Mark and Lisa Urquhart sat quietly huddled up with each other on the couch, awaiting the new child they were about to foster. Lisa fidgeted while Mark kept a warm arm around her. "We are ready for this, right, Mark?"

"I think we are, honey. If we aren't now, we never will be. You will be a terrific mother, I'm sure!" Lisa snuggled closer to Mark but raised her head and focused on the window when she heard a car pull up in front of their home. She stood and quickly moved the curtain to see a police squad car pull up. A woman exited on the far side of the car as a small pre-teenage boy stepped out of the car door closest to the house. She straightened up her dress and fussed over her bracelet getting ready to answer the door. She took another peek out of the window to see the boy take a battered suitcase from the policeman after heaving a leather book satchel over his shoulder. She couldn't wait any longer, and opened the door prematurely, greeting the visitors with a large eager smile.

The policeman followed Mrs. Rogers and Daniel into the home and deposited the duffel bag right inside the door. He then stepped out without an introduction and retreated back to the squad car. Daniel stood just inside the doorway quietly looking around.

"Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart? Hi, I'm Nanine Rogers, we spoke on the phone, and this is Daniel Jackson." Nanine gave a fake smile as she patted Daniel's shoulder. "Daniel, this is Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart, who have kindly volunteered to take you in."

Daniel nodded to them before shuffling the suitcase in his hands to free up one to shake Mr. Urquhart's when proffered. "Welcome to our home, Daniel. We hope you enjoy your time here." Daniel murmured a thanks and a meek smile.

After a pregnant pause, Mrs. Rogers motioned to the couch. "Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart, we have some things to discuss, shall we sit down?" She seemed eager to break up the awkward silence.

"Oh, yes, of course, please! Can I get you anything?" Mrs. Urquhart replied, motioning to have everyone sit.

Daniel nodded no. "May I go lie down, please?"

Mrs. Urquhart looked at him concernedly, but noticed he looked weary as he was shifting his weight to handle his luggage. "Of course, your room is upstairs on the left, right across from the bathroom." She watched him begin up the stairwell with everything, including the duffel, and then stared at her husband. He immediately offered assistance, but Daniel declined and disappeared up the stairs.

Nanine cleared her throat so that she would get the Urquharts' attention. Lisa took a seat next to her husband, but before Mrs. Rogers had the opportunity to start her lecture, the grandfather clock rang six times, indicating the late hour. "Is it really that late?" Mrs. Urquhart commented, standing up. "Has Daniel had dinner yet?"

Mrs. Rogers could only shrug and Lisa was up the stairs in a flash to offer dinner to their new charge. She moved carefully to his bedroom door, which was wide open. She spied him sitting on the bed, still staring at nothing. She knocked softly on the open door to get his attention. He seemed to jump out of his thoughts and turned to face her. "Would you like some dinner? I can make you a sandwich or some pasta?"

"No, thank you. I had a late lunch at the other house. I'm just really tired."

His demure reply made her think he didn't like the fact he moved to their house. Maybe he was tired, but Lisa began to doubt herself.

"Very well, then. Sleep well, Daniel." She smiled warmly and shut the door behind her, allowing him some privacy. She desperately wanted to get to know him, but she remembered in the foster parent training to let the child lead the process in becoming acquainted, to not overwhelm the child too quickly.

She joined her husband again, quickly apologizing for the delay.

"No problem, Mrs. Urquhart. On to business. I noticed that you two were just cleared to accept special needs children and this is your first placement, right?" Both of the Urquharts nodded to Mrs. Rogers. "I want to put you on the right footing, taking on a child like Daniel. A special needs child demands a lot of attention. Generally there are two classifications for special needs, physical incapacity or mental, emotional, and behaviorally challenged. Boys especially who are classified as special needs are among the most unruly and wildly behaved children in Social Services. They are also the hardest to place, so having good folk like you two to take in a troubled boy is really commendable."

Lisa and Mark stared in shock at Mrs. Rogers. The training discussed this briefly, but never to the negative extent the caseworker had just indicated.

"But there are services to help you, and I highly suggest you take advantage of these. Firstly, it is the primary function of special needs parents to get their children to school. The school system is very well equipped to handle these children, and there are programs in place to keep them in line and give them the education they need to be productive adults in society. I've included documents with resources, including the bus schedule and the Truancy Squad phone number with the New York City Police Department. If for any reason your foster child does not willingly go to school, call the truancy officer and they will come and take him to school. I've enrolled Daniel as a sixth grader at MacArthur Middle School, which is right up the road. The school will see to it if he needs to be moved to another grade based on his previous schooling. The school also provides lunches already hot and prepared for foster children, so you don't need to worry about making sure he doesn't leave his lunch behind, or anything like that. They'll also provide the books, paper and pencils he'll need. Like I mentioned, the school system is more than well equipped to handle special needs children. They are a really great resource, and I have found that the children also respond well to the school's authority."

Lisa interjected, "what should we be looking for? How serious might this be?" Her voice was worried, and she was clenching Mark's hand tightly.

