My first fanfiction. Enjoy. All rights to original owners - I own nothing but Katrina.

Katrina Jackson stepped out, into the humid air of Tulsa. She stretched her legs, glad to be off that damn train. It's a long way from New York to Oklahoma. She looked around, scanning the crowded station for her cousins Darrel, Sodapop, and Ponyboy. Very odd names. How had Darry gotten off so easy?

Just then, she noticed a guy that seriously looked like a pro wrestler. He was totally ripped, and from that swagger in his walk, she guessed he knew it, too. Katrina was good at judging people at first glance. In New York, it's the only way to survive. No doubt about it: Darrel Curtis. His eyes were colder than she remembered, and his features harder, but definitely him.

"Darry!" she yelled, throwing herself into his arms. He stiffened slightly, expecting a more formal greeting.

Katrina smiled. "What did you expect? A handshake and a how-is-your-day?"

He sighed. "Hey, Katrina, long time, no see."

She looked up at him. "Oh, please, that's the best you can do?" She said this with a friendly smile, so he knew she was kidding.

He cracked a smile. "Same old Kat, sassy as ever."

"You know it," she replied.

A snobby male voice from behind them said, "Aaaw, greaser love."

Katrina whirled around and glared at him. She was very proud of her glare. "I don't think you'd love a kick to the face, so just keep on walkin'." The rat-faced boy looked like he was trying to come up with some snappy retort (probably Katrina's comment was too complex for his undersized brain), but one of his little friends gave him a nudge that said, Not worth it. Keep going.

Katrina turned back around and made a disgusted face at Darry. "A Soc, I presume?" Darry had given her a brief run-down on how things worked in Tulsa.

He nodded. "Yeah. They make our lives pretty miserable around here."

"I can handle them rich-ass boys."

"Don't go picking fights, Katrina. They may be suckish fighters, but there are usually about ten of 'em."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I mean it, Kat. Pick your battles."

She looked thoughtful. "I can take care of myself. New York girl, ya dig?"

Darry decided to drop this particular issue for now. Little progress was being made. "So, you bring any bags?"

"Just one," Kat replied, lifting a medium-large suitcase.

"And I guess you want me to carry it?" he said.

She laughed. "You'd better, with those big muscles of yours. You goin' for a Superman look?" Darrel didn't reply as he lifted her bag into his car.

"Hop in," he said.

They drove through a little neighborhood, with houses of varying degrees of disrepair. After a minute of silence, Katrina spoke. "Listen Darry…I'm really grateful you're letting me stay with you. Of course I'll work to pay for myself, like I said. And I'll try not to raise your power and water bills too much."

Darrel glanced over at her. "Kat, it's no big deal. You needed help. We're happy to provide it. You're welcome here for as long as you like."

She tried to smile, but looked troubled. "You'll get tired of me before long. I'm not a great houseguest."

"No, I won't. What are you bugging about?"

"Well…it's just, I've never really asked for charity before. I've always paid my own way, with help from no one. This just feels weird. A blow to the pride, I guess."

"We're not giving you charity, Kat. We're helping you out, and you said you're going to pay for yourself, anyway."

"Ok. But really, thanks Darry."

"You're welcome, Katrina."

Finally, they arrived at a somewhat small, cozy-looking house. The paint was peeling a bit, but the structure looked strong. "Here we are," Darry said, parking the car. "A word to the wise before you go in: this house is constantly full of boys. Our gang hangs here a lot, and obviously even without that I got my two brothers. If you want privacy…you'll have to lock your door."

Katrina grinned, her beautiful green eyes seeming amused at his concerns. "Don't you worry 'bout that," she replied. "Growin' up on the streets doesn't make you very self-conscious. I'll be fine. That gang of yours here now?"

"Naw, I told 'em all we'd have some company today. You'll need to meet them tomorrow, but I figured if you saw them right away you might change your mind about wanting to stay with us."

"Are they that bad?"

"Only sometimes."

"Which one's the worst?"

Darry thought a minute. "Probably Dallas. He's a rude, mean one, but he's all right once you get to know him."

"Sounds charming."

"Just don't get on his nerves. You'll get along fine."

Katrina chuckled. "Duly noted. Let's go talk to the oddly-named brothers of yours." She had just stepped out of the car and gone a few steps when she heard the screen door open and slam shut.

"You're heeeeerrrreee!" an excited voice said.

Katrina laughed. "Hey, Sodapop,"

"You remember me!" the boy, who was indeed Sodapop Curtis, said as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Hard not to," said Kat. "You've always hugged me hard enough to bruise my ribs."

