Scotlynn skipped beside Bon, her hand in his gloved one, his scarf once again wrapped around her neck. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, not bothering to braid it that morning. The sun was out, and that meant the air was even colder, the snow on the ground sparkling. Bon stopped the pair of them, looking both ways before they crossed the street. 

The studio wasn't big, but it got the job done. Malcolm had gone off about it being the smallest one they had yet, with barely enough room for Phil's drums. Phil never said anything, and since George was in charge, this was the studio they used. From the outside, it looked like a house, abandoned by its owners in the fifties. Inside the equipment was all set up, wires littering the floor. They all had a good laugh when Malcolm, during one of his speeches tripped over a cord and twisted his foot. Their laughter immediately silenced when they remembered whose band this was anyway, and how easy it was to be fired. A few minutes later, however, one could see Malcolm hiding a smile out of the corners of their eyes. 

Bon opened the door, letting Scotlynn in first. She stepped inside, the snow falling off her black buckled shoes onto the carpet. The long hallway was quieter than the snow falling outside. Bon let the door close after him, stamping his feet on the rug. Scotlynn watched, then proceeded to do the same thing. Taking her hand, he led her down the hall.

"That was Phil's car out front," Bon said rounding a corner. The walls, despite being a pure cream color, captivated Scotlynn's attention entirely. Another new building that she'd never seen before. and filled with new people. No Mrs. Valerie scrubbing the freckles off her arms at bath time or any Miss Atkinson's hobbling around answering 'no' to everything. No Tabby throwing cups at her head. No boundaries, no rules. 

She wondered if this is what Bon felt like all the time.

"...at least should be here."

Upon Bon opening the door, Scotlynn suddenly felt nervous to meet Bon's friends. If they weren't so keen on the idea of letting her stay with them while they worked, she could end up right where she started, on a train to nowhere. Bon looked behind him to see the girl cowering behind his leg, habitually putting a thumb in her mouth. "You nervous?" She didn't answer him. Bon let the door swing shut before kneeling down to her and taking her hands in his. "Come on, take your thumb out. They're not gonna hurt ya', I told 'em yesterday you were comin'. There's only four of 'em. An' George." He took Scotlynn's hand back again. "An' get that thumb out of your mouth, that's a bad habit."

"You smoke," she smartly pointed out. Bon smiled. 

"When I can't help it. Look, it does good not to follow my examples all the time, kid. Now you comin', or what?"

With two brave feet, she stood her ground and nodded. Bon stood up and took her hand, reaching for the doorknob. Noise on the other side filtered through the open door, only stopping if the door closed again. There were almost hundreds of speakers, the biggest Scotlynn had ever seen. Instruments she had only ever seen in picture books at the nursery were everywhere, one of them even lying on the floor. One man sat at a very large drum set, fiddling with a cymbal. He didn't look up from his work, just held a hand up in greeting. "The boys all here, Phil?" Bon asked taking his jacket off. Scotlynn watched him, then began removing her own coat.

"Oh, yeah, left 'em in the trunk," Phil mumbled, testing the cymbal out. When it didn't crash to the floor, he grabbed a second cymbal and fiddled with another section of the set. Scotlynn looked to Bon to explain the joke. Taking both jackets and scarf, he tossed them on a rickety couch where Phil's coat lay. "They've been cursin' at me all morning', thought you could shut 'em up."

"Eh, don't listen to him," Bon whispered upon seeing Scotlynn's frightened expression. "He didn't mean it." His gloves were set on the top of the pile, Bon plopping down on the torn-up cushion. Scotlynn had no hesitation in jumping on it, knocking over the pile of clothes, catching Phil's attention. "Hey now, hey now-hey," Bon said grabbing her tiny hands and pausing her acrobatics. Staring hard at her, Scotlynn lowered her head, knowing she'd get in trouble. "Why don't you pick those up an' we'll sit on the couch, huh?" She turned her head away and nodded, stepping off the couch to find the fallen jacket. "This couch is a piece of shit-uh, piece of junk anyway."

