"I know it'll be bad news when Mom and Dad find out," Lucy said. "Maybe not Mom so much, but I know Dad will have a problem with us. However, we shouldn't worry about that until we have to." She paused. "Since Sam is gone, I could stay here with you if you want, instead of going back to Mimi's. Would you like that?"

Damon sighed. "Sure, I guess. Thanks."

Lucy sighed. "You're welcome. I'll go make up the sofa."

"Oh, don't be silly," Damon said. "You can come be in bed with me."

"With Mom and Dad possibly coming bursting through the doors any minute, do you think us sleeping together is a good idea?" Lucy asked.

"I thought we were only dealing with that when we had to," Damon said. "Cookie Monster, what's the matter? One minute you're sending me sexy pictures and the next you don't want to come near me. Have I done something?"

"Well, it's just that you seemed...less than enthusiastic when I offered to stay here, so I thought I'd overstepped my boundaries again," Lucy said. "I know I do that sometimes."

"Well, how did you want me to respond?" Damon asked.

"Well," Lucy blushed a little. "I wanted you to say 'to hell with your parents!' and then pick me up and carry me off to your bed. I know that sounds silly, but..."

"Okay, go out into the hallway and we'll do this again...the right way," Damon said.

"All right," Lucy said and went out into the hallway. Damon opened the door. "Well, hello," he said smoothly. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I figured since Sam was gone, I might stay here tonight and keep you company." Lucy said. "Would you like that?"

Damon cleared his throat. "Well, yes I would. But you do know that your mother knows about how old Sam is, and probably you too? Your parents could come barging in here any moment to find us!"

"Oh, dear!" Lucy said. "Does that matter?"

"Nope!" Damon said, picking her up from the doorway. "To hell with them! If this is gonna be one of our last nights together, let's make it a memorable one!"

"'One of our last nights together'?" Lucy asked. "That's a bit dramatic. Did you say the same thing to Mom before you left for the war?"

Damon froze and put Lucy down on the bed. "What's the matter?" She asked. Did I say something wrong?"

Damon sighed. "I think it would be best if we didn't talk about your mother when it's just you and me, all right?"

"Sure," Lucy nodded. "Okay. We won't talk about her."

"Well, I'm not saying we can't talk about her at all," Damon corrected her. "Just not when we're about to, you know."

"Have sex?" Lucy asked. "I can say it if you can't. And if you can't really say it, should we really be doing it?"

Damon grinned. "We've already done it."

Lucy flushed. "I know, but-"

"And it's what you came over here for, right?"

"Maybe," Lucy said. "Do you want that to be the reason why I came over here? It's all right to admit it if you do."

"Do you usually talk this much when you're nervous?" Damon asked.

"I'm not nervous!" Lucy said. She stood up and pulled off her dress. "See? If I was nervous, would I have been able to do that?"

He looked at her her almost pityingly. "Get dressed, Cookie Monster," he said. "I'll go make some popcorn and we'll watch a movie."

"Well, that's kind of anticlimactic after all that 'Let's make our last night together a memorable one' talk, isn't it?" Lucy asked, running after him.

He turned. "Let's just see where things go, shall we?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and they went into the kitchen together to make popcorn. After it got done, Lucy took a piece of popcorn out of the bowl. "Can you catch this in your mouth if I throw it at you?" Lucy asked.

"I've never actually tried," Damon said. "But I could give it a shot." She threw it at him and it missed, falling to the floor, instead.

"See?" Damon told her. "I knew I was going to be bad at this."

"Well, I might have started too far away," Lucy said. "Let me get closer." She walked over to him so that their chests were touching and then put his arm around her waist. "Open your mouth," she commanded. He opened it and she threw the popcorn in. "Well, there you go," she said. "You caught it that time."

"Well, think how close you were to me," Damon said. "It was impossible for you to miss!"

Lucy shrugged. "That doesn't matter. You have to start somewhere." She took the bowl of popcorn into the living room and sat it down on the sofa. "So what movie are we going to watch?" Lucy asked. "Not something gory or full of swear words. I don't like that. How about something classic? Something with a lot of action that's romantic at the same time?"

