AN: Okay, I'm writing yet another FOP fic, but this one is already figured out pretty much. Um, if you hate OCs, then leave now. Enjoy, or whatevs . . . I don't really care. Yes, all the major real characters are in it, even Timmy. Saber is very . . . well, I'm expecting mixed reactions.
Saber swaggered through the city with ease. She knew this place better than most kids knew their suburbs. She noted a group of tourists, analyzing carefully. Hmm . . . the old man seemed promising, but her better instincts told her to avoid him. The man traveled in a pack of much stronger men.
Happy New Year, she thought to herself bitterly as she glanced at the big screen TVs in the Radio Shack's display window. Everyone of them was turned to the ball dropping. She eyed the random drunks with disgust. Sure, she knew drunks. If she wanted to get technical, she lived with drunks and druggies. But these rich people were stupid to roam her street at this time of night drunk.
She grinned to herself, deciding she'd found her prey.
"Hey mister," She whined, playing up her youth.
A few looked back at her, then dismissed her. One man in particular eyed her. She noted his green hair in slight contempt. He was a little old to be punk. What was he, 28?
"Can I help you?" He didn't seem alert, yet he didn't appear to be drunk, either.
She sniffled, feeling tears fall. Maybe if she ever got off the streets she'd become an actress. "I l-lost my mommy and d-daddy." Her bottom lip quavered.
He seemed empathetic of her plight. "Do you want me to help you find them?" He asked kindly. Yes! She thought in victory.
"Uh-huh," She nodded, tears creating dirty ridges on her cheeks. She laughed to herself. He must think she was really young, probably 6 or 7. In fact, she was 10, still young by his standards, she realized, but not by her own. Grab his hand, she commanded, then obeyed. "I was with them at the park," She said softly.
"Uh . . . maybe they're still there?" He seemed a little hesitant now.
"I'm a-scared of the dark, mister. Can you come wiff me?" She added a few little kid vocabulary words.
"Sure!" He seemed really trusting. He's not from here, she realized. She wasn't really surprised, though he didn't look like much of a tourist.
"It's dis way," She led him towards a park, deserted of course as it was a little past midnight.
"Uh . . . your parents took you to a park at night?"
"Uh-huh," She smiled at him, then acted like she was glancing around the park. "Actually, mister, my parents said I should go home if I get lost."
"Do you want me to walk with you or . . ."
"No thank you," she smiled, swiftly hugging the man. "Thank you for helping me," She murmured, voice muffled. The man didn't notice her hand in his coat pocket.
"No problem," He said simply. "Bye," He turned to go.
"Good night," She watched him leave, then eyed the wallet with joy. She'd done it. What a moron! Typical male.
There wasn't much money, but enough. No credit cards either, but there was some weird ass stick with a star on top. Probably part of a costume for some weird party or something.
The man didn't get thirty feet before noticing his wallet was gone. He turned around quickly. "Hey!" He shrieked.
Shit, she ran, hurtling a parked car. Shit shit shit shit shit she couldn't get the word out of her head.
Where were the others when she needed them? Under the bridge maybe, but she doubted it in this weather.
"Stop," the green haired man called out. He seemed desperate.
"Sorry mister, I have to go home now," She called sweetly. She didn't know what compelled her to say that. "You gotta quit following me now."
"Come on, give me back my wallet!" He was practically pleading.
"I don't have your wallet," she replied.
She managed to escape down an alley, then ended up in a better area of town. Starbucks central, she called it. A familiar looking man grabbed her.
"You little bitch," He hissed. She knew without looking that it wasn't the green haired man.
"Do I know you?" She asked coldly.
He wouldn't relinquish her arm. In fact, he pulled up, levitating her off the floor. "You slut," He pulled her closer to his face, a scent of booze filling her nostrils. "Give me back my wallet and I might let you go."
"Wallet?" She asked. In truth, she couldn't remember this man or his wallet.
"Yes, wallet. Maybe if your kind learned the English language . . ."
This prompted Saber to kick him in the shin. It worked . . . for about two seconds. The man scooped her up again, squeezing her arm tighter.
"Perhaps we should involve the cops. Who do you think they'll believe? Me or a little whore like you?" He whipped out a cell phone, setting a finger from his free hand over the buttons precariously.
"Get off of me!" she struggled.
"Let go of her!" Another familiar voice met her ears, only a much less intimidating one. It was that green haired guy, back again.
The man looked at him with slight anger. "Who the hell are you?"
"He's . . ." Saber started.
"Her father," He lied simply.
The man laughed. "Right. Explain this to me . . . how the hell can you be her father?"
"What?" The green haired guy looked at him quizzically. "Haven't you heard of adoption?" Saber resisted laughing. That would be the only way the man could be her father. After all, she was a Puerto Rican/Korean mix, and he was of the pasty brigade.