"Uh, Bon?" Phil stood from his place at the drums and approached the pair. 

"Ruddy," Bon answered. 

"You uh-have anythin' you want to say?" Bon frowned, Phil motioning his head toward the girl behind the couch. 

"Ah." Bon sat up. "This is a little scamp I picked up on the street yesterday, I told you didn't I? Well, she's stayin' with us-with me for a bit until I can get her settled back somewhere."

Scotlynn thought she'd rather stay right where she was behind that couch. This new face looked friendly enough, with much tamer hair than Bon, and the bluest eyes she'd seen on anyone. His smile wasn't non-existent, though it would have been nice if it had been bigger. Bon's was the normal jack-o-lantern grin as he looked over his shoulder at her, waiting for her to come out. "Come on, Phil ain't gonna hurt ya'. He's no meaner than a tiger, ya' know?"

"You wouldn't happen to be Scotlynn, would you?" he asked, attempting to draw the little girl out. "Bon may have mentioned you the other night."

Hearing her name pronounced correctly on the first try, the four-year-old peered around the sofa, playing with her loose hair. "I only told the boys I had a little friend stayin' over, Scottie dog, they really don't know you either."

"Speakin' a which," Phil spoke up. "What's Mal gonna say?"

"'Bout what?"

"Your uh-new friend."

"Tell him it ain't his problem, ya' know?" Bon smiled. 

Before Scotlynn could make herself comfortable she heard the studio door open again, a pair of loud voices echoing through the hall. The door slammed shut, footsteps stomping in their direction surely soiling the floor with slush and mud. Phil, still looking at Bon, pursed his lips and returned to his drum set, taking a seat. A cymbal fell, and he cursed before picking it up. 

"Oi, do ya' mind?" Bon whispered nodding his head at the little girl. Scotlynn couldn't care less about what Phil said, as she seemed much more interested in the sound-and the smell-coming from the hall.

"Phil! That you in there?" A distant voice called.

"That'd be me," he answered fixing his cymbal, glancing up at Bon. "Who else is here?"

"Me!" Cliff yelled before Malcolm could answer, adding, "Ang's here too. I brought breakfast!"

The hidden men began talking among themselves so Scotlynn couldn't hear them anymore. She sure tried to, tilting her head when she heard a few new words as well, such as 'fuckin' weather' and 'me damn legs'. In an instant the door to the room they were in opened, three men stumbling in on the shortest legs Scotlynn thought she'd ever seen on a man. Of course, she hadn't seen many, to begin with. The third one was a bit taller, with hair longer than her own. She noted it was kept much neater than hers as well. An enormous brown paper bag was dropped on a table, a coat removed and set beside it, and small wrappings of food taken from the bag. She watched with curiosity, her stomach starting to growl. Bon heard her, giving her a look. 

"Is everyone here? I wanna get started right away-" The young man with the straight dark hair suddenly stopped talking, noticing a sixth member of their company, one he wasn't familiar with. A man even shorter than him noticed her too, both of them looking to Bon for an answer.

"Oh, Mal, you know Scotlynn, don't ya'?" Bon asked with a cheeky grin ruffling her hair. He frowned.

"I, uh-"

"Sure ya' do, I mentioned her last night, remember?" Malcolm slowly nodded his head, putting together the pieces of the puzzle. "She's gonna be stayin' with me for a while, ya' know?"

"Uh-huh," the man named Malcolm replied, crossing his arms. The shorter man next to him looked at him, waiting for a response, taking a drink from his soda bottle. Scotlynn took a glance at him, recognizing him as the man Bon took a walk with. Angus...was that his name? Putting his tongue in his cheek, Malcolm finally answered. "And uh-you didn't exactly mention who she was, ya' know." Bon nodded his head in consideration. "Would you mind tellin' us now?" The taller man only then turned around, eyes landing on the little girl. She suddenly became very shy, hiding her face in Bon's arm, sticking a lock of hair in her mouth to chew on. The food behind them lay forgotten. 

"You're not upset or anythin', are ya' Mal?"

