After I posted Photograph, I received a few requests for a sequel. Readers wanted to know what happened when Daniel was descended. I will probably get to that story at some point, but first I wanted toexplore how Daniel and Ella met.

Warnings: There is some pretty strong language in this story. Young Ella has a mouth on her. Also, there is sporatic violence throughout the story. And just so you know, I am not terribly familiar with the foster care system so I could be making some mistakes. If you spot them, let me know nicely, please.

Please read and review!

The First Day

Fourteen year-old Daniel Jackson waited for the new foster child to arrive. Mrs. Greerson had been called away at the last minute to the hospital she volunteered at. Her husband was at work. When the call came from the hospital, she had looked at Daniel and her son, Brian, pleadingly and asked, "Would you boys mind meeting the new girl? I spoke with her caseworker and she should be here around four. I promise to be home by five." Both boys agreed readily, but of course, as soon as Mrs. Greerson left Brian punched Daniel in the arm and said, "See ya' later Sponge." Then the sixteen year old left. Daniel didn't mind. He knew how overwhelming it could be for a foster child to be greeted by an entire family. And he suspected that the longer he could keep the new arrival away from Brian, the easier everyone's lives would go.

As soon as the house emptied, Daniel felt himself relax. It was rare that he had any time to himself and he treasured it. He walked upstairs to check out the spare bedroom. The upstairs rooms were decorated in a style Daniel had come to think of as "Early American Foster Care." They both had neat and tidy twin beds, covered with older but clean sheets and comforters. There was a small collection of battered toys and children's books. The items in Daniel's room skewed slightly more male while the other room skewed slightly female. Each room firmly resisted the imprint of any real personality. Daniel felt they looked like something out of a children's mental ward. There was a small bathroom that opened into both bedrooms and the hallway. Until today, Daniel had had the whole bathroom to himself, a rare treat in his life. He cleaned and straightened in the spare room and bathroom, trying to make them as warm and welcoming as possible. When he heard a car turn into the driveway, he ran down to greet them.

As soon as he spied the young girl in the backseat of the station wagon, he knew. Foster children seemed to all fall into one of three categories. Category One was when something bad had happened to the children's parents, like Daniel himself. Category One kids tended to have somebody, somewhere that they always dreamed would come and claim them. Category Two was when bad things had happened to the kids. These children veered from being very angry and defensive to very needy and oddly affectionate. Category Three kids were the ones where bad things had happened to both the parents and the kids. There was a desolation – a devastation – that was scary to see in these children. The little red head that was curled around her duffle bag looked as if she fell firmly into Category Three. And she did not look happy to be coming to this house.

The caseworker stepped out of her car. "You must be Daniel," she said, holding out her hand.

"Yes, ma'am," Daniel replied. Adults always liked Daniel because he was so polite. "The perfect foster child," his own caseworker had once called him, not considering how painful that comment might be for an orphan. Daniel was smart, polite and well behaved. And he never complained no matter where they placed him, or how often they moved him.

"This is Ella McPherson," the social worker reached to open up the back door of the car. Ella climbed out slowly as if she didn't trust the ground to be there for her when she needed it. "Ella, this is going to be your new home." She was using the overly sweet "voice of concern" that Daniel hated. Judging from Ella's head down sulk, she didn't appreciate the tone either. "Daniel," the voice turned to him, "Mrs. Greerson called me today and told me that you would show Ella around and make her feel at home. Now, normally, I have tosee the parents when there is a new placement, but the Greerson's have a long history and this is an emergency so I will make an exception. I'm sure that you will do everything that you can to make Ella feel right at home."

"Yes, ma'am." By now Daniel was desperate for this woman to leave. But manners won out, "Would you like some coffee or anything before you go?" Please say no, please say no, he thought to himself.

"Oh, no, you are so sweet for offering, but I'll just leave you children to get to know one another." She turned her full condescension towards Ella, "Goodbye Ella. I'll check in on your next week." Ella made a noise that fell somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. The social worker handed her business card to Daniel, "And here you are. Tell your foster mom she can call me if she has any questions." With that she climbed into her car and drove away.

Relived, Daniel turned to Ella, "Okay…well…Come on it. Would you like me to help you with your bag?" She only clutched it closer to her chest. He led her inside. "All right, this is the first floor, living room, Mr. and Mrs. Greerson's bedroom. The Greerson's are the adults here. They're okay. This here is the kitchen, Brian's bedroom is off to the side here. Brian is 16 and the Greerson's son." Daniel paused, wondering what else he should say about Brian. "Just try to stay out of his way. Anyway… these stairs take you upstairs to our rooms." He showed her to her room. "This one is yours."

