Disclaimer: Everything included in the actually published Sisters Grimm series belongs to Michael Buckley.

A/N: As for the Puckabrina fluff you guys were expecting, well I'm extrememly sorry but nothing clicked so I was subjugated to camp life instead.

I sincerely am sorry so I wont make you read so much. I really hope these Daphne chappies'll be short. If not, oh well. Again, reviews are welcomed. Even if you didn't like it.

11. Myths on a Sunday Afternoon

Suspension ~ Mae

Previously...

Daphne's point of view...

"So, yeah. I'm Devin O'Faolain," he said, extending his hand.

I shook it, awkwardly replying with my name an embarrassingly late second...

...And so, I walked to the Art Hall, following a cute Scot named Devin who told interesting stories about his summers in England.

Who knows, I may even owe Sabrina 20 bucks when I get back home.

Maybe...

Devin's point of view...

The first time I laid eyes on Daphne at camp, I thought she was just another shy girl with a rebellion.

But the first time I ever saw her? Well, that's another story entirely.

...

Flashback to Summer of 1990's or early 2000's

Central Park, New York

It was a sunny summer afternoon and everyone was playing around, waiting for their parents to come pick them up from the park. Since my mum had taken Nikki off to get some ice-cream and Da was off somewhere with his friends and business corporation, I was left to wander about near the playground.

I had barely many friends back then, since we were only in America for Da's business trip, so I was subjugated to swing by meself. I was thinking about what animal I would pick to be for a day when I saw her.

She was holding a gray, worn-out teddy bear in her scrawny arms and looking around, calling some girl's name while laughing. Covering her from the soft summer breeze was a pink t-shirt and shorts with a white pair of sandals; her brown hair was made into two pig-tails, hanging slightly over her shoulders. She looked...well, as my mum would say, adorable, to say the least.

Especially her eyes. Those big moon eyes that looked like saucers, or diamonds in the sky.

Now, of course I didn't think that of her back then, a mere boy of 5. No, I was thinking: Cute. Innocent. Naive. Wait till you get to know how the real world is. Not just ponies and rainbows, like most girls think. You'll see things that'll shatter your life. Then you can laugh.

"Sabrina!" I heard the girl yell. "Brina, I know you're out there! What do you think, Tommy Bear, is she under that tree or behind the trash can?" Tommy Bear?!

As the little girl with freakles dotting her nose made her way around the play area of Central Park, I heard a giggle come from a few yards away and a flash of gold run behind a bush. I always had good vision and hearing so I wasn't as surprised as to why the brunnette was taking so long when her friend was so obviously noticable via giggle and hair.

After a while, I got tired of watching and decided to see what I could do. Since there was barely anything better going on.

"Hey, you!" I called.

"Huh?" she said, turning around. Bloody hell, that look could melt the heart of a madman.

"Who are you looking for?" I asked, smiling to meself.

"Uh, well, me and my sister are playing hide and seek..." So the girl in the bushes, Sabrina--her sister...?

"You know it's not safe to wander around in a big place like this. Especially if you're young and alone, like you are now. How do you know you wont get kidnapped?" I took the chance to flip my then-red hair out of my face so my full gaze could penetrate her. People were always mesmerized by my eyes. Let's see if she's the same.

"Um, well-- I, uh-- wha.." I had to admit, it was fun watching the little angel squirm for words.

"Tell you what, we kids gotta stick together in this park. Who knows how many evil hobos--as you Americans say--live around here, waiting for little girls and boys to walk past a tree to tie them up and cook 'em for dinner--"

"Whaaat? Hobos don't eat people, silly," the girl said, giggling and holding her teddy bear close.

"Yeah, they do," I pointed out, then leaned closer as if about to tell her a secret. "The old ones, see, they're too used to the old ways. They kidnap the little kids and take 'em to the black market to sell them for traders. But if you're caught by the younger ones, the ones that like the kids and babies better than teenagers, well..." --I stepped closer an lowered my voice to a whisper-- "...they take you underground to the sewers and tunnels--where the water from baths goes through?"

She nodded, eyes wide open. I continued.

"Well, see, they tie you up with thick ropes made of snake skin and make you lie on a bunch of wood. And they pour this purple sauce all over--made from an octopus--then they light a fire under you so your skin gets all nice and crunchy. And when you're all good and brown, with all your hair burned off--"

"Hair?!" she cried, clutching her two pig-tails for dear life and dropping her bear in the process. Tommy Bear lay on the ground for the next couple minutes, forgotten, eyes staring into oblivion.

"Yes, kid, they burn you hair right off. They have to; same reason people shave a kiwi before they cut it up and eat it."

"You mean...?" She started whimpering. Oh goodness, she was one innocent little girl.

"Mhmm, they cut off all your hair--or pig-tails--and burn off the parts that can't be cut. And when that's over, they take your eyeballs right out of their sockets with dirty, plastic sporks they garter from the janitors in the school cafeterias--"

"Old man Jim is one of them?!" she said in a high pitched tone. Oh goodness this is just too fun.

"Uh, yeah, him too." Improvisation is key.

"I can't believe this! You're making this up to scare me!" the little angel accused.

"Are you serious? Me, making this up? How dare you! I try to do one nice thing for you by warning you of hoboes and you accuse me of lying?!" I said, acting hurt in a mocking tone.

"Oookaay, then, I'm sorry...?" she asked, as if unsure what was right and what not.

"Much better; I accept your apology. But yeah, those new hoboes--they plan on cooking kids and chopping them up into limbs and livers to eat."

"You better not be joking around and teasing me! Or I'll tell Sabrina and she'll make you pay!" Oh, it was bloody hilarious how the little thing even had the nerve to threaten me like this.

"So you don't believe me? See for yourself then. And when you wind up as only bones scattered everywhere in the sewers, you're gonna wish you paid heed," I warned.

"Paid heed? What's that mean?" the angel asked, her nose crinkled as if she smelled something foul.

"It means, you're gonna be wishing you listened to me. Ha, Da told me you Americans talk funny." I rolled my eyes.

"What do you mean, talk funny? You're the one that's talking funny!" she said, stepping back.

"Oh, really? Well, I'll just go then. And leave you to find your sister." I started backing away and turning towards the path.

"Oh, yeah--Sabrina!" the little girl said, heading towards the bushes, as if just remembering the fact that she was still missing her sister.

And such was my first Sunday afternoon in New York--spent terrifying a little American girl into thinking hoboes in parks ate little kiddies up like chicken.

Who knew if we would ever meet again. A Scottish boy and an Ameican girl with a teddy bear and pig-tails. Set with destinies on two separate sides of the world.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Or was it fortunate?

A/N:

Aha, poor Daphne.

Sorry for the wait and the shortness.

Please review and I'll update.

110 or else...

PS: thanks for all those who reviewed for last chappie. Muchas gracias. Very appreciated.

Luvvies,

Ly ^^