Sorry it took me awhile to update...i was distracted i guess. :) anyway! on with the story!

disclaimer: i own nothing.

"Kyle No! Don't do that! Get back here! Stop scaring little Lizzie and Monica!"

A woman with short dark hair cried out, her eyes on a little boy no more than four years old chasing a pair of girls with a worm in his hand.

"Leave him be Sarah," Jim Valenti, Sarah's husband of 4 years shook his head.

She sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward before turning to the married couple next to her with a small forced smile, "I apologize for my son, he's not used to hearing the word 'no'."

Jeff Parker chuckled, "It's alright."
"As they say boys will be boys," Nancy Parker smirked, "I know Jeff suffers of the same affliction. Besides it looks like our oldest is having the time of her life."
Jim slyly locked eyes with Jeff, a knowing smirk on their faces. The men often got together, with their wives and children as well as without, and had plenty of time to talk about the apparent friendship that had sprung up from the moment his son and Jeff's oldest daughter met while still in diapers.

Over the years the two had grown thick as thieves, even going as far as to have their secretive language, freezing little Lizzie and Alex Whitmen for a brief time.

Jim and Jeff both could admit, if only in each others presence that the idea of becoming family later on in the future was something they looked forward too.

"Jeffrey Parker wipe that smirk off your face," his wife glared up at him, a knowing glint in her eyes, "stop planning her future."
Jeff shrugged before looking out at the children, not rising to the bait his wife was dangling in front of him.

Nancy had firmly stated her opinion of Monica's special gifts, asking her husband to stop pushing the little girl to be better, to be perfect. The mother of two feared that such pressure on such a young child would lead to problems in her character and wasn't what the adoption agency had in mind for the little baby they'd placed in their care. Jeff was of the opinion that Monica could be perfect, could be the best of the best, if she stayed focused. In the end the couple agreed to disagree, they'd had the same argument multiple times.

"Kyle, it's time to go," Jim called out, feeling the tension in his friends.

The little boy in question dropped what he was holding to hug the smallest little girl and giving the other a cheerful wave from afar before dashing for his parents.

Monica shivered.

The seven year old (seven in a half, Monica would always pout at her mother for forgetting the half part) was scared. And cold.

She remembered days ago her daddy telling her to pack a bag of clothes and her toothbrush, at the time she'd been excited. A sleepover was a rare occurrence in the Parker household.

Monica remembered thinking whether said sleepover would be at the Valenti household, her little heart had hoped so. Ever since Kyle's mommy, Auntie Sarah, had left her best friend (brother, they told Jim sporting identical affectionate smiles, simultaneously dashing the mans dreams of calling Monica 'daughter-in-law'(not that they knew that)) hadn't been the same. He'd needed constant reassurance that she would not abandon him as well.

"Ready daddy," she remembered smiling big, feeling proud that she had done what he had asked so quickly, "Am I staying with Ky?"

Her father had brought in older man in a sharp suit instead, a man she recognized.

Monica shivered, putting the image of Mr. Manners in her doorway at the back of her mind. The man was always taking her for a day to do tests and things she didn't remember because they put her to sleep.

Monica whimpered, 'I've never stayed this long before'.

They'd ran more tests than before, she was sure of it, she'd managed to keep count despite the black spot in her memory. Her tally was up around the 143 now.

She wondered what her mommy was doing, if she was fighting with daddy again because she never told mommy where they took her or what they did. Was her mommy even fighting for he? Monica frowned at that thought.

Sadness and abandonment pinched at her heart, would her mommy really fight for her if she had told her what she wanted to know?

Monica tightened the flimsy blanket around herself.

She didn't particularly know why she couldn't bring herself to give her mother the answers. She only knew that she couldn't, couldn't tell Kyle either.

Kyle.

Monica stifled the panic that threatened to choke her at the thought of Kyle again.

How was he doing? Did he miss her? Did he tell Uncle Jim about the bad feeling he always got when she was gone?

The door opened softly. A woman with dark brown hair in a tight bun and equally dark brown eyes stood in the doorway, the light behind her giving her a deceptively angelic look. The smile on her face didn't reach her eyes and reminded Monica of snake, cold blooded and ready to strike at the first sign of weakness.

Monica wanted to scoff at the woman, hadn't they understood from the many tests given to her that she was not stupid?

"Hello Miss. Parker, I'm Lilah Morgan," her voice soft as she introduced her self.

Monica wanted to ask the her for help only stopping herself because despite the fact that the woman standing in front of her had made it sound like they'd never met up until this point Monica remembered that she had in fact met her before.

The hair and the clothes were always different, different colors that sometimes didn't make sense but it was her eyes that gave her away.

