1.

Little Constance Andrea McGreggor was six years old. She had long, blond hair that her uncle insisted she have curled to fit the "style". Being only six, and orphaned to her uncle when her parents and two brothers died in a fire, Constance was paid little attention, and often felt alone.

Now isn't that a beautiful beginning?

They resided in a fairly large brownstone in upper New York City. Her uncle, the owner of a particularly successful bank, provided the family with everything they could possibly need, and more. They themselves had a particularly large bank account, which labeled them, much to her uncle's satisfaction, the upper class of society. Naturally, much to Constance displeasure, these were the only kind of people she was permitted to socialize with. They were all annoying, over-dressed twits as far she was concerned. She wanted to get dirty, climb trees, run through the park, swim through the river, stay up late… like she had with her brothers…and make friends of a lifetime well spent. But that would never be. Not with them dead and the type of people she visited. Not in this city.

At this very moment, in fact, she was being dragged up the stone steps to just such a residence.

Oh, why do I have to be here? I despise Timmy and Toby--they're awful and cruel and--they don't even like me much, so why bother attending their birthday party, I had argued. Oh, but uncle will never hear me out. I'd much rather--um well, I guess I'd rather be here then at home, alone. I'm sick of being left with the maid, and the tutor, and cousin Carolyn- all she does is fret about "Marshall" and "Stephen" and- Hmmm, if only I could-

But at that moment her thoughts were interrupted as her much older cousin knocked on the door and then glanced down at Constance (a name which she despised. Back at her old home, she went by her middle name, Andrea, unless she was in trouble or her brothers were being particularly nasty. Her mother's parents were the ones who had insisted on her being named Constance. They didn't approve of her father, and he, naturally, didn't approve of the name. She liked Andrea much better, and yet even it did not seem to fit. But anything's better than Constance).

As the door opened, Andrea took one last deep breath from the fresh air outside, which she adored, knowing all to well that-

"Carolyn! Constance, dear! Oh, do come in. We've been waiting for your arrival!"

Right on target, thought Andrea bitterly as she was released from a bone crunching "hug" from Mrs. Harris, the twins equally plump mother.

And then there they were, behind their mothers' skirts.

Speak of the devils.

"Boys! Greet your guest! Miss Constance!"

Oh, god. If I have to hear that name one more time I--I might spit. Andrea absently shuddered with glee at the thought of her uncle after doing such an unexceptable thing.

But, alas, I know not how to spit. Uncle wouldn't even let me walk on the same side of the street as the boys that could, and could teach me.

"Good day, Miss Constance, and welcome!" said one of the twins evilly.

"Go on, dear, up with the boys to the nursery," prodded Mrs. Harris.

Constance got one more look at the door and then glanced almost pleadingly up at her cousin. In return, she got a stern look and a shove in the back towards the boys and the stairs.

"Poor dear, she's a bit shy, I'm afraid." she heard her cousin say as she was literally shoved, dragged and pulled up the stairs.

Coy? I? Ha. I'm no more sheepish then these urchins are human.

She was even talking like her upper class uncle now, she realized sadly.

After an entire day at a place Andrea honestly felt (with a shudder) was the Hell her mother had told her about in the stories from the bible, she was finally permitted to leave. She politely said thank you for having me, just as she had for the compliment on her dress (which was several layered and frilly) and how much she had grown, and how sweet she was, and so on and so forth.

Torture to the greatest extent. So,

As soon as the door was shut, she pretended to fall the rest of the way down the stairs in complete agony, gasping for air and trembling on the ground as if in shock.

"God gracious, Constance! Get off the ground this instance!" Carolyn hissed, surveying the scene to make sure none were watching. "You're embarrassing the family name! And your beautiful dress! Look! It's filthy!"

Constance stopped retching and glared up at her cousin from the street.

"It isn't, Carolyn."

"It is," she responded dryly as she took advantage of Andrea's hesitation.

"Oh! Dear! You must be more careful coming down those stairs! It is the rainy season, you know!" she said rather loudly to cover up Andrea's disgraceful scene.

Andrea rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as Carolyn grabbed her arm rather harshly and dragged her to her feet. On the way up she hissed into Andrea's ear, "Don't ever put me through that again!"

Andrea's mouth dropped open. Put her through something? Ha!

Her thoughts were again interrupted when she heard snickering behind her. She glanced at her cousin to see if she noticed, but she was still to flustered over her cousin's performance and was surveying the "upper-class scene".

Andrea quickly returned her attention to the noise.

It was--it was--

There in front of her, hidden behind crates, boxes and other discarded mess of the New York streets, were two boys of equal or close to age of her own. They were dirt smudged and blended in well with the surroundings. They were still snickering and then seemed surprised when they noticed she had noticed them. Then they smiled and faked whistles and applause with their hands.

They are applauding my performance! She realized. After the initial shock, she started to smile and was going to give them an overly dramatic curtsy when-

"Come, Constance," her cousin said icily.

