Family (n): A group of people affiliated by recognized birth, marriage, co-residency, and/or shared consumption … This can occur through the sharing of material substances, the giving and receiving of care and nurture … and moral and sentimental ties.

She had her beautiful red hair tucked back into its prim bun, with only one strand loose that she was twirling and untwirling around her thumb. Her green eyes were bright and darting behind her glasses, and Leonard wondered about that as he flipped open the locks. Her other hand was in a fist around the strap of her backpack, and she was slightly hunched, her feet pointed together. How much of that body language was real and how much of it was for show?

All of it, he realized then, drawing open the door, wand clenched in his free fingers. All of it was probably for show. But still, clever disguise or not, Leonard wasn't fooled. He knew exactly who was really under there.

"Scarlett!" Leonard locked both his arms around her shoulders, flattening her hands and face to his chest. She dropped her backpack on his foot and let out a gasp.

"Sacred bovine- Leonard, PERSONAL SPACE! What even is your neurological damage?"

He stopped hugging her, but slid his hands down her arms to curl around her fingers. No reason to take unnecessary chances, even if (or perhaps because) she was adorable. He gave her one of his greatest gap-tooth grins. "After you and Max ran away from the houseboat, I thought I'd never get to see you again. And that would have made me very sad. How did you even find me? You didn't take your suitcase."

She used her shoulder to adjust her glasses back into place, tightening her nails in his skin. "You do recall that aerial shot of your backyard you posted on Facebook three years back?"

"I have a Facebook?"

Scarlett allowed her pupils to circulate about her eyes. She tried again to pull her wrists from his grip, and didn't succeed. "You're Friends with your mom. I remembered what you said concerning her on the houseboat and I confirmed that yes, indeed, she is still promoting the Aid-To-The-Couch-Surfers and Foster-Care-For-The-Children-In-Need thing. I calculated that my chances of receiving a place to rest for the night would rise significantly if I arrived on the doorstep rather than making a formal reservation and allowing her the chance to brace herself, considering that I presently hold no knowledge as to what you have told her about me beforehand. I've been on the move for two and a half weeks since my parents and grandfather threw me to the curb, and I don't mind confessing that I am drained and exhausted."

"Well, I offer my condolences for your awful circumstances, but I'm glad you're here. You never allowed me the chance to say good-bye and I don't believe any of my tracking spells were able to pinpoint your location at a closer mark than eight or nine kilometers, seeing as I only had the one scrap of your hair."

"You had my hair?"

"Yeah, you left it stuck to the side of the shower." Leonard let go of one hand to gesture to the doorway, and much to his amusement she didn't release his other one, and simply allowed herself to step across the threshold with her palm resting in his. "I'm really very sorry we don't have a nourishing evening meal to await you after your exhausting quest. If we only would've known, we surely would've waited. I'm willing to heat some leftovers if you so desire, if you will only sit tight and let me grab my master spellbook."

"… Three quarters of a month, and you've remained so incredibly touched in the head. I have hardly stepped inside and I am already regretting this decision with every loop of thread in my cardigan. This was a mistake."

Leonard shook his head as she finally removed her hand and glanced around the entry hall. "Aw, there are no mistakes in our home, Scarlett. That's the family motto."

"Yes, so I deduced from the crocheted pennant outside your door." She peered down the hall as an echo of laughter bubbled up from the basement. Her teeth set themselves in a line. "Although, remembering why I believed your parents might allow me to seek shelter here, perhaps I would have been better off in Max's residence after all. He has his… limerence-like fondness for me and he wasn't incredibly distant from my location, and so I figured I could attempt to stomach a single night in his home if it meant I should receive food and shelter. In my defense, it was also hailing. However, things did not work out, much as I suspected they wouldn't, and thus I found myself hitting the road again, in search of another who might take me in."