Monica always stopped herself from asking for help after the first time three years ago, the lady's words still clear to her even now. "But Miss Parker, we are helping you."

"Jeff, you can't keep doing this," Nancy managed to choke out, her eyes watering with unshed tears.

The man before her paced angrily, "Mr. Manners assures me these tests are necessary Nancy, they're paying us good money just to run some tests."
Her shoulders trembled just a bit at the tight expression on his face, "she's a little girl Jeffrey. She needs to be home, acting like the child you refuse to let her be. Liz has been asking for her, Jim says Kyle's gone practically catatonic because he hasn't seen Monica in so long."

"They'll see her when Monica has done what she can for this family," Jeffrey bit out, shoving the guilt that threatened to surface at the mention of Kyle and Jim, his hands folded across his chest, "the diner barely makes enough to feed us. What about clothes for the girls? Or if one of them gets hurt and we need to take them to the hospital, we need this Nancy."

"She's just a child Jeffrey! It's our job as her parents to provide for her!" she couldn't help but scream at the man before her. Nancy had come home a week prior to find Monica gone and her husband on the phone discussing how long their little girl would be staying where ever it was that he had sent her. It saddened her to realize how much sense her husband was making, Nancy bit the inside of her cheek as guilt rolled around in her stomach. Two weeks and Monica wasn't home yet, she noted that this had been the longest amount of time her oldest daughter had been away from home, fear spiked through her heart as various possibilities ran through her mind.

"Bring her home," she glared, her fists clenching and unclenching at her side.

A cold silence followed until the man shrugged indifferently, "Monica's on her way as we speak, she'll be home before 8 o' clock tonight."
Nancy visibly relaxed, "good," she cleared her throat heading for the kitchen, "I'll start preparing dinner then."

From behind her bedroom door six year old Liz Parker brightened, racing to finish the little home work she did have so that when Monica arrived she'd have her full attention.

"Any spell we've managed to put on her has backfired and gone awry, the coven up in Fresno are clamoring for one on one time with this girl," Lilah reported, standing tall and confident in front of her superior Mr. Holland Manners.

Her statement was greeted with silence, evident that the news did not please his superiors at all.

"It is my suggestion that Monica Parker be released into the custody of her adopted parents until puberty," she was fairly confident that they would accept the suggestion. "I've consulted the varies oracles we have in the firm and I was informed the girl would be of use once she has become a young lady."

The girl was fairly useless to the firm at the tender age of four, had it not been for the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart (the senior partners) collectively agreeing how important it was to corrupt the innocent girl, Lilah knew Monica wouldn't be seeing the light of day.

Lindsay had been the one to find little Miss Monica Parker, had noted her blood linage in a private meeting with the senior partners and mentioned perhaps molding her into a weapon that would fight for the firm. Considering it was her sister the oracles prophesized would be 'The Slayer'.

At the time Lilah had scoffed at the idea of training a child for their purpose, so what if she was the illegitimate sister of the to-be- slayer Buffy Anne Summers and Faith Cavanaugh. Despite the words of the oracles, Lilah banked on statistics that the blond would not survive long enough in her new role to become a significant problem for Wolfram & Hart.

That was, of course before she had met the little girl, barely four years old and too smart for her own good.

"Tell me Ms. Morgan when will the girl be joining us again," Mr. Manners asked, perfectly calm and accepting of the news.

"When she turns twelve sir," Lilah answered quickly, nerves escaping her mask of confidence.

"Very well," her boss nodded, "have Lindsay take her home. I'm sure she will be more receptive to Mr. McDonald, he's the only one she hasn't met."

Lilah nodded, turning around to go and find the other associate that was probably in the cafeteria again looking for something to snack on instead of working on his latest case against Mr. Russell Winters.

"oh and Lilah," Mr. Manners called out, "make him look like a hero."

Monica found herself alone again, fighting off exhaustion.

It had been days since she'd slept, not wanting to give Mr. Manners or Ms. Morgan a chance to sneak up on her at her weakest.

Through the fog that was clouding her mind she heard bangs and screams coming from behind the locked door.

Despite her exhaustion her eyes widened as fear and adrenaline sent her heart racing.

More bangs and screams followed.

She scuttled around the bed wondering where in the world she could possibly hide.

The little narrow twin bed and thin blanket wouldn't be enough for her to hide beneath the bed, and the bathroom with no door offered no protection at all.

She settled for the corner, her back pressed up against the wall, her thin arms around her knees.

Her door shuttered as something banged against it.

Trembling Monica hid her face in the crook of her arm.

Another bang later and the door gave in, slamming against the wall.

"hey, hey are you okay?"