Andrea stopped in her tracks. She completely forgot the boys. She turned to Carolyn, her arms flat at her sides and her hands in tight fists. Her eyes were narrowed and gleamed with such rage that it almost fazed her cousin.

Almost.

"What did you call me?" she whispered.

Being the six-year-old that she was, Andrea planted her feet into the pavement, prepared to stomp her foot, pout, and throw and all-out tantrum in which she was entirely capable of. She practically shook with pubescent anger. Her fingers began to flex.

Her cousin only gave her a glance before climbing into their carriage and saying "Come along, dear, you have lessons this afternoon."

Lessons? LESSONS! She really want's me to run in front of the next passing carriage, doesn't she?!

She turned on her heels away from the carriage in order to restrain herself from letting out a high pitch screech and bolting for it. Out of the corner of her eye, in the twins' window, she saw two figures pass then turn back.

There stood Toby and Timmy grinning evilly. Andrea grimaced before she saw them both push their chubby faces against the glass, blowing out their cheeks and making other vulgar expressions at her.

Okay, That's it. That's it! I can't take it any more. I'll run amok. I'll---One more thing and I'll-

"Constance! Constance! Get over here immediately or we shall be late!"

2.

Andrea lay pouting sprawled out on her bed, for she was exhausted. As if the "party" and enduring her uncle when Carolyn snitched on her wasn't painful enough, she then had to attend lessons with the grouchy tutor for what seemed like hours on end, and then was sent to her room without supper due to her production on the street earlier that day.

Her mind spun and spewed thoughts of anguish, revenge, exhaustion- all just making her all the more rapped up in her own six-year-old world. She was a caged animal. She was in the prime of her youth! Was she really such a handful? Was she a bad child?

She wouldn't know. She had never had contact, real contact, with other families and children outside their circle since she was sent to New York a year ago to know whether she really was a horrible child--an extra burden--a demon child. Should she be punished?

All that she did know was that she felt neglected- gypped out of a free childhood and attention. And a family. All kids want attention. But how was she to know that.

They hate me. I'm an embarrassment. I want to go outside! I don't want to do lessons! I don't want to wear these dresses, go to parties, drink tea, or-

That was it!, she decided. She would go downstairs, command attention, and demand a change in the way she was treated.

3.

Andrea flew down the narrow streets, not having a conscious clue as to where she was headed. It was dark, and she had no where to stay. The familiar paths of Central Park lay ahead. When she finally was entirely exhausted, and deep inside the park, she slumped up against a tree and took in deep, labored breaths. She knew what was coming. She could feel the sting in the corners of her eyes.

She sobbed for what seemed like most the night. She had no idea where she was going. She had little money, no food, and no idea of what she was going to do. No plans, no friends. She was helpless.

Finally her thoughts turned to her family. As quickly as they came, however, the thoughts disappeared. The fact was, she hardly knew her parents, or her uncle, and he was never around, and when he was, well, you've gotten the idea. Her nurse had been kinder.

Andrea hastily wiped her cheeks dry and put up a pout.

Never again will I cry over them.

From then on, her real family was no longer a part of her thoughts, as she once pretended they were. Her uncle and cousin, not ever a part of her heart. Forever more, they remained only a distant memory. A past. A beginning. Now, she had a new life. Bigger worries. Like how to feed her constantly restless stomach.

She sighed.

She had no idea what she was getting herself into, going from high society to living penniless on the streets of a cold and desperate city. One thing for sure, she would never look back.

4.

One and a half weeks on the street:

Andrea practically flew down the busy cobblestone, hastily running through the crowds, desperately trying to lose the angry officer chasing her closely.

All of this for a loaf of bread?

Oh my god! "Look! Look! There she is!"

Both boys sat up from their perch and watched as a short blond blur blew through the crowd.

Why is she run- oh.

Right behind her the boys noticed was a bull.

The first boy didn't hesitate and jumped down.

"Come on!"

They ran through the crowd, equally as fast, until they collided, literally, with their destination.

The angry officer.

"Hey! Watch it--boys! Move, move! Oh! Wait! You! You! Come ba- Boys!" It was useless. The girl was gone. The boys quickly ducked away into the crowd, as dashing as they had come. He craned his neck, but to no prevail. He huffed out his chest, turned, and preceded on, prowling the streets with new revulsion.

Andy could run no further. She knew if she stopped, however, that cop would catch her, as fat as he was. She turned into an alley and tripped over a crate, hitting the pavement with such force it knocked the wind out of her. Scared, she turned and crawled backward away from the entrance to the alley. She expected the cop to come around the corner at any moment--with his big club--and drag her off to jail.

He didn't come.

But someone else did.

5.

Neeley and Ethan glanced around the corners until they saw the small blond figure cowering in a near by alley. The walked in, smiling, but stopped abruptly when they saw her--covering her face- sniffling--crying.

They stooped down beside her.

Neeley, who like Ethan was feeling entirely uncomfortable by this point, tried to calm her, as best as his six-year-old mind would allow. They had only been comforted by their mothers and had no idea what to do.

