"Scotlynn?" Scotlynn was frozen to the bench with fear. A man stood behind her, a look of concern on his face, hidden by his long brown hair. "Scottie dog, is that you?"

Bon's leather jacket was covered with snow, his hair the same way. He wore brown gloves, taking them out of his pocket to check if the girl on the bench was who he thought. He wasn't sure if he should be happy to see her or not. 

Scotlynn scooted away from him, Bon taking it as an invitation to sit next to her. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she rubbed them away, worried they'd freeze on her cheeks. Bon kept his distance seeing her hesitance and fear, and folded his hands on his lap. "What are you doin' out here?"

She had to think fast. Telling him she ran away would get her sent right back there again. "They kicked me out." His eyes widened.

"They kicked you out?" he asked. She sat silent a moment then nodded. "Whatever for?" She shrugged. "Well they can't have kicked you out for no reason."

"They didn't want me anymore," Scotlynn said shaking her head. Her whole body shook actually, as the wind started to pick up. 

"Didn't want you..." Bon mumbled. He stood from the bench and held his hand out for Scotlynn to take. "Come on, get your stuff."

"Why?"

"They can't kick you out for that, or for any reason," Bon said, grabbing hold of the suitcase himself. "Here, I'll take you back an' we can have a little talk with 'em."

"No!" Scotlynn grabbed the arm of the bench and held on. He wouldn't really send her back, would he? 

"Scottie dog, come on-"

"No!" Bon took the space next to her, letting go of her suitcase. The little girl turned away from him, hurt that he wanted to put her back. Couldn't he see what an awful place it was, how awful the kids were to her? At least, how awful Tabby was, and how unfair all the adults were after the fight. She really began to shiver now, when the snow fell faster, and heavier. Bon's face was difficult to make out through the dark, the snow, and her tears. 

"Scotlynn, you can't stay out here. You gotta go back, ya' know. An' they can't be kickin' kids out, that's doin' 'em no good. Not to mention against the law an' morally wrong," Bon said matter-of-factly. "C'mon, I'll take you back an' talk with 'em. C'mon."

Stubborn was Scotlynn's middle name it seemed.

"No," she whimpered. Bon could see he was getting nowhere with this kid. Didn't she realize she could die out here? Didn't the orphanage realize how stupid they were being by kicking little four year olds out in the snow? He narrowed his eyes wondering how much of Scotlynn's story was true. Although, this didn't seem to be the best time to ask. He nudged her shoulder, only getting a tongue stuck out at him as a reply. 

"Scotlynn..." He sighed. Bon noticed he had started to shiver himself. Neither one of them could think with a clear head. The sooner she got back to the orphanage the sooner she could warm up in her bed, and he in his. He might even get a kick out of telling them off. But the little girl wasn't moving. 

"Don't make me go back there," he heard her say. Her face was half covered by her coat so it was a little hard to hear. "Nobody wants me around, I just mess everything up!"

"Now Scottie dog, you know that's not true," Bon said, doing his best to reason with a four year old. 

"Yes it is, you weren't there!" Scotlynn's hair had gotten a little frizzy, some of it still wet. There wasn't that much snow falling to get it soaked.

"What happened to your hair?" he asked inspecting it. 

"Got water poured on me," Scotlynn answered truthfully. Bon frowned.

"Who did it?"

"The kids at the orphanage, they hate me!"

"Now listen, it only takes one kid to pour water on someone, not an entire orphanage." Scotlynn stuck her tongue out at him again. Bon pointed a finger at her. "Ya' know, it's really not polite to do that to someone, especially when that someone only wants to help you." Scotlynn didn't answer to that. 

"That same one-hit me," Scotlynn said, hoping to change Bon's mind. "After dumping water on me she threw her cup at me and hit me."

"Hit ya'," the man said, looking for any sign of a fight. He noticed some slight bruising on Scotlynn's left cheek, thinking it had been a bit of dirt. "What kind of place are they runnin'?" he asked himself. "Did you ask for help?"

