A few days later, Jack was released from the hospital. Bobby finished what he had started. Things were once again, seeming to return to a normal state or at least normal compared to the past month or so.

Bree had gotten used to life with the Mercers. Together, they had a certain dynamic she knew she would never find elsewhere. But the house was still Evelyn's house. She didn't feel right staying there. It wasn't the staying in a dead woman's home that bothered her. She didn't know quite what it was. Maybe it was the fact that she would never know when she had earned the blessing to stay. She also didn't like being the only girl there who wasn't sleeping with one of the brothers and she wasn't about to start that. A sex change didn't look too likely either.

One day, while sitting at breakfast with Bree, Jack and Angel, Bobby asked "Did you guys notice they're selling the house across the street?"

"Oh really? I didn't know the Benjamins were moving," Angel said.

"Yeah," Jack confirmed Bobby's statement. "I noticed them putting the sign up this morning."

Bree listened to them talk, recalling memories with the family and talking about how nice the house could be if a little effort were put into it. "You guys think you could arrange a viewing of the house?" she finally asked.

"It shouldn't be too hard," Angel answered. "You know someone fixing to move to Detroit or something?"

All eyes on her, Bree confessed "Me, actually."

"So, why do you want to look at it? Just move in here," Bobby said, seemingly confused on why she hadn't moved in already.

"You guys are great. I really have enjoyed staying here, but I can't live here," Bree tried explaining. "If I move across the street, I'll be able to come over whenever and you guys can come over whenever."

"So it's basically the same. Just stay here. It's easier. Or are we not good enough for you?"

Bree could tell she should be careful about the topic because Bobby was ready to blow a fuse. Typical Bobby. "Ok, I know you're kidding," she said in an irritated tone. "Just because I grew up outside of Detroit means nothing. Don't turn this into an issue about that. I'm an adult. I don't have to justify anything to you. You want a reason, well, how about this? I've never lived by myself. It might be something I want to experience while I still can. Plus, there's this. I vocalize one idea and you have these childish freak outs. I could live with you, but I can't live with your psycho mood swings."

"What did you just day?" Bobby asked, thoroughly pissed.

"I'm not going to repeat the whole thing, so I'll sum it up. You: psycho. Me: bye bye," she said leaving to go upstairs. Bobby remained silent. Jack and Angel sat there stunned. The man who killed a dangerous gang leader had been silenced by a girl in her early twenties with a petite figure. The argument hadn't gotten too heated, but Bobby, angered, drove to the store around the corner to cool off. Bree heard the door slam and came downstairs. "Am I the only one that's noticed that for a guy like Bobby, he's really oversensitive sometimes?" she asked.

"It's impossible to know what Bobby's thinking half the time. That's just the way Bobby is. I don't think it's him being oversensitive, though. He just has a bad temper," Angel explained. Bree and Jack nodded in agreement and he then continued, "I'm sure the Benjamins wouldn't mind you taking a look at the house now. If you want, Jack or I can take you over there."

"Sounds great," Bree said. The three went to check out the house. It was perfect. The couple was apparently retiring to a different state and just wanted to get rid of the house. Between that, the fact that it wasn't in the best shape and Bree knowing the Mercers, she was able to get the house for fairly cheap.

Getting back to the Mercer house, Bree sat on the couch triumphantly. She was so elated that not even telling Bobby she was moving there would bring her down. Jack was searching the house to see if Bobby had gotten home yet when Angel told Bree, "You standing up to Bobby for what you believe in and trying to make it on your own when you could just live here, well, I respect that. I just thought you should know."

"That means a lot. Thanks, Angel. I'm not sure, though. I think I was a little hard on him. I'm actually going to go check the bar he usually goes to to see if he's there."

"I'll go with you. It's not a good idea for you to be alone in most places out here."

As opposed to arguing with him like she usually would've done had someone implied she needed the protection of a man, she agreed to have the company. Jack wanted to go, but they insisted that he looked too tired and should stay home, wile also trying to let him know his company was not unwanted, but he did need the rest. Sure enough, Bobby was at the bar. Bree insisted that Angel should go see Sofi and she would just get a ride home with Bobby. Unable to oppose her, Angel left and Bree slyly made her way to the seat next to Bobby at the bar.

"Are you planning on moving in the bar now? Because I can leave if that's the case," Bobby said sharply.

"Intense. Look, I know you want me to stay, but that's the Mercer house and despite my personality, I'm not a Mercer. Unless you want me to marry you or Jack or something," she teased.

"What if I do?" he asked in a serious tone just to see how far she'd go or how sorry she was.

"So what? What if I don't? Because my answer is not 'I do'," she stated.

"Okay, okay. I get it. You don't want to live with us. I get that," he agreed.

"It's not that I don't want to live with you guys. I just want to live on my own." She paused, finally hearing how it sounded. "That's not what I meant. You know what I'm getting at, I think. But we're cool now?"

"Yeah, we're so cool we're ice ice, baby." They laughed.

In the single moment of silence following the laughter, a tall, bald man sat in the seat on the other side of Bree. He spun he stool so she was facing him. "Excuse me," she said slightly annoyed and turned to face forward again. The man turned the stool again. She raised her eyebrows and firmly said "Not interested," and turned back around.

