*Chapter 10*

Silver Fists was saved by the bell, literally. She had just opened her mouth to make up some silly excuse when Spot and Bottle Cap reappeared, causing the bell over the door to tingle. Bottle Cap guessed what the commotion was about when she saw the pleading face of Silver.

"Uh, Silver?" Caps walked up behind Dragonfly with Spot. "Can we talk for a second?" Silver sighed with relief.

"You bet." She smiled, standing, "Be back in a flash, fellahs." With that, Bottle Cap and Silver Fists left the building, leaving Spot to have a drink with his old friends.

"Spot's my brother." Bottle Cap shreeked when they were outside, heading back to the lodging house.

"What?" Silver exclaimed inquisitively, this whole mess exciting her.

"Yep, just like back in 2002! It's my fic, the one I haven't even finished, about me finding my brother. Just one thing, the only things that are like what I wrote are the Goodbakers and Spot so far." Bottle Cap rambled on.

"Da Goodbakahs?" Silver inquired, seemingly lost.

"Oh yeah, it's a long story but the Goodbakers adopted me...It's a long story and it dosen't matter now." She gave up, not having the brain power to explain it all.

"Well, thanks fer savin' me back deah, Caps. Dey was all askin' how I knew you." She told her as they entered the Lodging House and headed straight for the stairs.

*Inside Tibby's*

"How's it rollin', Jacky-boy?" Spot asked, seating himself leisurely in an empty chair.

"Well, I ain't shoah." He chuckled. "Evah since Bottle Cap showed up, things have been confusin'. Foist, she knew all our names when she woke up aftah bein' out fer a long time..."

"Bein' out?" Spot interjected seriously, only now realizing what Bottle Cap had said about hitting her head. He had thought she was making lame excuses, not being for real.

"Yeah, she was hit awfully hawd. I think she was beat perdy bad but da gash on 'er head was da woist." Jack shrugged, not realizing that this was important to the Brooklyn leader.

"Do ya know who did it?" Spot demanded, pushing a sweating glass away from his hand.

"What's dis?" A short girl with shoulder length brown hair spoke up, having overheard the conversation. "Spot Conlon ca'es 'bout someone 'sides himself?"

"A coise, I's ca'e 'bout 'er, Spin." Spot glared at the girl with evident hatred, "You should, too."

"Why should I ca'e?" Spin's lips split into a smile, "She's prolly jist anuddah one a ya goils." She shrugged, turning to walk away.

"She ain't me goil." Spot grabbed Spin's arm, catching her by surprise, "She's me sistah, an' dat makes 'er your sistah."

"Let go of me." Spin sneered, jerking out of his grasp. Jack only looked on in silent interest as the girl's icy blue eyes narrowed, "You'se a liah, Conlon." Was all she said before rushing off toward the door.