Monica looked up to put a face to that shocked and worried voice and found herself looking into blue eyes in a tan face, brown hair disheveled. The man before her was in jeans and a black t-shirt wearing a leather jacket. Monica blinked in surprise. The man didn't look like anyone she'd seen in her time there. .

"Are you Monica Parker?"

The man asked her, sounding both anxious and in a rush.

Monica nodded, little tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"Good, that's good," he reached forward to pick her up and cradle her against his chest, "Your mom sent me okay, I need you to hold on to me."

Monica wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good girl, now hold on real tight okay," he rubbed circles into her back like her mommy did when she was sick, "they're not going to let me take you so you have to promise to hold on tight okay."
She gave a weak nod indicating that she'd heard him loud and clear, her arms tightened and her legs circled his chest.

"That's a good girl," he murmured bringing up a gun as he stepped out into the lit corridor that was littered with blood and bodies in suits. Men working for Mr. Manners, Monica's mind supplied.

Her hero started running, carefully looking around the corners before taking them.

Monica's eyes started to close as the adrenaline started to fade and relief flooded her body.

There was the sound of breaking glass and more screaming, the sound of gunfire close to her ears.

It was all over so fast.

Monica could feel the sun on her dirty skin, the fresh air rustling her greasy hair. Freedom. Her heart jumped with joy.

Her eyes closed and her breath evened out, sleep slowly claiming her now that she was safe.

Far away she felt a cold thin hand on her back, and soft voice, "we'll see you on your twelve birthday Miss. Parker."

It was the last thing Monica heard, fear at the edge of her consciousness before oblivion.

Monica awoke to the words ringing in her ear, anxiety making her spine tingle. She looked around her dark room seeing nothing that would scare her she settled back under the covers content with the fact that there was nowhere for monsters to hide in her room.

Behind her closed eyelids she saw the face of a woman.

Her dark hair pulled in a bun and eyes like a snake, "we'll see you on your twelve birthday Miss. Parker."
Monica blinked rapidly, her heart racing.

Who was that?

Why did that lady scare her so much?

What did she mean?

Monica hugged one of her pillows to her chest, feeling as if she was missing something but not knowing what it was.

"Moni," the sleepy murmur of her little sister reached her ears, "you okay?"
Monica looked across the room and nodded, "bad dream."

"m'kay," Liz hugged her stuffed bunny, "happy your home now Moni."

She frowned, she'd been home everyday for two weeks. Sick with a really bad case of the flu, no seeing Kyle or anybody else but Lizzie, mommy and daddy.

Shaking her head she smiled, her sister was weird.

Icing the chocolate sheet cake Nancy glanced over her shoulder at her youngest daughter as she launched herself around the living room in her bright pink tutu and a fake wand in her hand.

Nancy smiled at the sight.

Monica's birthday was tomorrow and she knew Liz was going crazy with anticipation.

Nancy licked the spoon she was using to spread the fudge frosting, her mind drifting to three years ago.

Her daughter in the arms of a smartly dressed lawyer by the name of Lindsay McDonald, how he'd laid her down and tucked her in and then explained the accident she'd had on the way out of the Wolfram & Hart law firm.

How her daughter had some form of amnesia, the doctors were positive her memory would not return and had advised the lawyer not to pressure her into remembering.

As a mother Nancy had speculated how convenient it had been for her daughter to loose the time of she'd been away from home in the law firm's care.

Nancy shook her head, putting such thoughts behind her as Liz charged into the room and started firing off questions.

Liz was a precocious child, and had started to notice the differences between her sister and herself.

Like the way Monica's eyes were green rimmed with gold, and how her hair was a difference shade of brown.

Why was her skin lighter than her own, and why didn't they look alike. Or why Monica didn't look like daddy or mommy.

Liz asked question after question, overwhelming Nancy.

The woman stopped in her cake decorating and looked down, her daughters wide enquiring eyes staring back at her, "ask your father."
Immediately Liz smiled wide and took off to find Jeffrey, Nancy felt a flash of guilt before suppressing it.

Since their last meeting with a representative of Wolfram & Hart her husband had practically wiped his hands of Monica, preferring to deal with Liz and showering her with affection and attention he denied their adopted daughter.

The slow shuffle of feet reached her ears before she saw Liz again, her small shoulders hunched and her head bowed.

"What's wrong sweetie?"
Nancy smiled as she placed the cake in the fridge.

"Moni's not my real sissy," her little girl murmured, looking lost.

Nancy shivered, mentally cursed her husband for revealing such news to their youngest on the eve of Monica's birthday. Where had the man that vowed to take care of Monica before they adopted her, gone?
Sighing she wiped her hands on a rag and led Liz to the sofa, grateful that Monica was spending her free time with Kyle.

