Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Sopranos characters.

Summary: (Sequel to Through My Fingers) "Silvio." The look in her eyes frightened me. Swarming in those beautiful depths was the thing I had hid from my whole life. "We can go far away, far away from everything," she whispered. "We can have a new life. A better life."

I recomment you read "Through My Fingers" before reading this one. This is the same story as "Through My Fingers," but it is from Silvio's point of view, not Meadow's. I thought it would be harder to write from a man's point of view, but I was wrong. Not only was it easier, but it was a lot more fun. This story ended up being twice as long, and in my opinion, a better story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have loved writing it. It will be seven chapters long.

My mind buzzed, and the Sopranos' kitchen became a dizzying blur of swirling colors. "Sil," I heard in the distance, but I couldn't clear the foggy haze that surrounded my brain. Teach her? Guitar?

"What do you say?" Suddenly a violent force took a hold on my feet and yanked me back to earth, making my head throb painfully. When my blurred vision cleared, I stared into the intense face of Tony Soprano. My eyes met his large, enthusiastic ones.

How could I say no? I really had no valid excuse to refuse. And besides, was it really worth it to bear the brunt of his unstable, violent temper? I mean, he could be unreasonable at times, but when it came to his daughter, he was a landmine waiting to explode.

"Sure, Ton," I shrugged.

"Great!" he grinned, and extended his arms. He grabbed me and held me in a firm hug, which I returned with equal enthusiasm. It wasn't as if I had a choice anyway.

Tony released me, wearing that silly, crooked smile and bellowed, "Meadow!"

I looked at the stairs above, expecting her to start running down any minute. But within a few seconds, she appeared from around the corner, scurrying towards us. That's when I began to wonder—how did she get down here so fast if she was supposedly upstairs in her room? Wait a minute… the girl had been listening to our entire conversation, right around that corner. Was she really that eager? So I had the advantage then. She was up to something. But what?

Tony didn't seem to notice anything, which didn't surprise me. He gazed at her with smug, fatherly pride. "Good news, Mead." She cocked her eyebrow and gave him that playful little smirk he loved. That smirk could get her pretty much anything she wanted. Meadow—Daddy's little princess.

Her eyes were firmly fixed on her father. Was she pretending to ignore me? Why would she? I thought she was supposed to be bouncing off the walls with enjoyment. Yea… she was definitely up to something.

"Silvio would love to teach you guitar."

And then her big, pretty eyes shifted to me. I kept my features in a neutral expression and looked her over, slowly and deliberately, trying to make her uncomfortable. For what reason, I didn't know. But she regarded me with an inquisitive expression. What the hell could she be thinking? With Meadow, it was nearly impossible to guess.

She was born as an adorable baby with huge doe eyes and an endearing smile. As a young child, she possessed the uncanny ability to persuade her parents to shower her with gifts and to forgive her misdeeds with gentle, and in my opinion, pathetic scolding. And then she became a brilliant, cunning student, mastering the art of careful manipulation. Presently, she was a beautiful young woman and a crafty adult. Even though she reminded me of my own daughter in some ways, Meadow was light years ahead. She was like her father, except even more daring and shrewd. He was wrapped around her clever little finger.

And that A.J.—he was a pussy. There was no other way to describe what him. He would never be the boss, would never even be able to join the mafia. He wouldn't survive an hour. The violence and pressure would make him crack and fly off the edge. But Meadow. Talk about a person teeming with potential! And Tony knew it. Perhaps that realization was one of many sources of his raging frustrations and unpleasant temperament.

And a beautiful young woman she had molded into! Meadow Soprano had certainly grown up…with her bronzed skin and gorgeous chocolate eyes that glinted gold in the sunlight. And her body…

God dam it! I wasn't even gonna go there.

But why in fuck's name did she have to be wearing such skimpy clothes? Those little shorts and tank top exposed perfectly silky tan skin, and those little white socks…

Our eyes had been locked for some time now, and she had to be wondering what was going on. I guess I had never looked at her like that before, with such obvious interest. But of course, she would never suspect what was truly racing through my mind. But then again, she wasn't stupid.

My blood ran cold as I fought the smirk creeping to my lips. She shivered. It was so slight, so discreet, that no one would ever catch it. Except for me.

Was she frightened of me? Had my incessant staring creeped her out? But I was her Uncle Silvio, one of her protectors. No matter what I desired, I would never hurt her or corrupt her. For one thing, her dad himself was a force to be reckoned with. Adult or no, she was his daughter. Daddy's little girl.

But what if she wasn't scared? What if…

"Thank you, Uncle Sil." Her response startled me like a bucket of ice cold water being poured on my head. Her voice. It was sugary-sweet, too sticky to be real. Her lip-glossed lips turned up in a smile that was cartoonishly huge for her small face.

So she was trying to cover up her nervousness, huh?

That kid never ceased to amaze me.

I dipped my shoulder and smiled slightly. "No problem, kid." No problem at all.

Thank God Tony stepped in at that precise moment, because the sexual tension that thickened the air was starting to make the room stuffy and my pants a tad uncomfortable.

"All right! Great!" he announced, pounding me on the back hard. I stifled the urge to glare at him. He grinned at me goofily. "When does she start?"

Okay, Sil, time for your boss-pleasing act. Pretend to think real hard.

Instead of answering Tony, I turned to Meadow. "Twice a week?" I asked.

She nodded quickly, without much thought or hesitation. So she was nervous after all. Okay, now what time… what time?

"Okay. How 'bout an hour long…Wednesday and Saturday?"

She suddenly coughed with what seemed like a dry throat. Yep. Definitely nervous. "That's great," she answered, rubbing her neck.

"Once o'clock okay?" I asked, studying her reaction. She nodded quickly. "Definitely."

I smiled then, tried to relieve her obvious tension. "All right."

At that, she visibly relaxed, seemed reassured.

I turned and looked at Tony, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. He just patted me on the back again. So he was in the happy, fatherly mood. That was good for me. I smirked inwardly, scolding myself for being so evil.

I extended my arms and stepped towards Meadow. She trembled slightly and then suddenly sank into my arms. I held her firmly, holding her back with my rough hands. I marveled at the softness of her skin there, trying not to stroke it. And her perfume—it was slight but made her smell like an angel. My head swooned as she settled against me.

Okay. That was enough.

I pulled back reluctantly.

The first thing I noticed was her heavy breathing and flushed cheeks. So I had won round one.

"See you tomorrow, kid," I rasped, trying to control the increasingly dangerous situation in my pants.

Her brown eyes were glazed over to my delight. Her lips formed a small, jumpy smile. "Okay Uncle Sil," her voice quivered.

She turned to Tony and kissed his cheek gently. He beamed at his little princess with pride.

"Bye sweetie." "Bye, Dad."

She turned her back without looking at me again and walked calmly to the stairs, disappearing from view.

I stared at the spot where she had vanished for some time.

It had begun.