Happy New Year everyone! To celebrate, here's a nice long chapter.

Normally, tending his jungle put Shere Khan at ease from the usual business day. Even the business tycoon needed to take a break. But today, he couldn't get his young niece out of his mind.

Just like her father. His scissors chopped dry leaves. Undisciplined and unpredictable. He could forgive her for touching his books without permission, but this was too far. Still, there was too much of Rose in her too. Not just the physical resemblance or the love for reading, but the same innocent outlook on the world. The longing for companionship. How long since he looked for that too? His brother's accusations rang in his head: "Everything except listening." Shere would never admit to Silas being right, but he did remember the last time Rose spoke to him.

It was after the mayor cancelled his contract for Whistlestop Jackson. He had stormed off the stage with his hands clenched, wishing he could clench them around Jackson's throat. He barely heard the feminine voice behind him. "Shere, it's not the end of the world."

"It's the beginning of failure, that's what it is," he growled.

"So the mayor cancelled one contract. What's the big deal? You still have-"

"The big deal," he whipped around to face her. She flinched at his sharp tone. "Is that that contract was supposed to bring my business to the top. If the mayor favors some grinning hero-wannabe-"

"And what makes you so special?" Rose snapped. "While you sit behind a desk, some people are taking real risks."

"Business is full of risks." Shere eyed his rival giving his acceptance speech; some half-baked nonsense about being humbled and putting the people first. Shere didn't get the full message because he was still seething at that wide grin. "Risks that people don't appreciate when they are blinded by hero worship," he continued. A gentle hand touched his shoulder but he ignored it. "This isn't over." The hand drew back as if touching burning coals.

"Shere Khan," Rose raged. "If there was ever a more arrogant, greedy, stubborn," if her insults got to him, he didn't show it. His eyes were still fixed on the stage. He didn't even hear the woman storming off and muttering, "Clueless too."

At the time, Shere just let her words wash over him, like he did with everyone else, but it had cost him two special people. He didn't attend their wedding, and he didn't write back when they sent a letter with the picture of their newborn. He was too busy, and he wasn't cut out as a family man. Two reasons why taking her in was a mistake. He could neither fathom why he said yes, nor why he couldn't call his brother right now. His motto in business was, "Always pay your debts and never break a deal." He owed Silas nothing. If anything Silas owed him.

Shere tried distracting himself by feeding another fly. In all his years building Khan Industries, he learned that business was like a jungle. And the jungle was one thing he understood. He now realized keeping a child was like a jungle: unpredictable and restless.

Perhaps, he watched the flytrap chew the fly, it's not too late.

Eliza lay on her bed with Treasure Island flat on her chest. Not even Jim's adventures could distract her of her imprisonment. If anything, they tormented her. Life seemed so much easier in books. There was always a clear ending. Right now, she would rather take her chances with Long John Silver. She stared out the window. The thrill of that ride repeatedly played in her head. What she wouldn't give for that freedom again. This time, she would gladly fly as far from this place as possible.

Hurry up, Dad.

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She jolted up as if a bee stung her. She might as well expect the grim reaper knocking. Nevertheless, she said, "Come in" knowing that refusing would be even worse. By now, she almost got used to the stern look frozen to Shere's face, but if he was coming to her, something must be wrong.

"Follow me," he said, walking out. She followed him into the elevator. "I figured we can make better make your punishment more productive instead of moping in your room all the time. So," the elevators opened, and he led her to the wide flower boxes. "You're going to help me tend to my jungle."

"That's it?" At first, she only saw a sea of green with large purple flowers. Those flowers opened up, revealing rows of hideous teeth, snapping hungrily at the air. Eliza recoiled. "You gotta be kidding! Those things?"

"Those things," he dragged out 'things' like it was an insult, "can understand you."

Is he trying to get rid of me?

"If I wanted to get rid of you, I wouldn't have interfered with your stunt yesterday."

Now he was a mind reader? "What makes carnivorous plants less dangerous?"