Sodapop grinned. "That's me."

"You don't get me all to yourself," Katrina joked, "Where's Pony?" Soda looked around, probably realizing he hadn't even made sure the door hadn't slammed on Ponyboy. Idiot. But he was an adorable idiot.

"Pony!" Soda and Kat called.

"Geez, you didn't even care I existed when that door hit me in the head, Soda." Ponyboy grumbled, emerging from the house rubbing his forehead.

"Pony!" Kat said, "how ya doin'?"

Ponyboy stopped and looked at Katrina for a while. He was always uncomfortable around pretty girls, and Katrina definitely qualified. Her silky-looking hair held a mix of blond, brown, gold, even some red. It fell to a bit past her shoulders. Her face looked hard and lean, like a dangerous wild animal. Katrina was not a girl to mess with. Oh, sure, her complexion was very pretty and sharply cut. There was just an extra dimension there that told everyone she met that she wasn't some daffodil. Though her emerald green eyes were pretty and dancing at the moment, he figured they could go stormy, cold, and mean in an instant. Her body was lean and slim, though well-muscled. He figured a guy like Dallas or Two-Bit would say she had a great body. It was true, she had some nice curves (not that Ponyboy took notice, since they were, after all, cousins). But Katrina herself was more proud of the advantage her lithe yet strong body gave her in a fight. She wore simple clothing: faded skinny jeans, a black shirt, and black combat boots with a slight heel. She looked dangerous. But pretty. Quite pretty.

During Ponyboy's observation of her, Katrina was staring at him with an amused expression. "Geez, Pony, take a picture. It'll last longer," she finally said.

Ponyboy looked up at her. Yes, she was taller than him. He found it depressing. "I was just thinking about how much you've changed since I saw you last," Pony replied. "

Yeah, people tend to look different after three years," she smart-mouthed back. Then, with an easy grin, she added, "Except you. You're still a tiny little thing." Ponyboy hesitated, seeming unsure whether or not she was serious. She dispelled his worries by saying next, "Kidding, Pony. You need to develop a sense of humor. Come here!" Katrina opened her arms wide, inviting him for a hug.

Hesitantly, Ponyboy stepped up and wrapped his arms around Katrina. BIG mistake. In a second, he felt her arms closing around him in a bear hug. It felt like someone was trying to squeeze him until his insides came out. "People…need…breathe…air." He managed to choke out.

Katrina smirked and released him. "Glory, Pony, you couldn't take that? What do you do when your big bear of a brother gives you a hug?" she said, indicating Darry, who almost smiled. Well, that was progress. Katrina tended to make people she was around either laugh or cuss. Call it one of her many talents.

For the next few hours, Katrina and the Curtises sat in their living room, getting acquainted. The Curtises did most of the talking, filling Kat in on their lives, how things worked on this side of town, and the member of their gang. Kat offered little about herself, mostly because she despised talking about herself. She hadn't had a happy childhood, living on the streets since she was eight. New York's West Side is not a friendly place for anyone, least of all a young girl. Katrina was seventeen now. She'd been stealing and fighting and sleeping on benches for nine years. She remembered half-starving, being stabbed and shot, and being frightened for her life almost daily. How do you put that into words?

Really, it was a miracle Katrina had retained any feeling at all. She was sassy, cold and hard, and didn't take orders from anyone. She wouldn't put up with any shit from any person alive. But still, she had a sense of humor. She could laugh and have fun. And once you won her loyalty, she would in turn be the most loyal (but not most gentle) friend you ever had.

Of course, Kat herself said none of this. The conversation went something like this:

"Kat, what about you? We've been doin' all the talkin'."

"Maybe I'm actually a mass murderer and I don't want you to know because I'm afraid you'll rat me out. Anything's possible."

"Come on, Kat. What was your life like?"

With a sigh, Katrina relented and said, "I grew up in New York's West Side. I have been primarily living on the streets since I was eight, with some temporary lodgings in thrown in there occasionally. I was arrested for the first time at age ten for robbing a grocery store. When I was fifteen I got my first job. I was a hooker."

She gave Darry a few seconds to get worked up about that last statement before laughing.

"Relax, Dar. I was a waitress. You always this intense?"

It was Soda who answered. "Pretty much." Darry shot him a dirty glance.

Katrina continued, "Then I lost my job a few months ago. Got arrested, boss said he didn't want me there anymore. Kinda silly, really. He knew about my record when he hired me. Since I couldn't pay my rent, landlord evicted me, and so on. By then I was damn sick and tired of livin' like an ant. So I dug up y'all's phone number and called. You were there for the rest."

