I don't own Home Alone


Three months later...

March 15th, 1991

After the holidays, the usual routine had begun at the McCallister household. Work, school, homework and the usual stress that came along when exams were around the corner. For Kevin, he found it exasperating to the fact that he couldn't spend at least some quality time with his siblings. He had homework as well but it didn't take as long to finish as opposed to the homework that his siblings had. Kevin looked over at Linnie when he noticed her furiously scribbling on her notebook while mumbling to herself. He craned his neck forward and looked at the various French phrases that were written all over her textbook and words that he didn't even understand.

Kevin frowned as he tried to pronounce the word that he kept staring. "Bon...bonjour...?" he said pronouncing the word with a 'j' instead of 'zh.'

"No, no," Linnie chuckled as she shook her head at her brother, "it's like this. Bonjour," she said it with a pronounced accent.

"Bon...jour," Kevin attempted to say a second time, though this time it was better pronounced than the first.

"There you go," Linnie smiled at him, "and the more you practice French, you'll be able to say 'Bonjour je m'apple Kevin."

From that little lesson, the only word that Kevin understood was his name but the way Linnie spoke, it sounded like an interesting language to learn. He had heard Linnie speaking French numerous times, mostly of the fact that she had been motivated to learn ever since their family had planned their trip to France. For the young teen, even though their vacation hadn't turned out the way that they had planned, she would love to go back a second time and see it fully. It would be a better experience than being cooped up in a small apartment like they were during Christmas.

"Do you want to go back to Paris?" Kevin suddenly asked when he finished solving a simple math problem in his textbook.

It seemed as if her brother had read her thoughts. A slight smile appeared upon her lips as she turned her full attention to her brother. "I would," she answered him. "In fact, I want to study there if I am able to do it." Given her academic accomplishments Linnie hoped that would be one of the advantages in helping her follow her dream once she graduated from high school. France would be a great opportunity and learning experience. It was far away from home and who knew if her mother would ever approve of it, but Linnie knew that she would be doing it for her own future.

"Study in France?" Kevin asked, flabbergasted at his sister just said. "But it's so far away."

Linnie couldn't help but chuckle. "I am not going away right now. It takes a lot of planning to do...and I have to keep my grades up as well."

Just then, the front door opened and Megan walked inside the house. She carried a beat up soccer ball and was wearing her school soccer team uniform whilst having an exhausted look on her face. She leaned against the doorway and let out a long sigh.

"How was soccer practice?" Linnie spoke up as she looked at her sister up and down and took in her appearance.

"The coach had us doing so many drills I thought my legs would fall off," Megan replied as she walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Linnie stared at her wide-eyed when she did that. If their mother had walked in this moment and saw Megan plopped on the couch in such a disheveled condition she would be giving Megan an earful. "But other than that," she continued as she leaned forward and began to undo her shoelaces, "it went rather well. I kicked butt as always."

"Looks like you'll be more than ready for the upcoming game," Linnie said as she picked up her pencil once more to continue her French lesson. "Bonne chance."

Megan gave her sister a slight glance. Even though she couldn't understand a word in French, she knew that her sister meant well. "Thank you," she said to her, "or should I say..."

"Merci?" Linnie suggested.

"Yes, that." After taking off her shoes, Megan threw them inside the closet along with her soccer ball. "I'm heading upstairs. Got a lot of homework to do."

Knowing her sister, Linnie believed that Megan would be doing anything but that. Such as probably take a long nap and finish her homework in the late hours of the night. Giving a shake of her head, Linnie proceeded to make flashcards for some vocabulary words. It took a while to cut, write down the phrases in both English and French, but in the end it was an effective method. In fact, it was a method that she enjoyed.