"No, I'm jus' confused as to why you've-" He was cut off by Phil, who crashed a drum stick on the cymbal he had just attached, drawing everyone's attention.

"Sorry, jus' checkin'."

"Ang, you remember me tellin' you 'bout ol' Scottie dog, here, eh?" He pulled the hair from her mouth and brushed it aside.

"If I did I wasn't payin' attention," he said. Scotlynn noticed his voice was low and tired as if he hardly ever saw a good night of sleep. She looked at him again, Angus smiling at her. He'd be the first, she thought. 

"She must have seen us walkin' down the street a few days ago, ya' know when Mal kicked us out?"

"Scott, I'd like a word with you," Malcolm said putting his hands to his hips. Bon stared at him.

"What, am I in trouble?"

"Jus' get yer arse over here," Malcolm responded. He looked to the couch to see Scotlynn staring at him, making his next words all the harder. "Jus' wait a minute darlin', we'll be back in a few minutes. Ang?" Angus turned around, walking through the studio door his brother held open for him. Cliff looked to the smaller man, understanding he was demanded to follow. Grabbing a still-hot egg sandwich, he took after Angus, Bon standing up from the couch. "Phil." Phil sighed standing up from the drums and walking through the open door.

"Be right back, alright?"

"Where are you going?" Scotlynn asked.

"Just stay here," Bon ordered before letting Malcolm close the door on all of them. Rubbing his face, Malcolm began his lecture.

"Why is there a five-year-old girl in my studio?" he asked with a tired sounding voice.

Bon shrugged. "Needed a place to stay is all."

"Where the hell are her parents?"

"Would you calm down, Malcolm? Before she hears you?" Malcolm sighed at Bon's request, waiting for him to continue. "She ran away from an orphanage, according to her they kicked her out an' she needs a place to stay until we can get somethin' settled." Malcolm's face softened for a minute before frowning again. 

"When you mentioned somethin' about a girl comin' with you, I didn't think you meant a five-year-old."

"Yeah, little young for ya', ain't she?" Angus joked. Bon punched his shoulder with a toothy grin of his own.

"That's not what this is about, not at all. An' she's four, not five, she hasn't even started school yet."

"Does this orphanage or whatever know she's gone?" Malcolm asked, now sounding a bit concerned. Bon shrugged.

"Probably not. Look, I'll call 'em tonight an' explain the whole matter. They'll take her back an' get her settled an' that'll be the end of it." 

"And if they don't?" Phil asked, voicing Malcolm's growing concern and grabbing Cliff's sandwich from his hand, taking a bite.

"Well-I told her I'd call the police or something', an' they could take her," Bon answered. "Tell them about a missin' kid, an' if this orphanage is really as bad as she says it is, they can deal with it." Malcolm sighed, looking through the little window on the door. He couldn't see her from where he stood.

"When are you callin' 'em?" he asked giving up his search.

"I'll call 'em tonight, don't worry about it."

"Alright, alright fine. You make sure you do that, understand? I don't want the cops on our asses because you decided it'd be fun to kidnap an English orphan."

"Up yours, Mal," Bon answered as Malcolm opened the door. Instead of sitting on the couch where she was told to stay, Scotlynn had begun to wander around the studio room, inspecting every crevice. As she attempted to pick up one of the guitars from the stand, Malcolm caught her, picking her up under her arms and lifting her away.

"'Ey, that's not for touchin', okay?" he told her gently, but firmly. He set her down on a piano bench, despite the piano still sitting in the gear closet. Scotlynn watched him take the guitar off the stand and pull it over his head, letting it rest on his shoulders. The man called Angus had taken a sandwich from the table and unwrapped it, setting it on his lap as he sat down on the bench next to the little girl and fished his shirt pocket for a cigarette. Sticking it in his mouth he searched his jeans pocket for a lighter. "Oi, you're not lightin' up in here, Ang", Malcolm said taking the cigarette from his brother's mouth, setting it on a window sill.  Angus spread his arms out, Malcolm nodding his head toward Scotlynn who shyly watched them. 