"Well, I am not Daniel's case worker, so I don't know him in particular, but the most frequent problems you will face with a special needs child include willful disobedience, temper tantrums and lying. Be vigilant about time spent away from the house after school hours, as sometimes the beginnings of a criminal lifestyle begin at this age, including petty theft, bullying and abuse to animals. Look, I don't say this to alarm you. Goodness knows I've probably just terrified you of the boy I brought over, but careful vigilance and use of the resources within the school system will make a huge impact in the child's life, and hopefully with a bit of strong parenting, a well structured life here in the home, and constant re-evaluation with Danny's case worker, I'm sure he will turn out well. Danny's normal case worker, Nancy Johnson, specializes in special needs, and she has a real heart for them. I'm sure when she returns from some time off she had to take, she'll fill you in much better than I can about Danny."

"Does he go by Daniel or Danny?" Mark inquired.

"I really don't know, Mr. Urquhart. Like I said, I'm not his case worker. Unfortunately Mrs. Johnson had to leave town on a family emergency, but we needed to move Daniel before the weekend was out."

"Why did he need to be moved this weekend? Is he in trouble?" Mrs. Urquhart sounded anxious.

Nanine waved her hand. "Oh no, nothing to do with Daniel. The family he was with is no longer qualified for foster care. I can't really go into details, but Daniel was not removed for any reasons concerning him." Both Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart sighed in relief. Looking at her watch, Mrs. Rogers stood up and reached out her hand. "I really must be going, but if you have any problems, don't hesitate to use the resource sheet I gave you. I'm sure Mrs. Johnson will be by when she returns to introduce herself to you two. Good luck!"

Both of the Urquharts shook her hand and Mark showed her to the door. The social worker retreated quickly to the squad car and within moments it was driving away from the Urquharts' townhouse. Mark hugged Lisa tightly. "Everything will be okay, sweetie."

They walked together to the den and Mark turned on the TV. They cuddled together on the large couch. "Do you think Daniel could be that bad, the way she described him?" Lisa pulled Mark closer to him. "He seemed so quiet. I can't imagine him acting out. When I went up to his room to offer him dinner, he was just sitting there, quiet as a church mouse. He looked a little out of it, now that I think about it. And so sad."

Mark stroked her hair gently. "I told you before we met him you'll be a great mother. Mrs. Rogers stated that good parenting and a loving environment will really help him in the long run. Whatever issues Daniel has we will help him overcome them. My mother once confided in me that when my older brother was driving her crazy with his antics, she knew that he was just testing her boundaries, daring her to stop loving him. She never gave up on him, and he turned out okay! He finally figured out that her love was unconditional and it was as if overnight he just stopped acting out. We can do the same for Daniel, for as long as he's with us." He kissed her on the forehead and settled into the couch comfortably with her in his arms. She sighed but settled into him, nervously rubbing her finger along his soft shirt as the two watched the evening news.

Lisa checked in on Daniel as she was heading to bed. Seeing him curled up, slightly shivering on the bed and still in the clothes he was wearing when he came into the home, she disappeared down the hall and pulled a blanket from the linen closet. She quietly returned to the room and draped the blanket over him. Even in his sleep, he sighed and reached for the edge of the blanket, pulling it closer. She didn't dare pull his glasses off of his face. She just hoped he didn't bend them out of shape.


The minute Daniel was alone in his room, he realized he was really exhausted. He dropped the duffel and his book bag next to the bed. The suitcase sat next to him on the bed. Daniel did not understand why he was moved. Mrs. Johnson always explained why a move occurred when no obvious incident instigated it. He felt uneasy with Mrs. Rogers. She knew about St. A's; she said the school was aware of the situation and they were still expecting him Monday morning. This was the first move since he started St. A's, and even though Mrs. Johnson promised he'd never have to transfer schools again, he felt uneasy about this sudden move. If only Mrs. Johnson was here, it would all be okay.

Daniel was startled out of his train of thought by a knocking at his bedroom door. He turned to face the door to realize Mrs. Urquhart was standing there, and maybe for more than a few seconds. "Would you like some dinner? I can make you a sandwich or some pasta?" Her concern seemed genuine, but Daniel didn't assume this eagerness would last longer than Mrs. Rogers' stay.

"No, thank you. I had a late lunch at the other house. I'm just really tired." It wasn't a lie; Mr. Becker woke up even later than normal that morning, so lunch wasn't served until almost two in the afternoon. But Daniel's motivations for the response was not truthful. He did not want to seem needy to another set of foster parents. His experience taught him to stay in the background if at all possible. Now that he was at St. Antholian's, almost all of his needs were met there.

"Very well, then. Sleep well, Daniel." She smiled warmly and shut the door behind her, allowing him some privacy. He sighed in relief as he seemed successful in fending off the eager introductions for a bit. It wouldn't last for long, but it bought him peace for that night.

He was tired, though he still needed to study. Apathy washed over him. He opened up the suitcase instead and pulled out his father's journal and a worn copy of his mother's book before locking the case closed, guiding it gently down to the floor and underneath the bed. He set his mother's book on the night stand next to his bed, noticing for the first time all the furniture and bedding looked new, not worn from years of fostering children. He would normally have appreciated it, but tonight he just didn't care to think about it. Holding his father's journal tightly to his chest with crossed arms, he laid himself down on the bed facing the wall, away from the door. He was asleep in minutes; he didn't even turn down the bed and crawl in between the sheets.