Author's Note: We've officially switched from first person POV to third. Repo! quotes will be used to separate various POVs and the quote itself may or may not be a hint about what's going on. Subtlety isn't my strength, generally. Enjoy!

Chapter One

"Daddy's girl's a fucking monster."

Shilo Wallace was alone in her room, plunking carelessly at a piano, when she officially became a woman. She'd noticed something sticky and damp between her thighs. When she'd looked, the fresh blood on her porcelain skin had screamed, "Time to grow up, Shilo!" Or at least that was the impression she'd received.

The bleeding wasn't a big shock to her. Her dad, who was nothing if not thorough, had home schooled her and they'd covered menstruation and reproduction in her biology 'class'. Shilo knew why she was bleeding and she had the supplies to take care of it. The blood wasn't what bothered her. At sixteen, she'd begun to wonder if she'd ever really become a woman or if her blood disease would somehow steal that from her, too. Now it had happened without anyone around who would really care except her. Her dad was working and her mother was dead. She didn't have friends. There was just Shilo, the blood and a house that was beginning to feel smaller and smaller all the time.

Hours after having made her discovery, Shilo was suffering from cramps and the feeling that she had no future. She was a woman who couldn't have the opportunity to be a woman. Her disease kept her locked in the house, unable to go outside. She was bald and skinny. There were no beautiful curves or the full breasts a pretty woman was supposed to have. She was just a stick person, not real at all.

Her mood was decidedly bad and when she began staring at her childish stuffed animals, an idea struck her that filled Shilo with a vicious satisfaction. She gathered a few stuffed animals and one of her newer paper doll books. Dumping them all on her window seat, she stepped up and tugged open her window. The sky was as gray as it always was, the world outside her window buzzing with noise she'd never be a part of. Shilo gritted her teeth, reached for the gray rabbit she'd loved since she was five and hurled it out the window as hard as she could. The cramps didn't go away but Shilo suddenly felt better. A little frustration leaked out and she grinned. This was fun. She grabbed the paper doll book and threw it out next. This time the result was different. Almost immediately the sound of someone cursing reached her window.

"What the fucking hell?" Shilo's eyes widened. She'd heard foul language before but never in person. Whoever it was promptly spotted her standing at the window. From that distance it looked like a woman, wearing a long dark coat. "Hey, kid!" she shouted. "Why don't you throw you stuff in the trash like normal people?"

"It's what you need to change inside."

Olivia Stewart was in a mood she couldn't even define. There was no happiness or sadness. The last twenty-nine years of her life seemed to have passed in a blink and now she had no real idea where she was headed, literally and metaphorically. She walked past rundown homes and graveyards, boots crunching against debris left on the streets. Olivia kept her head down. It was the best way to be left alone in this town, keeping the head down. Although perhaps a confrontation would put her in a better frame of mind. There was nothing like a good fistfight.

She paused in her pointless journey. Thoughts like that were what had her in such an ambiguous mood. She felt torn in too many directions, the majority of them violent. It had become too easy to find shelter in her work rather than to seek an answer. Of course, she wasn't working now and she hadn't found any answers. All she knew was that she needed something outside of the morgue she called home. She needed something a little normal. Olivia didn't associate with people much and she was beginning to think that might be part of the problem. In fact, the only person she actually talked to was a drug dealer who spent most of his time with the dead. But who was she to complain? Olivia lived with the dead.

A stuffed rabbit flew over her head and landed on the pavement before her. Olivia blinked a few times. That certainly hadn't been expected. It wasn't often that rabbits fell from the sky. She kneeled down to pick up the rabbit and something hard hit her in the back of the head. Olivia swore loudly, reaching to feel her abused skull. While she searched for damage she looked to see what had hit her. A thick book of paper dolls was the guilty party, lying next to her on the street. She stood up angrily, aiming a glare at the only window of the house behind her that was open. It was one of the old brick houses that had survived the rest of the modern city. Clearly it hadn't survived easily, though, if the scarred bricks and rather sketchy shingles said anything.

"Hey, kid!" Olivia shouted at the girl standing at her window, clinging to the pointed black railing that looked like the only thing that was keeping her from plummeting to the ground. "Why don't you throw your stuff in the trash like normal people?"

"I'm not a kid!" she shouted back. "And I'm not normal!"

"Clearly!" Olivia couldn't believe she was in a shouting match with some kid in a tower. Another stuffed animal was tossed, this time an elephant.

"I'm sixteen!"