"They wouldn't give me any, they just packed up my things and made me leave." Bon sat a while in thought. Knowing good and well she couldn't stay out there in the cold night, he was starting to rethink his plan to send her back. While that orphanage needed a good kick in the pants about what they do with the children, Scotlynn didn't seem to be in a safe place there. Kids get bullied, sure. But having to live with the bullies, and never feel like you belong isn't something anyone should have to go through. Bon remembered his days in school, where he was picked on for his name and accent. Of course his mother still made him go, but he could go home every evening and get away from it for a while. After kicking Scotlynn out, they might not be willing to argue, especially this late at night. In fact, Bon didn't really feel too much like arguing either. 

Scotlynn's nose was running quite a bit now. She put her coat sleeve to it, her face red with chill. A white scarf was gently wrapped around her neck, and a hand was held out to her. She turned around to see Bon holding her suitcase, tapping his fingers on the handle. "Come on, Scotlynn." She hid in her coat again. "I'm not gonna take you back, don't worry. At least, not tonight anyway, I'm too tired an' cold to bother. Come on." She looked at him from behind the scarf. "My place is a block away, I was jus' goin' home anyway. You can stay there a while until we find somethin' for you, alright?" 

Her little hand grabbed his larger gloved one and the two walked down the sidewalk and crossed a few streets to get to Bon's apartment. By the time they got there the snow had stopped falling, the wind now blowing it off the ground. Rolling the suitcase behind him, Bon was quite glad his room was on ground level. Taking his key out of his pocket he opened the door, letting Scotlynn step inside first.

She couldn't believe her luck. Breaking out of the orphanage with such ease only to find the one man she was looking for, and have him bring her to his house where she could stay forever. It was like a story book come to life. She rushed inside, forgetting to wipe her feet before coming in.  The couch was brown and torn, a patch or two on the cushions. The table leaned, as did most of the chairs surrounding it. Scotlynn ran from the living room to the kitchen looking for any signs of Bon's friends, or even a fish tank. The apartment was empty save the two residents and the furniture. Bon set the suitcase beside the coffee table, looking up to see no little girl next to him. "Scottie dog?" he called, looking down the hall. "Where'd you run off to?"

He stumbled forward when something grabbed his leg, the little four year old wrapped around it. He lifted his foot and tried gently shaking her off. "C'mon, let go now."

"Where are your friends?" she asked, letting him go and running to check out the couch.

"They're at their hotel rooms right about now," Bon answered. "Unless they all went out drinkin' without me, in that case they can deal with the shitty weather. Oh, sorry 'bout that." Scotlynn didn't seem to hear the bad word. 

"Do you have any fish?"

"Fish? Uh, maybe a few fish sticks in the freezer. But I don't have any pets if that's what you mean. Some tend to make my nose run like, an' that's not pretty, ya' know." Scotlynn left the couch and went to the kitchen, looking through the fridge for any spare food Bon might not have wanted. "Have you-have you eaten?"

"No," she answered, pulling out a bottle of soda. She hadn't had one in years, the orphanage served water, milk, and juice. Her chubby fingers picked at the lid. Bon took to her side, taking the bottle and opening it for her, checking to make sure it really was soda and not beer.

"Here, let me." He handed it back and she grabbed it with both hands, sipping loudly. Bon stood up and opened the door to the fridge wider. "Ya' know, that's not really dinner," he said. Most food he bought for the week had begun to run low, his garbage bin full of fast food wrappings and Angus' candy wrappers. He'd take it out tomorrow before work, if he remembered. Work. Unless someone came to the apartment that night, he'd have to take her to the studio with him. The guys liked kids, sure. But having to babysit on top of all the songs they were recording, it'd drive them all mad. Bon finally found a not frozen anymore burrito in the back and pulled it out. "Here, you can have this if ya' want...Scotlynn?"

She wasn't at his side anymore. 

Scotlynn had taken her soda with her to the hallway, where she looked through each of the rooms. There were only two, one being a bathroom, the other what she assumed to be Bon's room. It was relatively clean, much to Scotlynn's surprise. A couple shoes were stacked in the corner and a pair of pants lay next to them, but other than that there was nothing out of place. On his dresser was a wooden frame, someone's picture in it. She couldn't reach it; she'd have to stand on her toes for now. "Scotlynn?" She barely heard Bon in the hallway. 

