"…So then when the air funnels through the smaller tubes near the cortex, the oxygen is picked up by the sensors and—"

"You know I can't understand a word you're saying, right?"

Garmadon chuckled and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the cold as I blushed in embarrassment from having gone off on yet another long scientific tangent. "It sure got chilly all the sudden," he noted as we rounded the corner to our street. (Our street— I was still getting used to that.)

"You think you're c-cold?" I asked, my hands tucked firmly in my lab coat pockets and a teal scarf wrapped around my neck. "You're the one who meditated to be immune to the weather; imagine how c-cold us normal folk are!"

"Yes, normal indeed," my partner teased, and I barely resisted sticking out my tongue in an imitation of Morro.

"I hope M-Morro turned on the heat already," I said as we started walking up to the house. I was barely able to keep my teeth from chattering.

"If he got here before us, I'm sure he did. And he probably didn't even think to ask permission first," he scoffed.

"Well, anyone with good sense would know they d-didn't need permission to use the heater on a d-day like this," I commented, opening the door. A more than welcome wave of heat pouring out the door let me know that Morro had, in fact, gotten home first.

"Oh, thank g-goodness," I noted, ushering Garmadon inside and quickly shutting the door, "It was f-freezing out there!"

I looked up at Garmadon, expecting him to make some sort of comment about how Morro should've asked permission to turn on the heat, but was surprised to instead see him standing silently in shock. I followed his gaze to see the expected teen sitting in the middle of the living room… with an unexpected smaller boy who looked like he could've been his younger brother.

"Oh— Sensei, Doc—!" Morro exclaimed, his words obviously taking a minute to catch up with his observations. "Uh… hi."

I blinked a few times, then managed to cock my head slightly and answer. "Hello," I said with a somewhat confused smile. "Who's this? I don't remember you saying you had company coming over."

The little boy's eyebrows shot up upon hearing my voice, and he quickly ducked behind Morro as if afraid of us. Seeing him scared like that, I suddenly recognized the child.

"Wait a moment, aren't you that boy from the park?" I asked, interrupting Morro from answering my own question.

The unnamed child peeked out timidly from behind his apparent friend's back. Morro put a hand on his shoulder as if trying to coax him out.

"Um, Doc," he said, addressing me although still looking at the boy, "this is Owen. Owen, this is Doctor Julien, although we call him Sanjay sometimes." He pointed up at Garmadon, who was still frozen in shock. "And that next to him is Sensei Garmadon. We call him lots of things."

"It's nice to meet you—" I started to say, but Garmadon finally found his voice and cut me off.

"What in Ninjago is going on here?" he asked, apparently a little slow on the uptake. "You brought a kid home?"

I laughed a little at the phrasing of that statement. "If Morro wants to have friends over, he can. Although," I said, turning to the teen, "I do wish you would've told me first. I would have brought something for him."

The little boy's eyes shifted nervously back and forth across the carpet. Morro's mimicked him.

"Um… yea, I'll definitely ask next time," he said, in a tone of voice suggesting that there was still something he wasn't telling me. I raised my eyebrow as if to ask what that was and he cleared his throat.

"Yea, actually…" he said, and I stole a glance at Garmadon's face, which screamed 'there's more?!'

"I was wondering," he continued, in a much more uncertain tone than was normal for him, "if we could let Owen crash here for a while. He's a static orphan," he quickly explained. Garmadon looked like he could hardly believe his ears, but he managed to respond to the question anyway.

"And what's wrong with Owen's own home?" he asked, folding his arms like Morro was an irresponsible kid who had just asked for a dog. (Actually, come to think of it, that analogy was pretty close to what was actually happening.)

"He doesn't have one," Morro replied quickly; I noticed he avoided using the word 'ain't'. "Actually, he didn't have a name when I met him, either. I named him." He looked up at me nervously, as if pleading for me to defend his case against Garmadon. Which was odd, considering I saw Garmadon as his real care-taker, but I suppose it was my house being debated about.

"Well," I said slowly, looking first at Garmadon's unapproving glare and then at Morro's nervous gaze, "I suppose… we could fit one more person… although you'll have to share the couch," I said. Morro bit his lip but nodded hopefully, still stealing silent, nervous glances at Garmadon. Owen's eyes lit up, but he didn't speak either, following the older boy's lead.