As for Kevin, he had finished the last of his homework and thought it best to leave his sister be. Even though he was quite tempted to learn a bit of French with her, he knew that he shouldn't bother Linnie. Once she was deep down in doing her homework, she hated to be interrupted. He moved his chair back and walked over into the living room. Perhaps there was something better on the television that he could kill some time with until his other siblings and parents came back. Jeff was probably staying after school with Becky, working on their school newspaper, and Buzz was probably serving detention...or what Kevin would like to think.

Taking the remote in his hands, he flipped through the channels until it landed upon a famous cartoon show, Looney Tunes, and the episode featured the infamous duo of Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner. Kevin wouldn't say that these two were his favorite characters, as opposed to the famous Bugs Bunny, but they were nonetheless enjoyable. Some of the antics that were shown in the cartoon were even an inspiration on the house traps.

"What's so funny over there?" Linnie suddenly asked.

Kevin hadn't realized that he had been laughing. It was just too funny seeing some similarities in the cartoon with the house traps and how those bandits would be slowed down in the process but would always come back after them. "Oh nothing," Kevin said as he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. There was no way he was going to tell his siblings what had happened during that night.

That would be just a little secret between him and Becky...


Three months had passed rather quickly for some people, but for Amy Lime it had passed painfully slow. There had been no joy for her during the past months but constant fear for her life...and for Harry's to say the least. She didn't enjoy the fact that her husband had been lying to her all this time but yet, she couldn't bring herself to hate him like she wanted to. How much she wanted to tear off that wedding band and throw it over her shoulder, hoping that it would fall in a storm drain and make herself disappear from this place. Yet she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Three months alone in her apartment with no one to turn to, but those two horrible men whom had made her life a living hell. Every time they would stop by, they always intimidated her. Mostly Ray with his brawny threats, though he hadn't gotten physical with her ever since that day he had grabbed her by the throat and Amy had made sure to steer clear from his unpredictable behavior.

At this moment, she had been sitting on her sofa waiting for the moments to tick by until one of those men came by her house. Every time they had warned her that when she would visit Harry, she had better not say a word to him about their visitation. Amy knew well enough that Ray had access to the prison since he would disguise himself as a cop and have the alias Jack Monroe as his name.

But the one thing that boggled Amy was what they actually wanted Harry for. The words that Robert had said to her during the Christmas Eve night was that Harry owned them? But what exactly?

Money Amy had thought one night when she had lied alone in her bed, it has to be money. Unless it was a priceless artifact that Harry had stealthily stolen and Amy knew nothing about it. But no, money seemed to be the most reasonable thing that these two men were looking for. How much or where it even was, Amy did not know. It seemed to her that Harry had been rather sly in hiding these things from her, one thing which she had never appreciated ever since she had found out.

There was a light knock on the door and Amy turned her head to look, when it clicked open and Robert appeared in the doorway. Amy expected his sidekick to be along with him but Ray was nowhere in sight. "Just you?" she asked him, trying to least have some courage in herself to show that she wasn't afraid. "Where's your little sidekick?"

Robert didn't make eye contact with her right away when he walked into the room. "Let's say that he has a slight cold," Robert replied and gently shut the door behind him, "but he's been getting better for the most part."

Not that I care Amy thought.

"But I will pass on your...sympathies," Robert said the word sarcastically, knowing well that if Ray had been here it would earn Amy a backhand and he would be doing nothing about it. Ray was the brawn and Robert was the brains in this whole group. He motioned for Amy to stand so they could be on their way for her visitation to Harry but there was one thing that stopped him.

A purse that Robert had never seen Amy with before. "Give me that," he said as he reached forward for the bag.

"No!" Amy clutched her purse tightly and turned away from him, but it wasn't until he felt his hand on her shoulder and whipped her around to face him.

"Give it here!" he raised his voice as he ripped the bag off her hands. Unzipping the bag, he dumped out the contents as they scattered everywhere on the floor. What lay before them were receipts, a pen, lipstick, a couple of dollar bills, and a pack of gum. Robert looked at what was on the floor before looking up at the woman before him. "That's it?" he asked her, "why the hell does this purse feel so damn heavy, huh?" he asked her.