"Well, bully for you," she muttered before raising her voice. "Why the hell are you tossing things out your window?"

"I'm menstruating!" Olivia blinked. Once again, not expected.

"Do you always react this way?"

"This is my first time!" A sixteen year old who hadn't had a period before? Girls were getting periods earlier and earlier these days. She must not have been exposed to the chemicals normal teens ingested on a daily basis. Olivia wondered how sheltered this kid was. Her train of thought was promptly interrupted by the kid's next question. "How did you react your first time?" She stared blankly up at the white-gowned teenager, shocked at the invasion of her privacy.

"Er… I, uh… Look, can't you talk to your mother about this?"

"My mother's dead." Olivia felt a stab of pain and sympathy for this child who was so new to womanhood. She knew all too well what it was like to lose a mother.

"What about an older sister or an aunt or something?" she suggested.

"I only have my dad," the kid replied. Olivia winced. The idea of a single father with a teenaged daughter who didn't have any females on hand to talk to was painful. And now the kid was reaching out to some woman on the street simply because they both had working ovaries. It made a twisted sort of sense. Desperate is as desperate does. Although, really, the girl was seriously naïve. Who trusted a perfect stranger in this world? She was lucky Olivia wasn't planning on manipulating her way into the house and taking all the valuables. Or worse.

"Look, kid… Er, I mean, girl… What is your name, anyway?" she demanded.

"Shilo Wallace," was the prompt answer. It was then that Olivia had a thought. Shilo was willing to do just about anything to make a connection with someone else. The fact that she'd found Olivia, a person with a lingering sense of honor, instead of some pervert was sheer luck. In this town, luck like that never struck twice. If Olivia just walked off, Shilo would undoubtedly stumble into trouble. She wouldn't stumble, actually. She'd probably dive into it willingly.

Olivia was stunned by the realization that a living, breathing person needed her. It was exhilarating. Thrilling, almost. When had she last been thrilled?

"My name's Olivia Stewart. You can call me Livvy. Most people do." Olivia cleared her throat. If she shouted anymore, she was going to lose her voice. "Listen, Shilo, could you give me your bracelet number? It'd be a lot easier to talk to you if I didn't have to holler." Olivia didn't doubt for a second that Shilo had a communication cuff. Everyone had them. They were the convenient way for people to get in touch.

"Sure! Of course! Sorry, I didn't think - "

"Shilo, the number?"

"I must be brave come, come what may."

After Shilo gave a complete stranger her number, she began to wonder just what she thought she was doing. If her dad found out about this he would totally lose it. He'd been getting less patient with her recently. That probably had something to do with the fact that she'd been less cooperative but still. She knew she was treading on thin ice.

Then her bracelet jingled, letting her know that a call was coming through, and Shilo forgot about her dad. Someone was calling her. Someone new. She grinned, excited at the prospect of having a conversation with someone who wasn't her father. The cuff projected a small holographic image of Livvy Stewart and she studied her features like she did the constellations at night. She couldn't know what her exact coloring was right thanks to the blue and white tones of the projection but she got the general idea. Livvy had dark hair that was swept up in a complex style Shilo had never seen. A hair stick and probably several pins secured the hair over the right side of Livvy's face, leaving the back of her neck bare. The left side of her face was smooth and pretty unremarkable while the right side was a dark mystery. It made the teen naturally curious.

"You there, Shilo?"

"I'm here," she said, a little embarrassed by how eager she sounded. "I mean, yeah. It's working fine." A soft chuckle echoed out of the bracelet's speaker, probably in response to how cool Shilo had tried to make her voice.

"All right, then. You wanted to ask me something?" It took her a minute to recall exactly what that was.

"Um, what was it like for you the first time you… menstruated?"

"Painful and embarrassing. I was at school when blood started to drip down my legs. And kids, being kids, never let me live it down. Plus, the cramps were absolutely brutal. I'm one of the lucky gals that have painful cramps every time."

"Do you have a narrow cervix?" There was a moment of silence.

"Shilo, questions like that are going to make this a very short conversation." Shilo blanched. Was she not supposed to ask things like that?

"It's just that my dad told me women with a narrow cervix have more painful menstrual cramps. He said it was because the uterus had to contract harder to get out the, uh, the something tissue. I can't remember what the word is but it starts with an 'e'."

"Your dad told you all that?" Livvy let out a snicker. "And to think the only thing my dad knew was to keep out of the line of fire when it was that time of the month." Shilo sat down on her window seat, still staring down at the figure of Livvy. It occurred to the secluded girl that she was talking to a normal woman. Despite her odd hairstyle, she'd had a normal father and a normal education. She got to walk around outside and do all sorts of interesting things. "So how are the cramps for you? Terrible wrenching pain or minor discomfort?"

