Disclaimer: You know it already….*Sticks out tongue* So leave me alone.

Author's Note: I'm so utterly, totally, completely, absolutely, positively, definitely, entirely, wholly, fully, unreservedly, wholeheartedly glad that y'all are enjoying my story. I personally didn't think it would turn out to be a hit with even one person, but you all seem to at least act like you enjoy it, even if you don't. I just wanted to give a tiny thanks. Thanks. ^-^ If things here seem to get TOO repetitive of the book and/or movies, just remember that I'm doing it to lead up to something that needs to happen.

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The black-robed man was quietly snoring as the guard presented the case. No one seemed disturbed by this; the man was probably one of the worst judges chosen to do anything. He mostly dealt with juvenile cases—causing half of them to end up in places worse than they deserved. His jowls hung in rows of disgusting fat and his nose was flat, causing the middle age man to look like a rather large pig. At this moment, he was supposed to be listening to the case of a man who was almost robbed in a book shop but didn't want to press charges. Instead, the book-seller was angry that all the thieves liked to steal at HIS store and wished her to go into jail.

Aster, her black hair now pulled back so the judge could see her "filthy, lying, gypsy face", was staring defiantly at the man who she had been about to rob. Finally, the judge awoke, and looked down at Aster.

"Where'd you learn 'ow to rob, girl?"

"I didn't. It's a natural born instinct in gypsies, sir," Aster replied, her face bent in an angry scowl.

"Aha! I knew it…Just as I suspected. All gypsies are liars and robbers." Sarcasm was totally wasted on the imbecile. "Well, that settles it. Guilty as charged by the bookman. Fives years in jail. Court dismissed."

Suddenly, the young man who was-to-be robbed jumped up and appeared near the girl. "Sir, I disagree with your sentence. This young woman never really stole anything from me… All the book keeper saw was her looking very suspicious. In fact, the only thing she could've taken is my watch and it's still here. I believe the book-keeper assumed she was stealing from me and that she was simply frightened and ran."

Aster's face immediately became one of precocious innocence. "Exactly."

The book-keeper sighed quietly and nodded in agreement. "That's true."

The judge rolled his eyes and began muttering. "Filthy nobles…Always trying to do good in the world…. Get repetitious after awhile. Alright! I give up. The gypsy's in custody of this young idiotic noble whom I hope gets robbed out of his wits. Court dismissed."

Dark eyes widening, Aster looked up at her new keeper who blinked slowly down at her. Suddenly, he shrugged and walked out of the room, making sure Aster was following. They both climbed into a carriage while Aster asked her first question.

"Do you really think I was innocent?"

The young man laughed and laid a charming, white hand upon her knee, whispering confidentially. "Not for a second."

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Dodger cursed, making Liam and Roger blink in shock.

"This is absolutely horrible. I don't know if that's the chap, but he's definitely slick enough to be."

"If 'oo's the chap, Dogger?"

"The guy who just drove off with our newest member… If it's who I think, we're in trouble."

Liam snorted. "Maybe he just wants Aster to do a little—"

"Liam!"

"Sorry."

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"Well, here we are, Miss Aster."

As her keeper, the young man named Edward Williams, opened the carriage door for her, Aster looked at her new home. It was set right in the middle of a row of three to four story houses along a street that was right beside a circular park. It was coloured a honey-yellow and was trimmed in white. Four stories high, it was accented with a lovely front yard that was covered in rose bushes and lovely daises. Quickly, Aster snapped shut her open mouth and climbed out, determined not to be amazed by anything in this elegant, beautiful, enchanting…place. The coach driver ran up the walkway to open the door for the two and smiled quietly at Aster's astonished look. Edward also grinned before entering the front room and hanging his black cloak on the coat stand. Aster quickly took in the inside of the house—the curved stairway that led to the bedrooms, the gold and bronze colour scheme, and the two maids who were now hurrying to welcome her.

"Ah, good. Sarah, Gabrielle, I wish for you to meet Miss Aster. She is my guest and will be living with us. Sarah, would you please take her up to the green and blue room? Gabrielle, would you have her measured once she is situated and go and buy her the appropriate attire for this neighborhood?"

"Yes, sir," the maids replied as one.

Sarah started bustling up the stairs, dwarfing the trailing Aster in her petticoats and large bone structure. She turned to the right and walked down a long corridor of bedrooms before arriving at the last one.

"Here's your room, dear. I had just aired it out… Master Edward is the one for picking up strangers and taking care of them for awhile. Why, last week there was this old man who…"

At this point, Aster had stopped listening and had instead started examining the room. It was large and a beautiful blue-green colour with many accenting pieces—a green desk and chair, a blue rocking chair and a large, large blue and green bed. The room adjoining the bedroom was a large bathing room complete with blue walls and a porcelain tub.

Aster immediately ran back into the bedroom, delight written on every line of her face. Perhaps this Edward chap was a nice person…

"Ah, the Master is the kindest man alive, I tell you. He's taken in more strays than anyone I know… Of course, Mr. Brownlow took in that nice boy Oliver and then found out they're related. They live right beside us with Ms. Rose and all but I always said, I did, that child is…"

A few keywords broke into Aster's dreaming mind and woke her up. "Oliver? Mr. Brownlow? They live here?"

"Well, yes, dearie, I just said that. Anyways, the poor child was beaten by—"

But by now, Aster was too busy putting together pieces. Hadn't Dodger called himself Jack Dawkins one night? And didn't he talk about Fagin in a sad voice every once in awhile? Mother had never mentioned a nickname for Jack Dawkins…But then she always said she had just heard the story from a visiting girl who claimed to be Nancy's friend. What if the story were true?

Suddenly, Sarah bustled back in, making Aster realize she didn't notice her leave. Well, it didn't matter if the tale were true… It just meant she had found and lived with a bunch of thieves in a story and was lucky. If what she had occasionally caught Sarah saying was true, she might as well call herself Ms. Williams and be adopted into the family.

Mother, since I must wait until summer to go to London, would you please give me some advice or get someone to write down one of your stories?

Oh, Star, you've got all my stories memorized and I've given you all the advice I know.

Then make something up, Mother.

Smile. Alright then, dear. Take any help you can get and never be too proud. If someone invites you to live with them for awhile or offers you some money because they think gypsies are just animals who are mistreated, don't be hurt…just take what they give you…

And what they don't give me, right, Mother?

Aster! I want you to learn how to be a well-bred person…Not a thief.

I'm sorry, Mother…

It's too late.