"Hey. Hey, goily. It's otay. Da bull's gone. He ain't gonna get cha," he said in a would-be soft voice, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

She slowly stopped shaking and looked under her arm up at them.

"You don't gotta be afraid, goily," Ethan stated, kneeling beside her uneasily.

She sat up and looked at them, whipping her tears away roughly with her sleeves.

"I- I'm not afraid of- of you" she said shakily but with stubborn determination.

In truth, she was scared shitless. But her defenses were on high alert. They didn't need to know that.

They sat and regarded each other silently for a few minutes. Then something occurred to Andrea.

"What- What did ya mean, da cop isn't gonna get me?" she said slowly.

Ethan and Neeley smiled evilly with pride.

"What? Dat cow? We gave 'im a little trouble," Ethan said with a smirk fit for an evil middle-age lawyer.

She sat and let this sink in. Then smiled. And laughed. They smiled back.

"You did what? Why?"

"Oh--well, we a, saw ya runnin', and we- we saw ya before at dat rich joint a week ago-ish-"

A look of recognition lit up on Andrea's face. "Ha! That was you?!"

"Yup," the boys said in unison. They sat silently again for a second, she taking in all of this and they taking in her.

Ethan and Neeley had been the ones to see her in her fancy get-up collapsing purposely in public. They had talked about it the rest of the day, for that matter. They had thought it was brilliant!

Ethan looked back at her. She--she was a mess. She wore an expensive dress- but it was torn, tattered, and dirty. She herself was pale and there were visible sleep circles around her eyes. He decided to shrug it off. For now.

Neeley obviously could not wait. Six-year-olds are not known for there patience, anyway.

"What happened to you?" He said frankly. "We thought you was wit does rich snots."

Andrea took this to heart and scowled at him, backing farther into the alley.

"I ain't. I hate 'em. I never was one of 'em! They're twits wit their heads stuck too far up their bank accounts to see they look like complete fools!"

Neeley and Ethan feel to the ground laughing. She frowned. But a small smile broke out when Ethan stopped and gave her a true grin, of what seemed to be approval.

"But- so, youse on your own, then?" Neeley asked.

Andrea became silent. She looked down at the pavement, avoiding there curious eyes. Would they shun her away? Scowl at her- a street rat- like Carolyn and her uncle and his company had to so many others?

"Yeah--yeah I guess. What of it? I'm doin' fine," she said, getting defensive.

Ethan shrugged and he and Neeley turned and started to leave the alley.

Andrea's face twisted into one of great disappointment as she looked down at the pavement. They don't want to talk to a -

Ethan turned back, confused. Neeley stopped too.

"Well--aren't ya comin' goily?"

Andrea's head shot up.

"You, you want to play wit us, doncha?"

Her face went from emotionless to glowing in record time. "Yes!"

She ran to them, bread forgotten. They exited the alley together, boy on either side.

"He really was a cow, wasn't he?" she said as they turned the corner.

6.

Both laughed and she almost burst with happiness. They stopped abruptly when the nearby church's tower chimed the hour.

10--11--12.

Both boys turned to the other and grinned.

"Quick!"

"To da Park!" They yelled, each grabbing one of the girl's hands and taking off down the streets.

She smiled even more brilliantly at this, although taken by surprise. The streets were busy, and holding hands presented a real challenge, but they never lost their speed. Andrea screamed and the others yelled when they almost ran smack into a horse and other obstacles, but then laughed hysterically and kept running.

They sprinted all the way to the park where they collapsed on a patch of grass and laughed until they could no longer breathe.

7.

Neeley, Andy, and Ethan sat slouched in a row on a bench near the pound, watching the people rush home. All were exhausted and dirty from the day's excursions.

Neeley shielded his eyes and looked towards the sky and setting sun.

"I betta get goin'. Me mum's gonna go up da wall if I'm late fo dinna," Neeley said as he got up and turned to the others. "Bye Eath! See ya around, goily."

Both smiled and waved as he disappeared into the crowd. Ethan sat back and sighed.

"I betta get goin', too, or my mum'll have my head," he said, sincerely sad to see the perfect day end.

"Yeah. Sure." She said, looking out at the horizon.

He got up and took a few steps away, then turned back and looked at her. She sat on the bench, legs pulled up and head on knee.

She felt his stare and looked over.

"Well, I'll see ya, goily- hey! I don't even know ya name!"

She smiled. "It's--It's Andrea."

He smiled. "Ethan."

"See ya, Ethan."

"So long, Andrea."

He disappeared into the crowd, not a care in the world. They never thought of the past. The future. Work, food, the government. Their only concern was how much fun they could fit in one day, with anybody, without a getting in too much trouble.

This day had been good.

He made it home, was hugged by his mother, ate his soup, played with his small toys, did his few chores, let his mother ruffle his hair, smiled, went to bed- all in a blur of normality. His mind floated with the adventures of that day.

Thus, a certain thought did not occur to him until he was safely tucked in and nodding into a blissful sleep. It startled him to full awareness.