"They're on the ground, for one thing." He approached the jungle with a jar. "And I'm familiar with them. Do you know why they never attack me?" The flytraps stopped snapping, watching him with respect.

"Because they're afraid of you?"

"Because I'm the one who feeds them." From the jar, he drew a squirming fly between his claws, and held above one of the plants. In one snap, the fly was gone. Eliza shuddered, sorry for the fly, but grateful that it wasn't her. Shere picked up another fly and held it to her. Her eyes widened, realizing what he wanted her to do.

"Is this necessary?"

"If you don't want to get bitten, yes."

"Or I could just stay away from them."

"Unfortunately, this is part of your punishment, so you have no say in this."

She begrudgingly took the fly. Its wings tickled her fingers. "This doesn't seem fair to the fly."

"The same happens in a real jungle," Shere shrugged. "I'm just giving the plant an advantage. Business works the same way," he pinched another squirming bug. "As does life. There are the eaters and the eaten." The next plant snapped up the insect. "You may feel sorry for the fly, but what about the plant? Should it starve?"

This made sense, however cruel it sounded. She approached the smallest plant she saw, and hopefully the least dangerous. It leered at her with saliva dripping down its jaws. She wondered if it would prefer a bigger meal…like her. Her trembling arm stretched toward it. She nearly jumped out of her fur when it snapped the insect out of her fingers.

"Well done," said Shere. Eliza could have sworn she heard approval.

Panting, she checked her fingers to make sure she still had all ten, until something small and hard bumped into her stomach. She stiffened and slowly lowered her gaze. The plant nudged her like a kitten. Too surprised to be scared, she stroked the smooth surface. No mistaking it, the plant was definitely purring. Eliza found herself giggling.

"Looks like it will let you trim its leaves," said Shere, handing her a pair of gloves and garden shears. "Only the dry ones."

As Eliza worked, the small flytrap continued nuzzling her arm. The rest were just as easy. She didn't have to worry about getting bitten once. It still took a few feedings before they didn't make her sick, but it was rewarding when they nuzzled her. The little one she first fed proved to be the feistiest, shoving the others out of the way like a baby competing for mom's attention. Eliza laughed, scratching its head and secretly naming it Peter Pan.

She glanced at her uncle's work, surprised to find him scratching under their chins before trimming them. She never would've pegged him as affectionate, but these were the only plants as scary as him. Or at least, they were at first. She stroked a large head. She was wrong about the plants, what else was she wrong about?

After feeding her tenth flytrap, Eliza gathered the courage to ask the question that weighed her down. "Uncle Shere, can I ask you something?

"Hm?"

Eliza took a deep breath. "Why do you fight with my dad?"

His shears paused midway between cutting. For a moment, the only sound was the plant munching on the fly. She should've been used to these pauses. While it didn't make her uncomfortable this time, it still set her on edge. The flytrap seemed to sense something was wrong because it tugged on her shirt with its teeth. Eliza got distracted, tugging her shirt back.

"We had separate goals," he finally answered.

"So?"

"Your father was less ambitious. We studied at the same business school, along with your mother, but your father always had his mind on planes."

Eliza smiled. That part she could guess on her own.

"I did offer him a job with my pilots, but he insisted on making his way with the world independently. Stubborn fool that he is."

"He is not! He followed his dream."

"And where has that led you two?" He didn't take his eyes off his work. Eliza opened her mouth, but nothing came out. "Your dreams will only get you so far until you need money. Otherwise," he paused to look her way, "you wouldn't need to stay with me now, would you?"

Eliza had no answer. She remembered their sad little apartment too well. She had to grow up fast and practice patience when her father worked late. To fill the pause, she fed another plant. It purred and she scratched its head and chin.

"You're still young," her uncle continued. "So, you might not understand now."

"I think I do." Eliza kept her attention on the plant, comforted by its purring. When her uncle said nothing, she looked back at him to find him still watching. For once, his look didn't scare her. Although his facial muscles remained the same, his eyes were different. Almost…sad.