"She's still your sister," Nancy could feel the beginning of a Texas sized headache, "She didn't come from my tummy like you did but she still your sister. Your daddy and I love her like we love you."

Liz looked down at her hands, "daddy said he doesn't love her, that she's a freak."

"Your daddy's wrong," Nancy snapped, her hands clenching into fists, "Monica's special just like your special. I don't ever want to hear what your daddy said coming from your mouth again do you hear me Elizabeth Parker."

Immediately she nodded, not at all liking that her daddy had said something mean about her sissy.

"Good," Nancy relaxed against the sofa, "now go change Amy's coming to pick you up."

Liz squealed happily before darting to her room.

"Look what I found Nikki," Kyle cried out as he rubbed the dirt off of the chipped stone that looked like a triangle.

Monica looked up from her own pile of dirt, she'd convinced Kyle to help her look for gold right outside their secret home base.

"What is it?"

Kyle shrugged as he looked it over, "Dunno."

Now thoroughly intrigued Monica stood up and made her way to her best friend, "Lemme see."

He handed her the slat stone, careful with the corners cause they were sharp.

Monica looked it over, her little fingers running over the grooves of the stone, "maybe Daddy Jim will know?"

Kyle nodded happily as he held out the basket they took from his house, "you find anything?"

She shook her head, "nothing cool. An old quarter and an old coca cola bottle cap I think."

"Oh," he went back to digging with his small shovel, "keep looking right Nikki."

"Right Ky," she cried out determined now to find something cool too.

That's how Jim found them.

Both kneeling over holes they'd dug piles of sifted dirt all around them and a basket that looked suspiciously like the one they had in their kitchen, the one he put all the apples in.

"What in the heck are y'all doing?"

The pair jumped a bit, both looking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

He placed his hands on his hips, eyes narrowing under his Sheriff's hat.

"nuthin."

They cried out together, dropping the little trowels they had in their hands.

"Don't look like nothing to me."
Kyle cringed, looking away while inching his way to the basket and closer to Monica.

"told you we shouldna told daddy jim about our secret hide out," Monica mumbled loud enough for only Kyle to hear.

He refrained from nodding in agreement, they were in enough trouble no need to get into more just because they didn't know how to be quiet.

"I'm waitin' here," Jim crossed his arms over his chest when he realized the intimidating sheriff look didn't work on them.

Monica pouted, "just looking for treasure daddy Jim."
The old man softened hearing her call him daddy, reminding him of how important he was to her to have earned such a title. A title that should have remained with the man he'd considered a friend once.

Kyle locked eyes with Monica, sharing a sly smile. They were off the hook, sort of.

"Geez louis, look at both a you," Jim shook his head, he had the distinct feeling that he'd just been played but let it go.

"Come on, lets go," Jim turned around heading back for the car, he knew they'd follow.

Monica brushed her pants and her shirt uselessly, dirt smudges ever present on her clothes, her arms and her face.

She waited for Kyle to do the same, before they held hands and followed behind Jim.

They caught up enough to hear Jim talking into the radio in the car, telling whoever was at the desk that he was off duty.

Buckling themselves in Kyle and Monica giggled as Jim started his lecture about staying away from hazardous material and the shower they were going to take as soon as they got home.

"Good thing your sleeping over huh Monica," he smiled.

"Yes sir," happy that she wasn't going home Monica settled against Kyle, a pleasant smile on her face.

Monica fidgeted, the dress her mother had put on her was itchy, glittery and yellow. Not at all her favorite color. Which is why when Kyle stepped into the room she was supposed to be sharing with Liz, he laughed. Monica's cheeks flushed pink and she glared at her pseudo-brother.

"This isn't funny Ky," she grumbled, her hands falling to her side and getting lost in the pockets of the dresses skirt.

The only cool thing about the dress, Monica had stated was the fact that she had pockets.

"Doesn't auntie Nancy know you don't like yellow?" he stepped closer, eager to keep her mind on what she was wearing and not on what he was.

She scoffed, her eyes on the headband in her hair, it was light blue and glittery. The only thing she had a say on.

"She knows," she stepped away from the mirror no longer wanting to see the dress she'd been forced to wear.

"Hm," Kyle looked away his hands holding the gift bag, "it'll be over soon Nikki, and when it is I'll ask auntie Nancy to see if you can sleep over again."

Monica smiled prettily, loving the idea of another sleep over, "okiedokie Ky."
He smiled leading her out of the room and down to the diner where everybody was.

"Why are you dressed like a cowboy Ky?"

HE groaned, "dad made me."

"oh," Monica sympathized.

"yeah," he grumbled as he held the swinging doors open for her to pass.