The woman was a blonde, that much she could see. But her face was none she recognized. Large letters in cursive were scribbled on the bottom right corner. As messy as the writing was she couldn't read it anyway. "What are you doin'?" Bon stood there with the burrito in his hand, wrapped in foil. Scotlynn didn't like the way his eyes were narrowed.

"Who's this?" She pointed at the picture. Bon picked it up and looked at the woman, a sort of smile appearing. Scotlynn liked his smile much better. A smile suited him. "Is that your girlfriend?" she asked, braver this time.

"My uh-" He cleared his throat. "My wife, actually."

"You're married?" Scotlynn didn't know what to think about that. Where was she? Did she like children? Would she mind another one living here?

"Well, now we're divorced." He set the picture frame back on the dresser, his hand lingering for a moment longer, then turning to leave the room. 

"What's divorced?" Scotlynn asked. He held his hand out to her. 

"It means we're not married anymore. Come on, now." She took his hand, holding on to her soda with the other, and followed him back to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for her, taking her soda and setting it on the table, letting her climb on the chair with both hands. The now soggy burrito landed in a puddle on the plate, and Bon wiped his hands off. He stuck it in the microwave, now standing in silence, vulnerable to another question from his guest.

"What's her name?"

"Whose?"

"Your wife." Bon's smile came back, unwilling to hide behind his massive hair. 

"Irene," he said. The microwave beeped. The plate was hot, but the burrito wasn't. He put it back in.

"Why are you di-divor-divorced?" She never seemed to get tired of asking about Bon. Something about this man's life was fascinating to a curious four year old. Bon gave her a look, leaning against the counter. 

"I don't think you're old enough to hear that story, ya' know," he said, watching her drink her soda. The microwave beeped a second time, this time the burrito hot enough to eat. He set the plate in front of her, taking her soda aside. Bon forgot how messy children were, and laughed to himself when it dribbled on the table from her face. "Ya' want a napkin?" Scotlynn didn't answer and he gave her one anyway. She ate rather quickly, and Bon was worried about the meal quality at the orphanage. Did they feed their kids?

Scotlynn reached for her soda with open hands, both of them messy along with her face. "Wipe yourself off first," Bon said, withholding her drink. She cleaned up and Bon gave the half empty bottle to her. "Ya' know I'll have to call someone," he said, after her sipping was through. "Can't have ya' runnin' the streets in the dead of winter, ya' know."

"Call who?" Scotlynn didn't like what he was saying. 

"The police or someone," he said shrugging. "I have to let someone know where you are an' they can take care of ya'. Maybe they can straighten things out with that orphanage of yours an' they won't kick you out again."

"No!" Scotlynn regressed to a toddler and pushed her plate away, knocking the bottle of soda over. 

"Ah, Christ, Scotlynn," Bon said, standing up to grab a few more napkins. He wiped part of it up, throwing them away and again remembered to take the garbage out. The last few napkins he gave to Scotlynn, waiting for her to take them. "You can clean the rest of it up." She kicked her legs, both of them much too short to reach the floor. "I helped clean some, now you can clean the rest."

She took the napkins from him and wiped the soda from the table, her fingers getting sticky. "Thank you," Bon said. He took the napkins from her and threw them away as well, sighing when he saw Scotlynn continuing to pout. "I'm not callin' 'em right this minute, Scottie dog, but I'm jus' sayin' we need a plan for tomorrow, or after."

"I'm not going back."

"You're goin' wherever they say you're goin', wherever that might be."

"Why can't I stay with you?" Bon picked the bottle up from the table, giving an excuse not to look at her big puppy eyes. 

"I have work, Scotlynn," he said, rinsing the bottle out at the sink. "An' then we leave again, for a trip 'round Europe, an' the states, an' things like that."

"Why can't I come?"