"Oh," Angus said, grabbing his sandwich. "My bad."

"Sorry darlin', my brother doesn't know how to act around young ladies," Malcolm said giving her a wink. With his mouth full Angus answered.

"It's been a while since I've been around one this young, Mal."

"You're brothers?" Scotlynn asked, her voice sounding rather small and young compared to her company. 

"Sure. This here's my kid brother, Angus." Malcolm wrapped an arm around him, Angus shoving him off. 

"Get off, I'm eatin'." Malcolm stuck his tongue out, Angus doing the same. Scotlynn giggled, Angus letting one out as well. "So...Scotlynn, is it?" he asked. She nodded. "Hmm. Bon says you ran away from the orphanage?"

"You're the master at conversation, Angus," Cliff said coming to stand beside them. He had a guitar around his shoulders too, a skinnier one, and it didn't have as many strings as the others. He had a napkin in his hand, wiping his fingers from the mess his egg sandwich made. 

"I'm askin' her a question, is that such a crime?"

"Don't ask her how her day's been, Angus, that's much too thought out an' kind," Phil joined in. Angus smiled through his chewing and turned to face the little girl next to him.

"Pardon me, m'lady," he said making her laugh again. His smile grew bigger and her laughing ceased at her growling stomach. Ripping the sandwich in half, he asked her, "Have you eaten?" Scotlynn shook her head. 

"Bon gave me cereal but I didn't want it."

"Well now, we can't have that, can we?" Scotlynn greedily took the other half of the egg sandwich and shoveled it in her mouth, crumbs spilling everywhere.

"Seems to me, young lady, that as long as you're under my roof, you'll eat what I give you," Bon said from his spot on the couch. Scotlynn frowned, turning away from him, nibbling on the food. Angus raised his eyebrows, surprised at Bon's tone of voice.

"C'mon, Bon, what kind of cereal did you give her?" Cliff asked. He shrugged.

"Cornflakes. Same as I always eat. Same as Ang eats, same as you eat. Ain't my fault she didn't want it."

"How long has this cereal been in your cupboard, Bon?" Malcolm asked. "Any more than your usual five to six years an' I wouldn't touch it either."

Bon scoffed. "I know you wouldn't, Mal," he mumbled. Malcolm turned to face Scotlynn, watching her stuff her face.

"Eh, Bon's right ya' know, darlin'," he said. "He's givin' you a place to stay while this gets settled an' he's givin' ya' food, the least you can do to thank him is eat it."

"What if I don't like cereal?" she asked him defiantly.

"Well, then," Malcolm said calmly, sitting on a chair across from the bench. "You can ask him nicely to make ya' somethin' different."

"I didn't have time today, Scottie dog, I can make ya' somethin' different tomorrow mornin'." 

"What about the next day?" Scotlynn asked.

"Sure, sure," he mumbled.

"What about the next day?" To anyone else, it looked like Scotlynn simply tried his patience. To Bon, he knew she was looking for reassurance. For him to tell her she'd be staying with him for a long time. He sighed, looking to Malcolm for help.

"Look, I'll get ya' whatever you want, you can have ice cream for breakfast for all I care, alright? But I've gotta get you taken care of, an' get someone to look after you in the long run, alright?" Hearing those words upset her, Scotlynn turning completely around on the piano bench. Bon sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

Scotlynn felt a hand on her back, slightly turning to see Angus patting her. As he was the first one of the group to smile at her, she allowed it for now. Maybe she could stay with him? If Bon didn't want her...

"Bon, on your feet, we've got work to do." Malcolm grabbed another guitar from a stand beside the couch and brought it to his brother, Angus taking it from him. "If ya' don't mind, darlin', we're gonna be messin' around in here for a bit, you're free to do what ya' want, jus' don't touch anything we've got set up over here, alright?" he asked turning the pegs on his guitar. Giving her one last comforting pat on the back Angus stood up with his own instrument and stood beside Phil, exchanging a few words with him. Scotlynn stopped listening, keeping her eye on Bon as he stood beside Cliff taking a drink of water. His eyes were on her as well. 