All the kids from Kyle and Lizzie's class were there, despite the fact that Monica was not in their grade she still made friends with the people her own age.

Monica had insisted the Evans twins be invited as well as Michael Guerin.

As everyone gathered to play birthday games, Kyle nudged Monica to join them as well. Knowing that though she had invited everyone she was still shy around other people.

Monica smiled as she was paired with the Isabel Evans, the pretty blond that had the tendency to stick to her twin brother and his best friend.

"Hi," Monica held onto her hand as Mrs. Evans tied her right leg to Isabel's left, "are you having fun?"

Isabel nodded her head, giving her a hesitant smile, "thank you for inviting me and my brothers."

Brothers?

Monica nodded a confused frown on her face, "Michaels your brother too?"

Right before her eyes the blonde girl went stoic, Monica rushed to fix the possible friendship she could have with this girl, "it's okay, I call Kyle my brother too."

Monica looked down at her feet before looking up and seeing that Kyle had been paired with Max, both boys had an uncomfortable look on their faces.

"We tell each other everything," she continued as Alex was tied to some boy with blonde hair, "he's my brother from another mother," she giggled softly, "its cool if Michaels your brother from another mother too."

Isabel softened, "that's cool right?"

"Right," Monica smiled reassuringly, "Kyle says I'm his sister from another mister, so maybe Michael can call you that."

Nancy started explaining the rules, cutting off any conversation they may have had.

With a blow of the whistle the race started.

Monica giggled as they walked funny, while Isabel urged her to go faster wanting to beat both of her brothers.

Monica settled down in the chair her mommy had made to look like a thrown.

Kyle on her right side and Liz on her left, the seats around the square table filled with kids who were eager for cake.

Outside the stars twinkled as Nancy brought out a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, the candles placed prettily on the cake.

Monica scooted back letting her mother light the candles, smiling wide as someone turned off the lights.

"Okay everybody, on three….one…two…three."

"Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday dear Monica!

Happy birthday to you!"

Everybody was smiling at her as she looked past the candles to where her mother was standing with a camera at the ready.

Closing her eyes she wished for the first thing that came to mind.

'Liam,' a name drifted through her mind.

Love and admiration, bloomed in her heart. Clear to her more than anything she'd ever felt before, rivaling the affection she held for Kyle. In her minds eye she could see a tall man with brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail with dark brown eyes, the clothes he wore wasn't like any she'd seen before. The loving smile on his face made the sparkle of mischief in his eyes stand out, Monica couldn't remember anyone looking at her like that before.

'Protector,' her mind supplied, connecting the word to the name, 'brother.'

Monica opened her eyes. For a moment before the little flames were fully extinguished she saw Liam, in the corner of the room looking at her with hate burning in his dark brown eyes and a cruel smile stretching his lips.

As Liz and everyone else giggled and screamed playfully in the dark, her chest swelled with unnatural fear.

Of him.

The lights were turned back on.

Her mommy coming to her side to cut the cake, despite the confusion she felt she smiled bravely. Her hand automatically going to Kyle's under the table and squeezing until the fear started to ebb away, Kyle squeezed back feeling her uneasy. Both unaware of the glances Michael was throwing their way, or the unsettled looks he'd throw at the corner where the ghost of an evil man had been standing.

Monica whimpered, her eyes slamming open. In her hands she clutched one of Kyle pillows, she'd seen him again. Playing with her, teaching her how to ride a horse, and then killing her in the doorway of a kitchen.

"Whass'at," Kyle mumbled, blinking slowly as he looked at Monica's shaking form, "Nikki? Whas wrong?"
"I saw him again Ky," she confessed spilling everything she felt and seen since she'd blown out the candles on her cake.

"Shhh," he rubbed circles into her back, "we'll look for him. Promise okay Nikki."
"okay," she mumbled cozying up to him so he'd wake her if she had another bad dream.

Isabel Evans looked out into the field, her eyes falling on the little girl that had invited her to her birthday a while ago.

"Who are you lookin' at Izzy?"
Michael Guerin stepped up beside her, trying to see what she was looking at so intently.

"Monica Parker," she pointed out the arm's that was pointing up at the sky, "and Kyle Valenti."

He grunted, his eyes narrowing, "don't talk to her Izzy, she's got something evil looking over her."

She wanted to scoff and pout, the first girl to ever want to be friends with her and her brother didn't approve.

"Michael says he saw an evil man looking at her Izzy," her soft spoken twin brother mumbled, "can't trust anyone but us Isabel. We promised remember."

Isabel nodded, turning her back on the girl that could have been her best friend and forgot her.

"Well hello Monica Lynn," the middle aged woman behind the desk greeted her.

