(A/N: This fic is rather strange, but I hope you enjoy… -Demon Kaos)

Andrea Toulon was eight when her father, Frederic, introduced her to the Toulon Family puppets. It was her birthday and she had been searching the house for her presents when she came across an old chest. It was brown and ancient, hidden away in her father's workshop. Turning the latch, she expected to find a special toy. Instead, there were dolls she had never seen before. She screamed when one turned its head towards her.

Frederic came running into the back room of his workshop. Andrea was staring in wonder at the puppets walkingo n their own in front of her. The carved wooden faces looked up at him as he sat on the floor beside his daughter.

"Daddy, they move without strings," Andrea whispered when her father pulled her into his lap.

"Yes, Andy," Frederic whispered back. "They're special puppets."

"Did you make them," her face brightened.

"No. They were made a long time ago, with lots of magic."

"Wow! Really?" Andrea sat on the floor again, looking closer at the line of puppets.

"Yes, really," Frederic smiled, watching his daughters amazement. "They all have names, too."

"What are they," she asked excitedly.

With another smile, her father bagan the introductions. "Well, let's see. This one with the big arms is called Pin Head."

"Hello," Andrea beamed. A big gloved hand opened up to her and she shook it warmly with one finger.

"And this one with the colorful hat is Jester."

Andrea grinned in glee was Jester's face spun around into a smile.

"The one with six arms is Six-Shooter."

Six-Shooter tipped his hat to her. Andrea bowed her head slightly.

"And finally, this fellow with the knife for a hand is Blade."

Crossing his knife and hook, Blade saluted Andrea.

"And this, my little friends," Frederic said to the four puppets. "Is my darling daughter, Andrea Toulon."

A cacophony of gutteral sounds arose from the wooden images, raising a giggle from the little girl.

"They have been in our family for many generations," Andrea's father explained. "They protect us when needed and check us if we grow too power hungry with our magical abilities. One day they will be your sole responsibility, but for now, if you're very careful, they can be your secret playmates."

"Oh, really, Daddy," Andrea practically squealed.

"Well, if the puppets don't mind being seen with you," Frederic joked.

"Can we play together, pretty little puppets? Can we?"

The puppets all nodded enthusiastically as Andrea patted them all on their heads. Frederic laughed and said, "Okay, then. But right now, you have a birthday party to get ready for and your new friends need their rest."

Andrea pouted slightly as she helped her father put the puppets back in the case. Frederic picked her up and carried her back toward the house.

"I love those puppets, Daddy," Andrea said. "But you know who my favorite is?"

"Who, Andy?"

"Blade," she replied quietly. "But don't let the others know."

"Why is Blade your favorite," Frederic asked worried.

"He must be very brave to live all those years without hands."

Frederic chuckled lightly, kissing Andrea's forehead. "That is a very nice way to put it."

A few weeks later, Andrea cradled Blade carefully in her arms as she pulled the other puppets in her wagon. The babysitter stopped short at the sight.

"Did your dad make these," the babysitter asked.

"No," Andrea replied. "They've been in the family for a long time."

"Oh, well they are…" the babysitter tried to find a polite word. "Interesting."

Andrea walked away, down the hall to her room. As the wagon disappeared through the door, the babysitter thought she saw the last doll's head turn.

In the room, Andrea sat Blade down while the others hopped out of the wagon. She looked around a bit anxiously.

"What can we play?"

Her eyes fell on Six-Shooter and she smiled. "How about cops and robbers? Blade and Pin Head can be the crooks and Jester, at least this time, can be the person being robbed, and, of course, Six-Shooter is the sheriff, but no real bullets in the house please. And I can be…I can be the damsel in distress that has to choose between the good sheriff and the not-so-good crooks. What do you say to that?"

Small, grunted approvals sounded as the puppets nodded.