Sherry had decided to take a walk. Richie had warned her that it was dangerous to go out on her own, but she was bored and tired of being escorted everywhere and generally being treated like a child unable to take care of herself. She was 20 years old, for God's sake. Plenty old enough to take care of herself, and she had yet to find anyone chasing after her with a sword.

Actually, now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen or felt any other immortals around here. How did she know that Duncan and Richie weren't the bad guys, trying to get her to trust them and let her guard down so they could kill her at their leisure? Or maybe they had just made up all that about the Gathering so they could control her.

So she had decided to take a walk while Richie was out doing... whatever it was he did when he left. It was a nice day out, warm but not hot, the sky clear blue, the breeze smelling slightly of salt from the sea. A truly lovely morning. She was just thinking about going to find something to eat when she saw a young boy stumble out of one of the houses. He paused, shoving something into the pocket of his jeans, then started to limp down the street.

"Hey!" she called after him. "Hey kid!"

He didn't even look around. He just kept walking away from her down the street. Irritated, she walked after him. He was limping badly enough that it didn't take long for her to catch up.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Fine," he snapped tightly.

"You look hurt."

He gave her a look of disgust. "How astute of you to notice."

"Look... maybe we should get you to a doctor."

"No! I'll be fine."

"Did... did your father do this to you?"

"No, my father didn't do anything to me," he snapped.

"Are you sure? It's okay if he did – it's not your fault. But you should really see a doctor and if your dad's abusing you–"

Now the boy stopped and turned to face her. "My dad didn't do anything to me. And I'll be fine. Just leave me alone."

"You don't have to lie to protect him, you know. He's the one who did something wrong and if he's hurting you, someone should really put a stop to it."

The boy groaned in disgust and resumed walking.

"Come on, at least let me get you cleaned up. You might get an infection."

"And what's it to you if I do?"

"No one deserves to be hurt. Please, let me help you."

"What do you think you are, a saint?"

Sherry sighed. "If your dad didn't do this to you, who did? Someone had to have; people don't just spontaneously develop injuries like this."

The boy's lips quirked. "Maybe I do."

"Come on, tell me what happened."

The boy sighed, clenching his fists and glaring defiantly into her eyes. "Alright, I'm a whore and one of my customers did 'this' to me. Happy now?"

Sherry blinked at him, somewhat taken aback by his reply. "Well... then you should really see a doctor and get tested for AIDS or other STDs."

The boy groaned in annoyance. "Can't you just mind your own business?"

Sherry shook her head. "Nope. I'm Sherry, by the way."

"Really."

"So you want to come home with me and I'll get you something to eat and take a look at you're injuries?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Sherry shook her head. "Not really."

"Then fine. Let's go."

Sherry grinned and proceeded to lead him back to Richie's apartment. "So what's your name? And whatever happened to your family?"

"Not very good with subtlety, are you?"

Sherry shook her head. "No, subtlety was never one of my strong points."

The boy hesitated. "I'm Erik. And my family disowned me."

"...oh." They walked in silence for several minutes before Sherry asked, "Why'd they disown you?"

The boy flushed, staring at his feet. "'Cause I'm gay."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard, not having a family."

Erik didn't respond and Sherry decided to leave it there.



When Richie had arrived back at his apartment to find the Sherry gone, he had been torn between the fear that she could very well be dead and relief that he didn't have to deal with her for at least a little longer.

After calling first Mac and then Jerome to see if she was with either of them, Richie had tried to figure out where she could have gone. He had been about to go looking for her when he felt an immortal's presence. Looking out the window, he saw her, walking next to some skinny brown-haired kid who couldn't have been more than 13.

Richie sat down casually on the sofa and flipped on the TV, leaning back and pretending to be watching. He looked up when she entered.

"Oh, so nice of you to come back."

She flushed. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to take a walk and–"

"You just wanted to take a walk and… what? Get your head chopped off? And who's your friend?"

She glanced at the boy. "His name's Erik. I found him on the street–"

"And what? You decided to keep him as a pet?"

"He was hurt! He'd been raped! I couldn't just leave him."

"Actually, you could have and he wouldn't really have minded," the boy muttered.

Richie turned to him briefly. "Shut up." The kid shrugged. Richie turned back to Sherry. "You couldn't have at least left a note telling me where you'd gone? Do you want to get killed?"

"No, I just..."

Richie shook his head. "Whatever. If you die, it ain't my problem. So what about this kid?"

"His family disowned him because he's gay and he's been living on the street for–"

"Two years," the kid supplied, looking vaguely amused.

"– two years... as a whore."

Richie shrugged. "So it wasn't really rape, then, if he's a whore."

Sherry stared at him in horror. "Do you think he likes selling his body? He's just a kid, Richie. He's only–"

"Twelve," the boy filled in.

"He's only twelve. No twelve-year-old should have to sell his body to live. Gay or not, he should have a family... he should be going to school and hanging out with friends and being a kid. He shouldn't be on the street."