"Hi," she smiled up at the librarian, accentuating the dark circles around her haunted eyes.

Mrs. Holden smiled, "what are we looking for today?"

Monica looked around, Kyle would be here in a minute, thinking about where they'd left of she nodded, "yesterday we finished looking at the last of the 17th century right? Um then we start on the 18th century today."
Monica squared her shoulders, positive that she was making the right decision to continue her search.

Debra Holden walked ahead of her leading her to the far corner of the library, "we don't have much on 18th century Ireland, after the 1947 accident so many people decided to voice their conspiracy theories and publish them. A lot of space is taken up by such books, everything else that we couldn't fit ended up down here."
She stopped at a door opening it to reveal a well lit staircase, "it's our basement. We have news articles chronicled down here as well. You'll find what you need in row three I believe."
Mrs. Holden turned to walk away.

"When Kyle Valenti gets here can you send him down? Please," she called out, her voice just above a whisper.

"Of course dear," the woman smiled.

"Thank you," Monica smiled remembering her manners.

"Your welcome dear, oh and happy birthday Miss. Parker."
Monica marched down the stairs, happy that she got to spend her eleventh birthday the way she wanted.

Jim stopped stirring the pot of chile long enough to look back into the living room to see his son whisper into Monica's ear, holding out a book for her to look at.

He didn't mind having the little girl over, he turned back to the stove top. He was just worried.

Another year had gone and passed, he carefully pulled out the frozen biscuits ever mindful not to bump into the ice cream cake he'd hidden in the freezer. Jim popped open the oven and slid a tray of frozen biscuits into the heat.

Little Monica Parker had practically moved into the Valenti house, calling it home and refusing to spend more than two days with her actual family. Not that Jim minded, he didn't. The sheriff made note that Jeffrey Parker didn't mind either.

What worried him though, he sighed as he looked back at the pair on the living room floor surrounded by books, was the dark circles under her eyes. And the nightmares that she had, the ones that scared him when she cried in his arms spilling her dreams like an over turned can of beans.

Dreams about a cold room, and black spots in her memory, of an old man called Manners and a lady called Morgan and so many other things that made his blood go cold.

He had never wanted to punch Jeffrey Parker more than in that moment when he realized Monica was remembering the many visits away from home.

Jim knew Kyle was passing down every tidbit he could remember from his brief stint in the Boy Scouts, even going as far as asking him to teach both of them self defense just in case.

Right before his eyes his son was growing up into a man, protecting Monica from taunts at the middle school where she was now going to 8th grade. Even going so far as to punch some kid in his grade for bad mouthing 'Nikki.'

Jim frowned, he had mixed feelings about that punch.

His son was growing up into a better man than he ever was, for that Jim pulled out the tray of done biscuits, he was grateful.

"Dinners done," he called out.

"I can't say here anymore Ky," Monica said again as she stuffed clothes into the black duffel bag.

She moved around her stunned best friend, grabbing the photo album that meant so much to her and stuffing that into the bag too, staying active so that he wouldn't notice the pain in her eyes.

"It's your birthday can't you wait till the weekend to go?"
Kyle grumbled, his eyes following her movements around the room that wasn't really her room, it hadn't been since she was ten.

"You know if I stay I won't ever leave, and I really really need to leave Roswell Kyle," she turned around her hair in disarray making her look slightly crazy, the glasses didn't help much either.

Kyle sighed knowing she was right, she was always right, "fine. But you have to promise me that you'll find a way to write to me, or call me."
Monica stuffed another pair of shoes into the bag, she huffed before reaching out with her pinky, "I pinky promise that I will find a way to reach you Ky."
Feeling slightly better about what he was helping her do he stood up, "well alrighty then, you'll need food and a first aid kit. Just in case."

"I know," she smiled fondly at her best friend as he marched out the door and went looking for said items in the Parker household. Monica took the time to look around, the room was Liz's now. After two years of sporadically spending a night or two in the apartment above the Crashdown her stuff had pretty much dwindled down to the dresser filled with new clothes and little knickknacks that held special meaning for her.

Monica flinched as Kyle stubbed his toe on the coffee table in the living room, briefly she wondered if not telling him about the fight she'd had with Liz and the news she'd revealed was really a good idea or not.

She'd managed to get her hands on the adoption papers alone, track down her biological mother alone and prepared herself as best as she could for what she would find, alone.

Monica searched the many pockets for the letter she had written for Jim and Kyle, she pressed the letter till it wasn't rumpled anymore. She hadn't written anything for the Parkers, still somewhat angry that they had failed to protect and love her like a real daughter. And forget about leaving anything to Liz, the words her not-sister had hurled at her still hurt, still made her eyes water.