Sodapop looked sorry for her. "Geez, Kat, none of us knew you had it that rough. I'm sorry."

Katrina shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I don't want pity from no one. Really, it wasn't quite as bad as it sounds. Once you get used to it, this house seems like luxury."

Ponyboy spoke for the first time in a few minutes. "Where were your parents during this whole thing?"

Immediately, Pony could tell he'd hit a touchy subject. Katrina's face just totally shut down. It gained a hard, mask-like expression, devoid of any feeling. She would give away nothing. Finally, she spoke. "My father was in New York. Most of the time, I would sneak into the kitchen at night for food. The rest of the time, I didn't go near that house."

"Not too nice?"

"You could say that. He hurt me pretty much whenever he saw me, and tried to rape me once."

No one could think of a response to that. In a way, they all felt guilty. They thought they had it bad, parents dying and all that. But Kat had it even worse: one of her parents was alive.

"What about your mom?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I left home the year she did. When I was eight."

Even though she hated pity, Soda felt like he had to say something. "I'm sorry, Kat."

She laughed, and it appeared to be a real laugh, not a fake, 'I'm-pretending-I'm-okay' laugh. She actually seemed amused.

"Don't be sorry," she said, "my mother was a bitch. I'm a whole lot better off without her, trust me." She stood. Noticing the worried looks directed at her from the three Curtises, she smirked and said, "Don't look at me like an old lady on her sickbed. I'm considerable more attractive than the average old lady, and I'm not sick besides. I know that by most standards, my life sucked, but I've kinda accepted that I have pretty damn bad luck. Anyway, now I'm kinda startin' over. Right?"

It was Darry who answered. "Yep. You never have to live like that again, Kat." She glared at him. He quickly added, "Not that you can't handle it. It's just that you shouldn't have to." Darry apparently understood Katrina pretty well. She hated people to think she was weak in any way. Say she can't fight, she'll flatten you. Call her dumb, she'll go out of her way to outwit you in any way possible. Katrina had never set foot in a school in her life, but she was really damn smart.

"We done with the reality TV interrogation?" she drawled, sounding bored. "I'm not much for those mushy moments."

Grinning at Sodapop, she added, "Just like I see you're not much for personal hygiene."

"Hey!" Soda protested, while Pony roared with laughter and even Darry let out a chuckle. "I can see you're not much for brains," Soda retorted.

Kat smiled slyly, and shot back, "No, I was actually telling the truth. You have a booger up your nose." You never saw anyone run faster for the bathroom mirror in your life.

"Kat," Darry said when he was able to speak after his laughter subsided, "you'll make our lives much more interesting around here."

"It's one of my many advantages," Kat replied. "You mind if I take a look around town? Want to get to know the place, and I don't want to be in the house when Soda finishes probing his nose and figures out I was lying."

Darry was extremely protective of his brothers and probably wouldn't have let them go by themselves. It was getting close to dark, after all. But Kat was used to her freedom. She was a seasoned New York street fighter, and probably wouldn't listen to him anyway. "I don't know…" Darry hesitated, uneasy with the idea.

"Come on," Katrina pressed, "I know how to fight. And I carry a switch." She reached into her pocket and flicked out a switchblade. It was shiny and razor-sharp. Katrina obviously kept it in good shape. "I'll be back in a few hours." Katrina turned to walk out the door, regardless of Darry's answer.

"Two hours!" he called after her.

"Maybe!" she called back.

Darry stared after her, shaking his head. Life was sure going to be different with that little fireball. Soda emerged from the bathroom, looking cross. "She lied," he said in a grumpy voice, plopping down on the couch.

"No kidding?" Darry answered sarcastically as he went to the stove to cook dinner. His little brothers liked their dinner early.

"Didn't she seem a lot like Dallas to you?" Ponyboy asked. "If Dallas was a girl and actually had a sense of humor, I mean."

Darry thought for a minute. "You're right Pone, they are kind of alike."

Sodapop spoke up, "We have got to get these two together! They'll either kill each other, or get along great! Although, the 'kill' option is probably more likely because Kat will sass him, and that will make Dally mad, so he'll yell at her, and she'll yell back, and he'll threaten her to stop and she won't listen. Then they'll hate each other's guts for the rest of their lives."

"Geez, little buddy, you got this all planned out," Darry responded as he stuck some mac'n'cheese in the microwave. He had to feed them, that didn't mean he had to feed them well. Katrina would hopefully be back in a few hours. He would make something a bit nicer for her.

She would be a part of their family now.

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