Andrea didn't have a home.

8.

Henceforth, for the next week, the three met up in the park- at first on accident, until it unknowingly became a meeting place each morning near noon.

Ethan noticed Andreas condition grow increasingly worse, but she said she was fine, so he willing believed her.

One day, in which Neeley had to go home early, Ethan suggested Andrea come home for dinner with him. She indifferently shrugged, for that was all she was capable of doing with little-to-no energy. She hadn't slept well in weeks, for although the park was friendly during the day, at night, it presented itself as a real nightmare.

So, without much feeling anywhere except her pounding head and aching muscles, Ethan led her by arm to his apartment across town.

Ethan knocked on the door to his first floor tenement, (it was always kept locked), Andrea standing nervously pressed to his side.

The door opened. Inside, a young women, probably in her early twenties, with messy gold hair and a dish rag in hand stood smiling.

"There ya are, Ethan, lad. Where have ya been? But who's this ya have wit ya, boyo?"

"Please, please may she stay for dinna? Please? Dis- (he said ignoring the first question, then stopping and taking her small hand) -is Andrea."

Katie Mackenzie studied the small girl her dirt-smudged son had brought home. Never before had he brought a friend back to the appartment- but he had spoken of his new heroine friend. She looked at- Andrea, was it?- and felt a small pang of love and concern towards the child. She's so thin, and pale- but such a pretty little thing. Oh dear! She looks as if she hasn't eaten or slept well in days! I wonder! Does she live on the stre-

Andrea still stood next to Ethan, too tired to be scared and to weak to be polite. She sneezed and gave a small quiver unconsciously.

Katie sprang back to attention, quickly concealing her watery eyes. "Oh, goodness! Quick, come in, out of the wind! Of course she can stay for dinner, Eath. " She pulled them in and walked them into the main room of the apartment, then to the kitchen.

"Come, sit sit!" she said motioning to the table. Ethan led Andrea to a seat.

"Your father wont be home tonight, of course- Ethan! Look at you!" she said pulling him aside roughly, fixing his hair and wiping his face with her hand and spit in that motherly way. He squirmed to get away.

"Mum! Please!"

She laughed. Andrea fought to stay awake as her head nodded towards the table and gave the faintest smile at the sight.

After some small talk and other such things between the two, Katie finally brought soup and bread to the table. Andreas nose and face had been perking up from the smell ever since she had entered the kitchen, and now that it was in front of her, she practically dove right in.

Katie smiled as she quietly watched the two children eat the soup as if it were their last. "Well, I can tell you two had a busy day- honestly Ethan! You'd think I never fed you! And you! You must really hate my soup!" she said giggling at Andrea.

Andrea honored her with her first real smile and sound of the night. "It's possibly the best soup I eva tasted, Ma'am!"

Katie sat down on the couch quietly, for there on the floor in front of her sat her beautiful son Ethan, fast asleep, his collected knick-knacks on display in front of him . And there, leaning her small blond head on the couch next to her, was little Andy, as Ethan had later called her.

She smiled and closed her eyes, picturing Andy's glitter as Ethan gave her the nickname. Oh, they were two of a kind, they were. And it surprised Katie how much Andy looked like one of the family. Same Irish face, same light blond hair (like her own). Katie wasn't completely sure were she came from, but she was almost positive the poor little angel had been found by Ethan on the streets. How anyone could abandon or not love such a cute little thing was inconceivable for her. She herself had already found herself falling for the sweet little girl who could tame her Ethan. For Ethan was her pride and joy- her life and reason for living. If he liked her enough to bring her here, to me-

Suddenly, Andy's small figure quivered on the floor. Katie looked upon her, concern clearly displayed on her tired face. Lord knows what that poor child has been through on these streets. She had hardly said a word to her, but from what she heard from the kitchen, her and Ethan were holding fairly long conversations.

Katie lifted Andy to the couch and the small girl unconsciously nestled into Katie's side. Katie sighed. She'd never be able to let this small thing go back out to the streets. Andy shivered again, then stirred and jumped with a start at not knowing her surroundings.

Katie put a hand to her cheek to calm her. Andy looked her sparkling blue eyes into Katie's and gave her a pained look before smiling. She stopped and whispered,

"You're Ethan's mommy?"

Katie only nodded.

"He's-He's very lucky," Andy whispered with all her sincere child innocence. She nestled back into Katie's side and feel easily back to sleep.

This was too much for Katie Conlon Mackenzie. Her lip began to quiver.

Oh, if she had any power in this household, she would take the girl in- keep her here and make her a Mackenzie, she thought as tears weld in her eyes. But that would prove most difficult, for she had little power or say in that house- except perhaps what they would be having for dinner. Mr. Mackenzie- Cor- had all the say and more- depending on what kind of force he used.

But maybe, just maybe, if she caught him at the right time- and if Andy was okay with it- but of course she would be! She'd just nurse Andy back to health on small visits and when she was well, she would present her to Cor. And-

Katie's thoughts continued on for much of the night, all returning to one intention: that she would keep little Andrea, no matter what.

