A/N: I want to take some time and thank all of you (yet again) for reading this story. This first part is a bit more difficult to write than I had first envisioned, but I shall keep going.

I hope you all enjoy it enough to keep reading, and if you would be so kind as to leave review, I would greatly appreciate it.

Please, enjoy my story.

Chapter 3: Decision

"Mr. Wammy!" Sylvia beamed as she opened the door, letting Quilish into the orphanage. "You're back! Laurent really must have had an effect on you."

Qullish took off his hat and gave her a little bow, "Why, but of course," he smiled. Then, he turned to hang his hat and coat upon the rack.

Sylvia's bright smile seemed to get even brighter at those words. "He's outside with everyone else. Come on, I'll take you there."

With that, Sylvia took Quillish through the building and out of a rear entrance to a playground of modest size. It was completely closed off from the rest of the world by a chain-link fence that was overtaken by weeds.

"This place was a school once," Sylvia said, looking around, "I'm not sure what caused them to move out, but I'm grateful. The kids have someplace to play here." The structures seemed ancient, slightly rusted and rotten, but they still held an air of nobility. It rather reminded Quillish of the ruins of London.

The children paid no mind to this spectacle as they were busy kicking a soccer ball around the relics of the old playground. Most of them were, at least. Little Laurent was crouching on the edge of the play area, just before the wall of weeds. He was staring quite intently at the grass below him.

Sylvia gave Quillish a little shove, "You can go and talk to him if you like. I'm sure he won't mind," she said.

Quillish smiled at Sylvia then made his way over to the little boy. He kneeled down and followed the child's gaze to a patch of dirt. "What's so interesting, Laurent?" he asked.

The child looked up, startled by the man's sudden appearance. "Hello, Sir," he said, "I was just watching ants."

"Ants? Is that so?" Quillish asked, looking closely at the ground, "They are rather interesting aren't they? One of my friends likes them so much that he actually has a job watching them."

"Really?" Laurent asked, looking up.

"Yes. People pay him a lot of money to stare at ants and tell them what they do," Quillish said, "It's called entomology."

"What's his name?"

"Roger," Quillish responded, "But he prefers to be called 'Doctor Ruvie.'"

"Oh."

The two slipped into a comfortable silence as they became absorbed in watching the tiny insects. That is, until Charlie, who was playing with the others, realized that Mr. Wammy was there.

"Hello, Sir!" Charlie yelled, running over to them, his soccer game suddenly forgotten. Quillish looked up to the see the energetic blond race up to them and stop just short of running them over. Charlie beamed at Laurent, "You see? I told you he'd be back!" he then turned to face Quillish, his smile bright as ever, "It's nice to meet you, Mister! I'm Charlie, one of Laurent's friends. He doesn't talk much, but he's a real nice kid! You should adopt him!"

He shot a smile at Laurent, who suddenly seemed more interested in the dirt than anything else. Charlie was obviously embarrassing him. Quillish, however, laughed. "Is that so, Charlie?" he asked, reaching up to ruffle the child's hair, "It's good to know that Laurent has friends like you. I already know what kind of kid he is, though, that's why I came back."

Charlie grinned, trying haphazardly to fix his hair, "I thought so, Mister," he laughed. "So, what are you guys doing?"

"Watching ants…" Laurent responded.

"Hmm, really?" Charlie asked, crouching down to take a look.

However, Charlie, being the bundle of energy that he was, could hardly stare at the ants for more than two seconds before he decided that the activity was boring. He leapt up again, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Mister! I'm gonna go play soccer again!" With that, Charlie ran off to join the rest of the children, who were quite pleased at his return.

"He's a spirited one," Quillish commented. Laurent nodded.

"Most grown-ups like him," Laurent said, trying to get an ant to crawl up his finger.

"That so?"

"Yes. He's the first kid most everyone goes to."

"Really, now?"

"Yes."

With that, the two continued to simply stare at the ants.

