Hey there! I know, long, long, long time coming on this one. But here's something and I have a few more chapters written up that just need to be edited. So thanks to everyone who pushed for this - like I said, it's low priority. And thanks to Zickachik, too! Hopefully everyone enjoys!

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the show!

The next hour was spent on the couch watching Mr. Ed and Bonanza. Two-Bit had the good sense not to talk to me and Ponyboy seemed too busy watching TV to say anything. Sam was pressed up against my side the whole time and it was peaceful until the door slammed open and Ross stormed in. I didn't bother looking up; I knew already he was mad.

"You busted Del's nose with a beer mug," he snapped and I stroked Sam's fur as he growled at the tone Ross was using.

"Yeah," I answered, even though even I knew it wasn't a question.

"Woah…"

"Shut up, Two-Bit," Ross snapped before he could get going. I glanced up as he glared at me "What the hell's wrong with you?"

That wasn't the first time I'd heard that statement, but never from Ross. I looked back down at my knees wondering what was wrong with me. Ross growled before coming into my personal space and Sam growled back at him clearly. I looked up at where he was really glaring at me now.

"Do you have any idea what I have riding on Del's temper?" he asked, more like snapped.

"Dal…C'mon, man. She was pretty upset," Two-Bit pointed out and even I could have told him that was a bad idea.

"No one asked you. Shut up or leave," Ross ordered and I climbed off the couch.

"Leave him alone. You're mad at me," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I am. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I answered, not looking up from where I was eye level with his shoulder.

He grabbed my arm, hard, and I had to look at him then.

"Del is my safety if things get too hot in Tulsa. Next time, try thinking," he snapped and let go of me, shoving me towards the couch where I let myself fall.

Sam didn't take especially kind to that and stood up, hackles raised, teeth bared at Ross.

"Sam," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Ross looked me over and then turned to Two-Bit.

"I'll be back before dinner for her. She doesn't go anywhere, got it?"

Two-Bit didn't have a chance to say anything before Ross was gone out of the house. A moment later a car revved and I knew he was gone. I sighed and looked back over at the TV, unconsciously rubbing my arm from where Ross's fingers had dug into the skin.

"You ok?" Two-Bit asked and I nodded.

"Yeah. That's how the Winston clan shows affection," I replied "You know something isn't right if yelling and bruising doesn't ensue."

"I'm lost," Two-Bit admitted and I smirked with no humor.

"Let me draw it out for you. Del is our cousin. He's an asshole. I just wasn't conditioned enough to remember he wanted me upset."

"And Dal was mad because…?" he asked and I shrugged.

"He knows Del's an asshole, but he's Ross's out if things heat up too much in Tulsa. I assume he and Del are busy doing something stupid." I shook my head. "But he knew Del set me off first."

"Didn't act like it," Ponyboy threw in.

"Sure he did. I didn't take a single hit." I shrugged. "And he said he was coming back for me."

Two-Bit sat down on the couch, ruffling Sam's ears. He looked like something was bothering him and I figured it was mostly my fault. I should have just left without Sam. My heart ached at the prospect, though.

I leaned back into the couch, feeling sore still and wanting to just forget for a while. The TV was on the noon hour news. There was a real show. It told you what actually happened to people. All the other shows were made up. Even the talking horse. This was people. It may not have always been nice, but it was honest.

"Hey Pass?" Two-Bit finally asked. "Why are you alone?"

I shrugged. I'd spent years trying to forget why.

"I'm going to go sit on the porch. Watch some real life for a while," I told him. "Let me know if the horse comes back on."

Two-Bit seemed to get the hint and didn't follow me back out. I liked being outside. It was one of the perks about being a vagrant. You never had to go inside unless you wanted to or you were in trouble.

You usually never got attached, either. I sighed and wonder why it had happened so easily here? Maybe it was all Ross or Two-Bit or even the fact I had ties here before I even stepped foot in Tulsa. Whatever it was, it was making my life particularly difficult.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I glanced up at where Davie was standing on the sidewalk. I blinked. He was the last person I was expecting to see.

"No, but I'd take a beer cap," I told him and he smiled, walking up to the house and sitting down beside me. "Why are you here?"

"I have to have an excuse now?" he asked and I simply looked at him. "I was on my way home from work."

"You found another job?" I asked.

"Yeah. They needed another clerk over at the grocery store," he said, showing me his smock. "I even have a name tag and everything."

He showed it to me and I blinked. 'DAVY' was printed on it. Was that how you spelled Davie? I asked and Davie gave me an odd look.

"Yeah. That's how you spell Davy," he told me. "How have you been spelling it?"

I hadn't been, really. But I told him how I thought it should be spelled.

"That was close. Not bad for someone who doesn't go to school," he praised.

"I went to school," I told him. "Until I was nine."

"Oh yeah? Then you packed up and left home?" he asked and I shrugged.

"Life changed. I ended up living with my Aunt June in Missouri. She didn't see the point in sending off a perfectly good maid to school."

