling down the young girl's head down to her shoulders like golden rain. "A princess" She breathed, glancing around to make sure no one heard her.

The girl herself, was petite. Probably six or seven years old but not much bigger than a big five year old. She was dressed in a coat and dress, both of which was obviously too small, and when Miss peregrine opened the package made of fabric in which she'd been put, she discovered that she was sleeping.

"Claire with her golden curls" Alma continued to muse, liberated by the fact that she was alone, and stroking her hand against the golden hair on the back of the girls head. Suddenly she felt something biting down on her finger. The pain was immediate, intense, and she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Miss?" The girl's voice was a mere whisper, still heavy with sleep as she cracked open a heaven's blue eye.

"Yes darling?" Alma answered, momentarily distracted by her bleeding finger. What ever bit her had hurt it severely, and she would surely be forced to keep it wrapped up for weeks.

"Please leave my back mouth alone. It's only for food." Though newly having woken up, the girl sound important and serious in a way only small children could, and Alma cracked a smile.

"I will, Miss Densmore. And welcome to Miss Peregrine's home for Peculiar children"