Took a little creative license with some ages. 2 years after the book/movie Prospers 15/16. Bo's 8. And Pre-Marry-Go-Round Scipio is almost 18. Taken into account that Bo said he's '6 and ¼' in the movie and that Scip was 'nearly 16'.

This isn't one 'verse. it's a mesh of book and movie. Quotes taken from each are in italics… but you'll get it. They're memories.

I have this all planned out, but don't want to write it (When I should be trying to kick the writers block on my other stories) if no one likes it. So let me know.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot. And I'm getting no money for it either... shame. I could use some money.

Reverie [rev-uh-ree: Noun: a state of dreamy meditation or fanciful musing: lost in reverie.

Reverie

Prologue

It was nearing Autumn again when Prosper started having the dream. It was always the same one every night. Nothing ever changed, except maybe its length. And every time he'd wake up -whether on his own or by someone else- his breathing would be heavy and his heart racing.

But he wasn't dreaming now. He was standing in a doorway, very much awake, trying to stay out of the sudden afternoon rain.

He watched as the tourists rushed to get indoors, covering their cameras, and as the Venetians took out umbrellas, more used to the rains. Everyone wondering if the city would flood this time.

A young couple, newlyweds he thought, hurried by, laughing and not seeming to mind a rained out honeymoon.

A boy who couldn't be older then 10 was leisurely strolling by a business man as he waited for a vaporetto, his briefcase over his head. Prosper saw the boy bump into the man and knew what was happening. It wasn't to long ago that he lived of off stealing. Maybe not him personally, but from the money made by the Thief Lord.

The boy said a seemingly innocent scusi as he hurried off and Prop turned away.

The Thief Lord. The reason he was out in the rain. It had been 8 months since he'd last seen Scipio. Almost 5 since the last time he called. All Prosper knew was that he was ok, and that had come from Victor, who only had it on his answering machine.

It was like he just stopped existing.

Hunching his shoulders, Prosper stepped out of the doorway and made his way along the winding canals, having decided the rain wasn't about to let up anytime soon. The way was still ingrained in his head, and he hardly paid attention until he was standing in front of the Stella.

He hadn't been back there since that night almost two years ago. He wondered, as he slowly made his way to the side door, if there were kids living there again. Or had they been special because they had Scip?

He didn't think there would be anyone.

He automatically reached for the bell; pulling it twice, pausing, and pulling it again. The things that stick with you, he thought, realizing what he did.

'Password?'

'Come on, Riccio, you know we never remember the stupid password.'

No one answered; he was only slightly surprised to find he already knew that. So he tried the door. It opened easily. He bolted it behind him, still out of long past habit and made his way in the darkness, arms out to the side and feet shuffling, until he came to the main room. There he flipped the breaker, having watched Scipio enough times to know where it is.

It looked like he remembered. Fabric still hung around the balcony, the swing was still up, and there, on the white board, pushed up against the stage, was Victor's Promise.

'Now do you believe this? We'll have to catch him again right away.'

He took the stairs up to the top balcony and made his way to where him and his brother used to sleep. All the mattresses were still there, even Moscas hammock. Dottor Massimo must not have cared enough to have it cleaned out.

But there was nothing personal anywhere.

No one was living there anymore. But he knew that. Even ringing the bell and waiting. He knew no one had lived there since he did.

And he was glad of that. The Stella had been theirs. Their Star-Palace. It could never be anyone else's. That may have been selfish of him to think, but he didn't care. It was his and Bo's first home in Venice. The first safe place to sleep they had since running away. The first place he met Scipio.

'Hi Prop! Sorry it got so late.'

'One of these days you're going to scare someone with that mask. How'd you get in here? We bolted everything really well this time.'

'You should know by now that I can get into any place I want to.'

"What am I doing here?" Prosper wondered aloud, but only to shake off the memory. He knew why he was there. He dreamt of Scipio again last night. That makes two weeks he's had the same dream now.

He needed to be at the Stella. To see it, to remember it. Scipio was here in his dreams. Waiting for him.

But the Thief Lord wasn't there. Only the mice and memories where. He walked back down more quickly. It was getting late, and Ida would be worried.

But before he left he touched the moth eaten curtain, for Bo.

Like it? Hate it? Let me know. That was just the prologue, the chapters will be longer. (Hopefully!)