A few hours later, a very bored Scotlynn sat on the piano bench swinging her legs and rolling her head around. The five men played around on their instruments for an eternity, stopping in the middle of a song, then restarting. Or playing half of a song on purpose before writing something down on a paper before starting again. Bon did most of the writing, Scotlynn noted. She saw how focused he was when he wrote, always pushing the hair away from his eyes. During their lunch break, she sat next to Angus again, sharing a carton of French fries from the stash Malcolm picked up. They talked a lot too. Phil and Malcolm the most it seemed, especially with each other. 

After lunch, it was right back to work, the loud music starting up again. Miss Atkinson never played such music at the orphanage, none of the kids even listened to that kind. After a few minutes, her attention went to the cigarette Malcolm placed on the window sill, knowing Jimmie Bean would have loved a treasure like that to keep. More than any battery. Maybe Scotlynn could take it...

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, Ang..." Malcolm stopped his share of the music, everyone else crashing to a halt. Angus looked up from his playing, his messy hair even messier than before. "The sound's not comin' out right on your part."

"My part?" he asked defensively. 

"Yes, your part."

"My bass has been actin' up a bit lately, Mal, it might have been me-"

"Nah, I can hear it, it's definitely Ang." Angus sat back down on the piano bench picking up his cup of water he set on the floor by his feet. After chugging it down, he stood up to get more. Malcolm took to the amplifiers on one side of the room, checking every plug and chord there was. Bon flopped back on the couch, resting his feet on the armrest. Scanning the room he couldn't see Scotlynn. He even looked behind the couch to see if she decided to hide from him. Before he could get up and look properly, a loud crash came from the other side of the room, the closet door wide open. "Shit," Malcolm muttered standing up from his spot on the floor.

There by the closet door was a pile of extra cymbals and a spare guitar, along with a skinnier one like Cliff had, and a microphone stand, all scattered on the floor. Standing beside it all was a little four-year-old girl with black hair and black buckled shoes. 

"Shit," Malcolm muttered again opening the door wider. Scotlynn stepped back, afraid of what'd he say. "Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" he asked a bit louder than normal. "Didn't I specifically ask you not to touch anything in here?"

She stepped back some more, giving him room to start cleaning the mess up. Bon had stood up from the couch to check out the situation. Scotlynn was still his responsibility. "Mal, go easy on her, it was an accident."

"Do we not have rules 'round here regardin' the gear, hmm?"

"If I remember right, Mal," Bon spoke up. "you told her not to touch anythin' over there," he said pointing to their equipment. "You didn't say shit-nothin' 'bout the closet over here. Hmm?" Scotlynn watched Bon with wide eyes, suddenly feeling very safe next to him. And not as angry with him. Malcolm sighed as he removed his guitar from around his shoulders and handed it to him. 

"Cliff, give me a hand." Also handing his guitar to Bon, he took to helping the smaller man pick up the mishandled equipment. Bon, giving Scotlynn a little smile, took the instruments to the couch and set them down. 

"Uh, Mal?" Cliff asked holding something in his hands.

"What now?" He saw the neck of a bass in one hand, while the body rested in the other. Stings had popped right out of place and the paint had chipped. "Oh, fuck."

"George won't be happy," Cliff said.

"No fuckin' hell he won't be happy," Malcolm muttered. Scotlynn only heard the name once, from Bon. But whoever he was, Scotlynn didn't think she wanted to meet him. Sighing again, Malcolm looked around. "Jus' set it over there for now, I'll deal with it later."

"Hey, Mal," Bon said returning to the group.

"What?" His voice was tired.

"Why don't you let Scotlynn help?" Malcolm stopped what he was doing which involved handing Phil all the broken cymbals so he could keep track of how many needed to be replaced and looked to the little girl, her eyes swimming with tears. "Give her somethin' to hold, like, ya' know. Give her a broom."

