Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.

-_-_-_

Liverpool, England.

That Sandy Pilkes was an absolute wanker, who deserved to be drawn and quartered, fed to ravenous Venus fly-traps, and drowned in the Mersey just for good measure. Besides, he came from a fairly affluent family and almost always had something shiny and of decent value on his person, making him the perfect target. Fifteen year-old Bee was pretty enough to distract the seventeen year-old, but she would rather lay in wait as her twin brother, Arlo, drew their unsuspecting victim's attention by telling jokes or pulling odd faces. Pilkes was a blundering idiot, so it was relatively easy for Bee to sneak up and slip her hand into his jacket pocket as she brushed past him.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she said in her most innocent voice. "I just noticed that my brother here was bothering you, so I came to retrieve him."

"'S'alright," said Sandy, his greedy, shiny eyes sliding over Bee's body, particularly her chest which was significantly more defined now than it had been a year ago. "'T'weren't no trouble."

Bee wanted to gag under the scrutiny of his disgusting, lustful gaze, but she smiled her best smile and politely turned to leave, Arlo in tow. When they were a safe distance away, the two huddled together to see what Bee had pinched from the loathsome prig. Arlo gave a low whistle at the object in her hands.

"A sonic filter. That'll fetch a pretty penny," he said appreciatively.

Bee frowned slightly. "What's a penny?"

"Dunno," Arlo replied with an accompanying shrug. "Read it in a book once. I think it was money."

"Doesn't sound like a good name for a coin." Bee knew that there used to be hundreds of different currencies all over the world at one time, but now everyone used Federation credits, and she couldn't imagine the hassle people used to have to deal with over bothersome little details such as exchange rates.

"Well, whatever it was, it means we're going to get a nice little sum for this."

Bee nodded. Sonic filters were by no means uncommon, but they were useful for things like protecting the ears against loud noises or filtering out pesky sounds such as rambunctious children, a neighbor's dog barking at three in the morning, or a teacher droning on and on in a stifling classroom.

They rounded the corner and walked down two more blocks before coming to the pawn shop. The owner undoubtedly knew of their scheming and illegally acquired items, but he kept a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy. They knew he'd sell it for twice what he gave them for it anyway.

"Morning, Mr. Bruner," Arlo said pleasantly.

The old man, crooked and bent by time and hard work in his old age as many elderly Liverpudlians were, looked up at them. He didn't smile, but motioned for them to come to the counter.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite set of twins," he drawled. "And what do you have for me today?"

"Sonic filter," said Arlo. "Like new."

Bee hesitantly handed it over for Bruner to inspect. A few moments later, he set it down on the counter and drew a safe box from the shelf. He typed in an electronic code and complied with voice command, and the lid popped open with an approving beep.

"I'll give you ten credits," he said.

Arlo shook his head. He was good at haggling. "It's practically new, worth at least fifty credits. We won't take less than twenty-five."

"Fifteen," Bruner offered.

"Twenty."

"Done." Bruner sighed and grudgingly handed over the money. "Now get out of here. The authorities have already come by twice today, and they've been keeping eyes on you two. I can't have you seen in my shop."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Bee called over her shoulder.

Smiling to themselves, the twins left the shop and headed home. They lived in the older part of Liverpool, the part that still reeked of centuries of business in the fishing industry. No matter what they did to the city, there was still that musky, fishy smell. So that's where the officials put the slums. Their family lived in a three-room apartment, consisting of a bedroom, a bathroom, and the largest room which served as the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The kitchenette stood in a corner. The whole place was small, and it was a bit of a squeeze for everyone, but it was clean at least, and fishy odor wasn't so bad when they opened the one window while the breeze was blowing.

"Hullo, Mum," they greeted their mother.

"Hullo, dears. How was your day?" Jane Bell was seated at the small table, the sleeping baby in one arm, the hand of the other busily typing figures into her keyscreen.

"Productive." Bee stepped forward and placed their recently acquired twenty credits on the table. She bent and kissed her mother and then the baby.

"Where did you get all that?" Jane asked suspiciously.

Bee shrugged. "Found something interesting. Pawned it."

"Now listen here, you two," their mother said sternly. "I know things are hard right now, but you've got honest jobs –"

"Honest jobs that don't pay shit," Arlo muttered.

"Language, son," she said. She sighed. "I just don't want you two getting into trouble. I'm doing accounts for people at home, but it doesn't pay well, and without your father, I really need all your help."

"So these extra twenty credits aren't helping?" Bee asked, slightly angry.

Jane sighed again. "It does help, dear. Thank you. Really. I just don't want it becoming a habit with you two. It'll all catch up to you one day, you know."

"Don't worry, Mum," said Arlo. He bent and kissed her cheek. "We'll keep out of trouble."

She smiled at them both. It was a lie, and she knew it, but he had to say it, and she had to pretend to believe it. No, there was no pretend about it. She believed it because it kept the balance, got them through to the end of every month, fed the baby.

Bee went to the far wall and typed in a few numbers of the city keyscreen. The weather forecast for the rest of the week came up, as well as news headlines and entertainment programs. She pressed a few more keys and the screen went blank. Crossing the room again, she knelt by a small bookcase and pulled out a dusty copy of Jane Eyre. Books were getting rarer and rarer every day since most people read them on their personal keyscreens anyway.

Music drifted through the open window. Mr. Harlan upstairs had a piano. Maybe he'd let her play later that evening.

Arlo stormed into the tiny bedroom and threw himself on the bed. Their father had been dead a year now, and nothing was ever enough. They had barely scraped by before, and now they were stretched to their limits on everything. They had no debt, thank goodness, but they cut corners on meals so that their mother and baby Gwyneth could eat plenty. They were both weaker than the twins; it had not been a good pregnancy. He punched the pillow, angry that life was so unkind to his poor family.

-_-_-_

Seven years later…

-_-_-_

"Well, Mr. Bell, Ms. Bell, what would you have me do?" the stern magistrate demanded.

Arlo spoke. "I don't know, Your Honor."

"From your files, you are both highly intelligent, but have not been able to keep a steady job, and this is evident by your recent crimes," he said gravely. "While I hate to put young people with so much potential into incarceration, I cannot allow a crime to go unpunished."

They knew the crime for stealing was six months. By the time they got out, there would be no way to get any sort of decent job. Their mother's security checque had started coming in when they turned eighteen, financial help that was too late to save weak baby Gwyneth from dying. People thought that poverty had been basically eliminated and that children no longer died of malnutrition. Those people were dead wrong.

"However," the magistrate continued, "if you'd be willing to apologize and return the stolen item, I will reconsider your sentence and give you a better option, though you really don't deserve it."

"What option would that be, Your Honor?" Bee asked.

The old man cleared his throat. "To enlist in Star Fleet. The service no doubt would greatly aid in straightening out your crooked lives, and it would increase your opportunities in the future immensely."

Star Fleet. It hadn't occurred to either of them that this would ever be an option, though it was completely logical. The pay would be better than anything they could get in Liverpool, and they would get to leave Liverpool. Without them to care for, Jane Bell would be able to live comfortably from her security checque, and her friends would certainly see that she was taken care of.

The twins looked at each other a moment before returning their attention to the magistrate.

"Where do we sign up?"

-_-_-_

A/N: So you like?