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Author's Note

Ok, so, I totally had writer's block this week. I seriously couldn't think of anything to write. That's why this chapter is a bit late and probably not as good as usual. Sorry, Kiddos. I did my best. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

PS. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews I've been getting! I love getting feedback from you guys, it keeps me going!! Keep 'em coming!! :D

1885—Hill Valley

November 26th

5:00 am

Dr. McKinney found Amelia in the kitchen the next morning. Nodding, he took a seat next to her at the kitchen table. He still looked drained, but Amelia noticed there was a bit of a glow in his cheeks this morning. Apparently sleep had done him some good. Amelia wished she could say the same thing about herself.

She was still beating herself up over teasing Marty. How could she do that? More importantly, how had she let it get that far in the first place? Sex wasn't even something she particularly wanted. Just the thought of it scared her half to death, and now Marty was under the impression that she just needed more time to get used to the idea. She needed more time alright…about five years and an engagement ring more…

"Good morning," Dr. McKinney said politely, yanking her out of her head and helping himself to a plate of biscuits. "I trust you slept well?"

Amelia felt her cheeks color. She nodded and busied herself with her cup of coffee. McKinney fell silent.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Gardner came in and took their requests for breakfast. As she began bustling about, Dr. McKinney settled back in his seat and took to studying Amelia, making her both self-conscious and uncomfortable. There was a sort of half smirk on his face as he watched her. It was an expression that she really couldn't place but for some reason it made her cheeks grow pinker. Amelia tried to ignore him, afraid he was gearing up to ask more questions. The last thing she wanted to do was lie her way through another conversation.

"How old are you, Miss Brown?" McKinney asked suddenly, completely taking her off guard.

Amelia looked up at him. His lips twitched in a quick smile.

"Seventeen, almost eighteen," she said. Then she frowned, "Why?"

"Curious," he said, shrugging. "Have you seen your brother this morning?"

"I peeked in, yes" Amelia lied, still wondering what her age had to do with anything, "he's still sleeping."

"Good, good, just what I wanted to hear," Dr. McKinney grinned, breezing through his momentary awkwardness. "I'll check on him after breakfast."

"Doctor," Amelia began.

"Please, call me Artemus," he said.

"Artemus," Amelia said slowly, stifling the urge to laugh, "you said last night you could take me to my father?"

"I did, didn't I? Well then, that's on the list right after I see your brother. Now, let's eat."


Amelia met Artemus on the porch a little after they had finished breakfast. He assured her again that Marty was doing just fine and then ushered her outside to where his wagon was waiting. After helping Amelia into her seat, something she didn't want and only allowed in order to seem polite, Artemus settled himself on the driver's side, cracked the whip, and off they went.

It was still rather early, maybe five-thirty or six. In 1985, the only people who would be awake at this time were businessmen on their way to work, maybe the occasional mom or teenager who forgot to do homework the night before. Here however, everyone was out and about. And they all stopped what they were doing to watch Amelia, her strange clothes, and Dr. McKinney's wagon go by.

If I could time travel and not get stared at I think I'd like it more, Amelia thought to herself as another group of kids halted their game to giggle at her outfit. And these jeans are designer, thank you very much.

"Well, that's your father's place," Artemus said, stopping the wagon in front of a very large blacksmith's shop. "He should be inside. Do you mind if I come in and say hello?"

Amelia didn't answer. She had already jumped from the wagon and was sprinting toward the open doors of her dad's shop. She heard Artemus call out her name in surprise and ignored him again. He was bound to follow her anyway. Right now she just wanted to see her father.

"Dad!" she called once inside. "Dad, where are you?"

"Amelia? Amelia, is that you?"

Never had her father's voice sounded so wonderful. Frantically, she cast around for the sight of him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you?" She called.

"Just a minute," his voice returned.

A second later, Emmett came out from behind something very large and tarp-covered. His face was crinkled in a radiant smile, his eyes very bright and a little shiny. Amelia's resolve fell the moment she saw him. She broke into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"What's all this?" Emmett asked, shocked and a little alarmed at his daughter's behavior. "Where's Marty?"

"Your son is at my house, Mr. Brown," Artemus said, easing his way into the shop and doing his best to seem oblivious to Amelia's emotional breakdown. "He had quite the accident the other night."

"My son?" Emmett muttered to himself. He looked down at Amelia. She sniffled apologetically and fell to crying again. "Oh, yes, you mean Marty of course. I have many sons. Sometimes it's hard to keep them straight."

"Yes," Artemus said, looking at him oddly. "Well, I can see now is a bad time. I'll call again later and we can discuss your son's condition. It's nothing serious, I assure you."

"Thank you, Art," Emmett said. Amelia saw Artemus wince a little at Emmett's informality.

"You're quite welcome," he said politely. "Goodbye Mr. Brown, Miss Brown."

Then he left.