"…I'm glad you want to help someone in need," the sensei finally said, "but I really wish that didn't come at the price of intruding on Dr. Julien's hospitality."

"I'll take Owen myself when I get my own pad, promise," Morro said quickly. This surprised me: I wouldn't have placed him as the type to immediately agree to take on the burden of housing a homeless child, even just for a while.

"Well, that's very admirable of you," I said after a moment of thought. "But next time, do ask me first. You know I wouldn't deny you a request of such helpfulness, you know that, right?" It was a gentle command, but Morro closed his eyes and nodded seriously, in an almost shameful manner.

"…Well then," I said after a pause. I walked over and sat down next to Morro; Garmadon followed my lead. The little boy's— Owen's— expression had changed throughout the course of the conversation, but I had yet to hear him speak a single word. I smiled at him reassuringly. "If we're going to be staying together, I'd like to at least know what your voice sounds like."

"Oh," Morro said, "I forgot to tell you. He doesn't like talking much— his speech is pretty bad."

I was deciding whether to scold Morro for being so blunt or reassure the boy that I wouldn't mind however he sounded, when the silent child suddenly said—

"N-no, it's a'ight."

I flinched a little, startled, and Garmadon did the same. The boy paused, then slowly crawled out from behind Morro.

"I seen you," he said slowly to me. I felt like his dark eyes were staring directly into my soul— well, I suppose they were, but it was an unnerving feeling. "You ain't gonna side with the big bads, a' you? You' a kind man."

"He means the Departed Officials," Morro explained quickly.

I paused, considering his point slowly. "That would depend on the situation," I said finally. Owen nodded, satisfied. Morro looked a little more at ease seeing him do so.

"Well, I guess we should start making dinner, now," Garmadon said, looking out the glass doors as if they were windows. The sun was slowly starting to sink behind the tall tree out back. "It's getting kind of late… and tomorrow is a big day."

Morro jerked his head up. "I almost forgot! Dotted is tomorrow!"

"How could you forget?" I chuckled. "You've been talking about it nonstop all week."

"True— awww, no!" he cried. "We never bought any cookies."

"There will be plenty of cinnamon cookies at the party tomorrow," I assured him. "There always are."

"That may be true," Garmadon interrupted, "but we won't have to wait that long." Lo and behold, out of the shopping bag he'd never put down, he pulled out a box of official DOTD cinnamon cookies. (Considering the bag still looked full, I assumed he'd purchased more than one such box.) Morro lit up like a lantern and Owen's eyes widened like he'd just been shown treasure.

"Consider it an apology present," Garmadon said gruffly, tossing the box to Morro, who immediately started tearing it open. "And don't eat too many before dinner or—"

"If you say I'll spoil my appetite," Morro said, pulling out a cookie the size of his hand and shoving it into his mouth, "you're crazy."

I chuckled and reached out a hand expectantly; Morro huffed but handed me a cookie from the box, and then did the same for Owen, who looked like he'd just been handed a million dollars. The poor thing was probably starving.

"Well then," Garmadon announced, heading into the kitchen and bringing the rest of the boxes with him, "I'm going to start making dinner." He turned around and smiled expectantly at me. "Is my sous-chef going to help me out or not?"

I couldn't contain my smile as I followed him into the kitchen, taking a bite out of the pre-celebratory treat in my hand. "You can count on me."

(A/N: Oh no I saw a post today about Ninjago getting close to ending and nO IT'S TOO EARLY TO PANIC I GOTTA CALM DOWN X'D WE'RE NOT EVEN ON S9 YET JEEZ X'D Anyway, the reason I bring it up is... well... we've only got a few chapters of SDLPC left, too. Long chapters, at least according to plan, but only a few. I said long ago that I came up with an ending of SDLPC to work towards and honestly, I'm really excited for it, if not extremely anxious and also sad because I don't want it to end. I have SO many things I want to say. But, like Ninjago itself, I'm not going to get too emotional yet because we've still got a bit longer before we have to panic. So, for now... cheers, my friends, and let's enjoy the rest of the ride.)