A/N: So I decided where I would take this story, and it is going to be SUPER AU in a sense. All of the characters will remain the same, but they will be introduced differently and will have different outcomes for the sake of this story. Sorry if that bothers anyone, but I'm giving it a shot!

I'm going to estimate that Vanessa was 28 in the first episode of Penny Dreadful (which was in 1891, right), putting her birth year at around 1863. So that's where we are. I'm not an expert Historian-or even a mediocre one at that-so I'm not familiar about what was invented when and what happened when, but I am learning what I can via the internet. So while I am not throwing random things in there without a care, I am still not 100% sure how accurate it is!

So please feel free to tell me if there's anything that seems iffy.

Let me know what you guys think of this story. I'll probably keep writing until I'm blocked, but hopefully some input will keep me motivated!

/\\\/\\\

The girls were eight and they were beginning to look like young ladies rather than children.

Vanessa still went home with ripped tights and bruised knees and elbows nearly every night, but her etiquette at tea time and dinner began to improve with her mother's teaching. All-in-all, the intelligent girl knew when to be 'Van, the Adventurer' and when to be 'Miss. Vanessa Ives'.

Given the choice though, she always preferred a day assisting Malcolm in the Solarium helping him mount his latest kill. He hadn't allowed her to touch any of the works yet, because she was to remain his pure Vanessa. She was too kind and loving to hold the dead in her hands. She was better off giving the small mountain cats and birds of prey funny little names.

"Pandora!" She had proudly called the ape he had bagged the summer before.

Every dead creature had a name. And every name stuck with it. She said that naming it gave it life again.

He grinned at the canvas sack across from him in the buggy. What would she name this Giant Eagle Owl he just bagged in the Sahara? He never told her the gender, thinking it most entertaining when she came up with the name without knowing. She never seemed to mind doing it that way.

The cart pulled up in front of his house, just as four figures came running across the gravel driveway. It was when he was stepping out of the back that the smaller of the quartet fell forward and slid a couple inches towards him. He nearly dropped his cane when he saw the long black curls that belonged to the clumsy one.

"Oh my darling..." But before he could move to help her, the second boy in the group of children-one he had never seen before-beat him to it.

"Are you okay Nessa?" The kid asked, concern lacing his voice as he gripped the tiny girl's arm and guided her gently back onto her feet.

Malcolm's nose curled at the American accent. Where the hell did he come from?

Vanessa nodded breathlessly and brushed her hands against her dress to get the dirt out of the small scrapes in the palms. Her mother had luckily started dressing her in darker clothes to hide the countless grass (and sometimes blood) stains. "Yes." She smiled at the boy with shaggy brown hair. "I was just excited."

"Please try to be careful dear." Sir Malcolm knelt down to pat Peter's head before pulling the two girls into his arms. "Oh, how I missed you children!"

"Father, this is Ethan Chandler!" Mina exclaimed as soon as she pulled back. She gestured the lanky kid standing only inches away from Vanessa still, probably making sure she didn't take another spill on his watch.

Peter continued for his sister whose introduction was cut short when she saw a new kind of flower in the garden across the driveway. "His family just moved into the old Lockhorne Estate." He said, a small grin lighting his face. "And he's my age father! Finally! No more stupid girls!"

Malcolm laughed at his twelve year old's persistent disdain their female dominated world. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Ethan." He shook the boy's hand. "Now, if you will excuse me, it looks like someone needs a bandage!"

He swooped down to pick Vanessa up with his free arm while the other toted his cane as well as the bag with the owl in it. Mina ran in behind them, leaving the boys outside to continue their game of tag. When they got to the kitchen, Malcolm set his older girl on the counter before lifting the younger one up to join her.

"Were you two good for your mothers while I was away?" He asked poking each of their noses before going over to the cabinets to collect the first aid supplies. They kept an extra set handy in just about every room of the house now that they had two clumsy children living there and a third frequently visiting.

Both of them bobbed their heads up and down in earnest. "Father had to speak with Mr. Tomesin this morning, so I'm to stay out of the house." Vanessa recited, unfazed by the banishment.

She despised Edgar Tomesin. The old man owned the property just behind the Ives' six hundred acres and he was constantly over trying to convince Gordon to spare a few meters here and there so that he could add on to his elaborate garden.

When Vanessa was four, her father gave in and allowed the gentleman a small lot. This resulted in Tomesin running over a den of rabbits the child had been monitoring with his cast-iron push mower.

Naturally, the little spitfire charged the man when he came to their front door complaining that the body of the animal he'd destroyed had broken his mower. Luckily, Claire was already up that morning and she was able to help Gordon and the butlers pry the child of less than three stones off of the man's neck.

On any other day Tomesin would have a face full of scratches and a bruised throat, but because little Vanessa always minded her mother; he walked away with nothing more than a bit of shock and a lot of rage.

So now, even four years later, the old man refused to come over if 'that little brat' were there.