Ethan continued to bring Andy home on a regular basis after that, when his father was not home, and 'Miss Katie' always welcomed her with open arms. Mr. Mackenzie knew nothing of Andrea, for if he did, she would not be permitted to return. Katie wouldn't see this, for she had just started getting little Andy back to health, letting her sleep in Ethan's room on nights Mr. Mackenzie would not be returning home. Plus, Andy had obviously become Ethan's best friend, and this, more than anything, made Katie's heart skip a beat.

During those wonderful summer days, Andy and Ethan would leave the house at the crack of dawn, heading out into the world to have fun and create mischief.

To Andy, this was heaven in a very real state. It was what she had always dreamed of, and this one boy, Ethan, had made it all possible. Katie was like the mother she never really had.

As they walked down the street together, she practically glowed in happiness.

"Hey Andy. Ya wanna go swimmin' near da docks taday? We can go 'fore we meet Neeley in da park," Ethan said airily one morning a few weeks after he had taken her home for the 1st time.

"Soir! Race ya?!"

"Ah, nah- I don't feel like it-"

"Come on!" she egged him.

"Nah. It's too hot- GO!" he took off at a run, leaving her surprised in the dust. She took off after him, yelling this and that but laughing along with him.

Upon reaching the docks, Ethan collapsed in a heap of laughter and exhaustion. Andy, who ended up being right on his heel, tripped over his legs and landed with a thud sprawled out next to him.

This only made him laugh more. "Beat ya!" he teased when he regained his breath.

"Like hell ya did, cheata! Beat this!" She turned over, leaning on top of him, and started to tickle his sides and middle relentlessly.

"Oh, please! Stop! STOP! No more! No more!" he said gasping and clutching his stomach.

She smirked at him, a smirk she herself had picked up from him. A look that said "Here I am. Now, what of it?" It was an all knowing challenge in itself, that smirk, and now they shared it. He finally kicked her off, and they laughed as they stood up and made their way to the end of the dock.

That morning was one to remember. Neither had had so much fun in all their lives, they were sure, and what hit Ethan then, Andy had known since the moment he said "ya don't need ta be afraid" that very first day.

It struck him like lightning or a load of bricks. There, in the water, just coming up from being dunked by Andy, he sputtered and then smiled as he watched her laugh and swim away. The smile faltered for a moment as he watched the sun catch her hair in the dirty, though refreshing, East River.

He, just for a moment, realized how happy he was with her. How lucky he was to have her. And in that moment, unconsciously, he realized he wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.

"Come on, Mackenzie! My clothes are goin' outa style!" she called from the ladder leading back up the dock.

His smile was replaced and widened to a length unimaginable before he began to swim after her, yelling, "They already are, McGregg-"

"Shutup!"

Of course all of that took place after what really made both Ethan and Neeley realize she was a keeper and, thus, worthy of their boyhood friendship.

Most mornings, before they met Andy at twelve at the park, the two boys would head to designated back streets and alleys that the other boys met, engaging in what they fondly called "war".

In those alleys, the boys would duke it out, surrounded by a circle of others, fighting until they could no more. Naturally, blood was often shed.

Consequently, girls were not allowed, or in better terms, never found anywhere near these masculine scrambles.

Ethan and Neeley rarely engaged in the actual combat, but Neeley once came away with a shiner the color of an Arizona sunset because he got in the way of two boys arguing over a bet made on the current brawlers.

He strutted around for two weeks, in fact, like a grade-A war vet.

Well, one particular morning after such an event, the two boys left early, heading towards the direction of the park, talking about the day's event and the competitors. They walked through the disserted alleys, not paying particular attention to their surroundings.

All at once, without any warning, they were startled to find someone else there when a slithering voice boomed,

"Now looky here boys- a couple of snot-nosed punks have wandered into our little meetin'."

The voice belonged to a terribly tall boy, looking to be about 16 or 17, who, although for his age looked relatively scrawny, was huge to any six-year-old.

"I-I -I- we're sorry, sir- we-"

"Shut up!" he shot back.

"How long ya been heah? How much ya heard?" yelled another sharply.

"Na- Nothing, sir-"

"Liar! You-"

"Come down, Stips. Lets handle this like civilized adults that wese area..." he said, all the others slowly stepping menacingly towards the two youngsters like their leader.

Neeley and Ethan, petrified, tried to back away.

"Now, perhaps we should teach youse a little lesson on trespassin'... and ease droppin'-"

"Run!" yelled Neeley. Ethan didn't need to be told.

Both turned and tried to escape, but were immediately pummeled from behind. Two boys grabbed Neeley and each took a turn punching him in the stomach.

Ethan got about two steps further than his companion before someone jumped him from behind and then flipped him over.

"Lousy kid!" the person hissed in Ethan's now dirty, dazed, and fear-stricken face.

Boom!

One immense jab to the face. Ethan's head flew back, and before the pain really registered, he heard a noise that seemed to distract the others.

