Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

A/N One shot for the moment. May turn into something more.

31 October 2029

Pumpkin Lanterns adorn gardens, kids in various costumes are talking in excited voices over each other as they move from door to door seeking candy. There is a kid dressed up as a Storm Trooper. It was so good that she had a hard time seeing where the costume ended and the kid started. Her uncle Max would either be impressed with the costume or mad a kid was in possession of one better than his. She amused herself for a few moments at the thought of his various reactions. The smile soon slips off her face as she watches Storm Trooper kid lead a group of children up the garden path to the door of the house she has been watching. A tall man with black hair and a friendly face with an even friendlier smile opens the door. She watches as he squats down to the same level as the children to interact with them. The sound of childish giggling fills the air as he talks to them and she cannot help but wonder if he would have made her laugh like that too.

Her phone rings again as it has been ringing every couple of minutes for the last half hour, but she does not answer knowing who it is likely to be. She knows she is in deep shit and will likely be grounded from now until Christmas, but she doesn't care. She has a decision to make. She didn't arrange for her friends to tell lies to hide her plan and come all this way to chicken out especially not after the months it has taken her, but the self-assurance she had felt previously seems determined to desert her at the crucial moment. She had been thinking only of the two of them and she hadn't considered much else. Like the fact that today happens to not only be Halloween, but someone's birthday judging by the banners on the front door. She hadn't considered that he would have children of his own, but he does. Twin boys by the look of them when she'd seen their mother take them out trick or treating earlier. They had seemed hyper enough to her already. Adding candy to the mix seems like a bad idea. There is also the one thought she has been trying to ignore throughout her research and throughout her journey here. That maybe he wouldn't want anything to do with her. She is certain he doesn't know about her. 8 months ago she had been certain of her identity and her place, but that has been turned on its head. Lost in her thoughts she does not see the children disperse from number 12 and doesn't see his eyes find her.

The children's faces split with grins as their heavy bags full of candy weighed them down. They don't seem to mind as they turn and retreat from his door and back up the garden path. Looking up he notices the girl he had seen earlier that day. At first he had thought he was just being paranoid that she was watching their house, but as he'd been answering the door to various children she was to be found sitting on the park bench that faces his front door. She probably thought she was far enough away that no one in the house would notice her surveillance of them, but life had taught him to be especially paranoid. He'd found an area where people were happy enough to let him be, but he was under no illusions that there were still people out there who would hurt him or his family. 8 months ago the world saw fit to remind him of the ghost that still haunts his family and there are politicians willing to use that ghost to their own advantage.

He walks slowly down his path toward the park just across from his house. His concern now twofold. Concern of who this girl might be and concern, as a father, that she is out here on her own and has been for a while. He knows she is not local. She is a teenager who should have been in School and he wonders would they use a teenager to do their dirty work. He honestly wouldn't put it past them. She seems to be looking right at him in that moment, but he knows she hasn't seen him. She is far away, lost in her own thoughts. He stops just outside the garden path and considers for a second that she may not be alone. He does not cross towards the park immediately, but stays on his side of the road until he is parallel with the hedges inside the park gates on the opposite side of the road. He looks round at every person and every car and sees nothing.

Standing up quickly she makes the decision before she can talk herself out of it again. The children out trick or treating have moved further down the street and their voices are just echoes in the wind now. Out of the park, across the road and up the garden path. She finds herself standing where the children had been earlier. She rings the bell and waits. A minute or two passes and there is no answer. She is even more nervous now than before and can feel the tension in her own body. Her palms are sweating and her whole body seems full of nervous energy. She bounces from foot to foot unable to remain still. Still there is no answer and the thought that he'd seen her, worked out who she is and isn't opening the door because he doesn't want anything to do with her crosses her mind. That couldn't be possible because she is certain he knows nothing about her. But she isn't done arguing with herself as a voice inside her head points out that 'he is in so why isn't he answering the door'. Suddenly infuriated, she turns away from the door and aims a kick at one of the lanterns on her way out.

He continues around the perimeter of the park until he is satisfied that there is no surveillance team and enters it from the opposite side to approach where the girl is sitting. As he gets there he sees that she is gone. He scans the length of the park, but there is no sign of her. Turning back towards his front door his breath catches as he sees the girl standing there. Walking quickly he sees the agitation evident in her as she waits for the door to be answered. As he closes in, she turns to leave and he hears a grunt of frustration which she expels by kicking one of his lanterns over.

"Was that really necessary?", he asks.

The girl gasps and stops and though she meets his eyes, now seems unable to move.

The light shining from his porch and remaining lanterns allows him to see her more clearly. He'd noticed her red hair earlier, but lots of people have red hair. He notices her blue eyes. Lots of people have blue eyes too. There are some things you just know. There's not really any way to explain how you know. You just do once it is put in front of you and it is like you always have known. He knows that there can't be many with people with red hair and blue eyes would have any reason whatsoever to sit outside his house all day, watching him.

"What's your name?", he asks, but she does not answer. She appears to be shocked to find herself standing in front of him. A phone rings and he assumes it must be hers because it isn't his. She doesn't move.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

She shakes her head, "it'll be my mom or aunt Maggie and they'll be mad."

"Still, maybe you should answer so they know that you are ok."

"They don't know I've been looking for you. I…I…I hid it well. In one of the presents uncle Max gave me for my 16th birthday. Mom'll kill him if she realises." She lets out a nervous chuckle that gives Chris the impression poor uncle Max gets the blame for everything.

The girl still seems surprised to be standing in front of him. She just stares for a few moments taking in the sight of him as though trying to convince herself that he is real. Chris begins to feel a bit uncomfortable, but doesn't want to rush her.

She shakes her head suddenly as though trying to clear it of a fog. "Frannie, my name is Frannie Mathison", she says quickly. "And I think you're my brother", she finishes eyes wide and expressive, excited and fearful all at once.

Chris tries not to let the tumult of emotions he feels at the name Mathison show on his face. He supposes this is how some people feel whenever they hear the last name Brody and goodness knows he knows how it feels to be judged on the actions of a parent. He would never wish that on any child never mind one he suspects he might be related to.

"You better come in."