**Niko**

I woke to find my little sister, Nina, asleep next to me, cuddled up against my side.  Her dark head rose and fell on my chest with the rhythm of my breathing.   The clock beside my bed read 6:00 am, earlier than either of us needed to be up.  It was Sunday, our third day in Tulsa.  Tomorrow we'd start school, Nina in the sixth grade at the elementary school, me a senior at the high school.

Somehow I managed to extract myself from my sister and stood, stretching.  The sun was already up, as it was the middle of March, and I could feel the warm spring sun streaming through the window.  After a quick check to make sure my aunt was still asleep, I went into the bathroom and quietly closed the door.  I studied my face in the mirror for a long moment, wondering what people saw when they looked at me.  High cheekbones, pointed chin, light blue eyes, and white-blond hair that hangs between my shoulders and my chin.  Mom always told me I looked like a mischievous little elf.  Or at least, she did when I was a kid.

I stepped into the shower, closing my eyes as the warm water poured over my body.  I stayed in the shower just long enough to wash my hair and rinse the soap off the walls.  Carefully, I stepped out, making sure not to drip any water on the floor as I dried off and threw on a clean pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt.  After brushing my teeth and combing my hair, I grabbed everything that was mine and opened the door to head back to me and Nina's room.

I was startled to find my Aunt Charlotte standing outside the bathroom door, looking angry.  "Nikolas Thatcher, what do you think you are doing?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, bowing my head and swallowing hard.  "I tried to be out before you got up…"

"Sorry isn't good enough," she said nastily.  "The deal is you and that little brat stay out of my way.  I don't want to know you're even here.  I took you in as a favor to my sister, that tramp."  Anger swelled in me, but I did not reply.  My mother's sister stood there, staring at me for a moment before pushing past me and into the bathroom.  The door slammed closed and I was alone in the hall.  With a sigh, I went back to my room, silently cursing my mother for the state she'd left us in.

When I entered the room, Nina was sitting up in my bed, hugging her knees to her chest.  She looked scared and sad, and I knew right away that she'd heard the conversation between my aunt and me in the hall.  Sitting on the bed, I pulled her against me and she leaned into my side.  We sat like that for a couple of minutes, comforting each other.

Nina was small and skinny, and looked younger than eleven.  I sometimes wondered how we could be related at all, given her dark looks.  Her skin was naturally a lot darker than mine, even more so when she was tanned from the California sun we'd left just a few days before.  Her black eyes matched her jet black hair, which she usually wore loose, hanging halfway down her back, thick and straight.

"Niko, why don't anyone want us?" she asked in a small voice, using the nickname my mother had called me by since I was born.  "Don't they like us?"

"They don't want to be burdened," I said lightly, ignoring her second question.  "Don't you worry though, in a couple months I'll graduate and then I'll get us a place of our own, just you and me."  Instead of smiling at the thought, she looked even sadder.

"It's my fault, isn't it."  It was a sad statement, not a question.  "I keep getting us into trouble.  It's my fault we got kicked out by Uncle Pete, and Aunt Mary, and Uncle Frank, and Grandmother Rose…"  I didn't know how to respond.  She was right, in a way.  See, Nina's not 'pure'.  She's half Mexican.  Mom's side of the family can't stand that she married a Mexican and had a kid with him, and so after they died, we got passed around like an unwanted piece of furniture.

"Look, little one," I said firmly, bending over so I could look right in her eyes.  "It ain't your fault that no one liked Mom and Dad getting married.  And it sure as hell ain't your fault that none of them can look past that and accept us.  So don't you go blaming yourself, you're not the one being an idiot here."  She nodded, then gave me a small smile.  I hugged her and told her, "Now get dressed.  I'm gonna go see what I can do about breakfast."

**Pony**

We were out on the porch, smoking and chatting, like old times. It was Sunday, so everyone was there.   I felt a twinge of sadness as I looked around at what was left of the gang: me, my brothers, Two-Bit and Steve.  We were it.  Two-Bit was busy cracking some joke when suddenly he let out a holler and turned swiftly.  A moment later he shoved a small figure onto the porch ahead of him, holding tightly onto the kid's wrist.

"Two-Bit?" Soda said, looking confused.

"This kid here was trying to swipe my blade," Two-Bit growled, shaking the kid slightly.  He winked at us, and I knew he was just trying to scare the kid.  From what I could see, it was working.

"You better leave me alone!" the kid squeaked, sounding scared.  "You hurt me an' I'll get my big brother to beat you up!"  He continued to make threats as he twisted and pulled, trying to get free of Two-Bit's grip.  He was pretty small, dressed in dirty jeans, a black t-shirt, and a jean jacket, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face.  I was pretty sure I hadn't seen him around before.

Just then the kid got loose, and tried to make a run for it.  Steve grabbed one of the kid's arms, and Two-Bit grabbed the other, trying not to hurt the kid even as he put up a fight.  In the midst of it all, the kid's hat got knocked off, letting locks of black hair tumble loose.  We all froze.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, the first to find my voice.  "He's a she!"

"Get your hands off her!" a voice yelled from the sidewalk.  The six of us turned to see a guy run up the front lawn.  He snatched the kid away from Steve and Two-Bit and shoved her behind him.  The guy, about seventeen years old, stood there, tensed, glaring at us, almost daring us to lay another hand on the girl.  My jaw dropped open when I looked at his face.

"D-Dally?" I managed, utterly and completely shocked.

A/N: Just a quick question for my readers: what's a beta?  Is that a proofreader?  If it is, I probably need one.  Any volunteers?  Email me or say something when you review.