His head span, and the pain roared through him with a blinding white light. But another blow didn't come. He was then dimly aware of the fact that the pressure of the other boy sitting on top of him was relieved and the stomping of feet running away surrounded him.

What is that noise? A... A... a whistle.

Like a cop's.

The alley became quiet and deserted.

"Uuuueeeeeeeeggggggh," groaned Neeley, who, after the bullies had let go of him, had staggered slightly and then collapsed to the ground, clutching his stomach and wincing.

Ethan rolled over on to his side. A small trickle of blood ran from his nose.

What had happened? Who saved them? Wait- there was a whistle... like a cops. We gotta get away from... But... where's-

Suddenly they heard footsteps from the shadows enter the alley. Neeley didn't bother to look up, feeling that there was no escape and that they would be in the refuge by suppertime. Ethan craned his neck over to see what was coming.

The first thing to come into the sunlight and view was a hand. A hand outstretched and spinning a chain with a whistle around and around a finger lazily.

The hand was attached to an arm, and the arm, surprisingly enough, was attached to none other than their rescuer.

"Fancy meeting you heah," said the voice casually with a slight laugh to it.

Neeley's eyes shot open and he turned over quickly in shock at what he had just heard. Ethan sat up abruptly and his eyes nearly popped out.

"I don't believe it."

"Andy?!" yelled Ethan in complete surprise and disbelief.

Andy smiled evilly. "No. It's da chief o' police. Of course it's me, dumb ass."

"But... But what are you doing?"

"I'm knitting a sweater. What does it look like I'm doing?" she said as she walked over between them and knelt down. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" she said smirking.

She turned to Ethan and he scowled playfully at her. She carefully brought her hand up to his face and examined it with worried eyes. "You alright?"

He shrugged.

Then the worry disappeared and a smile returned. "One thing's fo sure. You gonna have a nasty spot dere tomorrow!"

"Yeah, yeah. Shutup."

She smirked and turned to Neeley. "How 'bout you? You okay?"

"Sure. I'll live."

"Super. But let's go, alright? 'Case they come back."

And there they went, the three of them, injured warrior on either side of their Florence Nightingale. Not until later that night, when the rest of the building was fast asleep and Andy was nodding off on the floor by the foot of Ethan's bed did he sit up, walk over, and kneel by her head and whisper, "Andy. Hey Andy!"

"Hmmm?"

"Hey, ah...thanks."

"Hmm," she sighed, nestling into her pillow. "Night Eath," she whispered, even after he was sure she hadn't heard a word he'd said. She was asleep now, that was for sure.

"Night, Andy," he breathed as he laid back down in bed and shut his eyes.

And then that day in the river, more than ever, he realized he liked her as much as a sister, and thought of her as one. She had become part of the family without any of the three really realizing it. And both Katie and Ethan aimed to keep it that way.

Later that very week, Katie decided it was time to introduce her husband to the little imp that had been sneaking in her son's window after nightfall to sleep on the floor (with her permission, naturally.) That day, while he was at work, she gave Andy a bath and sat her on the floor in the middle of the front room while she French-braided her hair into two braids on either side of her head. No one had ever done this to Andy before, and she like the tingle she felt when Katie, who felt like her mother, ran her thin fingers through her hair.

Do you know that single picture you get of somebody in your head whenever you think of them? The one that's the same every time, even though their appearance may have changed drastically since that image was embedded into your mind?

That was exactly as Andy looked- perfect with those blond, French-pigtail-braids and cute ski-jump nose. It was an image that would be indefinitely imbedded into Katie and Ethan's minds, anyway. That charming blue-eyed six-year-old whom each had come to love, sarcastic mouth and all.

But Andy was no fool. And neither was Ethan. Andy had become accustomed to hearing Mr. Mackenzie come home late at night, and then pick a fight with his innocent young wife. At first, Ethan had flinched when this came, as if embarrassed that Andy should hear it, but then, as time went on and it happened more frequently, she proved to be a savior.

On nights when he came home in such rage that you could hear his unholy words boom through the thin walls of the tenement, and things became obviously physical, Andy would quietly crawl into bed with Ethan. She'd press up to him, wrap her small child arms around his middle, and bury his soft dirty-blond head into hers. Every time he flinched to the sound of his mothers pained voice, she'd hold him tighter, letting him know she was there for him.

On nights when it got so unbearable that the tough boy she had grown to respect began to weep, she would hum to him songs that echoed the streets of old Brooklyn, so obviously sacred.

And although Ethan never forgot these times, never once were they talked about in the open. Too painful were the memories that came along with it.

So why should this night be any different? both thought. Cor never agreed on anything his wife thought up on her own. He was suppose to be the brains and thinker of the house- certainly not a woman. So why would he agree to having a street child come into their home when it was Katie's idea?

But Katie had a plan. And that was to only introduce the child to Cor that night- not yet suggest that the child stay for good. As time went on, she would hope that he would warm up to Andy, and have the idea hinted at him form time to time.