Scarlett adjusted her glasses again, sort of meeting his gaze, except… not really. Her eyes seemed to be sliding over his face, taking him in like she was reading lines from a practiced script. "It appeared I didn't have many options. Few people demonstrate willingness to welcome in strangers these days, and the ones who looked as though they might accept a young, lone teenage girl into their midst, I was uncomfortable taking up on their offers. I did ensure that they would not be imposing themselves on anyone else as I left. At long last I did manage to arrive in mid-Ontario, but then Ella's step-mother turned me away. The others, I imagined, would still not be keen on speaking with me. That left you as the last resort. And here I am in southwestern Manitoba now."

"Uh, so what's 'limerence' again?"

She folded her arms, taking a step back that caused her to bump into the picture frames dangling from the wall. "Limerence is the psychological state of involuntary and non-sexual infatuation. Really, it's beside the point. You informed me about your mother's kindness multiple times over. I presume it's acceptable that I bunk here for the remainder of the night?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." He smiled, spreading his arms as she only tightened hers. "As far as I've been made aware, you're welcome to reside in my castle as long as you should feel is necessary to your interests. Mom is out picking up cows' milk and pig strips from the market, but Dad's just out in the garage, so you can say Hi to him if you like. Anyway, I can already feel that they'll welcome you. We're used to bringing people in from off the street at random times of the day. And if anyone is going to rest here, it may as well be you. My parents only take in the weirdest foster kids."

"Then if at all possible, I intend to stay until our season airs and they realize just what feats I am capable of performing, and decide to send me along just like all the others. When shall that be? A month or two or so?" He told her he wasn't sure, and Scarlett tilted her head. "And I was meaning to ask, too. You were a foster child yourself at one point in time, weren't you?"

"Uh-huh, just five years ago. I was the only one who survived when my birth family… caught… ill." Leonard blinked at his fingers. Then he tucked his cowlick back under the lip of his hood and reached for her with the other hand. "I would prefer not to talk about it, and I want you to know that this is a safe place, and it's okay if you don't want to talk about your parents disowning you and your grandpa throwing you out on the doorstep either."

That made her raise just one eyebrow. "You're fortunate I'm not emotionally frail, or you probably would have shattered my psyche firstly by bringing it up and secondly by stating it so bluntly to my face without any prior warning. Also, please remove your fingers from my shoulder before I do it for you with my knife. I have very poor eyesight and my cut may not be the cleanest or most accurate."

He chuckled and patted her arm before heading into the kitchen. In the reflection of the windows along the opposite wall, he saw the sarcastic smile drip and fade from her face.

"You're aware I wasn't kidding, aren't you, Leonard?"

"Yeah, sure. Hey, you said your hunger points were low, right? Mine would be, if I'd just quested all the way here from Max's dwelling place." Leonard flicked a few light switches with his wand. "Geez, I'm sorry. In all the excitement I completely forgot my manners. If you've come so far, then you must be starving. You nourish a deep fondness for peanut butter, right? That's all you guys took when you left, which is why I'm guessing so. Not to mention the WiFi thing. Let's see what we have around here that's fit for a shaman goddess queen."

Scarlett followed him into the kitchen, looking extremely taken aback by something or other. She set her backpack at the base of the fridge. "But you are aware I wasn't kidding. Yes?"

"Eh, I don't really care if you cut them off. I'll just magic up some new ones, and if I struggle to manage that task without my fingers then I'll have my dad build me some with the 3D printer and his soldering iron. He plays with robotic stuff all the time, so I'm sure he can figure it out, and my little big brother Ashley is a genius when it comes to wires and things. At the very least, I'm sure to get some impressive battle wounds out of the whole ordeal."

She swept her gaze up and down. Then she took a step away. "And it would appear as though you are perfectly okay with that. You're literally okay with that. You legitimately feel comfortable with my being in your house despite what happened on the island."

"Well…" Leonard weighed that statement in his mind for a moment while he withdrew a jar of crunchy peanut butter and some jelly from its shelf under the counter. "What are you expecting of me, honestly? I'm used to picking up various travelers for my party, and you have a skillset that I greatly desire. A consolidation of our respective forces seems like it would be much to the advantage of the both of us. Although, I suppose saying that I wouldn't care if I lost my fingers is too strong of wording. I imagine that it would probably hurt a lot, and that would be pretty lousy for awhile. But mostly, I'm okay having you around because we are very good friends and I know you wouldn't really do that."