"Look bitch," he said, "you don't have to be interested. You just have to be-"

"There a problem, babe?" Bobby asked, putting his arm over her shoulder. She knew what he was doing. She was used to her guy friends pretending they were going out to get guys like this to back off.

"Not a one," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "This nice man just offered to pay our bill for us. Thanks so much," she said and Bobby and Bree walked out, leaving the man stunned and speechless.

Finally in Bobby's car, they let out their suppressed laughter. After a few moments, the laughter subsided and Bree asked Bobby to stop at the corner store down the street.

Twenty minutes later, they walked in the Mercer front door, laughing hysterically. Being unable to sleep, Jack was watching T.V. in the living room. They greeted each other and then Jack asked what was in the bag Bree had in her hand.

"Glad you asked," Bree said. "This bag contains the infamous happy patch." She pulled out a nicotine patch and stuck it to Jack's forehead.

"Are you joking?" Jack asked. "I'm not giving up cigarettes. And 'happy patch'? How is it 'happy' when you still have withdrawals?"

"Like this," Bree said pulling out a black marker. Mockingly, she drew a smiley face on the patch that would taunt him were he to look into a mirror. Bobby just sat there in the corner, laughing hysterically at them. "And look, we even bought you happy gum," she said pulling nicotine gum out of the bag. "I won't draw a smiley face on the gum, though. I guess we'll have to do this." She pulled the corners of his mouth up, forcing an awkward smile on his face. Bobby was still in hysterics.

"What the hell?" Jack asked, muffled by the shape his mouth was forced to remain in.

Bree released his face and answered "I talked to your doctor. He said you wouldn't have such a hard time recovering if you weren't smoking. Besides, it's gross. I mean, I refuse to kiss an ashtray. And you know what they say-kissing a smoker is like kissing an ashtray." She winked at him. She really had way too much fun being promiscuous with him and Bobby.

"I'll give it a try," he decided, "but-"

"But you'll succeed. You have no choice really. We care about you, ergo you can't smoke."

"Who thought being cared about would suck so much?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"We love you, too," Bree said in an equally sarcastic tone.

A few more weeks passed. Jack gave up smoking, despite how difficult it was. Bree moved across the street, despite her mother's wishes. She also got a job singing at the diner down the street. The times she wasn't working, she spent with the Mercers. One Friday night, after returning home from work, Bobby suggested they all go to the bar. Bree had learned the brothers were most entertaining after consuming a few beers. So they went and sat, bunched around a table that was meant for four. Bree never drank. Considering her family's history with alcohol, she decided it best not to and took it upon herself to be the designated driver.

The four brothers managed to down a couple beers each rather quickly. Wanting to know Bree's true opinions, they each asked her questions where she had to pick one of them. Bobby started by asking "Which one of us do you think is most dangerous?" He knew the answer would be him, which is why he asked. He was surprised by her answer, though.

"That one is easy. It's definitely Jerry because he has a sweater vest." The guys laughed. "What? Sweater vests are badass, man," she teased.

"Alright," Angel continued, "which one of us is the most attractive?"

"I'm not really sure. I mean, you're all related, so you all look the same to me," she said, acting like a complete ditz.

"Come on, guys," Jerry pleaded. "Let's not play this game."

"Why?" Jack asked. "Afraid you won't get picked?"

"No," he said. "Watch this. Bree, who do you think is most mature?"

"That one is obviously you, but come on, Jer, you have kids. You kind of have to be."

"Who would you choose to start a family with?" Jerry asked. She could see the question was in all of their heads, despite how weird the question was.

"Can we agree to not make the questions sexual in any way, guys? I don't want anyone reading too much into it," Bree said, purposely staring at Bobby for the last part.

"You saying you want me? 'Cause I already knew that," Bobby teased, pulling his chair closer to hers. "And if the questions can't be sexual, what can we ask?"

"Who's funniest, who's smartest, but the problem is that you're all unique. You're all smart and funny in your own way, making it hard to compare.

"Screw that," Angel said. "I still want to know who you think is the most attractive."

"Alright, fine," Bree said and indicated the bartender. "He's hottest."

"You have to pick one of us," Angel explained. "He's not a Mercer."

"Are you sure? It seems like all I see is Mercers," she teased. "I know, all other girls are jealous." She let out a laugh as if to taunt all those girls.

"Are you afraid to answer the question?" Angel tried to antagonize her.

"Ouch. What next? Are you going to start clucking and calling me a chicken? Way to be a third grader, Angel, way to be a third grader.

"Way to avoid the question. And unsuccessfully, too," Angel retorted.

"It's not unsuccessful unless I answer it and I haven't and I won't," she pointed out. "Now come on. Jerry, I'll drop you off at your house and then we'll head home. The loaded into the car and Bree had a short conversation with Camille when she dropped Jerry off, then took the other three home.


Ok, so, this chapter was a little cheesy, what with the Vanilla Ice reference. I also lacked inspiration for the last name of the family across the street, so I just did Andre 3000's real last name, so I didn't know if anyone noticed, but there it is. Anyway, I do really want to say that I really appreciate all the people that are actually reading this (unlike some of my friends that claimed they did, haha). Thanks, as always, for reading and reviews.