Damon took Lucy's hand and led her into the bedroom, pulling open one of the drawers of his dresser. It had a false bottom and under that was a dvd still wrapped in plastic. "How about this?" He asked, holding it up to her. "Will it do?"

Lucy took it and looked it over. "Casablanca? I've never seen that. What's it about?"

"Well, basically," Damon said, "This rough-hewn but charming guy played by Humphrey Bogart helps save his former lover Ilsa from the Nazis by sending her away to America from Casablanca, along with her husband who loves her, even though she, Ilsa, still loves him and not her husband."

"Wow," Lucy said. "That Ilsa seems like something else if you ask me."

"I don't know if you'll want to judge her before you see her," Damon said. "You might find she has some good in her once you watch it. I never liked her though. I always thought she and Victor deserved each other."

"So you've seen this?" Lucy asked. "It doesn't look like you've unwrapped it."

"I've seen it lots of times," Damon said "Your mother and I went when it first came out. She bought me this particular dvd, I just never liked it enough to open it."

"Well, if you don't like it, then why are we watching it now?" Lucy asked.

"I don't know," Damon said. "I just thought you might like it. Your mother does."

"All right," Lucy nodded. "I'll give it a shot."

Damon put the dvd in the player and they started the movie. Lucy watched it with discontent on her face and by the middle of it, she was asleep with her head on Damon's lap. He looked down at her, her eyes closed and her breathing even, moving her head up to his shoulder. Then he turned off the television and put her to bed, grabbing a blanket and a pillow to sleep on the floor beside her.

Lucy woke up the next morning and looked at the space on the bed beside her. It was empty. She pushed the blankets aside and saw that she was still fully clothed. She heard a bump and a groan and leaned over the side of the bed to look down and saw Damon.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Lucy asked. "Did you fall out of bed last night or something?"

Damon sat up and shook his head. "I didn't sleep in that bed last night. I tucked you in and set myself up here."

"Ah," Lucy said. "Because you were overcome with reluctance to get in bed with me again?"

Damon stood up and looked at her. "Well, let's just put it this way," he said. "If you and I aren't having sex, the fact that you roll around, kick, and steal the bedcovers is way more noticible than it is when you and I are both so tired that we just pass out. And last night, since you fell asleep before the end of the movie, I wanted to make sure you had all the mattress space you needed."

"Excuses, excuses," Lucy said.

"Get dressed," Damon told her. "You have school. When you're done, come out and have some breakfast before you go."

"Well fine," Lucy said. Damon pulled on a t-shirt along with his boxers and left the room, leaving Lucy to dress by herself. When she arrived at the breakfast table, she discovered that Damon had already set out waffles for each of them and there was a glass of milk by her place and something in a glass she didn't recognize by his.

"What are you drinking?" She asked.

"Whisky," Damon said.

"Can I have some?" Lucy asked again.

Damon shook his head. "No, you can't. You're too young. You drink your milk. That's what I set it out for."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Did you treat Mom this way too?" She asked.

"No," Damon shook his head. "Actually, I started her on whisky when she was about fourteen. One day, her mother dragged her along to a party of a friend of hers and your mom had a really bad time, so she came over to my house and told me about it and, fool I was back then, I told her that the best way to forget your troubles is by drinking them away."

"And she believed you?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah," Damon nodded. "She's been an alcoholic on and off ever since. Hopefully your uncle's gotten her off it for good."

"He probably has," Lucy said. "He doesn't approve of people who drink too much." She winced at the milk in her glass and gulped it down, slamming it down on the table and picked up her waffle as she made her way out the door.

"One more thing," Damon said, putting a restraining hand on Lucy's shoulder. "If you see Sam at school, would you check up on him for me? Make sure he's okay?"

Lucy shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I don't know if he'll wait up for me, but I'll try."

Damon nodded. "Good girl. Have a good day at school."

"Math test today," Lucy said, screwing up her face. "I hate math."