Scarlett stared at him, her eyes squinted and her mouth just slightly open. "I wouldn't do that?"

"Great TOM - I'm aware your hair is red, but do you have to be such a scarlet macaw and parrot every little thing I say? I've gotten used to sarcastic mimicry over the years with all the little spritelings that are always running amok about my ankles, but it's just weird getting it from you. You're nearly creeping me out."

Scarlett put one hand to her face, her thumb on one temple and her middle finger on the other. As Leonard took a knife from his sleeve and started spreading peanut butter and jelly on the bread, she paced back and forth between the fridge and the table. "I… I apologize. It appears I will require a considerable moment in order to process this. All this time, I've always been under the impression that your delusions were a twisted joke."

"Well, it would happen that they're not, because I'm actually not delusional. Magic is my gift and I embrace it wholeheartedly. Uh, did you want jelly on your sandwich? I hope you wanted jelly on your sandwich.

"… Sure." She tugged the scrunchie from her hair and her red curls bushed up around her shoulders. "Whyever should I refuse?"

"Excellent." Leonard squished the top piece of bread on and came around the counter to hand it to her. She took it carefully between her fingers. Leaning against the high back of a barstool chair as he watched her pick her way through it, he finally said, "Seriously though, if you don't so terribly mind my invasively curious inquiries, just how are you handling the realization that your parents have given up all hope for you and your future?"

Scarlett gave a smile, tight-lipped as she swallowed. "I disconnected myself from them emotionally when I was eight. But I will confess that I shall miss shooting the ducks over the lake up at my grandfather's cabin."

"Well then, I shall interpret that as an offer to lead you on a trip through the woods sometimes. I know of several ponds that could pass for lakes with just a sprinkle of imagination. We may not find ducks, but we can pretend. And if you like, I could even bring along my mice and transform several of them into ducks, if that will delight you somewhat."

"You keep mice." She let out a chuckle. "If that is the case, I may just have to borrow two or three for experimentation sooner rather than later."

"Eh, I'd rather you didn't. We can buy you some of your own, but I've raised these little guys since they were born and most of them I need to ensure they keep pure and clean for my sacrifices."

As Scarlett finished off the first triangle of her sandwich, she slid her pupils sideways and just… looked at him in a peculiar fashion. Then she rolled her eyes. "And once again, I have forgotten with whom I am conversing. I do not make this comment lightly, but I do believe when all is said and done, perhaps you and I shall get along quite nicely."

"I would hope so. Our mutual appreciation for learning and exploration ought to unite us as kindred spirits in a love for scientific discovery and illumination."

The garage door swung open before she could give him a response, even though she looked like she had a really good one balanced on her tongue. Phillip Moore stepped into the kitchen, scrubbing his palms on a rag spattered with red paint, and froze.

"Hey Dad." Leonard twisted his thumb in Scarlett's direction. "This is my friend Scarlett, from the island. I know I'm not supposed to tell you exactly what she did on the show until it airs, but after the occurrence of the certain incident which has been vaguely alluded to in the past, the legal department contacted her family and she ended up getting disowned when she went home. So, yeah. I told her she could stay with us until she gets back on her feet."

Phillip pulled off his safety goggles. "So you must be the super-genius. You're prettier than I imagined you'd be. Leonard always seems awfully fond of you when he hints about your story, so I firmly believe that very soon I too shall become awfully fond of you. Er, in a way that isn't at all creepy. Don't be concerned- I don't intend to be the creepy foster dad. I assure you that I am happily married to my beautiful Jackie. And I am definitely going to stop talking now before you decide to shoot me in my good foot."

Scarlett didn't respond. At first Leonard was worried his father had offended her, and then he realized that her eyes were trained on the rag he had tossed across the table.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. No, no. He didn't murder anyone. That's paint. We're building a new wheelchair for Georgia since I used her last one as a sacrificial altar to the Barrier gods."

