"Hey Annie," Jack said, uncharacteristically cheery, "Need a ride into town

Day 3, The Phillip's House

"Hey Annie," Jack said, uncharacteristically cheery, "Need a ride into town?"

"Uhm," Annie said, placing her empty bowl and glass in the dishwasher. "Yea actually, I've gotta make a stop at the bookstore, and I need to grab some stuff at the pharmacy."

"Smuggling drugs to Peru are we Annie?" Clu teased, entering the kitchen. Laughing. Cary in-tow.

"Har-har, no. I've gotta grab some Tylenol…just in case I find myself trapped on a plane with a bunch of crying babies."

"Solid." Clu said. Cary snorted.

"We're going downtown, you two wanna come?" Jack asked.

"I'm in!" Clu said enthusiastically. "We've gotta stop by the music shop though!"

"Well I wasn't gonna spend that much time in town actually…I kinda told someone I'd call them at a certain time." Jack answered, mumbling the last bit.

"Of course we're going to the music store Clu!" Annie answered, just as enthusiastically, "C'mon Jack, it'll be my last time for like...a whole year!" She pouted.

Jack sighed. "Cary?"

"Uh-uh," He raised his hands in surrender, "I'm not voting, I think I'll stick around here."

"Fine," Jack sighed, grabbing the keys from the counter and moving towards the door, "But we have to be back no later than four!"

"Alright," Clu exclaimed, "Shot gun!"

"Clu no far!" Annie shouted.

They started racing for the front seat, Jack sighed louder.

"Good luck man," Cary said empathetically, "See yah later."

Jack nodded, exiting to join Annie and Clu, who were arguing over who tagged the car first.

10 minutes later…

Cary was seated on the downstairs couch, guitar in hand. It was an old guitar of Molly's that, at some point, everyone had played to some degree…even his mother!

This couch was his favorite place in the big, musical house.

He liked how you sat and sunk into the cushions, but not enough to impair your ability to play guitar. The room smelled like cedar and vanilla candles.

He took a deep breath. Closing his eyes and thinking back on the past few years, and to his time on the road. He was in the middle of a favorite memory; one involving a farm, a stage, and playing guitar for a decently sized crowd.

He smiled.

Singing drifted through the air and he snapped out of the walk down memory lane. Standing up and tenderly putting the guitar back on its holder he followed the un-known voice up the creaky stairs.

Fi moved about her room, singing an old irish tune her grandmother had taught her and placing this sweater in that drawer and hanging this dress in that closet. She had a desk that needed serious cleaning. Lots of new books to shelve on a shelf she needed to buy. Two closets, their doors open as they happily got re-filled with her clothes, and a Buro that was receiving whatever didn't want to be put on a hanger.

Fi sighed. It was weird being home, nice, but strange. Her room smelled like cedar, like most of the house did, but with a hint of freesia. The light shown brightly through her sheer curtains, it made everything seem more alive.

New York had felt so grey compared to this. And living with Aunt Melinda this summer, well, she hadn't had much time to notice the color of things.

And to stay in one place for an extended period of time…well, she had never really gotten too comfortable with it. Ever.

She turned her attention to the desk, needing a break from fabric; she stuffed various pens and pencils into a jar.

"Annie was right," Cary said. He was casually leaning on her doorframe.

Fi jumped, knocking the jar of writing utensils to the ground.

"Cary!" she shouted.

He started to laugh, flopping on her bed. "Seriously though, I thought you were always a guitar girl. Where'd the singing come from?"

"I was," She paused, "I am…I just didn't have much opportunity to use it when I was living with Aunt Melinda. Singing is more of her thing. I guess I just picked it up."

She shrugged, sitting next to him.

"What if you could put both of your skills to use…at the same time?" He watched her reaction carefully.

Her face was excited, than surprised, than she blushed.

"Very funny, who told you about…"she trailed off.

He was looking at her, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

"Never mind." She said quickly.

"Who told me about what Fi?" He asked, "C'mon I think I'm missing out on a juicy story."

"More like the most embarrassing story of my life." She rolled her eyes, "That's not getting told, ever!" She added quickly.

Cary let one shoulder up, and then down. "So what do you think?"

"Are you still thinking about starting a band?" Fi asked. Returning to the relentless task of un-packing most of her earthly belongings.

"Yup." Cary said, grabbing the Cosmo on her bed stand and casually leafing through it, "I talked to Clue last night, we think we've got some tracks for sure…we just need lyrics. But yah know, we could totally use those songs in your notebook."

Her mouth opened, then shut; an obvious war of want and responsibility battling it out in her head.

"C'mon Fi" Cary pleaded, "It'll be great! You'd be perfect!"

"I'm definitely not perfect Cary." Fi shook her head, twisting the ring on her finger.

Cary watched her twist, brow slightly furrowing. She turned to look at him; he looked back at the magazine.

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself again.

"Well you're right about that," Cary teased after a few minutes passed, "You own this."

He held the magazine up accusingly.

Fi smirked, holding up her hands, "That's Annie's, not mine."

"Well then," He said, tossing the magazine into the waste bin, "I can't think of any reason you shouldn't be our singer."

Fi sighed. "Cary…" She sat back on her bed, "What has your mom said about this?"

His face fell.

"Tell yah what. I'll make a deal with you. When your mom says yes, I'll be your band's singer." She stuck her hand out for him to shake.

He smirked, grabbing her hand, "You should be careful what deals you make, Fi."

He got up and bounded out the door. Leaving her to unpack.

"You have no idea." She mumbled.