Rubbing his eyes he nodded, waving his hand for Scotlynn to assist him. Her gait was cautious as she approached him. Malcolm handed her a snare drum with a hole punched through the skin from the microphone stand. "Hand that to Phil, would ya'? All of this we're gonna have to get rid of unless one of us knows how to fix it." Scotlynn did as she was told, avoiding the blue eyes of the drum owner. Bon watched her, grabbing the microphone stand and checking to see if it was broken.

Retreating from the bad moods by the closet, she backed up into a pair of short legs, jumping with a start. Angus took off his guitar and set it on the couch, taking a seat next to it. "'Ey, c'm'ere." 

He didn't seem to be cross with her, so she accepted his invitation, where he picked her up and set her down on his lap. She watched the men begin to argue, to which she hid her face in Angus' shirt. "Bit crabby today, ain't they?"

"Who's George?" she asked quietly. 

"He's Mal and I's older brother," Angus answered. "That was his bass that got broken, ya' know?"

"That ain't my fuckin' problem, now is it?"

Scotlynn didn't like the sound of that. If Malcolm got this upset over what she had done, George would certainly have her sent away if he found out his instrument got broken. Angus held her in a comforting embrace, patting her back while the yelling continued. 

"Give the kid a damn break, Mal, it was jus' an accident."

"...I know, I know."

Scotlynn's eyes began to grow heavy, Angus' arms suddenly the warmest and safest place on Earth. A few minutes of drifting off and she was woken by someone calling her name, Angus rubbing her arm to wake her up. "Hey, darlin'." Malcolm was kneeling by her, his eyes looking straight at hers. Blinking a few times, his image finally came into focus. "I'm sorry for yellin', ya' know?" he said. "To reiterate what I said before, you can't touch anythin' in here. That means anythin' inside or outside that closet, understand?" Scotlynn nodded, feeling braver from the lower volume. "I don't mind you bein' here when we play, alright? None of us do. But as long as Bon's got you in his care, an' you're stayin' with us, you'll go by our rules, okay?"

She nodded her head again.

"Why don't you answer him, Scottie?" Bon whispered gently. "Out loud."

"Yes," she mumbled. Malcolm smiled. Scotlynn thought he looked much nicer when he smiled. Handsome even. Her heart skipped a beat. 

Ruffling her hair, Malcolm stood up. "Good. Look, we've got it all cleaned up now, see?" Scotlynn saw. What had once been a pile of rubble had turned into a clean, organized stack of gear needing replacements. "We'll take the day off tomorrow, alright?" Malcolm asked. His eyes met Bon's. "So we can get other work done, yeah?"

"Thank God," Cliff said speaking everyone's minds. He grabbed his coat from the table, several wrappings surrounding it, a few falling to the floor. 

"Pick up after yourselves, all of you," Malcolm said grabbing his own coat. Giving Scotlynn a little smile, he rolled his sleeves up. "Unless whatever you drop is too heavy." Scotlynn turned her head toward Angus' shirt, her face heating up from embarrassment. Or perhaps...something else?

"Sorry, miss, but I've gotta get up." Angus set her on the floor and stood up for a stretch. She watched the group of men gather themselves and pick up leftover food and paper bags from lunch, the rubbish bin quickly filling up. Phil and Bon stayed behind a bit waiting for the room to clear, talking about something Scotlynn couldn't care less about. Sitting on the armrest of the couch was her black coat, next to Bon's leather jacket. She quickly put it on, waiting for Bon to quit talking. "We'll see ya' soon, Scotlynn, yeah?"

She smiled and nodded. "An' don't worry 'bout George, we'll settle with him," Malcolm said before leaving with his brother. Scotlynn followed them all to the door, getting one last look at them. Malcolm noticed her, nudging Cliff with his elbow. Cliff waved, Scotlynn waving back with a smile. Soon after they were gone, the sun beginning to set. Phil's voice came from behind her, walking out the door with Bon at his side. 

"So, Mal's lettin' her stay, eh?"