Lightning flickered out the window in response to his even daring to hint at the existence of the Fourth Wall. Dishes clattered in the cupboards. Loose papers fluttered to the floor. "Please stop tempting fate," Scarlett said, examining the ceiling with squinted eyes. "Unless, of course, you are deliberately attempting to get yourself blasted to smithereens. I am less than confident that I would avoid being splattered by your intestines should you be slammed with a direct bolt."

Phillip broke into a round of blinking. "That's the reason her chair went up in flames?"

Leonard stiffened. He glanced at Scarlett, still leaning on her elbows and shooting him that no-nonsense look over the rims of her glasses, then back at his dad, who was tugging on the end of his mustache. Whipping out his wand, he stabbed it into the last of her sandwich and shouted, "Of grain and fruit I cast my spell! Erase the thought and make all well!"

"Oh no!" Phillip clapped both palms to his chest and wheeled back, collapsing against the garage door and sliding down to the floor. "I've been struck! Memories… fading. Will to discipline favorite child… vanishing."

Leonard chuckled to himself as he brushed off his wand and replaced it in his sleeve. Sometimes, it was just too easy.

"You know," said Scarlett, sliding her plate across the counter, "it's beginning to occur to me exactly why you are so delusional. Your legal guardian has about as much of a backbone as mine did."

"The boy's not delusional." Picking himself from the floor, Phillip came over to their side of the counter. "He simply harbors strong opinions about the things he's most passionate about. I imagine you might have some notion of what I'm referring to- I was informed you have a fondness for science yourself. It should be nice having another clever little girl around. We haven't had a redhead underfoot for eight years." He ruffled Scarlett's hair with both hands, then flinched and jerked away. "Oh. Oh, I should have asked first- I'm so sorry. You're not even part of the gang yet. I didn't clarify if that was okay. That was insensitive of me. I do apologize."

Scarlett stood a minute, one eye twitching in time with her fingertips. Carefully, she raised one hand and smoothed out her curls. "Mr. Moore, I must ask you from the base of my heart to refrain from doing that ever, ever again."

"I am so sorry. That was instinct. I didn't intend to put you in an uncomfortable position. And I'm the creepy foster dad again. I am so bad with first impressions. I will…" He pointed at the garage as he scooted away. "… go back outside."

Leonard slid his arm around her shoulders. "Sorry. We tend to be a pretty physical family."

"Yes, I have deduced that. Now, if you please, get off." She shoved away his arm and slumped against the counter. And then, almost immediately, sprang away. "What in- What just bit my ankle?"

Giggling from below. Leonard ducked under the lip of the counter to confirm that, yes, Drake and Amber were snuggled up together in one of the open cabinets. Amber lifted her hands, fingers curled into claws, and growled like the wolves who had raised her. Drake, who didn't have hands, mimicked the movement with his stumpy arms as best as he could. Leonard introduced them to Scarlett, since she was standing there in irritated silence and clearly didn't intend to give her name herself. As they took off scampering out the back door and into the dark yard, Scarlett tipped up her chin to glare at him in the eyes.

"Expect me to be gone within the week. I loathe it here already."

"Aw, c'mon, Scarlett. Just give it a chance." Leonard took hold of her hand, and tried not to be offended when she swatted him off. "Hey, you know what I think your problem is? Hear me out. You're always so insistent about keeping first impressions. If you like someone from the get-go, you never stop liking them, no matter how much they begin to grind on your nerves. And if you don't approve of a place - say, a houseboat - just because you were in a horrible mood the first time you stepped onto it, you'll do your utmost to ruin it for everyone else, and then ditch us the first opportunity you get. You simply can't accept that your first thoughts were wrong. That your original calculations could be incorrect, no matter how instantaneously they were concluded."

He tapped his nails to his chin. "And perhaps that's why you concealed your true passion for LARPing from the time we met on the zeppelin. You figured that we would remember you as we had seen you first, and would treat you in that fashion no matter what hidden interests you revealed later on. You were concerned that when we discovered your secret nerdiness, your so-called friends would consider you irritating and abandon you, and such fears were only reinforced when you observed what my team did to me."