"Found some bread and a jar of peanut butter and jam, you'll have to take a plastic spoon or two so you can scoop the stuff out," he arranged them in the duffel, along with a small first aid kit.

Kyle waited for her full attention before handing her a piggy bank she recognized very well, "Ky I don't want your piggy bank."
He shrugged before stuffing it into the duffel bag and zipping it up, "you'll need it."

At a loss for words Monica nodded, tears gathering at the edge of here eyes, "I'm gonna miss you Kyle Valenti."

"Not as much as I'll miss you," he managed to say before the stone in his throat got to big, he wrapped his arms around her in a big bear hug.

Downstairs they heard the tell tale signs of the Parkers coming home.

"Got everything," Kyle let go bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears.

Monica nodded, she'd taken all the pictures that had her in them and everything that was more or else hers, "lets go."

They climbed out using the window and the ladder that led down to the alley behind the diner, at a jog they managed to make it to the grey hound station where there was a ticket waiting for her.

"I have to go," Kyle shuffled his feet, not wanting to leave until she was on the bus, "they'll call dad soon and he'll wonder where I'm at so."

"I know," Monica clutched the strap of the duffel to her chest.

"Here," Kyle pulled out a bundle of string and the arrowhead they'd found right out side their secret hide out, "I made it for you. Well dad helped too."

He held it up, little turquoise beads on either side of the dark stone arrowhead.

"It's pretty Ky," she mumbled her eyes watering, her own hands finding the necklace in her pocket, the one she'd made out of the old coca cola bottle cap she'd found.

"it's a bracelet," he tied it around her right wrist, making sure that the knot was secure.

"You really are the twin to my soul," she crowed playfully blinking back tears as she pulled out the necklace, "I made you this one, I know its not as cool but its so you don't forget me."

Kyle smirked, she had never found the gold she was sure was buried in the junkyard, "it's still cool Nikki."

"See you before you know it Ky," Monica called out as he started to jog back home.

"I know!"
He called back.

Kathryn kept her arms crossed, her face wiped of any thing that would give her away.

Occasionally her eyes would flick to Spike who was leaning casually in the doorway, soft eyes and smirk on his face contrasting nicely.

His expression gave her a small sense of relief from the tension she carried in her arms.

Beside her Connor was just as cautious, his hair damp from the shower.

Standing before the pair Angel was glaring. His gaze flickering between the two, making note of the impassive look on their faces and knowing that at any moment one of them would cave. Be it voluntary or involuntary, one would cave, Angel knew it.

The only person missing from the room was Charles Gunn. Kathryn forced herself not to scowl. The man had fled the room as soon as Connor stepped out of the bathroom, calling over his shoulder that he was hungry and going to the little diner Wes had told him about.

Kathryn would have laughed, she really would have had Angel not broken the doorknob and the door wrenched open just as Gunn slammed the front door shut. The stern look on his face had cut off any laughter she felt bubbling up in her throat.

"Someone tell me," his voice soft and dark, "why do I spell demon blood in this room."
Kathryn was of the opinion that she really preferred it when he yelled, she had learned that this tone was the one that sent cold shivers down her spine. Reminding her too much of a time long passed and he'd crooned to her from the doorway asking that she invite him in.

Beside her Connor's hand gave a small twitch.

The normally brooding vampire forced down the smirk he felt trying to turn the corners of his lips.

With a stealth he never knew he possessed Kyle snuck past the school librarian, his focus on the brooding Czechoslovakian that had walked in moments before him.

The man behind the desk never once looked up.

Kyle gave a mental fist pump, at once the theme song for mission impossible began.

So caught up in acting like the spy he was not Kyle failed to realize that Michael had stepped out, a triumphant smirk on his face.

After going over the entire small library Kyle questioned whether or not he'd seen sasquatch really enter said library.

"He left."

Kyle spun around and found himself facing the librarian he thought hadn't noticed him.

The man before him wasn't anything like Mrs. Holden, the librarian who over saw the Roswell City Library with a firm hand, gentle smile and sparkling grandmotherly eyes.

"Oh," Kyle edged his way around him, "okay. Thanks."
With those words Kyle sped out, heading for the cafeteria.

Forcing himself to forget that he'd remembered a facet of his childhood. One that was an open wound much like the issue of his mother was to him.

He forced the thought to end before it continued down the road Kyle knew he was not ready for.

As he entered the cafeteria his eyes landed on the table that the pod squad was sitting at, not surprised that Michael was sitting with them as if he'd been there the whole time.

Kyle gave him a look before heading for his own table with the rest of his teammates, peace with the little green men was not happening today.

