(A/N: Just so you know, I really don't support Nader, I just think the slogan is catchy. Well, I guess the girl's name is Juliet, so thanks, those of you who helped me there. Adios!)

Marissa leaned her back against the sofa, holding a plate with a peanutbutter sandwich in her lap while watching TV. Mort was laying on the sofa, dangerously close to dozing off, his eyes staring blankly at the Powerpuff Girls. He sighed. Cartoons used to be good a long time ago.

"Can I have some milk please, Mort?" Marissa asked, glancing up at him. Mort yawned and nodded, getting to his feet slowly. When he was tired, a simple walk to the kitchen was almost a mile away, but he made it there and opened the fridge, pulling out the milk jug and then turning to the cupboards for a glass.

"How's them Powerpuff Girls?" came a southern drawl. Mort closed his eyes and turned around, whispering so Marissa wouldn't hear him.

"What do you want?" he whispered.

"You're not going to try and send me away?" asked Shooter, seeming a little surprised.

"Why? It doesn't work anyway, so why don't you just say your bull sh... crap, and get out of here."

"Saw you praying last night with the little girlie. Never thought of you as a religious man, Mort, or are you tryin' to get on God's good side after all the things you've done?"

"Take your pick," muttered Mort as he opened up the cupboard for a glass. "You never show up without a reason, so tell me what you want and go."

"I want you to know I've seen the way you look at that little lady in the living room. It'd be a shame if something were to happen to her..."

"Don't," hissed Mort. "I did what you requested. Now leave me alone and stay away from her!"

"Why do you think she's any different, huh? Don't you remember what happened the last time you got attatched to someone? She turned and hurt you bad, so we hurt her bad. What makes you think this youngin' is any different?"

"Marissa's a kid!" said Mort. "You'd seriously kill a kid?"

"Would I? You created me, so ain't it up to you to know that?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out. Marissa's a child and she can't hurt me in the same way Amy did, so there's no point in you staying." He gave Shooter a dangerous look, but Shooter merely smirked and stepped back with a shrug.

"You may be right about that, Rainey," he said. "But if I come to think otherwise... you'll know." And with that he walked into the back of the room and disappeared.

"Mort?" called Marissa from the living room. He looked up and closed his eyes trying to shake off the feelings he had at the moment.

"Coming," he called back and poured her glass of milk before returning to her.

The next day, Mort took Marissa to the park to play, and sat on a bench, reading one of his books... well, not really his. Marissa didn't know he still had Mary's book, and he didn't know when he'd tell her, or even if he would. Marissa had gone for almost a day without crying over Mary, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Next to him, the bench tilted a little and he glanced over to see a familiar face. He groaned and shifted a little. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question," said Juliet with a half smirk. "I didn't really peg you as a swinging person."

"Slides," he muttered, a little disgruntled.

"By the way, sorry about the other day, in the store?"

"Whatever," said Mort, watching Marissa and not her. Juliet sighed and looked out at the slides where Marissa was about to go down.

"How long is she staying with you?"

"Till the fat lady sings," said Mort, leaning foreward and resting his elbows on his thighs.

"How old is she?"

"Six," he muttered. "I think she is, at least." She laughed a little.

"You really pay attention to detail," she muttered.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, looking at her for the first time.

"What?"

"Why is it that you suddenly want to talk to me again instead of trying to avoid me? Or are you the nice twin?" Juliet frowned and shook her head.

"It's been over a year, Mort," she said softly. "The buzz has died down and now that people aren't really talking about it anymore, I've had time to actually decide whether or not I believe the stories."

"So you think I'm innocent?" he asked questioningly.

"No," she answered. "I don't know you well enough to make that call yet. But I do believe you're crazy." Mort chuckled a little.

"Then that should speak for itself, Julie," he said, glancing at her. "I don't appreciate being investigated by people I don't know, or in your case, like. I know what you really think, and I'd appreciate it if you just got out of my life again like last time, and let us both have a happily ever after."

"One thing that'll never change is you'll always be an asshole," she replied, glancing up at Marissa. "Wonder how that kid deals with you?"

"She just does, ma'am. Just like I have deal with you right now."

"You know," she said, standing up and giving him a nasty look. "Instead of just telling me to f-off, you could just kindly ask me to leave."

"Alright then," he said, forcing a smile. "Please, my dear lady, get yourself out of here and the hell away from me."

"You know what, fine! But I'd recommend you lightening up. You could use the brownie points, believe me. And there are people who want to see that kid out of your house where it's safe."

"Safe from crazy ol' Mort?" he asked in an angry tone. "Is that what they're saying." Juliet opened her mouth to answer but he didn't let her. "You know what, I give up! There's no way I can prove to anyone I didn't do it, and you know why? Because people here are shitheads who jump to conclusions before getting the facts strait, and you are no different!"

"Oh I'm not?" she responded angrily.

"Not, you aren't! Happy now?"

"I'm going to social services," she said turning around.

"What?" he called back.

"There's no way I'm leaving that poor girl to live with you in your mental hospital!"

"Mental Hospital?" he shouted. "Is that all you got, you little bi-"

He was cut off when he heard someone crying. Turning around he saw Marissa sitting on the ground with her knee drawn up, and crying loudly. As if on instinct, he ran over to her and kneeled down to get a look.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I fell off the slide," she wailed. Her knee was skinned up and she had a small scrape on the side of her leg, but that was all.

"It's not so bad," he said softly, picking her up and carrying her over to the bench. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh-huh," she whined. "I think my leg's broken."

"Your leg's not broken," he said with a smirk.

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not," he said softly. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?" She nodded, her lower lip sticking out. He kissed her knee gently and looked at her. "That better?" She nodded, and he gave her a hug. "Is that as tight as you can squeeze?" She giggled and squeezed tighter and he pretended to choke. "Ack! Oh no! She's chocking me!" Marissa laughed and pulled back.

"Did I choke you, Mort?"

"You most certainly did," he said with a smile.

"I'm gonna choke you again!" she said, and gave him another hug, squeezing as tight as she could. Mort pretended to choke again, not noticing that Juliet had been watching and was now smiling.

"You want to get some ice cream?" he asked her. She smiled and nodded.

"Can you carry me?" she asked, sticking out her lip again.

"I guess so," he said in a pitiful tone, and then placed her on his shoulders, walking across the street and to the nearest ice cream store.

Juliet smiled to herself and shook her head. Maybe there was more to Mort Rainey than meets the eye?

(A/N: Hey! Just to let some of you know, on thursday I'll be leaving for the holidays, so with my stories there won't be any updates from friday till the day we get back in school. I know it kind of sucks, but I won't have access to the internet during that time, not even at the library, so I'll try to have updates every day. Thank you one and all! And happy holidays!

-Smeagol's (ociffer, I swear to drunk I'm not God!) girl.)