Disclaimer- I do not own The Thief Lord.

Clarify: Scipio is fifteen in this fanfic; I'll probably get to that is later.

Note: Two years after The Thief Lord. Not a sequel to my other fanfic.

Christmas Day

Scipio, Prosper, Ida, Victor, Mosca, Riccio and Hornet sat down at the dinner table. They ate a good meal, cooked by Lucia before she went home to be with her own family. It was a wonderful day.

They all exchanged presents. Everyone had a good time. And finally, Victor, Scipio, Mosca and Riccio went home.

Scipio couldn't remember having Christmases like this when he still lived with his father. His father was usually doing something, so he ate dinner with the maids. They didn't usually speak English, so it was usually quiet. His father would give him something expensive that Scipio didn't want, and Scipio would kick it under his bed with all the other unwanted Christmas and birthday presents he'd gotten over the years. Once he got older he started selling them on the internet. His father always told him he should learn to make his own money.

Once Scipio was back in his room again, he tried to fall asleep. Snow started to fall and, deciding he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon, walked over to his window to watch it. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a girl sitting on a bench, looking out toward the canal. She was covered with snow, but she didn't seem to mind.

Scipio crept down the stairs. Victor was asleep in his room. Scipio pulled on his coat and walked toward the girl. "What are you doing out here?" He asked her. "Don't you know it's nearly midnight? On Christmas Day?"

The girl turned her head. She hadn't noticed he was there. She didn't answer him.

"Aren't you cold?" Scipio asked. The girl was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

"Not really," the girl answered him. "Coats are for wimps." She spoke Italian well, but her accent was rough. Scipio doubted that she was from around there.

"That's funny, because your lips are turning blue."

The girl shot him a glare. "Why don't you leave me alone? Go home."

"I live in that apartment right there," Scipio said, pointing. "I can see you from the window."

The girl got up and started to walk away. She took a clumsy step and fell face-first onto the ground.

"Are you okay?" Scipio asked her.

"I'm fine." Scipio lent her his hand. She took it. "Thanks."

Scipio saw a thin, white scar about half an inch long along her hairline, half way between her eye and her ear. He noticed she was pretty, even in the dark. Not the super-model type, but above average.

"What's your name?"

"Angelina. And yours?"

"Scipio."

"Cute. You're named after a general."

"Are you a tourist?"

"Um… No," Angelina answered like she was unsure. That was odd. "I live on the other side of town."

"Have you lived here long? Your Italian sounds off."

Angelina's eyes widened and she turned around and ran. Scipio tried to fallow her, but she disappeared, as if she was never there.

"This has been a very strange night," Scipio murmured to himself as he went back inside.

Angelina was sitting back at her home. She was scared. She figured if that Scipio guy could figure out she wasn't from around there, so could other people. Including the person she was running from. She would have to work at it.

She had gone through so much already, changing her name, fleeing America, finding a place to live. And she was all alone.

Angelina lived in a run-down house in the worst part of town. It was for sale by the owner, but no one wanted it, and the owner only came to check on it on Wednesdays. So, as long as Angelina was careful, she was safe. Hopefully.

And most of all, she didn't want to run into Scipio again. She could hit herself for telling him her real name. And she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. He was cute.

She curled up on the floor in a closet with a blanket. It was so cold. There was no heating, and she had no money.

Angelina heard a noise at the door. Someone was there. She heard glass shatter. It was pretty easy to guess what was going on. The house was being robbed.

Angelina peeked out of her closet. She saw a shape enter the room. Didn't he know the house was for sale? And most of the valuables were already moved out? He started to take everything. His flashlight beams shined around the room. The person started pulling up the carpet and unscrewing the light bulbs, which Angelina hadn't been able to use because the power was shut off. He went back out of the room and Angelina reached for the closest thing that she could hit with. It was the lamp, which occupied the closet with her. She was terrified for her life.

The burglar entered the room and Angelina heard him come toward the door. He opened the door and… Whack! She hit him. He fell down and Angelina, afraid she killed him, made sure he was breathing. Then she dashed out the back door, afraid that the burglar would wake up.

She needed a new place to hide. She looked around. What a wonderful way to end Christmas day, she thought to herself, sarcastically. She ran far enough away that she couldn't see the little house she resided for two weeks, and kept running. She came to a building that was unused. She heard that it was a theater, and at one point it was supposed to be made into a supermarket. The plan was abandoned by the owner, and now it was empty. The sign said 'Stella Theater'. It wasn't lit up anymore.

Angelina looked inside. It was dark, but it was big. She loved it. She could easily imagine herself living there for a while. She saw a large square taken out of the curtain's fabric. That's odd, she thought.

Angelina went to the safest place she could see and curled up. She valued the last bit of warmth in her body and gently fell asleep.