"It just aches," Shilo said, wrapping an arm around her middle. She hadn't really been thinking about it but the pain was definitely present. Now that it had her attention, she realized it was a bit stronger than before Livvy had come along. Could cramps get worse over time instead of better? "It goes away eventually, right? In a day?"

"Well, yeah, but you don't have to suffer through it," Livvy pointed out. "Don't you have some pain meds in there?"

"Not in my room. I just have my normal medication here." Shilo let out a sigh. "I have a blood disease. I'm weak a lot and I can't go outside. Or leave my room, dad says."

"I'm sorry, Shilo," she said. There was genuine regret in her voice. "And, damn. No pain meds? We'll have to try some more basic remedies. Do you have a heating pad?"

"I don't know. I might have something…" Shilo mumbled, her sentence trailing off as she started looking through drawers.

"The only other effective thing I can think of is an orgasm. I refuse to talk you through that," Livvy stated firmly. Shilo choked on a giggle. Even if there was pain, she hadn't had this much fun in a long time. She and her dad tended to argue more than anything else now. They hadn't joked or played. But even when things had been good with her dad, they'd never talked about sex. They'd definitely never joked about it.

"Ooh, I have a blanket that heats up!" Shilo said, pulling the neatly folded blanket out of her dresser.

"That'll do just fine. Now heat it up and put it over your stomach. After that, just take a nap. Rest is always best."

"Story of my life," Shilo muttered bitterly.

"I don't suppose you feel like sharing that with me at the moment," Livvy speculated out loud. Shilo glanced suspiciously down at her bracelet.

"Why are you being so nice to me? I hit you with a book. Why are you answering any of my questions at all?" There was no immediate answer. Of course, an immediate answer probably wouldn't have answered the question very well.

"You're young. I haven't felt young in a very long time." Livvy sighed. "I'm exhausted, Shilo. All the time. It's depressing. When you hit me with that book, I wasn't depressed anymore. Right now I'm not tired and, even if it's selfish, I'd rather not let that go."

"Oh. So… you don't really care about me," Shilo murmured, not really sure why she felt hurt by that. Livvy was a stranger. Why would she care about her?

"You know what's weird, Shilo? I think I might." The voice of Nathan Wallace interrupted the call.

"What are you doing out here?" Shilo froze. Her dad was home and he'd seen Livvy. Oh, she was going to be in so much trouble…

"He won't bother to write or to phone you."

Olivia figured she was in a sticky situation. Working with corpses, you had your occasional sticky situation but generally the other party didn't voice their opinion. The man standing just outside his front door didn't look dead to her.

"What are you doing out here?" She would have thought it was a nice voice if it hadn't been so cold. The look she was getting from behind the dark-rimmed glasses of Shilo's father was also far from warm. The way he was dressed set her a little off balance, too. He was wearing something her father probably would have liked, simple brown slacks and an ashy blue jacket. Mr. Wallace dripped old world manners. She had no idea how to handle him.

"Your daughter, uh, accidentally dropped some toys," Olivia said, stooping down to gather the victims of Shilo's rage. "I was just drying to determine how to get them back to her."

"You can leave them by the gate," Mr. Wallace replied with all the warmth of a slab in the morgue. "My daughter is in no condition to entertain strangers on the street."

"Entertained is stretching it," Olivia said, unable not to poke at him a tad. His stern demeanor demanded a few pokes. "Perplexed is a better word." He didn't respond and she didn't really have anything else to do except put the expelled toys outside the gate. "I'd say it was nice to meet you but we haven't exactly met properly so…"

"Nathan Wallace." He approached the gate slowly. There was a familiar grace in his movements that struck a chord in Olivia. That was how an animal moved while it decided whether to eat you or not. His eyes cut into hers. The uninteresting brown of his short hair hadn't prepared her for the intensity of his blue-green eyes. "I won't see you again."

"Olivia Stewart," she replied, nodding her head slightly. "With any luck, you won't." She swiftly turned on her heel and made her way up the street.

What she hadn't told Nathan Wallace was that the luck would have to be hers since she had every intention of seeing Shilo again and it would take quite a bit of luck not to get caught. Olivia didn't fight the grin that curved her mouth.

On the day rabbits fell from the sky, she'd found exactly what she'd needed to find. A purpose.