Only half-way to the pier, Damian realized that in their haste, they had left Elizabeth asleep on the couch. Conveniently, Will's house was coming up on their way, so Damian pulled up to the short driveway and sent Will on his way with a key to his house.

Jack scoffed. "Smooth. Leave Liz."

Damian stared at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Me? What's wrong with me? What about what's wrong with you?"

"There is nothing, nothing wrong with me. But you need to control your anger."

Jack suddenly broke down. "Where is she? Why did she run?"

Damian turned the final corner. "I don't know, Jack."

~***~

Ana stared absentmindedly at the ceiling of her World History classroom. Liz Swann had never come over, and Ana had been worried, but by the time she realized no one could get so lost as to be two hours late, even by her brother's directions, it was too late to call. Maybe Liz had been sick.

Ana resolved to not only call the Spade residence when she got home, but also the Swann residence.

Liz hadn't been in school either. . . she probably was sick.

~***~

Will unlocked the big cherrywood doors and opened them slowly, flinching at the loud creaks. He walked into the living room to see Liz Swann's eyes beginning to flutter open.

"Will? Where is everyone else?" She asked in a tired voice.

"Out. . . I'm here to take care of you for a little while."

Liz smiled faintly. "Alright," She said quietly before drifting back to sleep.

Will looked at her. Sure, she was a girl, and Damian was his only (or at least he was pretty sure he was his only), but she did look like an angel when she slept. . .

~***~

Damian rolled out of the car and looked around. His short sister wasn't in plain sight, but he had a few good ideas where to look.

Jack didn't even argue as he followed the man in front of him around. For once, he knew that it was time to shut his mouth.

Then walked up to the pier, which was closed, but went onto it anyway. Damian knew how Venice loved to piss of the shore patrol.

And how conveniently were two of them there, patrolling the docks.

They stopped the two boys with a shout. "NO CIVILIANS ON THE PIER!"

Jack spun around to face him. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. If I see one, I'll be sure to let you know." He grabbed Damian's arm and started to walk off.

The two patrollers ran in front of them and stopped them. Jack rolled his eyes, but turned on his charm. "So how is it that two upstanding gentlemen as yourself were stuck on shore patrol, when there is so much more important things to prevent in town?"

The first one blushed. The second one thought about this, then said, "Well, someone has to watch the docks."

Damian inched away. Jack cocked his head. "An honorable task, to be sure," He said, trying to walk around them. The moved over to stop him again.

"It is! Someone has to watch the pier and keep it clean. The lack of pollution is the pride of Port Royale."

Jack nodded thoughtfully, being careful not to watch as Damian rushed down the edge of the dock. "I've heard of one cleaner. Nigh a grain of sand on it. Port Pumpkin."

The first one scoffed. "Port Pumpkin is only in fairytale stories."

The second one looked at him. "No it isn't. I've heard of it before."

"Yes, in fairy tale stories."

Jack watched as the two bickered.

"Not in fairy tales! It's on my map!" And with that the second man pulled out his map and unfolded it, hiding both faces and any view of Jack. He slipped quietly away.

~***~

Jack found Damian crawling down a ladder off the side of the dock, to a sandy beach below. Once both boys were on the ground, Damian lead him to a pile of rocks, then around it.

Behind it was a little cave with a rock chair and a few magazines covered in sand. A sweatshirt was bunched up in the corner. Jack's.

"She was here," Jack pointed out his sweatshirt.

"But for how long, and how long ago?" Damian said. "She probably left. . . with no coverage. Jesus."

Jack delved into the topic. "What are they?"

Damian opened his mouth to argue, but Jack cut him off and said, "No. No excuses. I need to know now."

Damian sighed. "It's a curse, really. When she was younger, she was very sick. At the time my parents were hugely into religion, and believed only a special priest could save her. She was dying. . ." Damian paused, "And the doctors had said she wouldn't live. But we went to this man; he was more of a witchdoctor than a priest, and he burned the marks into Venice's skin. . .i'm not sure what anything meant, because I was the same age, 11. She was actually 10 I believe.

"But there was a problem. A group very against this witchdoctor believed that this would. . . alter Venice. They believed she had to be killed. We've moved dozens of times to escape them. And they know her by two things; her eyes and her markings."

Jack nodded. "She called them angelic markings. . ."

"That's what they are. I'm not sure what area of religion they would come from but. . . anyway. This terrorist group has spies everywhere. We had to change our names. Venice's real name was Paris. For the city she was born in."

"Strange name. Didn't fall far from the original, did we? Both are cities," Jack shrugged, "What was yours?"

"Guy (pronounced Gee. . . it's french). That's how it's supposed to be pronounced. We lived in France for a long time, and when we moved here, no one seemed to get that it was pronounced Gee, not Guy. So for a while I was Guy. But then I was Carter, and James."

Jack nodded again. Though he had no idea what was going on with the religion portion, he understood being chased.

"Well I'm very glad you decided to share an important secret with someone we barely know," sang a soft, melodious voice from above. Venice sat on a ladder up to the pier.

Her hair was down and she had a tank top on that Jack didn't recognize. The dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders and partially hid her face. The baggy pants she was wearing folded over her fat sneakers and she toyed with a hole in the left knee of her pants.

"Ah, Venice!" Damian said lightly, "We we just talking about you."

"And searching for me I see. And don't you mean Paris, Guy?"

Damian rolled his eyes. Jack suddenly realized that he was simply playing his cards in a most strategic way.

"Of course not. Names seem less than permenant around here. So it wouldn't matter much what I called you."

He held up his hand. "Let's see, there's Venice, of course, then Paris. And MaryJane, you loved that one. That was the one you first changed to. And Etta, after Etta James. And what was the last one?"

Personally, Damian knew that her having to say the name would hurt her. There was history with the third name she'd received. "Wasn't it from that movie. . . what was it. . . ?"

Venice jumped off the ladder, landing on her feet surprisingly well. "Vienna. Vienna you idiot."

Damian smirked. She looked like she was going to try and murder him. "From which movie? Wasn't it 'Chocolat'?"

Venice frowned and lunged at Damian, who had anticipated her move. Then he looked to Jack.

"You go up the ladder first, Jack. Make sure she doesn't run off at the top. I'll follow her. Paris, we're going home."

~***~

Elizabeth reawoke with a slight headache and a sharp pain in her shoulder. She groaned and woke Will up, who stretched out his tense back from the odd position he had fallen asleep in on the chair across the room. Elizabeth looked at him. 'God, he's cute when he's tired.'

"Mornin', Will," Liz said, sitting up carefully. "What's for breakfast?"

Will laughed. "We'll find you something."

Will lead her out to the large kitchen, and opened the refridgerator, bending down to look in it. By the time Liz was up close to him, he had closed the fridge door and opened the freezer. After a moment of him looking around, he turned.

And was extremely surprised to see Liz so close. She had been looking over his shoulder, and in fact was just about to point out something, and her arm had landed on Will's shoulder.

Convenient position.

'Wow. . . he has gorgeous eyes,' Liz thought. She caught him glance down at her lips, and took the oppurtunity.

And Will didn't argue.