Through the whole tour, Ella had plodded behind him, eyes down, clinging to her duffel bag. "This is your closet, your dresser. I can help you unpack, if you'd like." She shook her head. Her continuing silence was beginning to unnerve him. "Umm…this door leads to the bathroom. It opens to your room, the hallway and my room." That got a reaction. Her eyes flicked up to Daniel. He thought he saw fear. "So, be sure to lock the door when you are in there and I promise to always knock, okay?" She remained silent, but nodded her head slightly. "Ok…well…ummm, I am going to go downstairs and make dinner. If you need anything, you can find me in the kitchen, okay?" When Daniel left, Ella was still standing in the middle of her room, holding her bag.

Daniel went to the kitchen. A previous foster family had taught him how to cook and he thought it would be nice to make something good for Ella's first day. The Greerson's house was always well stocked. He found everything for spaghetti, turned the radio on and got to work.

By six o'clock, the house was filled with the smells of meat, tomatoes, and spices. Mrs. Greerson came home late and was thrilled, "Thanks for making that, Daniel. It smells lovely." She put her purse down and looked in her son's room. "Is Brian home?"

"No, he went out," Daniel answered.

"Well, he stayed long enough to help you with the new girl, right?"

Daniel knew better than to rat out Brian. He made an "umhmmm" type noise and changed the subject. "Ella is upstairs unpacking right now."

"Thanks again, Daniel. You just take care of things so well. It's as though you don't need us adults at all." She laughed and ruffled Daniel's hair, breezing out of the kitchen.

Alone again, Daniel put water on to boil for the pasta. Every time he was alone with Mrs. Greerson, his chest tightened with all of the things he wanted to say. I don't like being here, he thought. He had been with the Greerson's for two months. He still missed the last family he had stayed with. Unfortunately the Parson's had been a military family and Mr. Parson's orders had been changed. They were moving overseas. So here Daniel was. Every family was an adjustment and Daniel was very good about blending into new surroundings. But living with the Greerson's was a challenge. Mr. Greerson worked a lot and was rarely seen at home before 7 or 8. A self-made success, Mr. Greerson had high expectations of his son. When report cards had come home a few weeks ago, he had screamed at Brian about a "B" that should have been an "A." He held up Daniel's grades for comparison. "Look at Daniel here. He comes from nothing, he's two years younger than you, and he's already in your grade! Hell, he's got better marks than you. And they've got him in some advanced classes. Why can't you be smart like him, Brian?" Later, the older boy had retaliated by coming into Daniel's room, shoving him into the wall, threatening him with all sorts of bodily harm, and then sinking his fist deep into Daniel's stomach. Daniel vowed to never bring home another report card again.

Mrs. Greerson was nicer and far more present in the house. But she had a blind spot when it came to children. She was oblivious to her son's bullying ways. And some of the things she said would leave Daniel speechless from her unthinking cruelty. On Daniel's first night there, she gave him a long speech in front of the family about how she took in foster children because she felt that she was so blessed with a wonderful family. She wanted to share her blessings with children who were not so fortunate. I had a good family, Daniel had wanted to yell. I had the best family. But at least Mrs. Greerson tried.

The pasta was done so Daniel set it to drain, sprinkling oil on the top. Looking at the clock, he realized that it had been two hours and he had heard nothing from Ella. Concerned, he decided to go check on her. He went upstairs and found Ella sitting on her bed, still holding her bag. Nothing in the room had been touched.

"Ella, are you okay?"

She turned and looked at him. For just a moment, Daniel saw the fear and desolation that made her look even younger than she was. It was immediately masked by defensiveness. "I'm fine," she replied. It was the first thing she had said since getting out of the car.

"Good." At least now he knew she wasn't mute. "It's dinner time so why don't you wash up and help me set the table. You can leave your bag in the closet, if you'd like."

Shooting him a very suspicious glance, Ella carried her bag to her closet. Then she went into the bathroom, where Daniel heard all of the doors being locked. When she came back out, her hands and face were washed and her hair was brushed. Daniel smiled at her effort. "Let's go set up."

He led her to the kitchen and showed her where the dishes were kept. By now, the whole family was home. Slowly, everyone trailed into the kitchen and claimed their usual spots around the table.

"You must be Ella," Mrs. Greerson came into the room and pulled the girl into an engulfing hug. Ella looked too surprised to resist. Mrs. Greerson held Ella at arms length. "Well, aren't you a picture. Look at all of that red hair. So curly and thick. Hmm…we should get you a good cut. Lord knows Daniel could use one to." Stung, Ella pulled away to finish setting the table.