Scarlett didn't exactly smile, but her expression grew slightly less hostile. "That, my compatriot, was very deep. Less than accurate, but deep. You are this close to being awarded my stamp of approval."

"Thank you, my dear fair sorceress." He swept a low bow, nearly bonking his head into hers. She placed her hands behind her back.

"It is true that initial impressions do tend to stick with people for extended periods of time, and it can take many, many an attempt to recover from a poor first image. Do tell that to your father. And it would indeed be correct to say that I hoped to indicate a fidgety, self-conscious, and even quote-unquote 'nerdy' persona when I acted and dressed in the way I did upon my arrival onward." She looked down at her sweater, then shrugged. "As far as I have witnessed, familiarity doesn't breed contempt- it merely breeds affectionate…ivity. I never did appreciate yellow as a child, but in recent months it has considerably grown on me. Perhaps because the color is supposed to stimulate positive memory retrieval. Additionally, in France centuries upon centuries ago, the doors to the homes of those deemed 'traitors and criminals' were often painted with yellow, too. That would seem to suit my character, wouldn't you say?"

He nodded and leaned against the wall. "I enjoyed your shy, studious, and socially awkward character well enough, but I think I like when you play your call-it-like-you-see-it, won't-take-any-of-your-chicken-scratch character more."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, if it means you're embracing who you really are inside. Seeing you that day after your arrival on the boat, walking on tiptoes, struggling to bite your upper lip and contain yourself and obviously wishing you didn't have to, always running your hands in quick strokes down your shirt and skirt as though ensuring yourself that you hadn't slipped up even the faintest hint…" He gave a little shudder. "I pitied you with the fervor of a thousand silver moons."

"You're an interesting person, Leonard."

The pantry door creaked open. Riley slunk out, clutching a Super Soaker to his chest and looking about as irritated as a werewolf in a doghouse. He said a casual 'Hello' to Scarlett, then turned his full attention on Leonard. "Have you seen Dana? Like, anywhere in the past half hour?"

"Aha!" Dana erupted from her place on top of the fridge, nearly landing on top of Scarlett, and blasted Riley up the nostrils with her water pistol. He screamed, "Soap is cheating!" and made a blind grab for her shirt. She dodged, launched herself over the table, and shot off down the hallway. Riley charged after her with merciless laughter, firing at the walls.

"What the heck?" Scarlett pulled open the fridge like she was checking for additional stowaways. She must have been, because she shut it again quickly without removing anything. "How many children are in this house?"

"Twelve. No, wait. We sent Rachel on last week and Henry before her. So ten. Except we just got Dana there. Eleven. I believe there are six of us who are permanent here, and we rotate through the rest of our fellows by the season. On occasion we'll discover a new fellow who sticks, but not all of the others connect just right or there's some other family without kids who's looking to adopt, and since we've welcomed so many into our residence prior, it seems only fair to give another set of guardians a chance, if they seem to be nice people and everyone's okay with it and all. But they seem to like it here."

"Divine." She folded her arms. "Under the circumstances, don't allow yourself to become particularly shocked if I should disappear out the door without a farewell and then fail to return. Out there I was alone, but at least I was alone and recognized for who I am. Here, it appears I'll be just another one of many forgotten."

"What? No, of course not." He patted her shoulder, but stopped when she glowered at him. "Uh, Mom makes sure everyone gets all the love and attention they need. We all watch each other's backs and make sure we befriend everyone. You'll see. Once the others realize you're staying for longer than just one night, they'll warm straight up to you."

"You do recognize, I hope, that this is merely a temporary arrangement nonetheless. Despite the victory I expect to secure in the court case, I'm simply choosing to lie low from the police somewhat longer as I continue to finalize my plan of action. I do not intend to let your parents adopt me."