Richie looked at her, remembering his own, parentless childhood. "But he is... so are a lot of kids."

"But that doesn't make it right. At least we can give him some food and take him to a doctor or..."

"Fine. Go make us some lunch."

Sherry smiled and vanished into the kitchen. Richie shook his head. Maybe he should let her bring home kids more often. Every time he had suggested that she try cooking before, she had given some speech about women's rights and blah blah blah. Not that Richie didn't support women's rights, but asking her to prepare dinner or clean up after herself (since she was living in his house and eating his food) hadn't seemed like an infringement on her rights to him.

Erik had flopped down on the sofa, making himself quite at home.

"So, why are you living with Miss Bossy over there?" the kid asked.

Richie rolled his eyes. "It's a long story."

"You know," Sherry called from the kitchen, "You could always adopt him."

"What?!" Richie spun around to find her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling at him.

"You or Duncan or one of your friends... it's not like you don't have the time. Give him a home, a parent. Contribute something to society instead of just going around fighting people."

"Sherry," Richie hissed, giving a meaningful look at Erik. Hadn't he told her mortals weren't supposed to know about immortals? And the boy was most definitely mortal.

"What?" she asked innocently. "Just think it over, okay?"


After they finished lunch, Sherry asked Erik to go get cleaned up.

"So, are you going to adopt him?" Sherry asked once the boy was out of the room.

"What?"

"Are you going to adopt him? I mean, it's not like you can have children of your own and he needs a home, so..."

Richie looked at her. "What makes you think I want a kid? And anyway, it's too dangerous for us to have children."

"But he's not a baby. He's old enough to take care of himself a bit. And he'd probably be better off hanging with you anyway. Plus, you're immortal, so it's not as if you're giving up that much of your life. What's ten years when you can live for centuries?"

"So why don't you adopt him?" Richie asked, for lack of a better answer.

"Because I'm only 20, I'm still in school and don't have a job and can't even defend myself, much less him."

Richie shook his head. "No. I'm not adopting him, and that's that."

"Why not? Because he's gay?"

Richie stared at her, appalled by the question. "No, not because he's gay. Because I can't afford to have a kid tagging around with me. Because my life's too dangerous for children."

Sherry folded her arms. "What, are you a homophobe? Is that why you won't adopt him?"

Richie sighed. "No, I'm not a homophobe. I have nothing against gays. I just–"

"Then why don't you adopt him, if you don't mind that he's gay?"

Richie resisted the sudden urge to smack her and turned away. "I don't have time for this," he spat, walking into the living room.

"So you are a homophobe! You won't even admit it, but you are!" Sherry called after him from the kitchen.

Richie flung himself down on the couch, turning on the television.

"You know you are!"

Richie turned up the volume to drown out her voice. When he looked again, she had begun clearing the table. Richie considered asking her to try not to break the dishes, but decided it wasn't worth it. He could always buy more.

The doorbell rang. Richie turned off the TV and answered it. It was Mac and Jerome.

"Hey, come on in," Richie greeted them.

"Did you find Sherry?" Mac asked.

Richie nodded towards the kitchen where Sherry was still attempting to smash his dishes as she stuffed them into the dishwasher. "She decided to take a walk. Came back with a twelve year old boy she wants me to adopt."

Jerome looked unsurprised.

"His name's Erik and his parent's disowned him because he's gay, or so she says. He's a prostitute. Right now he's in the bathroom washing up." Richie paused. "He did look pretty badly hurt."

Jerome nodded. "I take it you aren't keen on adopting a kid just now."

Richie shook his head. "No. I'm an immortal. My life's too dangerous for kids. But now Sherry says I'm a homophobe because I won't adopt him."

"Yeah," Jerome sighed. "She says that whenever anyone does something she doesn't like, whether it makes any sense or not."

Sherry finished clearing the table and came into the living room. "Jerome!" she cried when she caught sight of him and ran over to kiss him.

"So... have any of you looked at the paper today?" Jerome asked.

Richie shook his head. "Not yet."

"Why?" Mac asked.

"Well... there was this article about this kid who turned up beheaded yesterday." Jerome glanced at them. "The thing is, he'd been killed in a car accident a week ago, but his body had vanished from the morgue. Then they found him, lying in some alley. Untouched except for that he'd been beheaded. Like the car accident never happened. But it's him. It's his head. They did a DNA test and it's him. And apparently, this isn't the first kid to turn up headless. There've been four other incidents in the last month, except that the others were all street kids, homeless. So the police didn't look too hard."

Sherry looked from Jerome to Mac to Richie. "You think an immortal killed them?"

Mac nodded. "I can't think why else five kids would turn up headless. They were probably pre-immortals themselves."

"You know who might be doing this?" Richie asked.

Mac shook his head. "Not a clue. Other than that they're immortal and that they're living here in Seacouver. But I'll find them."

Just then, Erik came into the room. He had cleaned the blood off his face and arms and combed out his hair. He still looked terrible.

He looked at them for a moment. "I think I'll be going now." And with that, he left.