"Stuffy Irish bird, isn't he," Emmett remarked after he had gone. Then he laid a kiss on Amelia's forehead. "I think you have something to tell me?"

Amelia wiped her eyes and on his shirt and nodded.

They sat down in a couple of chairs Emmett had set up around his workbench and Amelia told him everything, starting with the arrival of his letter and ending with them arriving at Artemus's house. When she got to the DeLorean being demolished in the middle of nowhere she hesitated. Then, just as if she was ripping off a Band-Aid, she blurted it all out at once.

"What do you mean by 'demolished'?" Emmett asked slowly, the expression on his face somewhere between disappointment and terror.

"I mean it's gone," Amelia said. "The only way that thing is going anywhere is if we're pushing it."

Emmett's face blanched so badly that Amelia lurched forward, afraid that he might faint.

"But its fine, right?" she hurried on, praying it wasn't bad as the look on his face suggested. "You can fix it right?"

"I'd have to see it," he said, shaking his head. "But from what you're telling me…"

"What does that mean?" Amelia asked quickly, her stomach clenching.

Emmett shook his head again, more forcefully this time.

"Nothing, I have to see the car before I say any more."

Amelia could tell he was trying not to scare her. Unfortunately, she was already there. She had never even thought that her father might not be able to fix the car. Now, seeing him so shaken, she wasn't sure what to think. Maybe the DeLorean was gone for good. What would happen to them then? They couldn't just stay in 1885.

Could they?

"So," Amelia said, attempting to change the subject and get her mind off such a horrifying possibility, "what have you been doing here?"

"Building this mostly," Emmett said, looking around his shop. His voice still had a bit of a defeated edge to it. "It's been...educational."

Amelia looked around her. It was pretty impressive. Where she sat now was clearly his workshop area. There was a large workbench, an even larger forge, and what appeared to be several stables for horses. No detail had been left forgotten. Even his outfit, which she had just now noticed, was perfect down to the ten-gallon hat atop his head. She had to hand it to her father; he could cook up a fake identity better than anyone she knew.

"And they rest of the time? When you weren't building?" Amelia continued.

"Trying to fit in," he said, smirking at her, "Speaking of which…"

"I know, I know…the clothes."

"I'll get you some new ones after I go visit Marty. Excuse me, I mean, your brother."

"Please," Amelia sighed, "I don't want to talk about that."

"So I can assume that Marty doesn't know I've adopted him?" Emmett laughed.

Amelia rolled her eyes at him. She was glad somebody could find humor in such a terrible situation. She was having some trouble herself.


Emmett went to visit Marty later that afternoon. He wanted to bring him back to the workshop but Artemus seemed to think that it would be more beneficial to his recovery if Marty stayed at his home a while longer. He also suggested that Amelia visit Marty every day to keep his morale up. Amelia didn't think Artemus McKinney gave two figs about Marty's morale, especially after Emmett told her how Artemus praised him for having such a "lovely and ladylike daughter".

Marty, on the other hand, wasn't singing Amelia's praises at the moment. Emmett had been the one to tell him about their new family connection and needless to say he was far from pleased. Amelia couldn't say she blamed him. It was a pretty stupid thing to agree with, all things considered.

"I wouldn't go over there today if I were you," Emmett said to Amelia later on when he was back at the workshop. "He needs some time to cool off and get used to the idea. He'll come around though."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Amelia said, leaning against a beam and frowning. "I don't think I could take any more of our friend Artemus today anyway."

"He's quite fond of you," Emmett said absently, oiling up the tools at his workbench.

"You mentioned," Amelia groaned. "How old is he? Forty?"

"Thirty-Two."

"That's tons better."

"Be civil to him please," Emmett said, turning towards her.

"He's creepy," Amelia said bluntly.

"Maybe," Emmett consented, "but you're supposed to be trying to blend in here. In this day and age a young, attractive, single girl with no prospects does not go about snuffing older gentlemen just because she thinks they're 'creepy'. Just be nice. And that reminds me," He added, "your new clothes are in the first stable. You can change there."

"Fine," Amelia said, crossing her arms. "I'll be nice. But if he makes a pass I'm done with this Laura Ingles crap."

Then she stalked off to change.

Emmett watched her go and sighed. He didn't know when she had grown up, but she definitely wasn't the five-year-old he had known any longer. He couldn't just tell her not to do something and just expect her to go along with it. She was turning into a woman, a woman with ideas and opinions all her own. He was confident she would be alright out in the world, she was tough like her mother. It was just that part of him missed the little girl who used to play with Barbies and follow him around his workshop like a puppy.

He was just pondering whether or not a machine designed to reverse the aging process would be scientifically possible when there was a rap on his shop door.

"Brown," a woman's voice cut harshly through the science, "I'm here for my locket. Is it fixed yet?"

Emmett turned around and then leapt from his stool.

"Oh, yes, just finished it," he said, scooping up a gold necklace from his workbench and taking it over to her. "Here you are, Miss Tannen."