"You think all that travellin' is good for ya'?" he asked. "We'd have to set you up with a passport an' get you situated, an' there's a lot more to this stuff than there looks." He felt bad seeing her chin drop down to her chest, her legs still kicking stubbornly. Whether she understood all that he said, he'd never know. But it no less pissed her off. "Ya' can stay the night, okay? After that I'll call someone an' if no one comes to get ya', you can come with me to work for awhile...the guys won't mind." Scotlynn lifted her head. "But that means behavin', yourself, alright? Mal an' Ang are trouble enough without another kid, an' I'm jus' as bad sometimes." Scotlynn didn't answer, afraid she might mess his plans up. "Hey, that alright?"

She finally nodded. 

"You can take my bed for now, it's all I've got." Scotlynn picked at her burrito, her nails rather filthy by now. "But you're takin' a bath first, alright?"

Wrapping the towel around her, he picked her up out of the bath and set her on the floor. He let the water drain, Scotlynn leaving the bathroom to head for Bon's room. The picture of Irene was still on the dresser, right where they left it. She searched other areas of his room this time, making sure not to miss a thing. Some clothes were hanging in his closet, his bed was made. She saw a large bottle on the nightstand filled with amber liquid. It didn't look at all like soda. She reached for it, turning it so she could see what it said. Of course, she still couldn't read it. 

Bon came up behind her, setting her clothes in a pile on the dresser, and rolling her suitcase to the edge of the bed. "We'll get your things washed soon, I'll have to take them to a laundromat in a few days, I got stuff to wash anyway...what are you doin'?" He took the bottle off the nightstand, seeing what was left.

"What is that?"

"Nothin' for you to worry about, this isn't for little kids."

"I'm not little," Scotlynn pouted, crossing her arms.

"Sorry, this ain't for squirts," he said, getting a laugh out of her reaction. "I couldn't sleep last night an' nearly froze my ass off. I mean, I was really cold." He drank the rest, taking the bottle with him back to the kitchen. "You can change in here, I've got some stuff to do."Bon closed the door after him leaving the girl alone to change. She dropped the towel and opened her suitcase, finding all her things tossed about inside. Her cans were dented and a few pages of her book were bent and torn. She found her pajamas and put them on, warming up instantly. She placed her towel on the dresser along with her clothes, suddenly remembering her locket in her coat pocket. She took it out before Bon could wash it, before she could lose it forever. Maybe Bon had a locket just like it, one with a photo of Irene in it. After all, he still had her photo on his dresser, didn't he? Taking her book with her to bed, she sat under the covers and opened it up, looking at the beautiful pictures.

Bon rinsed the whiskey bottle in the sink as well and set it on the counter with the soda. God knew how late it was and how much sleep he would not be getting that night. But...leaving Scotlynn to freeze in the snow was not an option. Mrs. Scott would be rather cross with him had she found out. 

Pacing back and forth by the phone didn't help his oncoming headache. Only made it worse. He set his leather jacket on the couch and sat down beside it, picking the phone up. He considered calling the police station and telling them what happened. They'd take better care of Scotlynn than he ever could. But he was tired and in no mood to spend hours taking care of things. He'd call them tomorrow. Right after he took the garbage out. Instead, he dialed a different number, leaning back on the couch while it rang. "Mal? You up?...Sorry, I-I know how late it is, Mal, I have a watch just like yours...Well, uh, it seems I'll be havin' some company with me at the studio tomorrow..." He sighed. "Yes, it's a girl...Uh huh...No, she's nothin' like 'em, you'll love her, Mal...Jus'-jus' wait till you see her...jus' lettin' you know...Okay...say hello to Ang for me...tell him to quit leavin' his fuckin' candy all over my place...goodnight as well, Oscar the Grouch." He hung up and stood from the couch, figuring Scotlynn had dressed herself by now. 

He knocked once, waiting a minute. "Scotlynn?" He opened the door slowly, waiting to be stopped or told otherwise. "You finished?" He saw her sleeping on the bed, her book sprawled out beside her. Her black hair was still wet, drying on his pillow. He took the book and placed it on the nightstand where the whiskey bottle had been. "Night, kid." He left, stepping over her belongings on the floor and closed his bedroom door. 

Taking a blanket from the closet, he stretched out on the couch, setting his jacket and gloves on the coffee table. Finally, he got some sleep.