"I thought you were a genius or something," Damon said.

"Oh, I am," Lucy said. "I can do the math without a problem. But just because I can do something well, that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"That's true," Damon said.

Lucy looked up at the clock on the wall. "I better be getting on my way," she said. "I don't want to be late."

"Bye," Damon called after her.

"Bye," Lucy said over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.

Just before her math test, Sam met up with Lucy at her locker. "I need a favor," he said.

"What is it?" Lucy asked her brother. "I have a math test soon and I don't want to be late for it."

"Yeah," Sam said. "I bet you just can't wait to take your seat in the front row." He smirked.

Lucy caught his eyes. "You know," she said, "if you want someone to do you a favor, the last thing you should do is antagonize them," she said. "Especially when the favors are somewhat immoral, as yours tend to be."

"They are not!" Sam protested. "They're no worse than any regular person would ask. "

"So what do you want?" Lucy asked, free hand on her hip.

"If I paid you, would you write an essay for me?" Sam asked. "It's for a class I'm not doing very good in, so I need a good grade."

"What class would that be?" Lucy asked.

"History," Sam said. "And the essay is about the Civil War."

"How can you not feel confident about writing something like that?" Lucy asked. "Your parents lived through it, for crying out loud! They can give you first hand accounts and everything! Without even trying hard, you should have the best grade in the class! Or you would, if you weren't so lazy."

"Do you want the ten bucks or not?" Sam asked through his teeth.

"As much as I would love to take money from you," Lucy said, "To do it for the reason that you ask is the most ridiculous thing I can imagine, so I don't want your money. Undoubtedly, though, you should have no trouble finding someone else either dumb enough or so hard up for money that they do what you want without question." She smirked. "Good luck with that. And when your plan fails miserably, let that be a lesson to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a math test to get to."

She hurried off, leaving Sam speechless in the hallway.

Luckily for Sam, the morning the paper was due, he didn't have to worry about turning it in. He woke up with a cough and a headache and his throat was so sore he could barely even croak for Selina come and check on him.

"Well, you look horrible," she said, standing in the doorway. She looked at his flushed face and put a hand on his forehead and cheek after he gave her a scathing look and she came further inside. "And you have a temperature. Looks like you'll have to stay home from school today."

"Damn," Sam croaked. "That's a real bummer."

"Was something due?" Selina asked him, frowning at his language.

"Nothing big," he said. "I'm sure if my teachers know that I'm sick, they won't mind waiting for me to hand it in."

"I guess that's all we can do," Selina said. "Unless you want me to give it to Lucy and have her hand it in for you. In fact, that might be better."

Sam's eyes widened and he moaned, but Selina darted out of the room anyway, and came back with the phone.

"Damon," she was saying into it, "Has Lucy left for school yet? She hasn't? Well, could you tell her to stop by here on her way? Sam caught the flu or something and he's got an essay due today. All right. We'll be waiting for her."

She gave Sam a look after she hung up. "So where's your essay?"

Sam pointed weakly. "Over on the table."

"You did write this yourself, didn't you?" Selina asked. "You didn't pay anyone to write it for you?"

Sam coughed and shook his head. "I'm gonna die," he moaned. "Wouldn't you feel bad if I died and the last conversation we had was you chiding me about whether I finished an essay or not? I did do it myself, though. That's why it's gonna suck."

"Well, at least you made an effort," Selina said.

Lucy came by soon after to grab the essay and as she read it on the way out, she realized how terrible it was. She ripped it up, let it blow away, and decided that she would compel their teacher to give Sam more time to write a second draft instead. He could do better and he deserved the opportunity. It wasn't his fault he got sick. He was only human after all.

She arrived at school and met Jason, who led her to class. "Good luck," he told her. "I just know the teacher is gonna love your essay."

"I have no doubt about that," she said. She sat down at her desk and when class started, everyone handed in their essays and they commenced with the lesson of the day. After class was over and every one else had left, Lucy went to the teacher and locked eyes with him. "Sam is sick," she said. "You will give him more time to finish his essay. About a week, after he gets better, of course. And I will tell you when that is."