"Well, your daughter has something that belongs to me." The man had managed to put Saber down. "Unless you want police involvement, I suggest it is returned."
"Honey," the green haired man frowned in disapproval, "Do you have something that belongs to him?"
"Sorry daddy," She said in a sad tone. She grabbed her backpack. "What color was your wallet?" She chirped.
The man looked surprised. "Black leather."
She searched the contents of her backpack, eventually discovering the alleged wallet. "Here you go sir. Pleasure doing business with you."
He wrenched to wallet from her grip, grumbling about immigration laws or something as he left.
"Well," the green haired man slumped his shoulders slightly. "That was . . . " he couldn't come up with a word. "I'm Cosmo," He said instead.
"Good for you . . ." Saber eyed him suspiciously, ready to run again. She noticed his eyes were the same shade of lime as his hair.
"So . . ."
"Listen, I bet you're a nice guy and all, and I guess thanks or whatever," She was no longer speaking in her little kid voice. In fact, her voice was very hard and, probably to his ears, cold, "But I really didn't need you help. In fact, I just lost a lot of money because of your so-called 'help'. So, yeah, bye." She walked away calmly.
"Wait!" He grabbed her shoulder. "Can I have my wallet back?"
She actually smiled, but had the courtesy not to laugh out loud. "No."
"Please . . ." he groped his mind for a name. "What's your name again?"
"I never told you it," She called back over her shoulder. For a second she felt bad for the guy. After all, he did help her escape from that freaky guy. He could have been a rapist or something.
Damn conscience, she thought bitterly. "Here," She tossed the wallet back. "Have a good vacation, Cosmo," She kept walking.
"Wait!"
"I gave you your damn wallet, now fuck off!" She shrieked, watching him shrink back slightly.
"Happy New Year," He said quietly, slipping what little money he had into her unexpecting hand. He turned to go.
"My name's Saber," She called out to him. "At least, that's what they call me," She explained when he turned around. She grinned, slightly forced but it was still something. "Maybe I'll see you around here some time."
"Sure!" He seemed a little too eager to meet with his almost-mugger, but she let it slide. He didn't look like he was a sexual predator. He seemed too innocent.
God, she had to stop letting her guard down. But, if letting her guard down could get her a real bed for a night, without having to give anything up for it . . .
"So," She tried to sound as if she were making conversation, "Are you staying at a motel tonight?"
"No," he said lightly.
Clueless. She smiled sweetly. "Lucky you. If only I had a home of my own to stay at. I mean, I don't mind sleeping on the street, worrying about someone kidnapping me. And I guess rummaging for food in dumpsters isn't so terrible." She started hamming it up, allowing a few tears to escape her chocolate eyes. "A-and so what if Johnny, my bestest friend and only protector was k-killed last Sunday in a gang war. So what if Diego says tonight he'll sell me out to a creepy old guy to get some more weed. I'll survive," She sniffled.
Not only did she not know anyone named Johnny or Diego, but she'd never even witnessed a gang war. Sure she knew they happened. Probably all the time. She just couldn't be bothered by their stupidity.
The oblivious man's mouth seemed to be hanging on a hinge. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing (a good touch, she realized, as it gave her a more nervous look). "Why don't you live with your parents?"
"They're dead," she said simply. Might as well be. "And my sister, Chloe, kicked me out."
I don't have any sisters.
Cosmo seemed to be debating struggling with some inner conflict. "Well . . . uhm . . ."
Bring on the raw, female emotion, baby! Saber's bottom lip trembled and she whimpered slightly. "Well, I'm going to go back to the bridge. Hopefully Diego isn't there yet and I'll have time to grab a blanket or something maybe . . ."
"Wait," He said softly, almost questioningly. "Don't . . . uh, I mean, you don't have to stay under the bridge tonight. Aren't there, er, shelters?"
"You mean like the pound?" Saber sobbed, nearly incomprehensive. "I don't wanna –hic- be put to sl-le-eep!"
"They wouldn't . . ." She wouldn't stop crying, throwing Cosmo into complete panic. "Uh . . . you can stay at my place tonight!" He said it so quickly he didn't realize what he was offering.
"R-really?" She sniffed.
"Uh . . . sure! Yeah! That's what guest rooms are for, right?"
Tears immediately stopped flowing. "Great! Hope you have some cereal. I didn't have breakfast and I'm starved!"
AN: Okay, so it's a bit rushed, but the next chapter will be up soon. Think of the reactions! And how's he gonna sneak a human into the castle without her finding out what he is? Dude, what the 'f' is Wanda gonna do?
Um . . . stay tuned, I guess.