"Like I said, it's not for him to worry about," Bon said taking his jacket from Scotlynn's hand. She stared up at him, his hair covering his face. "I'll get it settled an' he can untie the knot in his knackers long enough to tell George what happened." Scotlynn's gaze settled on her feet. "He'll be pissed, but he'll get over it."

"Hope you know what you're doin', Bon," Phil said walking out the main doors. "Glad I'm not in your shoes."

"Cinderella's sisters couldn't fit in her shoes now, could they?" Bon called after him with a grin. Taking Scotlynn's hand, they made their way down the street. 

"Alright, dry off, then off to bed."

"Can't I stay up with you?"

"No."

"Why?" Bon rolled his eyes as he picked up Scotlynn's coat and clothes from the bathroom floor. 

"It's too late, and you're too young." A harsh snowfall fell outside, Bon's heater kicking on. Water dripped on the floor where Scotlynn stood, clenching the towel in her hands. 

"I'm not tired," she argued stubbornly. 

"Well I am. Now piss off," he smiled. Stomping from the bathroom down the hall, she opened the door to Bon's room and threw her towel down. Her pajamas had been set on the bed where she slept last time, and she pulled them on in only ten minutes. 

Bon took her clothes to a laundry bag filled to the brim in the entryway. Shaking the extra clothes in, he zipped it up and tossed it down, knocking down one of his shoes. If Malcolm called the day off that'd give him some time to do the laundry tomorrow. Scotlynn would love another little field trip. Grabbing a towel from the closet he closed the bathroom door to take a quick shower. 

With only a few drops of hot water left he finished quicker than he wanted and turned the tap off. His black shirt he had thrown over the counter wasn't twice worn yet, so he simply put it back on, as well as his jeans. The air outside of the bathroom was much colder than the hot steam of the shower, sending goosebumps up and down his arms. The kitchen sink was full of plates and cups from their dinner, the macaroni caking on. After a quick rinse and a toss into the dishwasher, he made it back to his bedroom to see Scotlynn still awake, her towel sitting on the carpet while she sat on the bed, pajamas on, book on her lap. Bon picked her towel up from the floor.

"Ya' know you could put your towel away yourself," he mentioned. She didn't answer, instead flipping another page. "Ya' comfortable?"

"I want a glass of milk," she said.

"You jus' had one at dinner," he reminded her. "If you have another one now, you might wake up at two in the mornin' an' my bed floatin' down the street, ya' know?" he smiled. 

"I want milk," she insisted. Bon folded the towel over his arm.

"Say please."

"Milk."

"That's not what I asked, Scottie dog, I asked you to say please." She frowned at him, setting her book aside and pushing away the comforter. "Where're ya' goin'?" he asked watching her walk past him. She made it to the kitchen and pulled a chair out from the table. It scraped the ground, Bon wincing from the sound. "Hey, knock it off, will ya'?"

Scotlynn set the table next to the counter and climbed on, pulling herself up. Opening the cupboard she saw a few clean glasses, grabbing one and setting it down. Bon watched her idly, standing by in case she should fall. But it wasn't her that fell. As she climbed down from the counter, her foot swung out and around, kicking down the glass she had just grabbed. With a quick death, it became a hundred pieces of sharp, broken glass. Bon sighed. "I was afraid that might happen," he told her.

She looked down at the mess she made with downturned eyes. Lowering a foot to the floor, Bon stepped in and grabbed her before she could finish. "Come on, don't go steppin' all over the glass, you'll hurt yourself." He set her down a few feet away by the table, where the chair was put back. The pieces of glass sparkled from the dim kitchen light. Bon stared at the mess, then back at Scotlynn. "Go to the closet and get the broom for me would ya'?" he asked calmly. "Please."

Without question, Scotlynn did as she was told, watching Bon sweep everything into a paper bag. When he was finished she peered from behind the table, worried he'd yell at her. "Here, take this back, an' get into bed." Taking the broom she dragged it back to the closet and shut the door, running and jumping into Bon's bed, pulling the comforter over her face. Maybe Bon wouldn't be able to find her under there.