The teacher nodded and Lucy left the room feeling the tiniest bit bad about what she'd just done. But, she reminded herself, even Uncle Elijah will compel people in desperate circumstances, and this was definitely a desperate circumstance.

That night, Selina had no trouble getting Sam to fall asleep, but Gregory was another story. He sat up, looking at her with wide brown eyes, giggling and babbling incoherently. "Okay," she said for what seemed like the fiftieth time, "Time to go to bed, all right, Gregory?"

He drooled and then rolled out from under his blankets as she tried to tuck him in.

She sighed, her sweaty hair hanging in her face. She felt like she was going to pass out right over the crib.

"Ba-boo!" He said. "Ba-boo!"

"What does that even mean?" Selina cried out. "You're not hungry, you don't need to be changed, what else would you need?" She grabbed hold of her hair and was about to give it a strong tug when a small container of bubbles caught her eye. "Wait a minute," she said, slowly getting up. She walked over to the bubbles and carried them to the crib. "Is this what you mean?" She asked. "You want bubbles?" She swished the wand around a bit and blew on it, sending bubbles floating around the room. As Gregory watched them, she was able to get him settled into bed and watch as he finally closed his eyes and went to sleep.

She looked down at him and sighed, running a hand over his cheek. Then, she heard a soft knock on the door. "Is everything all right in there?" Elijah whispered after cracking the door open a bit.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Everything's fine, finally." He came in and she took his hand, letting him lead her out of the room. When they were standing outside, she just sort of collapsed against him, her eyes closing.

"My poor darling," he said, picking her up and carrying her to bed. "Gregory really wore you out, didn't he?"

Selina snuggled under the covers as he tucked her in. "Uh-huh," she breathed. "So sleepy...so sleepy..."

Elijah ran his fingers through her hair, then crawled into bed beside her and turned on the light.

The following week found Selina carrying tea to Sam, who was still in the throes of the flu. She was walking past Elijah's door when he poked his head out. "I need to speak to you about something," he said, his voice low and urgent.

"I'm bringing Sam his tea," she said. "Can't it wait just a few seconds?"

Elijah growled in the back of his throat. "Oh, all right. But hurry. I won't wait all day."

She grinned in spite of herself. "Well, if it's so important, of course I won't make you wait." She winked and went to give Sam his tea, and then when she was on her way back down the hall, Elijah grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside, kissing her deeply.

"I thought you had to talk to me about something," Selina said when he pulled away. He put his finger over his lips. "Now is not the time for talking. Take off your clothes."

"What?" Selina asked. "In the middle of the day? Right here in the office? How daring of you!" She giggled and stripped obediently while he watched her and didn't move his eyes away from her body. She felt herself flushing.

"You gonna undress too?" She asked when she could finally get a word out.

"I can't seem to move," Elijah said. "You'll have to help me."

She slowly crossed the room and pulled off his t-shirt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Then, he pulled her to him and she looked over his shoulder, seeing that he'd already folded out the sofa bed. He must have planned this, but she wouldn't ruin the moment by pointing that out.

They fell back onto the mattress and rolled around. Elijah enjoyed her squeaks of pleasure as usual, but did his best to stem any shrieking, since he didn't want Sam in here to interrupt them again, because even if he was sick, he could still find a way. Elijah ran his hands over her body, rubbing her and then silencing her moans with a kiss. She ran her lips down his neck and over his abs, then they went lower and lower until he finally achieved the release he'd been waiting a week for.

"You get what you need?" Selina asked when they'd rolled off each other and were breathing hard.

"What makes you think I did this for me?" Elijah asked. "I did it because you've been overworking yourself and I wanted to give you a break."

Selina ran her fingers through his hair. "Oh, bullshit," she said. "You don't have to lie to me. I know I haven't exactly been available to you since Sam got here even though I promised I would be, and I'm sorry. If you ever feel left out, you can just tell me, though."