Everyone took his or her seat, Daniel indicating that Ella could sit next to him. After the food was passed and everyone was eating, Mrs. Greerson introduced Ella to her family. "Gentlemen, this is Ella. She will be living with us now. Ella how long have you been a foster child?"

Ella's response was barely audible, "Three years."

Brian snorted, "Just what we need. Another sponge in this house." He glared at Daniel across the table.

"Brian, be nice," Mrs. Greerson admonished. "Ella, your caseworker told me that your mother died, right? That her boyfriend murdered her?"

Daniel froze. He couldn't believe it. He could not believe that she would be so casual about Ella's tragedy. She had been the same way when Daniel moved in, but at least Daniel's mother had not been murdered. Ella looked mortified.

"Susan, why would…" Even Mr. Greerson was surprised by his wife's callousness.

"What?" Mrs. Greerson asked. "I'm sorry sweetie. Does it upset you to talk about your mom? It's good to remember those we loved who have left us. It's just so tragic when these kinds of things happen. But you know, that's why Mr. Greerson and myself became foster parents. We wanted to share our blessings and our love with children who were not as lucky as our Brian here."

Sitting next to her, Daniel could feel Ella's anger and upset radiating off of her in waves. He wished he could say something but his mind had blanked in shared embarrassment. Everyone went back to his or her food.

"This spaghetti is pretty good," Mr. Greerson remarked.

"Thank you, sir," Daniel responded.

"So Ella," Brian spoke up, "how'd that guy kill your mom? What he use? Knife? Gun? Did you see it happen?"

"Screw you, asshole!" Ella finally snapped. Silence fell across the kitchen.

"Ella!" Mrs. Greerson looked aghast. "I can only imagine how things were in your family, but in this house, children do not swear. Kitchen duty is yours tonight." She turned to her son. "As you were so rude to our new family member, Brian, you will help her clean up the kitchen. It is not nice to pick on others and I count on you to set an example in this house."

"But I'm going over to Marc's house tonight," he protested.

"You can go after you help with the dishes," Mrs. Greerson was adamant. "Your father and I are going out tonight and I expect this house to be spotless by the time we get back home. Is that understood?" Both children mumbled their assent.

Daniel's stomach dropped when he saw the look that Brian was giving Ella. He was pretty sure that the fact that Ella was four years younger and a girl would not save her from the pain Brian's look was promising. Daniel had no intention of leaving those two alone tonight. He started to clear the table.

"No, Daniel," Mrs. Greerson started. "You've worked hard enough today. You don't need to clean as well."

"But, I don't mind – "

"Daniel, please," she interrupted. "I've had enough of children arguing tonight. I don't need you doing it as well. Now, please, just go up to your room and we will all leave these two to get started."

Left with no option, Daniel went to his room. He paced across the floor until he heard the adults leave. Then he ran back to the kitchen in time to see Brian knock Ella into the wall. Brian raised his arm to hit the girl again.

"Leave her alone!" Daniel grabbed Brian's arm and pulled him back. Brian shook off the younger boy and then punched him in the stomach. Daniel hit the floor and tried not to throw up.

"Listen you little bitch," Brian whipped around and pointed his finger at Ella, who was crying. "Don't ever try that shit again. This is my house, not yours. And don't you ever forget it. And you," he turned to Daniel who cringed instinctively. Brian laughed, "You're pathetic. I'm outta' here." Damage done, Brian grabbed his coat and strolled out the back door.

Slowly, Daniel got to his feet. Ella was trying to hide her face as she continued to cry. Daniel reached for her shoulder, "Ella - "

"Leave me the fuck alone!" Ella smacked Daniel's hand away and ran out of the kitchen. He heard her bedroom door slam. Still in pain, Daniel sank into a kitchen chair. It looked like he was on kitchen duty tonight.

After awhile, Daniel washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Once he was finished, he went upstairs to try and talk with Ella. He knocked on her door.

"Ella, it's Daniel. Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I know today has been…well…dreadful…but you can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He listened for a response, but heard nothing. "Okay, I'm going to my room. The kitchen's clean so don't worry about that. If you need anything, just knock. Okay? Goodnight," Daniel went to his room. He never heard a sound from Ella that night.

When Daniel woke the next morning, there was a sign taped to the bathroom mirror. It read:

"Daniel –

Thanks for diner. The spagete was good. Thanks for cleaning the kichen. Im sorry I used the 'F-word' on you. I didnt mean it.

Ella"

TBC