A few minutes later she heard footsteps, careful to stay extra quiet. They got closer and closer, her heart beating faster and faster. "Get out of there, will ya'?" Scotlynn stayed put. In a second the blanket was off, her wet hair flying in different directions. Bon stood over her, setting a clean, glass still in one piece on the nightstand beside her, where he'd usually set a bottle of whiskey or the like. Milk filled it halfway. "Now I shouldn't be givin' you this, ya' know," he told her sitting down on the bed beside her. "But you know where the bathroom is an' you're trained ain't ya'?" She nodded her head. So the orphanage wasn't completely useless after all. "An' after your little stunt today, breakin' my glass an' all, you should be sent to bed without anythin'. But, I'll let it slide. Today," he added. 

Scotlynn looked at her glass of milk. It didn't look as appetizing as she thought it would. "Hey, dropped your book." She grabbed it and hid it under the covers, hoping Bon would leave her for the night. "What book is that?" He pulled back the covers a little and gently took the book from her, reading the cover. "Huh." He flipped through the pages. "Don't think I've ever read this one."

"Will you read it to me?" Where the courage to ask a question like that after all the trouble she'd gotten into came from she didn't know. Bon set the book in her lap and stood up. 

"Maybe tomorrow, kid. You an' I have a long day tomorrow an' we both need our sleep."

"But I can't sleep without a story," she lied.

"You slept just fine last night," he argued. "Why don't you read it to yourself?"

"I can't read," she reminded him. 

"Oh, right." His phone in the living room began ringing, and Scotlynn pulled back the covers to follow him. "Stay right there, ya' understand?" he asked pointing a finger. "I gave you your milk, now go to sleep. Consider the book your punishment for breakin' the glass, yeah?" He shut the door, sighing and putting a hand to his forehead. He must be coming down with something.

Sitting down on his couch he debated picking up his phone. Let them call him tomorrow, he thought. But if it was Malcolm his door would be knocked down in the morning, and his ears would fall off before breakfast. Putting the phone to his ear he leaned back and picked at the denim of his jeans. "Yes?"

"Bon? Mal's in the shower, he asked me to call you." Angus. 

"Ang. What does he want?"

"He wants to know your plan for Scotlynn," he said. Bon closed his eyes. For something that wasn't his problem, Malcolm sure liked to stick his nose where it didn't belong. "Wants to make sure the plan is the right thing to do."

"What, he doesn't trust me?"

"Sure. But if we can do this without involving the police if possible, or if calling the orphanage is a good idea..."

"Look, maybe what she says is true an' the place really did kick her out, then sending her back would be the worst thing. Even if we don't call the police, we'd still have to find someone to take care of her." Bon heard Angus mumble over the line. "What was that, Ang?"

"I was jus' sayin' she has you to stay with."

"I can't keep her here forever, Ang, you know the kind of shit that goes on over here?"

"Well if you want a lady over jus' tell Mal an' we'll-"

"It ain't that easy, she wants to stay with me," Bon said putting a hand under his chin. "She wants to live here for good, an' it's more than jus' the women, I'd have to start a new lifestyle havin' a kid over here."

"You say that like it's such a bad thing."

"Look, I'll call the orphanage place tomorrow an' ask about her records or somethin'. Maybe she's got family or someone she can live with. Alright?" Angus sighed.

"Alright. Mal's gettin' out of the shower, I'll tell him."

"An' tell Pinocchio to quit tellin' tall tales makin' his nose grow, it's startin' to get in business it doesn't belong in."

"I'll...I'll let him know. Night."

"Night." Bon hung up, having no clue what he would do if Scotlynn had no family to turn to. He knew Malcolm and Angus wouldn't mind watchin' over a kid, but they'd probably prefer it was one of their own and not someone who ran away to live with a man whose life wasn't suitable for them. Tomorrow. He'd call them tomorrow. With a yawn, he grabbed the blanket crumpled on the coffee table and threw it over himself, lying back on the couch. Tomorrow.

Right after he took his garbage out.