"Yeah, all right, and that's fine, if that's what you really think you want. I'd be overstepping my place if I tried to tell you how to live your life. But the winter frost will be sweeping upon us in a matter of weeks. And just keep in consideration that schooling begins in a couple of days, so if you require any of your disclosure statements to be signed by a legal guardian, my parents will need to get some foster papers taken care of first, so that's a thing."

"I believe that at this point in my life I can accurately manage to forge my grandfather's signature, thank you."

That made him blink. "But… that's lying. And lying is wrong."

Scarlett shrugged and kicked off her shoes in the middle of the floor. "I've done worse things. And it isn't as though I anticipate staying around here for long. As previously stated, I only came seeking temporary refuge as I get my bearings back." She stuck her finger at his nose. "And even though by definition we could be considered like foster siblings for the winter season, don't expect I will ever be changing my last name to Moore. I'm a Valentine. I'll always be a Valentine."

"Cool. I used to be a Paylor, but I like Moore better somehow. But if you don't, that's okay. There's nothing about you we're going to force to you change if you do not desire to."

"… Nothing?"

"Well, unless you perhaps, like, try to drop out of your educational programs. My mom hopes we will all go to college. Perhaps you'd suffer her rage if you attempted to get a fair maiden pregnant. Oh. I guess that doesn't apply to you. But no, for the most part, we just accept everyone for who they are and give them the love and shelter they need in order to live and grow to their fullest potential."

"Are you ser- How has no one taken advantage of your generosity and murdered you people yet? Honestly. You're all a bunch of permissives, aren't you?"

Leonard tilted his head. "I regret to say it, but I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

With a toss of her hair, Scarlett jabbed one finger at her temple. "Leonard, what if I have a real, actual something askew with my brain? What if I happen to be mentally unstable? Or a danger to the entire population? Are you saying that shouldn't be investigated or possibly changed?"

"Do you? Are you?"

"No! I assure you, I cannot be mentally unstable as I am fully aware of myself and my cognitive thoughts at every waking moment. But…" She tucked her hands beneath her armpits. "I am a little insulted that none of you have suggested as much, as though you are not actually concerned for my well-being." She added something else in a mutter under her breath there at the end.

Leonard tapped his chin with the end of his wand. "Well, if you would like to go to therapy, we could totally work that out. Mom sent me to therapy for a year one time, but that wasn't making any of us happy, so we just stopped. Everyone here is someone that was rejected by previous foster families because they were too this or not enough of that, so my parents have always striven to make our home into a loving and accepting environment for all of us to grow up and be whatever it is we wish to become. Oh- But if there is anything you want, just ask for it. Don't even hesitate. I'll summon something for you right away. Actually, chances are I already have whatever you're looking for in here somewhere." Leonard shook his sleeves at the floor, spilling out a few spools of thread, his pocket spellbook, a handful of cap erasers, some small plastic sheep, a jack of spades, several of his knives, a pair of his mother's glasses, five shining forks, a multi-sided die, two Oreos, a box of colored pencils, a small plush giraffe, a collection of Legos, three thimbles, and the loose Enter key from the keyboard to his computer. "Yeah. I have a habit of picking up a lot of stuff."

"How…? Were you in possession of- Your sleeves aren't even- But- Oh. Oh. That must be your primar- oh. Forget I asked." Scarlett shook her head and reached for her backpack. "I have concluded that I do not, in fact, actually desire to learn all the intimate details of you and your little gift, or at least not hear them springing from your deluded tongue that tends to get carried away in all your fantasies and exaggerations, and I shall be heading off to dress myself and curl up in a warm bed for the remainder of the night."

"All righty. The washroom is just this way down the-"

They both stopped, because her hand slipped as she took hold of her pack and she dropped it. Papers, gears, wires, and metal tools went skimming over the wooden floor. One round shape in particular caught Leonard's attention as it rolled to a stop at his feet. There was a small screen on its front that was frozen at 4:32.

"Is this… is this a… Scarlett, were you going to blow up my house?"

"NO! I- I mean, only if things didn't work out."

Leonard scooped up the explosive, fighting every instinct that wanted to take his wand and blast her in the chest right then and show her what for. "Did you blow up Max's house too? Is that the real reason why you couldn't move in with him?"