"Hey, if you're going to stick around, you should look into it," he suggested.

"I don't want to stick around," I told him. "I want to go to Florida."

"What's in Florida?"

"A warm winter and no one who knows me," I replied.

"You know you'd miss me," Davy declared and I shook my head at him.

"So be it."

Davy chuckled then. I had no idea what he was chuckling about. He wasn't like the rest of the people I knew. Everyone took me seriously when I said that.

"We'll see. My Granny used to say you had to take one day at a time before you considered your life a certainty."

"My Granny used to say that if you didn't want to get cussed at, leave Grandpa Floyd alone," I replied and he chuckled.

"Was it good advice?" he asked.

"No, he cussed anyway."

"Well, maybe you can give my old Granny a chance? They can't all be wrong."

I nodded, looking back out at the street. Davy was content to just sit beside me. I liked that about Davy. He knew when to ramble on and he knew when to be quiet. It was a unique trait.

"Hey Pass! Mr. Ed is on and – oh. You're here."

I glanced at where Two-Bit was looking down at Davy. Davy looked right back at him.

"Well, I should get going," Davy commented. "I have another shift at the store at six. I should make an appearance at home before then."

I nodded and let Davy walk away with a wave when he got to the sidewalk. Two-Bit filled his seat a minute later and gave me a serious look.

"You sure about him?" he asked and I shrugged.

"He's my friend. Why?" I asked and he shrugged.

"I've always found that the middle classers don't make much of an effort when it comes to us Greasers. At school, sure, but when we have to face reality…"

"I don't think he's a middle classer," I told him. "He practically supports his family."

"That's not the only thing that makes a person a Greaser. C'mon, you're missing the show."

And once again, Two-Bit gave me something to think on. There was more than being poor to being a Greaser. They were wild, they were free, they were always conscious of reality. They knew everyone was against them. It wasn't much different than being a drifter. You were free to do what you wanted, kind of wild because you did, and you couldn't depend on anyone but yourself because you were the only one out there who certainly wasn't out to get you…most of the time, anyway. Add on the fact anything more than a dollar was a fortune, and a drifter may have been even worse off than a Greaser. At least they had stability.

It was about five o'clock when Pony's brother, Sodapop, and his friend Steve showed up. Soda was all smiles and happy greetings while Steve was rubbing at his shoulder and holding it stiffly. He flopped down on the floor nearly in front of where I was sitting on the couch and slouched over it slightly. It was obvious he didn't want anyone to pay attention to it, even if it hurt.

"What's up with you?" Two-Bit finally asked. "Pull something playing monkey again?"

"Ha, funny," Steve replied. "I don't know what the hell I did to it."

It looked like he tried to catch himself on the wall or floor he was thrown into, but the angle was wrong and something shifted that shouldn't have.

"You should have Soda look at it," Pony suggested, getting only a glare in return.

"He's already looked at it," Steve growled.

"Lift your arm straight up."

Steve turned his head to look at me with a frown. "Why?"

"Because I think I know what you did to it," I answered, trying to keep his gaze.

Steve thought on it for a few minutes before finally sticking his arm straight up. I gently turned it so his palm was facing in. He winced and I let him hold it for a sec before putting my hand on the base of the shoulder. Then I shoved without warning and Steve yelped.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded and I practically curled back into the couch.

"An out-of-line shoulder," I replied. "Can you move it better now?"

"What do you mean 'move it'?" he growled. "I'm not sure I want to try anything you suggest after that."

"C'mon, Steve," Two-Bit jumped in. "Either she made it worse or better."

Steve glared at him before rolling his shoulder and moving his arm. He looked surprised and I relaxed a little.

"I'll be damned."

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Two-Bit asked, sitting down beside me to nudge my shoulder with his.

I shrugged. "You ever see Ross move like he's shoving his bones back into place?"

"Sometimes," Two-Bit replied with a frown.

"My Granny used to say that we had sloppy joints in our family. It comes with the blonde hair and blue eyes," I answered. "So you pick up a few things."

"Thanks," Steve said and I could tell he didn't say it often.

"It'll still be a tad tender," I warned him. "Here, slide back."

Wary again, Steve slid back against the couch. To further illustrate how bad our joints ran in my family, I flexed my fingers and watched as the bones all popped back. Two-Bit and Steve both winced. I rubbed Steve's shoulders and neck, watching Steve relax into the touch. I knew my hands weren't big enough to do much, but it was something.

Soda came over to watch and I showed him what to rub and how hard. His hands were bigger and warmer and he seemed to have some idea of what he was doing before he came over. Steve was practically falling to sleep under our fingers when Ross walked in and gave us all a strange look. I shrugged and refused to look up at him again.

You see, I may have understood my cousin Ross, but that didn't mean I had to like being on his bad side.

Well, this was a little more of a look at Pass's thought processes (Zickachik summed that up nicely for me). So the next couple chapters are a bit more action.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted!

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens & Zickachik