He slipped off his gloves. "I think that's enough for today." Surprised by her own disappointment, Eliza the plant one last pat. "By the way, how are you doing in school?" That was the first time he ever asked. "Your father would want to know."

"Doing okay, but math is killing me." The reminder hit her like a tsunami. She slumped her shoulders and planted her palm on her face. "Oh cripes!"

"There will be no need for such language."

"Sorry!" She straightened like a soldier at attention. "I just remembered I have homework due Monday."

"I see." Shere tapped his claws on his desk.

"Well," Eliza sighed. "Guess I better get to it."

"Will you be able to figure it out on your own?"

Eliza shrugged.

"Then you best bring it down here."

Eliza's eyes widened. "You mean you'll help?"

"I'll set you on the right track, but I still have work to fill out." He sat at his desk and shuffled through a stack of papers. "And no Khan is failing something as simple as math." Eliza snickered. She didn't know what was funnier: him calling math simple or acknowledging her as a Khan. Her amusement didn't go unnoticed. "Well, go get it," Shere urged. Eliza shuffled out, knowing better than to ignore that command.

To her surprise, homework in the office wasn't so bad. She sat on the edge of the jungle box by the desk, allowing the flytraps to nuzzle her while she worked. Peter Pan, finally calmed down to rest on her shoulder. Despite the offer, she tried figuring out the problems on her own because Shere always had an intense expression during his own work. Instead, he would stop his work to ask her.

What Eliza didn't know was that she had a similar look on her face when she thought hard. Between his own work, Shere would catch that look out of the corner of his eye. As promised, he would only give a small hint to get her to working on her own. After which, there was less frustration in her eyes and pure figuring. While one hand scratched away at the problems, the other gently stroked the tiny flytrap on her shoulder. Shere Khan's chest swelled with pride.

They were interrupted when Shere's employee John entered.

"Uh, Mr. Khan," he said nervously. "It's time to take-oh," he froze when he saw Eliza. Eliza smiled. John smiled back, but he couldn't help shuddering when he noticed the flytrap on her shoulder. Those things always gave him the creeps. They tried eating him from time to time.

"Well," said Shere. "What is it?"

"Oh sorry, sir. I just came for your coffee order."

"Yes, yes, the usual." He kept his eyes on his papers. As John started shuffling out, something crossed his mind. "Hold on."

John scurried back. "Yes, sir."

Shere turned to his niece. "Anything?"

At first, Eliza just stared, but then noticed John grip his tail, smiling. He must have been excited to have another task if it meant finding favor with his boss.

"Can I have hot chocolate?" she asked.

"One hot chocolate and one coffee comin up!" said John, bounding out of the office. He returned to set two mugs on the desk. Shere sipped from his mug without even acknowledging his employee, but Eliza thanked him he left. Neither had noticed Shere looking at his drink with a raised eyebrow, but when Eliza sipped her own, a strong bitterness overwhelmed her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty, coughing and sputtering.

"Ah," Shere nodded in realization. "I think you got mine." They traded mugs and Eliza chugged a mouthful, letting it sit before swallowing and exhaling.

"How do adults drink that stuff?"

"Wait till you are one." Shere sipped his coffee nonchalantly. Either Eliza was imagining things, or that was real amusement in his eyes.

Lost in their work, neither Khans were aware of the setting sun. Shere's nose was buried in paperwork and he forgot to check on Eliza's progress. By the time he did, she was fast asleep. The larger flytraps supported her with their thick stems while their leaves formed a pillow. The smallest one rested on her chest, cradled in her hands.

Shere considered waking her up, but once he saw how late it was, he decided to check her homework instead. Shere Khan was rarely surprised, but he didn't count on his help being that efficient. The girl was a fast learner. She was a Khan after all.

He decided to let her rest. No doubt Eliza had exhausted her brains out. He couldn't imagine those plants being comfortable, but somehow the child slept with a content look on her face. She might as well have already been in a normal bed right now. Most people would worry the plants were saving her for their next meal, but he wasn't most people. It looked like she wasn't either.