The footsteps clattered on the pavement, bouncing off of shops, carts, and restaurants, most of which were closing for the night. It had been nearly an hour since Phantom R's classic getaway, but still Charlie dashed through the streets, searching for the criminal.

All around, the windows reflected the radiant moonlight above, surrounded by the company of starry hosts. The desperate girl hardly noticed the beautiful scenery, so focused was she on her mission. She turned down every street, scouring every inch of Paris, quietly scolding herself.

"How could I have let him get away? How could I have been so foolish? Phantom R, I swear, if I find you, I'll put you behind bars before you can say 'Showtime.'"

Suddenly, she found herself face-to-face with the pavement. Fortunately, her toned reflexes had allowed her to catch herself on her hands, and her aggressive play style had inured her to the pain of falling, but the irritation was in no way lessened. As she stood, cursing the dreadful gown that had caused her to fall, she looked to the sky, shaking an angry fist at the black abyss.

"Where are you, Phantom R?!"

"The market?" Marie looked at Raphael in confusion as they stood outside a produce store, the curtains drawn shut over the large, glass windows.

In reply, he winked, tilting his head. "I need to pick up a few things."

"But," she said, lowering her voice, "all the shops are closed. You can't get inside." She looked up and down the streets, empty aside from the two of them-three, counting Fondue. Turning back to Raphael, she started. He was no longer Raphael, but had switched into his Phantom R guise once again.

Tipping his hat, he gave her a sideways glance. "Raphael can't, but Phantom R, on the other hand..." He spun around, walking slowly away from her.

"No!" Covering her hand with her mouth, she grabbed his shoulder. He looked back at her, confused. "You can't break in!"

The Phantom faced her, contemplating his response. He had broken into museums and the like countless times, and had stolen things much worse than a lemon or two. This couldn't be so bad... could it? He couldn't simply wait until morning to walk in and buy the fruit. Where was the style in that? Compared to an exciting escapade, an ordinary shopping trip seemed... lame. As he studied Marie, however, her face demanded otherwise.

The way her eyes bore into his heart, striking his conscience with a rough blow, was enough to change his mind. Defeated by the most gentle attack, he sighed. "Alright. We'll have to come back in the morning. Until then, it's late. Let's head back to my apartment."

Soaked, tired, and still in this awful dress. Still, no sign of Phantom R! That's it. I'm going home. Wait... I left my key at home! Oh, curse this pocketless fluff of pink. What am I supposed to do now? I can't very well go parading back to Father. Why does my life stink?

"Hey, Charlie," a voice called from above, "is that you?"

She shut her eyes, turning her face to the second floor window of the apartment building. "Yeah," she groaned. "It's me, Dakota." How could she have been so mindless as to make the mistake of passing Dakota's apartment? Of course, he would be up this late, having nothing better to do than look out the window until she should meander by in her hopeless state.

"Whoa. Are you okay? What are you wearing?" He smiled down at her, looking as though any moment might bring him into a burst of laughter.

She knew that face all too well-his raised eyebrows, his mouth cocked in a dorkish half-smile, his entire face reflecting all the humorous thoughts inside. She had seen it too many times before. Just the same, she found herself smiling back. Maybe coming by Dakota's wasn't such a big mistake.

"Hold on," he called down. "I'll be right there." He disappeared, appearing moments later at the complex's front door. "Can you come in? My mom's asleep, and I'm bored. Whoa..." His eyes looked over the dress, now smudged with dirt, and his face softened, his mouth hanging open as he stared at his friend.

She scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. It's terrible. Anyway, I can hang out, at least for a while. I can't get into my house, and my dad won't be home for some time, so I really have no better place to be."

Giving himself a quick shake, he held the door open, letting Charlie inside. His voice lowered, clogging in his throat, the way it always did when he wanted to make a joke. "Well, well. It seems you have an exciting story for me."

She laughed, glad she had come by. "You're such a dork."

"Well," Raphael smiled, "we're back." He flipped the lights on, looking to Marie. "You don't mind staying, do you? I mean, it might be a little dangerous for me to take you home tonight, with all of the police force gathered around your house and all, and I couldn't really send you home alone in the middle of the night. Besides," he finished, "I still need your help."

The girl stepped over to him, a questioning look on her face. "I don't mind," she answered, "but I don't understand. What do you need me to do?"

Moving to straighten up the bed-he always forgot to make it on important days-he narrowed his eyes in thought. "My father left me the portrait for a reason," he explained. "It is one of very few works that bear the mark on the coin my father gave me. The fact that it was in Duchess Elizabeth's ballroom means something, and it might be connected to you. Do you know anything about the woman in the painting."

Marie shook her head. "My mother hasn't told me anything about her. I never even noticed her before tonight."

"Huh," he said, only barely disappointed. "That's alright. We'll find out more in the morning. For now," he smiled, turning over the sheets on the bed, "you need to get some sleep. You can have the bed. I have some work I need to finish up."

Too tired to protest, Marie slipped off her shoes, let down her hair, and sat on the edge of the mattress. "Raphael," she began, rather shyly, "thank you."

He looked to her, nodding once, his face pink. "Anything for you, Marie. Goodnight."

She smiled, then slipped into the covers, laying her head on the soft pillow. Soon after Raphael had turned off the lights, she was fast asleep.

As she lay there, her hair lying daintily about her pale face, the boy watched her adoringly. He slipped from his chair, coming to the side of the bed, leaning over her quietly, his hand resting on her delicate cheek. He pressed his lips gently against her forehead.

With that, he grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, and curled up on the floor, his head on Fondue's side. As he fell asleep, his heart brimmed over in joy, love, and thankfulness. In the silence of the apartment, he offered up a simple, grateful prayer. "Thank you, God, for Marie."

So, you guys met Dakota. I know you only got a short glimpse of him, but... what do you think? Don't worry. He gets better. (He's seriously one of my favorite OCs, so I hope you like him, too!) ^.^

God bless!

-LittleBrotherSocket