Amy clenched her hands into fists to control her anger. She couldn't let her anger get the better of her or the situation would turn out to be very ugly. "It's the design," Amy said as she looked directly at Robert and reached for the bag. Once it was safely in her hands she didn't dare break eye contact with him. "With the materials used to make it, it gives it a bit of a weight than normal."

That was probably one of the most biggest lies that Amy had ever said. She had no idea how she was able to even construct such a lie and she didn't know whether it was one that Robert would believe. She lowered her eyes over to the discarded items and knelt down. Cautiously, she placed the items back in the bag, though she kept a distance from Robert thinking that he would take this as an opportunity and strike her with his foot.

Robert watched as she got up on her feet once more and placed the bag over her shoulder. If she was up to something, he would make sure that consequences were faced. Though she had seemed pretty convincing with the words that she had told him, given the fact that he was nowhere proficient in women's handbags.

"I am ready," Amy said to him before he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the apartment.


Harry stared at the television screen in the room where him and other inmates stood. He found it rather amusing that he was the one having the privilege to watch some television while Marv had been placed on doing the laundry for his misbehavior. Who knew that his friend had the tendency to throw a punch at another inmate and start a brawl over a seat where that other inmate sat. It had seemed unlike Marv but spending three months in prison could really change a person and for Marv, it seemed that he was becoming more of a moron that Harry assumed. If it were up to Harry, he would have given up his seat but would secretly make sure that the inmate paid for it. He had his own ways on how that would be done.

A laughter rang out from within the group at whatever film the prisoners were watching that only made Harry roll his eyes. He hated being in this place and he hated everyone that he was with...with the exception of Marv even though he got on his nerves. One inmate with an obnoxious laugh leaned forward in his seat before flinging out his arms, hitting Harry in the process, and clapping in an exaggerated manner.

"Hey watch it idiot!" Harry snapped as he rose up from his seat.

The inmate halted his laughter and turned his attention to Harry. Rising up from his seat he stared down at Harry causing him to look up. The man was practically a tower compared at Harry. "What did you just call me?" he asked the bandit.

Height was something that never intimidated Harry. The amount of people that Harry had dealt with, he had found a way to escape and this man would be no exception. "You heard me," he said, "unless you're tough of hearing."

To the other inmate, he couldn't tell whether Harry was trying to offend him or trying to be funny. "Ha!" he let out a bellow, "you're a funny guy."

Harry clenched his jaw and glared up at the man. "Funny how?" Harry asked him, not daring to break away eye contact with the man before him.

The tall inmate looked left and right at his other comrades before staring down at Harry. "Don't give me lip little man."

Little man?! However, Harry was not going to succumb to his anger. "I ain't giving you lip," Harry said, "I just wanna to know why you think I'm funny? Do I make you laugh? Do I amuse you?"

The inmate stared at Harry in disbelief. That fact that this man had the audacity to even talk back to him was one thing that caught him off guard. No one had ever spoken to him that way and now he was? "Look, you better sleep with one eye open during the night."

That's your best threat? Now it was Harry's turn to laugh, but he knew better than to do that. "I am shaking in my prison outfit," Harry replied back to him, "you never want to mess with...a 'funny guy' as you just said."

Instinctively, it seemed that the taller inmate took a step back fro Harry, thinking that something flashed before the man's eyes as he continued to glare at him. "I ain't scared of you."

"Neither am I," Harry replied back and then folded his arms across his chest. Oh he was enjoying this slight debacle between them. It wasn't how tall or short someone was but it was their way of logically speaking with one another. It seemed that this guy only followed his muscles as opposed to following his brain.

"Come on man just leave him alone," another inmate spoke up from behind Harry's opponent. It was a terrible attempt for Harry wished to continue this whole situation but he would let it go until another opportunity came his way.