That night, Ethan "invited" his friend Andrea over for dinner to meet him. Everything went relatively problem-free, Ethan's little friend had refined matters and was clean and sweet looking in her plain blue dress and blond braids. And Ethan's father was all but sober and decent throughout the meal. Although conversation was somewhat stiff, it was not uncomfortable, and after dinner, Andrea was escorted outside by Ethan on her way "home". An hour later, she unlocked his window to his room with the small key she left hanging around her neck on a small ribbon. She climbed into bed with him, like she did near every night now, and both slept pleasantly till the new day.

In the weeks to come

"Eath?"

No answer.

"Ethan?"

Still nothing.

Andy peered further into the window that she had just previously unlocked and cracked open. His small room was empty and exceedingly silent and untouched. He had not come out that morning, and did not show in the park later. Curious, and somewhat unconsciously worried, Andy returned to his house and had made for the fire escape out back.

Everything appeared normal but there- his blanket was torn from the bed, strewn towards the door. Something about this, as harmless as it might seem, bothered Andy deep into her six-year-old soul. Something about it wasn't right and she knew it.

Quiet as a mouse, Andy climbed through the window and made her way across the room. Peeking around the corner, she snuck a glance at the front room.

A tiny squeak exited her lips, and she pulled back out of sight, pressing her small body rigidly against the wall beside her as if life depended on it. Quickly her hand rose to her mouth to muffle her heavy/rapid breaths.

Mrs. Katie was on the floor- not moving. Ethan sat next to her back to the hall, rocking back and forth.

And Mr. Mackenzie stood by the door, swaying awkwardly towards the frame.

"What the hell are you doing, boy? I sa-said getta-way from 'er- I- dammit boy! Listen to me when I'm talkin' to ya-" Bam! The sound of flesh hitting flesh and a loud thump coming in contact with the floor echoed through the room and small hall were Andy listened.

"Papa, I-"

"You shut up, dammit! You and that damn woman- I got the mind ta-"

Andy's small hands clasped over her ears as she rocked back and forth on her heals in a vain effort to wipe out the entire scene's existence.

"-No! Papa! Please! What's wrong with Mama? What did you-"

"-Me? Dammit! You son of a- I'm gonna teach you and that woman to mind me once and- get over here! Get away from her you- I'm gonna"

Smack!

Andy had it. The fuse was blown. And she was scared- scared shitless. No one, no one, hurt her Ethan. Ever. Without even thinking or hearing the actual context of much of the above conversation, she ran out, grabbed one of the planks Mr. Mackenzie had brought in from the streets for firewood, and smacked him upside the back of the head with all her tiny might. He collapsed in surprise next to Ethan, whom he had been just about to take his knife to, much to the surprise and luck of Andy. She and Ethan both gasped for their different reasons. Both called out each others name simultaneously, then was at a loss for words.

No words were needed however, for as soon as he had fallen to the floor (which remarkably was only seconds before) he was staggering up again, more pissed then ever.

"What the hell- You! You little wench!"

And the knife, which had never left his grimy hand, reached out the few feet to her. Ethan jumped up and went to grab for it, but only got cut in the process.

She never took notice of the weapon however, as her initial reaction was to continue swinging the already elevated board, which had been returned to the air right after the first hit had made contact.

"Nobody hurts my friend!" she said through clenched teeth as she let loose.

Before Cor could even make contact with her, or even fully regain his balance, the board hit him in the side of the neck/head and he collapsed to the floor in one huge mound.

Mr. Mackenzie did not stir, and Andy immediately made her way to Ethan, rushing to his side and clutching him as he did her- with no intention of letting go anytime soon. Both quickly stood and backed toward the door. They turned- still scared and unsure whether he would wake then- and ran right out the front door and down the steps.

They ran and ran, tears streaming down cheeks, without any sense of direction or destination just to get away. Far, far away.

And in the midst of it all, somehow his hand had found hers.

Two pairs of little legs hung motionless through the small hole in the middle of the rickety dock, dangling feet above the cool river water. Both were silent and morose, until the little lass of the pair looked up at the lad sorrowfully, and said, after a spell, "Oh, I am sorry, Eath."

He looked up, briskly wiping away tearstains on his face with his sleeve, and frowned wrathfully.

"What are sorry for, Andy- it wasn't your fault!" He said loud and exasperated. She flinched at his words and looked back down, small blond hairs falling into her tiny face. This made him more sad, and sorry. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Andy�I just�I just hate him! I hate him!" He yelled viciously.

She nodded at the dock, a few more unseen tears falling onto its ruff surface.

"I hate that I have anything to do with him!" he continued. "I hate that we are the same�are related�share the same name!"

"You aren't, Ethan. You aren't like him, I know!" she said earnestly in her innocent voice. "You shan't be related. You�You should change it!"

"Change what?" he said lazily, looking up from the planks at her.

"Eh, what was your mum's name before she married, er, Mr. Mackenzie?" she said inquisitively.

"Um, Conlon, I guess," he said slowly.

