Ron Lancer sighed as he hung his keys on the hook next to his apartment door. "Wuthering Heights. I'm getting too old for this job." He muttered, reflecting on the day. Once again, Daniel Fenton had slept through half of English class, waking only long enough to stare about in confusion, make some excuse about needing a bathroom, and running out. He never had returned, and Lancer had been forced to make another report to the principal. He couldn't understand it; at the start of his freshman year, the kid had been just fine: quiet in class, perhaps a little unenthusiastic, but what 14 year old wasn't? And there were moments: around the CAT tests, when he'd retaken that English exam… The boy was just as bright as his sister. But something had changed, and now Danny Fenton seemed to live in another world, one that his teacher had no hope of reaching.
A quiet noise from the kitchenette startled Mr. Lancer out of his thoughts. He lived alone here, spending his evenings planning lessons, reading, and catching up on the news and the few decent TV on the air. It was probably nothing… but there is was again. A quiet clink, and a faint rummaging sound, as if someone was going through his cabinets.
Which, he discovered as he cautiously poked his head around the corner, was exactly what was going on. "King Solomon's Mines! What do you think you're - ?!" He exclaimed, grabbing the shoulder of the small person and spinning them around. The words choked in his throat as wide, scared blue eyes met his. The, and the face they were set in, were almost identical to those of the student he'd been thinking of moments earlier. "Daniel?" He asked, before he could stop the question. Obviously, however, this kid wasn't Fenton. For one thing, she was a she.
"I- I'm sorry! I just… well, um…" She glanced away, biting her lip as her jet black bangs hid those startlingly blue eyes. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly at the boy's name. "Do I look like I'm Danny?"
He almost said yes: she looked almost exactly like Fenton. The resemblance was disconcerting. She must be part of the family. But Jasmine and Daniel didn't have a little sister. Could it really just be coincidence?
She pulled away from him, and a more pertinent thought crossed his mind. "What are you doing in my kitchen, anyway? Who are you?"
A pause. "I'm hungry. I just wanted some food."
"Where do you live?"
"I can just leave-"
"I asked you a question."
She looked up at him through her bangs. "I… it's not important."
"You know, I could have called the police. I still can."
A look of panic. "No! I mean, I didn't take anything much. Just a few pieces of bread. I wasn't gonna steal anything…"
He knew, rationally, that he still ought to call the authorities on the little thief. She was clearly talented, since he'd had to unlock his door. But her similarity to his student was clouding his judgment. The teacher couldn't have a little girl arrested, even if she was breaking and entering.
"Look. Explain to me what you're doing here, while I make us some dinner. And then we'll decide what to do with you. But I'm hardly going to let you starve."
"…really?" She brushed the hair from her dirt-lined face, tilting her head up at him curiously.
"Yes. Really. Go ahead and wash yourself up in the sink there. Anything in particular you'd like?"
"Nuh uh. I'm not picky. And, um… thanks."
Mr. Lancer just turned, hiding the smile that formed on his face. Thanks. It was such a simple word, but one he'd come to appreciate more than ever, after his years of teaching.
"Oh. And my name is Dani."