To that, Malcolm would have happily refused the man entrance into his home from then on out. But because Gordon Ives was a pushover, he simply chased his daughter away allowed the irritable bastard over.

"What does Mean Mr. Tomesin want now?" Malcolm asked, deepening his voice into a monster-like growl, eliciting laughter from the girls.

"His wife died." Mina said as soon as she sobered.

"Poor Mrs. Tomesin had influenza." Vanessa continued wrinkling her nose. "She was so old and her body just gave up. That's what mother says."

'Yes, I'd give up too if I lived with a fustilug like Edgar.' He kept this to himself, not wanting to teach his children that it was okay to make light of something as tragic as death. Instead, he kept his mouth closed as he gently dabbed Vanessa's skinned hands and knees with a damp rag. She didn't even flinch, as she was quite accustomed to having her wounds treated.

"He wants to have a party or something for her in our Music Room." Vanessa said conversationally, sticking her leg out straight so that he would have an easier time wrapping it. "I heard him and father in there when I came in to get my sweater...Oh blazes! I left it on the beach!" She quickly switched gears when she realized that her arms were bare.

Malcolm could see that she was beginning to fret and assumed that it was her favorite sweater that was at stake. The thick, cream-colored angora cardigan that had once been her mother's was threadbare and by no means flattering, but she adored it. So there was no question as to what would be next on their agenda.

"We'll go down and retrieve it as soon as we finish up here." He promised her, ruffling her curls.

The Owl could wait.

/\\\/\\\

Even with summer fast approaching, the air was still quite cold. Sir Malcolm made sure both of the girls were in overcoats before making the short trek to the beach. His Mina, a plump little cherub was already a size larger than Vanessa, making it easy to find something that fit the tinier girl.

"Could we go to the carnival next weekend?" Mina asked. Her fingers were wrapped around Malcolm's left hand. She was always on the left and Vanessa on the right. It was never a spoken assignment; it was just how it went.

Cringing, Malcolm tilted his head as they reached the path that would take them through the front gate and towards the rocky shore. The 'Carnival' was nothing more than rigged games and sideshows that would likely terrify the children-well most of the children. Something told him that his raven haired darling wouldn't be disconcerted in the least at the sight of a two headed pig.

"Perhaps." He finally said, knowing that any form of refutation would be met with a slew of pleading that he'd be unable to resist. If nothing else, he'd take them to watch the pie eating contest and on the pony rides. Gladys would more than likely want to attend as well-she was a sucker for the many new gadgets and gizmos showcased every year.

Just as they were approaching the top of the path, Ethan and Peter appeared from the brush. While his son continued on towards the house, calling out that he was going to retrieve some water, the other boy remained. In his arms was a fuzzy ivory bundle.

"You left this on the rocks." He said with a sheepish smile.

Vanessa beamed and released Malcolm's hand so that she could take the sweater from the young American. "Thank you Ethan." She was unusually demure as she ducked her head and moved closer into Sir Malcolm's side. "We were just going to fetch it."

"I didn't want you to get cold." Ethan said, sniffing and rubbing his hands together to warm them.

Malcolm wasn't sure what to make of this boy. He was American and wealthy, but he had the manners of the English. There was no haughtiness and he spoke to the girls as he would peers. Even Peter hadn't mastered that skill.

Speaking of which, his son was shouting out from somewhere behind them, asking that his new friend hurry up so they could finish whichever adventure they had started.

"Good afternoon." Ethan smiled at Vanessa and Mina before standing at attention and giving the man a firm nod. "Sir Malcolm."

Amused, Malcolm returned the gesture. "Sir Ethan."

When the boy scampered off once again, Mina let out a tiny giggle. "He fancies Vanessa." She whispered to her father, tugging on his hand.

"Hush Mina!"

"He walked beside her the whole morning and asked her so many questions!" The blonde squeaked and made kissing noises. "And he went all the way down to the beach just to get her sweater!"

"It's because he's kind." Vanessa pointed out, taking Malcolm's hand again while clutching the sweater close to her chest and pressing it to her nose to inhale.

Taking pity on his normally poised and self-assured girl who was now reduced to a timid little puddle, the father leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "That's right dear." He agreed and turned to smile at Mina. "You might not know this dear, but some boys actually have manners. Your brother is a poor example for his kind."

"And a smelly one!" Mina added with a giggle.

This got both of the girls back into good spirits as they turned and went back towards the house. They continued to find different words to describe Peter and point out just how different he was from Young Mr. Chandler.

As soon as they were back through the gate, they let go of his hands and sped off in the direction of the maze in hopes of catching up with the boys.

Malcolm watched them go with a warm heart. For once, he felt completely content to let his girls out of his sight. He always worried for them-especially Vanessa with her foolhardiness-but now, that worry was but a faint flicker.

With one final look in their direction, he let out a small sigh. It looked like he would be on his own with the owl.

Vanessa could bring it to life another day.