Scarlett stood there, solidly frozen, her arms up and her fingertips almost touching.

"I was indeed fully intending to blow it up. I mean, it was Max. But… but there were kids in there. The kids he was babysitting. And I… discovered my fatal weakness. I couldn't do it. They had done nothing to me, not even a little, and they were so young. I met my folly and shamefully caved. I could not manage the willpower to overcome my own conscience, even if it should mean he finally met his end."

"Gee, that's too bad. You know I'm going to have to confiscate it, right? And what's this?" He bent down and picked up one of the sheets of paper. "Why is this labeled 'Attempt to Take Over Saskatchewan #23'? Scarlett, it's a really, really bad idea to label stuff like this. You'll get yourself incriminated. You need to do these things in secret."

"Give me that!" She snatched the paper back and stuffed it into her pack with the others. "It's labeled such a way only because I was attempting to keep Max distracted. This isn't my real plan- I'm not that stupid. This was… this was simply the… character sheet for one of my RPG creations."

"You're a tabletop roleplayer too?"

She thought for a second. "Yes."

Leonard tucked the explosive under his arm and prayed silently that Ashley hadn't fallen asleep yet. The sooner he knew for a fact this thing was properly disabled, the happier he'd be. "I prefer LARPing myself, but one of these days we'll totally need to amass our players and forces in one great dungeon exploration adventure. Tomorrow, perhaps, if you've settled down enough for that."

"I'm ecstatic. Now, would it happen that your family is in possession of any pajamas that might be relatively my size? I've been wearing these clothes for the last eight days and would very much appreciate if I could be switching out of them now. I do not even wish to consider the amount of grime that must have accumulated in my hair."

He sent her to the storage closet while he tracked down Ashley to dissect the bomb. Ten minutes later when he returned to the hall, someone was in the 'water closet' and Scarlett stood in front of the door, clutching green pajamas flecked with colorful polka-dots and looking utterly bewildered. "This is quite odd," she said, glancing at him. "I've never lived anywhere with a higher ratio of people to bathrooms before, unless one is counting the island and the houseboat, but I wouldn't because this never happened to me there."

"Really, you haven't?"

"Do I have a reason for lying to you at the moment?" She bounced on her toes, scowling at the door. "I imagine I'll be needing to learn to share, won't I?"

"Yeah. Or you can just take last shower shift of the morning, if you like. Most of us get up around five or five-thirty. We'll try to keep the noise down, but no promises. My silencer spells never seem to work quite right that early in the day. Perhaps I draw more of my power from the sun than I realized."

Her eyebrows pinched together. "Why would you willingly choose to get up at five o'clock?"

"Because the number of us who need to shower is many, and we always fight over who gets to go first and take all the warm water before it chills. Of course," he added with a shrug, "I took my fair share of cold showers when I was a kid, but I rarely lose a scuffle now that I'm the biggest of the gang, particularly with my magic in hand. You could say I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve."

Dear TOM, he wished he had a box of Trix to pull from his sleeve. That would've been awesome.

"… Shower water gets cold if you allow it to continue running long enough?"

"Did you not know this, somehow?"

Scarlett's shoulders bristled. "You know what, Leonard? I'm clever. No one can deny that, so I won't attempt to justify my point. But my mental skills are all academic. I know little to nothing about the social world or living in a place with siblings. I haven't seen my brother more than a few times since I was nine, I was avoided at school by all but a few moochers, and I spent quite awhile being homeschooled out in a woodland cabin with my aging therapist of a grandfather and no one else, and that's it. So no, actually, I was not aware that this kind of thing happens to the stupid shower. How does that even make sense? How would you ever heat it up again once it has lost its high temperature even once? You can't very well boil it as it rains down on you. Why would such a liquid begin its existence warm and then suddenly cool down the longer it flows, and not even cool from the rotational movement itself since I've confirmed that it feels hot to the touch on countless occasions before? Seeing as it only exits the showerhead while split into myriad little droplets, the body shouldn't adjust and lower its sensitivity threshold, not in that brief amount of time…"

Her confusion amused him more than it maybe should have, and he slipped both hands into his sleeves. "Hey, if it would make you happy, I would be willing to wrestle Brent for a warm and early opening and lend it out to you. Y'know, new kid welcome present and all."