Quillish returned to the orphanage the next day, throwing Sylvia into a fit of happiness when she opened the door. "You're back again!" she pointed out excitedly, stepping aside to let the man in.

"That I am, Ma'am," Quillish smiled, giving his usual bow before he hung up his hat and coat.

"Laurent really likes you, you know," Sylvia said, "He's been smiling more ever since you showed up."

"That so?" Quillish asked, "Well, so have I."

"Have you decided yet? Do you want to start the process?" Sylvia asked.

"Not yet," Quillish replied.

That was how it went for days. Sylvia grew increasingly more excited whenever Quillish would show up at the doorstep, but he would always wave off actually starting the adoption procedure. Quillish wanted to wait until he was absolutely sure Laurent wanted it, too. The boy was difficult to read, and because of that, Quillish couldn't be completely positive that the child truly liked him.

As for Laurent, he immensely enjoyed Mr. Wammy's visits. He felt like he could just be himself with Mr. Wammy around without feeling strangely out-of-place. He could ask Mr. Wammy questions that weren't responded with a simple "because," or "I don't know," and Mr. Wammy never complained or even commented about Laurent's quietness. Also, as an added bonus, every time Mr. Wammy left, he would tell Laurent about another item he had invented. Laurent liked this newfound feeling of total acceptance. He liked Mr. Wammy.

Of course, Mr. Wammy never asked him, so Laurent assumed that he knew.

That was, until one day. It was a little drizzly outside, so they sat in the main room playing a game of checkers. As Quillish kinged one of Laurent's pieces, he asked a question he hadn't in a while, "Laurent, how would you like to be adopted?"

Laurent looked up from the checkerboard, surprise evident on his face.

"It's only a question," Quillish said, moving one of his pieces, "If you don't want to be, I understand."

Laurent was silent as he let his eyes drift over the board. Mr. Wammy had asked him if he wanted to be adopted. Yes, he immediately thought. If Mr. Wammy adopted him, he wouldn't have to look forward to him showing up every day. He would always be there. He would be there to read with him, play with him, answer his questions… and never leave. He wouldn't be left alone at the end of the day, as he had so often. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

Laurent looked up and with a smile on his face he said, "I do."

Quillish smiled. "I always hoped you would."

With that, they finished up their checkers game.

As Quillish left the main room that day, he told Sylva his decision. Sylvia was absolutely ecstatic. Hardly able to contain herself, she suddenly snagged Quillish by the wrist and pulled him into the office just off the side of the foyer. She babbled excitedly all the way there, telling him just how thrilled she was and how happy she was for him. When they made it to their destination, Sylvia let go of Quillish to introduce him to her older sister.

The woman seemed unfazed that her youngest sister had pulled a man into her office by his wrist, so it must have been a normal occurrence. She approached him and shook his hand warmly, "Hello, I'm Elizabeth Clark, the one in charge of finances and paperwork."

"I'm Quillish Wammy, pleased to meet you." Quillish responded.

"The pleasure is all mine," Elizabeth smiled, "Now, if you would please follow me."

Elizabeth sat Quillish down in a chair right before her desk, which was rather old and worn. After he was situated, she began opening the drawers of one of the many filing cabinets that filled the office. "You want to adopt Laurent, is that right?" she asked.

"How did you know?"

"Sylvia. She likes to tell me about prospective parents, and she said you took a shine to him," she pulled out a manila folder and carried it over to the desk. She sat down and pushed her glasses up her nose. "This is his file," she explained, "It's got all of his known history."

She opened the folder and glanced over the information, "This makes things easier," she mumbled, "Laurent has no surviving family that we know about."

Quillish blinked, "Really?"

"Yes, apparently his mother and father died in a car accident when he was about two and a half years old. He was in the car, too, but miraculously he survived with minimal injuries," she looked down the page, "According to this, he has no grandparents or aunts or uncles or anything."

Elizabeth looked up, tucking her hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ear. "As morbid as this sounds, this will mean less paperwork for you."

Quillish blinked, a little shocked, and just like that, the adoption process began.