"I could," Elijah said thoughtfully. "But isn't this a much better way to get your attention?" He finished, a wicked gleam in his eye. He tried to kiss her and she turned her face away. "No, seriously," she said. "Have you been feeling left out this week?"

"Yes," he said. "Maybe a little."

She ran a hand over his arm. "Well, I don't blame you," she said. "I got a sick kid and a baby to take care of, and you're the picture of health, so naturally, it puts you third in line, although that is definitely not the way I'd have it if it were up to me." She groaned. "My god. All I need is four more men to depend on me, and I'd be Snow Freaking White. I've already got Drooley, Sneezy and Doc. Who else is left? I don't even know why I'm asking. I don't want to take care of any more people!"

"I know," Elijah said. "You should have people taking care of you. I'll try and get on Gregory's good side again, so you can have a break from him. I don't know what I did to make him stop liking me, though."

"It's because you won't blow bubbles for him," Selina said. "He likes bubbles for some reason."

"That's the whole problem?" Elijah asked.

"Pretty much," Selina nodded. "You can start feeling silly any time now."

"Well, I just thought that since he's my son as well as yours, he'd have more sophisticated interests, that's all," Elijah said. "Bubbles seemed so simplistic."

"He's a baby," Selina said. "He won't start liking sophisticated stuff for like, years. Let him be a kid first."

Elijah took her in his arms. "Well, all right," he said, kissing her as they fell back onto the mattress again. "If you say so."

As soon as he felt better, Lucy came to pick up Sam for school. "So, how do you like living with Mom?" Lucy asked him. "Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"She's very persistent, isn't she?" Sam asked. "I mean, I love her but she nags about everything! It's always 'eat something,' 'do your homework,' 'don't spend so much time in the shower'." Dad never nags about stuff like that."

"That's because you're a guy," Lucy said. "If you were me, it would be something like 'drink your milk', 'wake up in time for school', 'stop stealing the covers'."

"What was that last one?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Lucy said quickly. "The point is, that usually happens. You have an image in your head of what something will be like, in your case, living with Mom, and the reality isn't always as good as what you imagine."

"I'm sure it was good once," Sam said.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked.

"Did you know that there was a point in our lives where you and me lived with Dad and Mom?" Sam asked her.

Lucy nodded. "Yeah, I knew that. It was because Mom didn't want my dad to know that you weren't his kid, so she hid out with your dad and us until one day, your dad went up to my dad and let the cat out of the bag about you being his son, so Mom realized it would be pointless to hide and she took me back home. She meant to take you too, but made the mistake of telling your dad that he could have time to say goodbye to you, and that's when your dad took you and made a run for it."

"So Dad kidnapped me?" Sam asked. "And I was this close to living with Mom?"

"Well, technically, I guess he did kidnap you," Lucy said. "But it's not like he gave you a horrible life. You turned out all right, mostly."

"Thanks," Sam said sarcastically. "I just can't believe he would do that to me! What kind of a sick person kidnaps their own kid?"

"Don't be too hard on him," Lucy said. "Remember, he lost his first kid. Maybe he didn't want to have to go through the same thing with you, which is basically what would have happened, as my father would have only reluctantly let him into the house to see you if he let him in at all."

Sam nodded. "But it's my life!" He said. "I'm sorry he lost Joshua and that it was hard, but that doesn't give him the right to mess with me that way. Think of how I might have turned out if I'd have been allowed to grow up with Mom."

Lucy smirked. "You'd be wearing sweater vests and a pocket protector, probably," she said. "And that's not you! Just stop dwelling on what can't be changed and keep moving forward. You'll be happier that way."

"Maybe," Sam said. "And maybe not."

"What's the matter with you?" Lucy asked as Damon fell in the front door. "What's happened? Are you sick?"

"No," Damon said shakily. "I'm not sick. I've just had my heart and soul ripped out of me, thank you." He looked at her with unfocused, bloodshot eyes. "You know, you're pretty."

He walked unsteadily toward her and tried to kiss her, but she held him at arms' length when she smelled the alcohol on his breath. "You're drunk," she said. "We won't do anything tonight except get you cleaned up and to bed. Things will get better in the morning."