"Please do. That would be most kind." She shoved her glasses further up her nose as the lock on the door rattled and Nathan slithered out. "However, once I become properly adjusted to dwelling here - which, mind you, I am not intending to take up any potential offer for permanent residence should your parents offer one - I will certainly be challenging each of your siblings to a series of vicious duels. Mark my words, you shall regret crossing me, and soon none of you will even think to dare to place yourselves in my path when the time comes for me to enjoy my morning wash."

Leonard couldn't suppress his smile. "Good night, Scarlett," he told her as she shoved past. "Oh- and one finishing word of forewarning."

She gave him an impatient look, holding the door a crack open with just one hand so all he could see were red curls, a few toes, and a single green eye.

"If you begin your cleansing rituals too late tomorrow, you may not arrive to breakfast right as it is warm and ready, and that would be very sad. My mom is going to whip up waffles and crepes and scones and banana smoothies, and I would hate for you to miss out. She always does when we bring someone new inside, and she's developed an exceptional talent for cooking."

"Am I going to be required to brutally face off against my fellow house residents in order to claim a seat at the table?"

"Nah, not if you don't want to. You can share the living room couch with me as we watch Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Friends with Drake and Kylie." He made double channeling signs with his fingers above his head. "Season 1 finale tomorrow! I'm excited. Are you excited? I'm excited… Hey, did you get something in your eyes? You've been rolling them around a lot since you got here."

"It's a chronic congenital condition." She shut the door. A new thought occurred to him, and he knocked on it.

"Hey, Scarlett."

"That would be me. What do you want?" He heard the rustle of her sweater.

"Where would you prefer to sleep tonight? We can slip you in with the girls, but Georgia's thirteen, Dana's ten, and Kylie's only six, and they're fond of having their music playing all throughout the night and well into the morning. And Amber is her wild self, so if that will be a bother to you then we can easily place you somewhere else. The couch should always be an option unless Nathan, Ash, and Brent irritate the heck out of each other and one of them decides to slink out and lay claim to it instead."

Leonard paused. Then, scratching behind his neck, he went on a little more reluctantly. "And of course, you are always welcome to room in mine, Drake, and Riley's chambers for a time. Unless that would be weird for you. I mean, I can stay there and sleep on the floor and you can take up my bed, or we can haul in the air mattress and you can sleep on it, or Riley could certainly share my bed and you can have his. Or I could pull out the tent and you can sleep out in the backyard, but you'd have to be alone."

Scarlett said nothing.

"Actually, I guess nothing stops us from coming out there to join you. That would be fun too. In fact, I'll set up a clearance circle to ward away the raccoons and moose and ants, and then I shall inquire of Mom if we might enjoy breakfast in bed out there. Oh- and it slipped my mind to ask before, but you won't take offense if we should bake you a gluten-free Welcome to the Family cake, will you? Because Dana suffers from celiac disease and we can't make another cake simply for her, or she will take it upon herself to swallow the entire thing and begin to throw up everywhere, and I'm quite sure that isn't the first impression we want to have on you in the morning."

No reply. The door shifted, and he heard Scarlett place her back against it and ease down to the ground. As he looked at it uncertainly, Leonard was hit with a sudden shiver of déjà vu. When she'd first stumbled into the houseboat post her elimination alongside Max, she'd grabbed an avocado from the fruit bowl to hold her over, headed directly for the bathroom, and rinsed herself off with a well-deserved shower. He'd offered to guard the door, seeing as the lock was still broken (Again, totally not his fault). He'd sat there on the floor for a good long while, but back then it had been his spine pressed against wood instead of hers. And the reason he'd been sitting rather than standing was because Topher had called him a…

…

Leonard tapped his nails against the wood and lowered his voice. "Scarlett? Are you crying?"