Harrison lay back on a lawn chair outside the McQueen-McPherson home, relaxing in the twilight. He didn't notice a woman walking up behind him, a beautiful woman in a black dress.

"Isn't it a bit soon for you to be relaxing?" she said when she was directly behind him.

"What! – What the hell are you doing here?" he snarled, jumping up to face her.

"Well, it's been weeks now since your pet ran away and you haven't managed to bring her home yet. People are starting to talk." She smiled as she took his place in the chair, leaning back like a cat stretching.

"I'll bring her back. She doesn't even know what's real or isn't anymore." He was trying to sound calm, but he was almost panting.

Stretching her neck from side-to-side, the woman leaned forward, her smile fading.

"You're taking too long – and it's making you look bad. If you don't hurry up, someone else will claim her."

"What do you mean?" Harrison was sick of this woman and her threats, sick of all of them. He couldn't keep the rage off of his face.

"I mean," she said, standing up to walk towards the boy, making him back away, "that your little blonde pet didn't make any deals. If you want her, you've got to convince her. If we had her locked up, we could just sic the hounds on her, but we don't have a claim on her. You've got to convince her to come back – or at least make her think she can't go anywhere else."

"It's going to happen," Harrison said, trying to sound confident, but his voice cracked.

"Don't worry kitten," the woman said, putting her arm around the boy, "we're going not taking your toys away – yet, we're just giving things a nudge."

She smiled. Harrison eyed her with suspicion.

********************

Inside, Mike McQueen continued to rub his temples. "It was the accident, wasn't it? – It had to be?"

"Yes, daddy," Brooke said, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "that's it. I got hit on the head and now I like girls."

"Well the hell was it then!?" the chair slid across the floor as he jumped to his feet to stare at the startled girl. "You were never like this before. Now, you're a freak."

Brooke had never been afraid of her father before, despite arguments, groundings, and raised voices. Now, looking at her father, she felt fear for the first time. She tried to keep her voice soothing as she answered him. "I'm… I'm not a freak daddy." She looked around the room as she said it, waiting for this latest trick to end, to wake up.

She waited to wake up, but Mike's voice was still angry. "So what was it then? – Sam? Did she do something to you?"

She's done a few things to me, Brooke thought, but that wasn't something she wanted to tell her father right now (or ever, actually).

Mike was visibly impatient with her failure to respond. "ANSWER ME! – What did she do to you? How did she fuck you up like this!?"

Brooke's father had never sworn at her before. Her eyes were starting to tear, and she was afraid to upset him any further.

"I'm not warped daddy – I'm not broken, or bent or twisted."

"The hell you're not!" He was screaming now, spittle flying from his lips. "My daughter's not some fucking dyke. It's not going to happen!"

"Stop it daddy." Brooke was crying opening now. "Stop it, please."

Mike ignored her, his face was red and he was walking around the room as he continued his tirade. "I should never have let that weirdo into my house. I knew she was trouble, but I thought you could handle it."

"I can – I mean, she's not." Brooke didn't recognize the man in front of her. Was this always inside her father, waiting to lash out at her when she didn't act the 'perfect daughter' for even a second?

"Don't," he said, holding his finger in front of her fact. "Don't you dare try and defend her. You were vulnerable – you were in a wheelchair for heaven's sake. How could Sam take advantage of you like that?"

Brooke wiped her tear-streaked face. "That's not what happened."

"Of course it is," Mike said, taking her by the shoulders. You were just too naive and messed up to realize it." His voice seemed calming, having found someone to blame this on other than Brooke. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of this."

"How are you? – What do you mean?" She was getting scared again.

"We'll get you back in therapy. You'll see what a mistake this is."

Brooke tried to protest, but Mike wouldn't hear of it. "Right now," he said, "we've just got to get you out of this house – pack a bag!"

"What! Are you crazy?" Brooke said. Do everyone's parents get this weird, she thought.

"Enough," Mike snapped. "I said, pack a bag. I'll take you to a hotel for now – until we figure out what to do next."

"I'm not leaving." Brooke suddenly had the image of her face on a milk carton.

She screamed as Mike slammed her into the kitchen counter, holding her arms so tight that it hurt.

"You will go to your room and pack a bag now or I'll have you committed so quickly you won't have time to think." His eyes were focused with rage, and Brooke realized she was shaking.

"I hate you," she hissed.

Mike slapped her. She fell to the floor. Her ears were ringing and she could feel the sting in her cheeks.

"Get up and pack – NOW!"

********************

Watching through the window, Harrison and the woman in black smiled.

"Nice," he said without turning to look at her.

********************

Brooke packed a bag in silence, too shocked by what had happened to speak. Mike had unplugged all the phones and taken her cell. She couldn't call Sam to warn her, or just to talk to her.

Mike called Jane on his cell, asking her to come home right away. He didn't allow Brooke to come downstairs while he told her what Brooke was sure was a very skewed version of what happened.

When was finally allowed to come down, Jane glared at her the way you look at someone who betrayed you – the way Brooke looked at Nicole for the last few months. The way she would have looked at her father now, if she could stand to look at him at all. Jane took Mac upstairs without saying anything to Brooke. Mike took that as his cue to drag her and her suitcase into the car. She was too numb to even ask him where they were going.

********************

When Sam came home an hour later, she was still grinning from her visit with Lily and Carm. The grin vanished when she saw her mother sitting at the kitchen table, her arms folded.

"Mom?" she asked. Sam could tell she'd been crying

"Sam," Jane said, "we need to talk… about you and Brooke."

Oh shit, Sam thought.

********************