Damon blinked as she pulled him along after her and filled up the tub. "You'll have to undo my buttons," he said. "I can't."

She sighed. "Why did you do this to yourself?" She asked as she undid his buttons and threw his shirt in the hamper by the sink. Then she got off his pants and underwear and watched as he climbed into the tub. "Are you gonna be all right?" She asked him."

He shook his head. "I coud fall and hit my head," he said. "Or drown. You'll have to come in with me."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Even when you're drunk, you're incorrigible."

He grinned. "Especially when I'm drunk!"

She stripped and got in the bath with him, slowly washing him off with a loofah. "How does that feel?" Lucy asked. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," Damon said, slurring his words and leaning on her shoulder. "That's good." When she got down far enough, he started giggling. "That tickles!" He said, splashing her.

"Don't do that!" Lucy said. "That's not what we're in here for! After we've cleaned you up, you're going to bed!"

"Will you come with me?" Damon asked.

Lucy shook her head. "No, but if you cooperate with me, I'll send you a nice dream. How's that?"

"Fine," Damon said, his eyes going in and out of focus. There was silence in the tub for a moment before he said, "Sam doesn't love me anymore."

"What?" Lucy asked.

"So I was waiting around at home and he comes by and he says that I ruined his life, he hates me, and he doesn't want to see me again," Damon said. "He took a bunch of stuff, put it in his car and drove off."

"And you were so upset that you went and got drunk?" Lucy asked. "That's not the way to handle things."

"Stop yelling at me!" Damon said. "I just want to be alone!"

She helped him out of the tub and dried him off, then got him into pajamas and tucked him in. "Good night," she said. "Try to get some sleep, all right? Things will be okay, you'll see."

She left and Damon slept fitfully until he was eased into a dream hospital room, which was mysteriously smoky, and as he sat up, a dark figure in a nurse's uniform advanced toward him. "How are you feeling?" Lucy asked seductively. "Anything I can do you for?"

"I don't feel good," he said, grinning. She felt all over him. "You do seem ill," she said, slowly removing her outfit. "Maybe you need a little TLC." She climbed into bed with him and began kissing him furiously, all over his body. Then she got up on her knees and a blood bag suddenly appeared in her hand. She smeared some of the blood from the bag over her chest and leaned over him. "Hungry?" She asked, her voice husky. He leaned forward and began licking the blood off her bare chest as she ran her hand down him, but then, his hand hit a button on the bed control causing the bed to fold in half, and that's when Damon abruptly woke up from the dream, and had to work really hard to fall asleep again.

Lucy woke him up the next morning. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

He winced. "Hungover. Very, very hungover."

She came closer to him. "I figured that. So I brought you coffee, aspirin, and some toast for your breakfast." She eyed his pathetic figure. "Is this why you told me I'm not allowed to drink?"

Damon scoffed as he down the aspirin. "Hell, no. In five years, you can drink all you want. But it won't end well for you. Hangovers suck and they happen every time."

"Not every time," Lucy said. "Just when you drink too much."

"Well, for me, that's all the time," Damon replied.

"Eat your toast," she commanded. "You need food in you. I'm not leaving for school until you do." She stood in front of him, her arms crossed, her expression severe.

"Oh, all right," he said and ate his toast. "Now you scurry on to school. We wouldn't want you to be late."

Lucy nodded. "You take care of yourself while I'm gone," she said, kissing his forehead. "And no more drinking, either. At least not for awhile."

"Yes, Mother," Damon said. He watched her go and then, with surprise, realized that he liked her taking care of him and wished he hadn't sent her away at all. That she really was more like Selina than he'd realized.

Selina...

He sank back down on his pillow, closed his eyes, and spent the day dreaming of Lucy's mother.

And those dreams stuck with him. So much so that when he and Lucy were in bed that night, he did something incredibly stupid. As they made love, he muttered Selina's name instead of Lucy's.

