AN: I really need to get a life...

Garry passed several people while entering the Gallery. It had been awhile since he had been there, but it was worth it. He was suppose to meet Ib, a quiet, calm nine-year old girl who he had been through some horror with. The horror happened here in the Gallery in fact, but he rather not dwell on that. As he passed the painting "Fabricated World" he felt someone tug on his coat. "Sorry!" was all he heard. He turned around seeing a young brunette woman (about his age) picked up a blonde child. The child buried his head in the crook of the girls neck. "I think he got a bit spooked," Garry slightly laughed. The girl nodded, "Sorry again." She apologized. "It's fine," he told her.

The girl gave him a awkward nod and walked away, the child, he noticed, watched him as his (what he presumed to be since they looked so similar) mother walked away with him.

Garry very soon found himself at the red rose sculpture.

He stared at the rose, blinking a couple times as he did. The rose reminded him a bit of Mary, despite it's color. Poor Mary. He stared at it a bit more before he felt small arms wrap around his waist. "Garry," a small squeaky voice said. Garry smiled, "Ib!" he said, turning around, crouching and hugging the girl.

"How's school?" was the first thing he asked. Ib frowned at him, her brownish-reddish eyes stared at him disapprovingly. "It's fine," she answered him. Garry stood up straight again, Ib's hand slipping into his own. "Oh! Before I forget," Garry let go of her hand for a moment and dug in the inside pocket of his coat. Fishing out her handkerchief, he handed it to her.

"I couldn't get out the bloodstain, sorry about that," he told her. The girl only nodded, "It's fine."

The pair of them walked around the Gallery, not really paying attention too the paintings. After awhile, they had gotten used to them, and both found it rather boring. But they stayed there too talk too one another.

"Hey Garry," he looked down at Ib at the sound of his name. "Yes Ib?" he asked. "Do you ever wonder what happened to Mary?" she asked him. Garry pursed his lips together, he had thought about it. And he wondered what really had happened to her. "Yeah," he replied after awhile. "Do you think she's still alive?" Ib asked, "Maybe. I mean, she did seem lonely. But I wouldn't want her to be dead!" he replied, hoping he didn't sound as cruel as he thought he did.

"I guess, yeah."

"Garry, when are we going to get macarons?" the little girl asked. Garry laughed, "Whenever you want to Ib, in fact here," he turned to the nearest person. "Excuse me, Miss?" he asked. The girl turned around, "Yes?" she asked. He recognized her as the girl with the blonde little boy. "Um, do you have a pen and a paper I can borrow?" he asked. "I have a pen, but no paper. Sorry," she handed him an indigo pen. "That's fine, thanks."

He bent down too Ib's level, "Give me your hand Ib," he asked. Ib put out her hand, there he scribbled his number. "Now you can call me whenever you want macarons," he smiled at her. Ib smiled back.

Garry stood back up straight and attempted to hand back the pen. "You can keep it, I have a lot of pens," the girl smiled at him. Again he noticed the kid staring at him from behind her legs, "Have a nice day," she told him when the boy tugged at her jeans. "Yeah, you too," he said as they walked away with a small wave.

"What are your favorite macarons?" Ib asked him, calling his attention back on her. "Hm, I really like the framboise ones. I don't really like citron ones," he told her. "The purple ones look like your hair," she comment.

He laughed, "They do, don't they?" Ib nodded.

It wasn't long till Ib's parents called her too their side. "Remember too call me Ib," Garry told her, earning a nod from the little girl as she ran to her parents. It was a fulfilling reunion.