"Idiot," Harry mumbled under breath and sat back on his seat. It wasn't long until a police officer came his way and reported that he had a visitor...and Harry knew well enough whom that person was going to be. Getting up from his seat once more, he followed the officer and awaited to meet with his wife once again. However, this time he was placed in a room that included other inmates and their families as opposed to the telephone where he had spoken with her the first time.


Amy had made her way through the building without Robert's assistance. She had wanted to set up this meeting where she could speak with Harry in close contact and hoped that it would be more safe as opposed to the telephone. The first time she had spoken to Harry through the telephone after that partition separated them, she knew that she had to be careful what she said but now, she hoped she would say everything she could with him.

After signing her name in the visitor's log, another police officer whom Amy did not recognize much to her relief escorted her to a table where Harry was waiting for her. Amy hesitated at first. This was her first contact with him in three months and she felt rather nervous, but no matter what came, she wanted to have the chance to say everything she wanted to him. After her slight hesitation, Amy took a deep breath and quickly walked over to Harry.

"Amy," Harry said as he scraped his chair back and got up on his feet.

What did he expect her to do? Hug him? Kiss him? Slap him across the face? Amy chose to do neither. She only stood there with a stoic expression on her face and stare at him for a mere moment. At least his injuries were healed and his head wasn't mummified like it was three months ago. "I only have a little bit of time to talk," Amy said as she adjusted her chair and sat close to Harry, causing him to sit back down.

Amy looked over her shoulder to make sure that no one she recognized was in sight. Robert wasn't able to come in since he didn't have the clearance that Ray had, but she also didn't trust the fact that Ray was sick.

Harry nodded his head at her words. "How...have you been?" he asked her.

Sad, angry, depressed, in danger were the words that Amy wanted to say to him but chose not to. "Let's just say that I have been trying to adjust," she said as she reached towards and placed her hand gently on his arm, giving it a squeeze.

Harry looked down at her touch for a moment but he couldn't tell whether she was being serious or if she was playing along. Amy could be a little minx at times but it seemed like an inappropriate moment to do that. "What are you doing?" he asked her.

Amy leaned forward towards him, almost enough that her lips were touching his. "Three months have passed," Amy whispered to him, "and I have never felt so lonely...and in danger."

Harry frowned when she stated the word 'danger.' "What do you mean?"

Amy took a deep breath as she reached into her bag and ripped open one section of the bag that she had sewn together. Within the bag there was a quantity of letter that she had written over the course of three months. Things that included how she was, whom Ray and Robert were, and what she had been overhearing...and a couple of flirtatious notes after her anger had subsided and her loneliness grew.

Harry stared down at the amount of letters that she had with her. "What are these?" he asked her.

Amy moved her body slightly just so she could hide those notes from anyone's view. "Everything that has happened in the three months," she said to him. "I tried to write as much as I could."

Just then a police officer passed by and Amy immediately covered those letters between her and Harry's body and she pressed her lips against his making it just seem a regular wife who was missing her husband. As the guard stalked off, Amy pulled away and looked at Harry once more. It was a bit of an awkward moment between them, especially when Harry was oblivious to her teasing back before he was in a jail.

"Take them," Amy whispered to him, "hide them before someone sees."

Harry nodded his head to her. "You need to convince me to do that."

Amy tried to suppress a smile but she couldn't resist. With a roll of her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed Harry once more, longer and deeply than she had before. As she was doing so, she felt his hands grip onto the letters as they left her hands and he hid them securely within his prison garments. Amy was about to pull away when she felt his hands grabbing her shoulders and pull her into him once more.

She fell limp into his touch and she hoped that this wouldn't end, but it wasn't long until the police officer said to her that it was time for her to leave. Letting out a sigh, she stared at Harry once more before she got up from her seat and was escorted out of the room.

Harry leaned back into his chair and stared after his wife. All that he had now as a memory from her before she came to visit again were just these letters...and ones that he would thoroughly read.