Author's Note: Based on another request. The kids grow up and learn about their parents' pasts. Hope you guys enjoy!

A Secret

It was Tuesday and one of her short days at school. That meant the house was all hers until her parents closed the garage at eight. That meant she could play her music as loud as she wanted. She hooked her iPod to the stereo system, cranked it up and swung her hips as she danced her way up the stairs.

She'd just come from kick-boxing class, so her sweaty clothes were balled on the floor of the bathroom as she cranked the water up to hot, hot, hot.

"Tiene dentro esa chispa que quema transistores…" she sang along as she stepped under the spray, feeling the bass thump through the house.

A squirt of cucumber and apple body wash on her loofa. The bathroom filled with fragrance as she worked the sweet pea shampoo into her hair, humming and singing off key. The iPod had shuffled through half a playlist and the bathroom was full of steam before she heard the sound of the front door slamming open.

Cursing under her breath the young woman turned off the water and hastily wrung out her hair, grabbing a towel to wrap around her body. Annoyed that her time had been intruded upon she called down the stairs.

"I wasn't expecting you guys for hours!"

She couldn't hear the reply over her music so she went to her room to dress, pulling on a pair of ripped up jeans and a black t-shirt from the last concert she'd attended. Leaving her hair wet and down her back she hurried for the stairs, swinging into the living room to turn off the music. She frowned and looked around.

"Hello?"

"In here!" her cousin's voice called from the kitchen, and the young woman furrowed her brows, stepping into the room.

There she found him with a beat up dirty old box on the table and a folder in his hands.

She groaned. "Vince, do you have to bring your work here? Don't you have your own apartment now?"

"It's not work," he said seriously, looking at her. "I think you should sit down."

She eyed him for a long moment, then walked around him to get a couple of beers from the fridge. She popped the tops, passing him one before she dropped into a chair. "Really man, what is this shit?" She took a long drink and nodded to the box.

"Well… " he sighed, sipping his own beer. "I was going through my mom's old stuff in the attic because I got a bug up my ass and decided I ought to frame all my degrees and put them up at my new place." He rubbed a hand through his blonde hair, fluffing the curls up comically. It was darker now than when he'd been a kid, but still bleached gold in the summer sun.

"Anyway," he continued. "I found this box up there. It was unmarked and I was curious-"

"Big surprise," she interrupted drily, earning herself a look.

"You wouldn't believe what's in here. It's all stuff from years ago. Before we were born. Apparently my Dad worked as a cop for a while, here in LA, and then later as an FBI agent."

"What?" she gaped. "Why wouldn't he tell us that?"

"Because," he said, tossing a file down on the table between them. "He was working on a case against your Dad. Well… at least the first time."

Vince watched as his cousin reached for the file, snatching it up and flipping it open. There were pages, mug shots, and pictures of trucks. Inventory lists, car specs… She stared at them, flipping through in disbelief.

"Holy shit," she murmured.

"Yeah," he replied. "And it gets worse." He passed her another file. "After my Dad apparently let them get away on the truck jackings your Dad was tied to a lot of suspicious behavior outside of the states. They were stealing gas off moving trucks. I'm not even kidding." He held up his hands at her look. "Your Mom showed up and got involved in an undercover job to bring in some huge drug runner named Braga a few years later. That's when my Dad was with the FBI, and he was the one running her. The file says she died," he hissed, flipping it open to the pictures of several people, including her mother's all labeled as presumed dead. Her eyes were wide, confusion in them.

"But she's obviously not dead," she muttered. "And my Dad isn't in prison and your dad isn't a cop or FBI!" She tossed the papers at him. "Is this some kind of sick joke, V? Because I don't think it's very funny!"

"I'm not joking with you!" he shouted back. "Our parents have been lying to us our whole lives. Look, I always knew I wasn't born here in the US. I was born in Brazil. I never really understood why, and I guess I never thought to ask. Everything about my life that I remember is right here in LA. But our parents spent years on the run, living in other countries. After your Mom was labeled as dead the files get really sketchy. My Dad made notes about taking down Braga, and about getting your Dad's help. He said he was going to try and get the feds to make a deal for him. But he didn't."

He produced a few more sheets of paper, these newer looking. "So I did some digging. I found all these articles online." He passed them to her and she took them gingerly, reading the first headline.

"They broke him out of prison?"

"Right. And then I tracked them to Rio. They pulled off some crazy shit there too. Their friend Vince died there…"

"That's who you're named for?" she murmured softly, looking at him.

"Yeah. I mean, Mom told me about him and all but she never said how he died. Just that it was an accident."

"Yeah but that's not the weirdest thing here. How did my mother come back from the dead?"

"She's clearly a zombie," Vince deadpanned and she socked him hard in the arm. "Ow!"

"Don't be an ass, V!"

"She turned up again in Europe years later. There's stories about this guy Owen who apparently was brought down by some American agency but I think that our parents probably helped. And it wasn't long after that they came back to LA and settled down. Your Mom now with them and obviously alive."

She flipped through the papers with a sigh. "You're definitely going to be a great detective, Vincent."

"Yeah but now I get why my parents were so startled when that's what I decided I wanted to do with my life," he laughed a little, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's like our parents had their childhoods… and their teenage years… then just this big gap that they never told us about. And then they came back to LA and started fresh. Why wouldn't they tell us?"

"Maybe because they really did want a fresh start. Maybe they didn't want that part of their lives to touch us."

"I guess," he admitted, staring down at the box of files and papers scattered across the table and the floor. "But can we pretend we never saw this? I don't know that I can."

"No… I guess we need to talk to them about it." She sighed, then smiled. "Because they need to know that we love them no matter what they did back then." She paused then, picking up one of the files. "And actually… it's kind of damn impressive."