Not here anyway, Kyle thought as he took a seat and laughed at the joke someone had said.

Kathryn hummed to her self as she laid back, her arms up as her fingers danced over the faded turquoise beads and the arrowhead that was still tied to her right wrist.

So many bad memories, but so much good too, Kathryn huffed as she leaned on her elbows to look out across the town spread out before her.

The sun was at its highest peak, the dry heat making it uncomfortable to move.

Kathryn found herself on the roof once more this time with Connor by her side.

They'd managed to get out from under Angel's thumb in the middle of his…interrogation, with the help of Spike who had stepped in more to annoy his grandsire than to help.

"I forgot to ask," Kathryn smiled, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "how did that date go?"

Connor shifted in his seat, "she's crazy."

Kathryn chuckled, "a good crazy or a bad-oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-I-went-out-with-this psycho kind of crazy. Cause let me tell you there's a difference. A big difference."

"Ah," he thought about the nice restaurant he'd taken her to, the food had been great and the service excellent. The walk down main street had been nice as well, Connor had to admit it was a good date strategy. Until she'd started talking and going into detail about her ex-boyfriend who, according to Maria would never have taken her to such a nice place.
"Maria wasn't a good crazy and I wouldn't go as far as to call her psycho. More high school scorned hippie bat shit crazy," Connor gave a sharp nod, more to himself that yes that title fit the pixie blonde perfectly.

Kathryn snorted at the imagery, the description almost sounded like the Deluca she'd known before leaving. Almost.

"That bad huh," Kathryn smirked, offering him no sympathy.

Connor grunted, "yeah."

She shook her head, "could have told you that you weren't ready for her brand of crazy. But man watching you ask her out had been painful. Figured I could wait till after the date, depending how it went of course."

"You know her?"

"I used to," she said nonchalantly, the thought about her childhood still upsetting but not as much as it had been when she was in her previous living place. Kathryn refused to call it her childhood home, preferring to think of the house on Revello Dr. and the small bungalow house with the faded paint as her childhood home(s) instead.

"Why didn't you say hi?"

Questions started to form as he processed what she was saying, his mind going through several scenarios as to why she hadn't.

"Because I never liked her," Kathryn scoffed at the thought of actually saying hi to the girl.

"Oh," the scenarios stopped at her statement, it made a lot of sense, "Maria didn't recognize you did she?"

The young slayer tilted her head thinking it over.

It had been obvious that no one recognized her, "No she didn't."

"Oh come on Kathryn," Connor practically whined, " don't be cryptic. I've had enough to last me a lifetime, just explain to me why."

Slamming his locker closed Kyle restrained himself from stomping to his last class. Ever since the thought of Mrs. Holden he'd been fighting off memories.

Past memories of the only person who had been there for him when his mother had left.

Kyle hated her for leaving, for her selfishness.

Had understood it, but still hated it.

Kyle had told her as much, but he'd helped her anyway. Told her what not to do, how to be careful and gave her every useful tip he learned from his father so that she would be okay without him there.

His steps faltered, his heart thumped painfully in his chest.

I still miss you Nikki,' Kyle thought unhappily as he took his seat. Right on the teachers desk stood a clay sculpture, one he had made. It was of two small hands, one holding the other as if for dear life while the other slowly let go. Kyle could remember the moment he'd presented it to the class, the swell of pride and the pain beneath.

Kathryn brushed him off, "another time okay, promise."

Connor grumbled , "fine."

Unbidden her eyes landed on the building she knew housed the Sheriffs Department. Reminding her of the man who was like a father to her, and of his son who had meant so much to her.

Her pseudo-brother.

Kathryn knew she wouldn't have gotten far had Kyle not helped her the way that he did, despite his misgivings.

Standing up abruptly Kathryn headed back down to her room, an idea firmly implanted in her mind.

She changed into light colored jean shorts and a white v-neck shirt she knew was not hers but fit her so well, her feet sliding into a pair of brown cowboy boots that she'd gotten a year ago on sale because they'd reminded her of Kyle and Daddy Jim.

Kathryn never stopped moving, knowing that if she stopped she wouldn't go through with it at all.

She supposed that's why it was such a shock to her when she found herself outside of the Valenti house, her hand curled into a fist and ready to knock on the door before her.

Holy hell,' Kathryn jumped back, walking backwards till she was on the sidewalk again. Logic screamed that this was a stupid idea, especially when she was working and even more so when she knew she wouldn't be staying longer than was needed.

The loud thumping of her heart in her ears drowned out the sound of someone approaching.

"Hey uh can I help you with something?"

Kathryn spun around her hair flying as she found herself looking into familiar blue eyes.

Oh shit.

:) drop a review please :)

bye!