Look! Look! I've updated! And I've also realized that I haven't explained the pairings, and I swear I will soon!

As always: Read, review, and Rachel! Oh...wait don't do the last one! She's MIIIIINE!

Fae's POV

I couldn't help my voice rising with the last few words. Can you blame me? I was so sick of having to repeat myself when it concerned my brothers. Or just repeating myself, really. And so what if he hadn't been at the train station when I had snapped at the black man? It was so completely obvious that Adam and Anthony were way too young to be exposed to that kind of thing. In my rage, I didn't notice the looks on everyone's faces. I did hear, however, Roger speak. "F-F-" I whipped around. My face was as fierce as I could make it. If he swore in front of my brothers again, I'd teach him to listen to me. He glanced at my face. "Fruck you guys."

Turning to my brothers, I combed Anthony's hair with my fingers. An annoyingly high voice giggled. "What'd you say Rog?" I tried not to laugh. Pissed or not, it was kinda amusing.

"I believe he said 'fruck'. Although, I'm not quite sure what that means." Mark answered while Roger glared daggers at him. "What does fruck mean, Rog?"

"I'll show you later." Roger replied, giving a wicked grin of his own. As he walked past Mark, he slapped him on the ass. Adam, Anthony, and I don't get to stay with Grandma and Grandpa, oh no, we get to stay with fucking homos.

Not while my brothers are here, Roger. I thought, in disgust. In fact, not while I'm here, either.

*****

The tour of the loft was relatively short. Three bedrooms, a bathroom (if you could call it that), and a living room that doubled as the kitchen. Really, the only thing I found out that was any use was the black man who had sworn in the subway station, was named Collins, and the annoying chick with the high-pitched voice was Maureen. When it was over, I tried to make the twins unpack. Tried and failed. Finally, I just let them explore the minuscule loft.

After I finished folding my pathetic belongings into the even more pathetic closet, I took out a book. The only saving glory about our room was that we had a bedroom leading to the fire escape. I took the blanket I had packed from home, and curled up with my book in the corner of the fire escape and read. Mark and the others never called me out for dinner, and I wasn't hungry. In truth, I didn't want to see them either. So I spent hours pouring over the book I had accidentally stolen from my school. Well, my old school. Since Cindy and my dad had died so abruptly, I never had a chance to return my two library books, or the book I had been assigned in Language Arts.

I moved inside when it got dark, only to realize our light bulb had burned out. Stalking out to the living room, I noticed both Adam and Anthony were completely zonked on the thread-bare couch. Collins was also asleep--Half in the chair, half out.

Collins must've got stuck babysitting... I thought. Deciding it'd be nice to have the bed to myself for a night, I went back into the bedroom, and lay down, curling under my small blanket.

It'd been a long day. I was out in seconds.

*****

Hours later, I groaned as I rolled over. Now I was awake. I couldn't ignore the fact I had to pee when I was awake. That didn't stop me from trying. After a few minutes, I had to admit defeat. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned, and rolled out of the bed. Before I even got out of the bedroom, I had smacked into the wall twice, but ending up finding the door on the third try. Finding the closed door with my forhead. In the end, I managed to stumble towards the bathroom.

Looking in the toilet, I blinked. Slowly, I wheeled around, and walked back towards the kitchen, where, I suspected, was the most likely place to find a plastic bag. To my surprise--or, what would have been surprise had I been awake enough to feel surprise--Mark was in the kitchen. He was also surprised to see me. "What are you doing up? It's.." He glanced at the clock, "Three thirty!" While he spoke, I worked on taking a bag of chips out of a plastic bag on the counter. There was nothing else in there. Waste of a plastic bag.

"I have to throw away the mouse before I can pee." I mumbled, moving back towards the bathroom. He followed closely behind.

"Is it...alive?"

"It was floating pretty well."

"It's IN the toilet?!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide. I just glanced at him, before going into the bathroom. He looked over my shoulder into the toilet. The sight of the mouse shocked him, but not as much as the cat who twisted around the back of the toilet and merrrowed loudly. The cat seemed to smile as he jumped onto the toilet seat. He was an orange tabby with a piece of paper stuck in it's collar.

"Merrow."

I couldn't help but smile as I lifted him off the toilet seat. "Are you proud of yourself?" I turned towards Mark, the smile fading. "You never said you had a cat." What if Adam or Anthony had been allergic to cats?

"We...don't..." Mark said, grabbing the note from the cat's collar. His eyes scanned the page quickly, then he smiled slightly. He held the note out to me, and I put the tabby into the tub. The note was simple:

Welcome to your new home! Take care of Pookie!

Toward the bottom of the note was a slightly smudged kiss print, and a scribble that could possibly have been a name.

I stroked the cat on the head, then turned back towards the problem in the toilet. Not a pleasant sentence. The idea that the mouse might still be alive was haunting, so to make sure, I poked it, and quickly withdrew my hand. Mark started to laugh, "Did you just poke it?" I glared at him.

"Do you ever say anything that's not obvious?" I snapped, which finally shut him up. Normally, I would have thrown out a sarcastic comment, but I was too tired, and was anxious to throw the mouse away so I could empty my bladder. The only problem was the mouse was as slippery as a bar of soap. I chased him around the (disgusting) toilet bowl, until I felt my hand close around him.

"Mewr?" The cat asked, rubbing against my arms.

"Yes, you did very good. Just don't leave it in the toilet again, okay Pookie?" I said to him, as I carried the mouse to the garbage can. When I went back into the bathroom, I shooed Mark out. Pookie tilted his head, and meowed again. I relented and let him stay. Immediately, he hopped into the sink. I turned the water on, just to see what'd he'd do. Tentatively, he leaned forward and sniffed the water. After a moment, he stuck his head under the dribble, and licked the base of the sink. "Strange cat." I muttered, shaking my head as I turned off the sink, and lifted the cat into my arms.

I curled up on the bed once again, as Pookie wandered around the room exploring. After awhile, he curled up next to me, managing to fall asleep before before me. Lucky.

The only thing I can remember thinking before I fell asleep was: One day down.

Mark's POV

Close up on the door closing behind our new 'room-mate'. A few meowing noises can be heard offset. I smiled slightly, and walked back towards my bedroom. Note the lack of snores: Roger is sitting in the bed waiting for me.

"Fae's less murderous when she's tired." Offering Roger a topic so he wouldn't remember his earlier promise. Of course, being Roger...

"Mark, she's your niece," The worse part was, he seemed impress as he spoke. Time lapse: less then a second. "Show me what you did to Fae right now."

"Roger..." Starting to speak.

"Now Mark." He said, pointing to the bed. Between his legs.

Que sigh. Roger wouldn't give up.

&&&&&

"I didn't do the to Fae." Speaking as I get dressed.

"Well your allowed to do that to me anytime you like." Que sigh.