She looked him over. "Ethan Conlon�hmm," she muttered, hand rubbing her dirty cheek.

"Hey! Hey! That's good! I love me mum! I only need be part of 'er! Right?"

Andy smiled a bright, although weak, smile at his happiness in such a time, glad to be of any help to him.

It became quiet again, as all that had taken place really sunk in, with clear minds to think it over. Ethan's mind wandered back to the final moments, when Andy had run in, from nowhere it seemed, and hit his father over the head with the plank�saving him. Oh, how brave she was, he thought with a loud sigh/heave. "Nobody hurts my friend!" she had yelled�oh, Andy.

He looked up at her, slowly and awkwardly. She sat inches across from him, picking quietly at the wood with her small hand. A surge of gratitude washed over him, and his vision momentarily clouded.

She glanced up at him, finally, feeling his stare, and looked back into his earnest blue/gray eyes. Her facial expression changed to question him.

"You're�you're my best friend," he whispered at her, glancing shyly up through his hair that fell into his eyes. This usually bothered him, but he praised it now.

She immediately flushed, and though she tried hard to contain it, a small smile spread across her face as she quickly became fascinated again with the bit of wood.

"You're mine, too," she whispered quietly.

(The reader, that's you, would now have to sit back, and realize how awful a real life experience of this magnitude would be, especially to six-year-olds, and hopefully appreciate the sweet innocence and sincerity that young children have that shines through. or just don't gag at the cheesy-ness, either way, it's very sweet, and to fully grasp how they will change in character- from sweet and innocent to such a bitter toughness- (which you will see later)- this section is very important.)

"Why did you do it?" Ethan asked suddenly, after much silence.

"What do ya mean, why? You off your ground, boyo?" she said, the first smirk of the day showing through. "You're like�me brotha!" she said sincerely.

He looked up at her, and fixed her with a hard stare. Finally he smiled. "Yeah, guess you like me sister too." He stated, agreeing with the idea full-heartedly. "Wish ya were," he whispered to himself, meanwhile wiping his face with his hand.

Andy gasped.

"Oh, I completely forgot," she stated ruefully, grabbing his right hand tenderly, as only a sister would, entirely forgetting the serious conversation just passed.

The small tanned hand lay limply in hers, in surprise, as she turned it over and examined it. Blood slowly gushed out of a small slash wound from the knife when he had attempted to grab it away. A small smear of it was on his cheek.

He frowned, the pain now becoming reality and first-most concern in his mind as it received attention. "Ouch!" he cried, pulling it away after she touched gently. She frowned, and a small tear fell from his eye in his distress.

Suddenly, without much prompt or rational thought, an idea struck Andy, and being only six, she ran with it before even heeding it another second. From inside the inner pocket of her skirt, Andy scrambled to pull a very tiny switchblade, which Katie had given her after a particularly alarming night in the park. She flipped open the weapon; Ethan's pained though curious eyes watched carefully, wondering what she could possibly mean to do.

With a much-determined face, Andy slowly brought the knife down to the palm of her small left hand, eyes shut tightly.

"Andy! What are you-"

She flinched and gave a silent hiss of pain as she pulled her wounded hand in towards her body, clenching it in a tight fist.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and then her hand, and looked at the cut with much surprise, as if astounded that she actually did such a thing (which I can not blame her for).

Ethan's face was similar, although it quickly became angry and confused. "What are you playing at, huh? What-"

She looked at him, much admiration in those glittery blue eyes, and gave him a gaze that immediately made him stop and stare, completely taken aback. She reached across the cavity and took is crimson hand in hers, and squeezed tightly, her eyes never leaving his.

He looked at her, silently, and they sat for a good minute that way; him looking wholly confused and she grinning happily like hyena on Christmas holiday.

The smile became infectious, and after a short while of glaring at it, Ethan began to grin in return, perhaps in the moment of complete puzzlement. "What are we at?" he said wistfully mimicking his mother , as it seemed appropriate to whisper.

"Oh, see, Conlon! We are brothers! Blood brothers! Well," she said shyly, looking down, "brother and sister, really."

She looked back up at him, and as it sunk in, he smiled broadly and laughed, and she did too.

"So we are! We share the same blood!"

And he believed it, too, all the way down to the deepest and dearest part of his heart and soul. He wanted it- he wanted it so bad for her to be his real sister, and this, this act of bravery and the recent events, made him all the more proud to make it true.

And as both were so young and naive, they did presume it was true; that such things could be done, and that they did share the same blood.

Quietly, without another word, Andy ripped two strips from the bottom hem of her skirt, despite protests, and carefully (while grimacing something awful at her own pain) tied a piece to her brothers hand. Then he did the same to her.

They got up, silently, and walked back towards the land, knowing that they needed to go back, as scared as they were, for their mother was there, and in possible need of their help. Hand in hand again, for it is not of shame to walk hand in hand with your sibling, they made their way back through the maze of streets until they returned to the apartment.

"Lets�lets go in the back way�whataya think?"

"Yeah, sure," he whispered back.

more to come...