Disclaimer: I, or course, do not own Foster's. Wish I ran it, do not own it. Anyhew. Jodee, Natalie, and Satin are mine. There may be some background OCs cause there's just so many friends at fosters that I'm not going to bother to make sure they're all from the showbut they're of no importance and Mr. McCracken is welcome toclaim them.Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1: Jodee and Natalie

Wilt groaned as he felt his long sinuous muscles pull tight in his legs. Sighing, he reached upward over his head with his arms, extending his fingers and stump towards the ceiling in a long stretch. He liked the feeling that came with exercise. The tight, pent up feeling of muscles ready to spring. It made him feel energetic, ready for the day ahead, which was why he always did his stretches in the morning after breakfast.

He was kidding himself, he knew. It wasn't only the sense of energy that he enjoyed about stretching . . . It was the memories. It was in these quiet moments alone that he could best remember Jodee in all her splendid facets. Jodee . . .

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and remembered.

Bright red hair burned in the morning light like a flame as the little girl hurled the basketball at the hoop so high above. The shot fell several feet short, causing the basketball to bounce off the asphalt of the driveway and into the grass. Launching into an angry run that caused her pink jacket to trail behind her, the girl seized the ball and screamed at it with new frustration as she catapulted it upward. It fell short yet again and again she fetched it with rage. It flew up and plunged down to the left of the hoop, scuffing the new plastic of the toy basketball stand beside it.

"Stupid Brian and his stupid college!" she yelled, throwing the basketball so hard that it hit the pole, bounced off and knocked her backward, winding her.

Carefully, she pulled her knees up to her chest and laid her head down on the ripped knees of her jeans. Tears streamed from her pale blue eyes as she muttered into her hands, "Why do people have to go? Why do big brothers have to leave? Why do things have to change? Why can't things just stay the same?"

Pulling her jacket up tight against her, she shuddered and sniffed.

"Excuse me, miss. You okay?" came a deep, rich voice from behind her.

A hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder, a long red hand.

She glanced at the slightly furry fingers resting on her shoulder and her blue, tear filled eyes widened in amazement. Turning to look, she found herself face to face with a tall-incredibly tall-imaginary friend. His fur was red, like her hair, and he was amazing. He stood up fully and she craned her neck to watch him, falling over backwards because she was so close.

He immediately helped her up, "Whoa! Watch out there, sport, you okay?"

Blinking in astonishment, she nodded.

"I'm sorry, but you looked upset. May I ask what's wrong?" he inquired, sitting down next to her, his impossibly long legs stretched out beside hers.

Her blue eyes never left him as she spoke, "My brother Brian, he's going away to college." she seemed to remember something and her face twisted in anger, "He promised me he'd teach me to play basketball like him. He's got a scholarship. But then I got hurt and he didn't want to teach me anymore. Now he's leaving and I can't even make a basket!"

The friend smiled, "Well, could I help you out?"

The little girl looked over at him angrily, then her face softened, "I guess so."

The one armed friend reached down and scooped up the little girl, lifting her to the basket. She plunged the ball through the net as though with a vengeance and smiled triumphantly. Once back on the ground, she adjusted her prosthetic leg, and then smiled up at the gangly friend, "I'm Jodee and you're Wilt."

Wilt grinned to himself as he stretched. It was funny how many people thought he'd had a cruel creator. Amazing how little they knew about how gentle Jodee was. He glanced down at his stub of an arm and smiled, he carried Jodee with him in every stitch.

With a sigh at happy memories, he ambled downstairs. Maybe he'd go shoot a few hoops . . .

"Oh, Natalie." A tear ran through the soft cream colored fur of her face as she buried it in the teen's shirt.

Gentle hands cradled the imaginary friend close, and a soft voice whispered, "It'll be okay, Satin."

"I know it will but . . ." she paused, unable to continue.

"Satin, I know . . ." the blonde paused, looking into the face of her imaginary friend, "I know we may never see one another again . . . But that doesn't mean we can never talk again."

Satin looked up, her ears drooping, long and thin beside her head, "You're moving."

Natalie smiled weakly, "But I can still write. Will you write to me once I send you a letter?"

Satin nodded solemnly, staring at the sidewalk. Natalie got a mischievous look on her face while watching her downcast friend. Gently, she tugged on one of Satin's long slender cat-like ears and said, "Come'on, Satin, smile! You got a lot of friends to make."

Satin looked up and smiled an unsteady smile. Natalie twitched her nose like a rabbit until Satin giggled.

"There, that's better." Natalie said, "Ready now?"

With a composing sigh, Satin nodded and pressed the doorbell with one of her short soft fingers.

Wilt paused on the landing of the foyer stairs. The doorbell had just rung. He scanned the halls quickly, Frankie and Herriman seemed nowhere in sight . . .

He opened the large front door to see two teen girls-no, a teen girl and her imaginary friend.

"Hello there!" he exclaimed, cheerfully letting them in, "Welcome to Foster's! My name's Wilt."

He extended his hand to the pair, who stared at him for a moment. The imaginary friend seemed to snap out of her daze first, reaching up with a slender cream colored arm to shake his hand.

"I'm Satin and this is my creator, Natalie."

She said her creator's name as though it were a holy blessing. Wilt sighed inwardly, he knew the feeling.

"Satin, Natalie." he said with a nod to each, "So, would you like to take the tour? I can show you around the house . . ."

The two shared a pained look and finally, Natalie spoke, "No thanks. We've been on it before, my brother came here to adopt a friend a few months ago."

"Really?" Wilt said in surprise, "Who?"

"Ginger." Satin replied.

"Oh! I remember her! The gingerbread friend?" Wilt asked politely.

"Yeah, Jack has a thing for the movie Shrek. He and Ginger get a long great." Natalie replied.

"That's great, Ginger deserved a good home. She was very sweet." Wilt said.

Both girls nodded until an awkward silence filled the air. Finally, Natalie looked to Satin, "Do you want me to stick around for awhile, until you get used to it?"

With a shake of her head, Satin replied softly, "I'll be fine."

"Satin, I promise you I'll write and I swear I'll never stitch another stitch if I don't get a reply!" Natalie announced, hugging her friend close.

Satin buried her face in her creator's shoulder, "Thank you. Natalie . . . Thank you for making me."

With a sigh, Natalie released her friend and set down the suitcase she'd been carrying. It was one of the two Satin had brought with her. Packed full of clothes, all handmade by Natalie.

"No, Satin . . . Thank you. For showing me what I could be. I love you. I'll write as soon as we get moved in . . ." Natalie slipped away from her friend keeping in contact until it was only their fingertips touching and then the door closed quietly behind her.

Wilt stood awkwardly by Satin, unsure of what to say. There was obviously a lot of love between the two. It was a shame to see them split apart. But then . . . That was part of living at Fosters, watching the abandonment and coping.

Satin watched as her friend, family, . . . her life slipped out the door and bowed her head. Her way of life had crumbled. All that she had left of Natalie . . . All she would ever have of Natalie would be two cases of clothes, some words on paper, and her memories. Perhaps this was the way it was meant to be . . . But it certainly didn't feel like it.

She would carry on, she knew. The world stopped for no one, real or imaginary. And so, with a deep breath, she turned to face this tall red stranger who was welcoming her to a new world . . .