Lucy froze. "What did you just say?" She asked quietly. "You said my mother's name, didn't you?"

"I meant to say yours," Damon said quickly. "It was a mistake!" She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, getting off him and dressing. Then, she narrowed her eyes at him from the foot of the bed.

"You know," she said, "I try and I try, but even I have limits and I'm not gonna be with a guy who can't commit to me because he's still stuck on my mother! I thought I'd be able to get past that, but you've just been humoring me to get me into bed, haven't you? Well, you should feel real special, because now, not only do you not have Mom, you don't have me either!"

She turned to march out the door, leaving Damon alone in the silence.

The tiny community of Ashford hadn't had a murder since 1833 when Corky Robinson shot Bill Briley over a dispute about a cow. Their low crime rate was something they were extremely proud of. At least until recently. That was when some new folks had moved to town, two men and two women, and with them had come the killings. Drownings, stabbings and one strangulation now had all the residents on edge. They feared that they would be the killer's next victims, so no one left their houses anymore, especially not Marge and Harry Thatcher. They lived next door to the house where all the evil originated. The perp was a young woman about eighteen with long brown hair and strange, glowing dark blue eyes. She'd told the Thatchers that her name was Roxanne, but it couldn't be. That was the name of a normal person, not a villain.

"I wish she hadn't told us her name," Jim Robinson said over a beer at the tavern. "It makes killing her that much harder."

"But we have to," The sheriff said. "She's a menace."

"Are you sure you're not blaming her because she's different?" a voice asked. "Maybe none of these murders are her fault?"

Just then, the door to the bar opened and a girl with creepy dark eyes, long dark hair and pale skin approached the sheriff. "Tell me something," she said. "How many murders have you had here in the last month or so? Many more than ordinary?"

"Well, considering 'Ordinary' is zero, I'd say we have had more than ordinary," the sheriff nodded. "Why would you care?"

"My name is Mary Anne," she said. "And I believe I can catch the person responsible for all the killing and make this a peaceful town once again," she said. "Will you let me?"

The sheriff burst out laughing. "A slip of a thing like you? You've got to be joking with me."

She grabbed him by his collar. "Let me take care of this for you. Please."

"Okay," he said nervously. "Okay."

Just then, the young man who always spoke up for Roxanne went sprinting out of the bar and ran all the way down the street without pausing for a breath. "Roxie!" He said when he burst into the house. "You have to go! Mary Anne is here and she promised the sheriff she'd kill you!"

"Why?" Roxie asked. "I haven't done anything!"

"There have been murders all over town!" Vince said. "You haven't been conspicuous at all."

"I don't know who's been killing everyone," Roxie said. "But it sure as hell wasn't me."

"Let's go in any case," Vince said. "Please."

"Oh, all right." Roxie got up off the sofa, and went to her bedroom. Vince followed a few minutes later, but when he got to the room, Roxie was gone.

Roxie opened her eyes and found herself staring at two wide-eyed people. "Wow, Lenora," Lucy said. "She's here. You did it!"

"I told you I could!" Lenora said.

"How am I here?" Roxie asked, looking at Lucy with distaste. "What do you want?"

"I have a confession to make and you're the only person I think I can tell, but you have to promise not to tell Dad," Lucy said. "Because it will really piss him off if he finds out."

"Oooooh!" Roxie said, perking up. "What is it?"

"I'm not a virgin anymore," Lucy said after sending Lenora out of the room.

"Seriously?" Roxie said. "That's so cute. It's like hearing that a horny little baby took her first steps." Roxie hugged her. "I'm so proud of you! So who was it with? Was he hot? It wasn't a guy from the chess club or something, was it?"

"No," Lucy said. "It was Damon Salvatore. But it's a total waste because he's still stuck on Mom and I feel totally used, so I don't know what I'm going to do now."

"Oh, you poor kid," Roxie said, sitting down next to her.

"Remember, you promised you wouldn't tell Dad," Lucy said.

"Oh, I remember," Roxie said. "I promise I won't tell Dad."

But behind her back, her fingers were crossed.