"Are you going to wear proper bike safety gear?"

"Or, for fuck's sake--"

He stopped, straightening to his full six foot three, and looked her--well, on the top of her head.

"Yes, I'll wear proper bike safety gear," she snarled, cocking her head back to look up at him from under her Yankees baseball cap.

"And you'll get the oil changed every however many miles?"

"Motorcycles don't need oil," she said scornfully, a half-sneer on her young features.

"If it has a motor, it needs oil," Grey answered instantly, turning and walking through the kitchen and into the area cordoned off as the dining room.

"Fine, I'll get the oil changed," Ray snapped, throwing her hands up in the air and following him.

"And you'll have the engine checked?"

"What?!"

Grey handed Chiya her sandwich, and she smiled at him happily before taking it and going back to playing zoo with her stuffed animals.

"Yes, I'll have the engine checked!"

"And take it out daily?" Grey walked past Ray, into the kitchen, trying to smother his grin.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Take the bike out daily. Motorcycles need exercise." He faced the sink, turning on the tap water and waiting for the rust to wash out before plugging the drain.

Behind him, Ray was suspiciously quiet. "You are such a motherfucker," she said at last, stepping up to lean against the counter beside him. "Does that mean you're going to okay my bike-buying?"

He grinned, turning to look at the tomboy. "Yeah. Not like I could stop you."

Ray's smile showed off only slightly crooked white teeth. "Damn straight! Just wait until the guys find out--"

*Yeah, they'll kill me,* Grey thought with a mental smile. Ray may have been his ward, but that didn't seem to matter. "Hey, that sounds like them now," he said, hearing the lock rattle.

Ray bolted into the main room, nearly jumping over the counter that separated part of the two rooms. "You'll never believe what I'm going to--. What happened?"

Grey frowned and shut off the water, drying his hands on a dish towel and heading into the family room himself.

TJ stood there, looking like murder, and Tommy leaned against him, face bruised and one arm in a sling. His cream colored shirt had blood on it, and his pants were torn.

"God," Grey said, and stepped over Chiya quickly, taking Tommy from TJ and lowering him to the recliner that sat by the door. "What happened?"

TJ was already gone, through the main room, into the kitchen and--from the sound of it--past that and down the short hall.

"I got jumped coming out of the club last night," Tommy said, cringing and holding his injured arm stiffly. "Grey, I think TJ's in serious trouble. This was because he owes someone money."

Grey felt breath on his ear and stepped back, turning slightly. Shakti stood there, silent as always, black hair falling down her back in thick waves. She knelt in front of Tommy, looking him over with eyes that were almost green and almost yellow.

Tommy smiled slightly. "Hey."

She reached out with one hand, touching her knuckles to his before pulling back into herself.

She should have been beautiful, Grey reflected, giving her space. And she was; like a feral cat.

As if she'd read his mind Shakti lunged away, propelling herself back and up from her crouch, twisting in midair and landing on the couch. From there she jumped again, reaching up to the platform they had installed and pulling herself up. It was close to the ceiling; she couldn't sit up, but instead sprawled along the edge, one foot hanging over and her arm dangling.

Grey turned back to Tommy.

"Go after TJ," he said quietly, nodding toward the back rooms.

Grey hesitated, then turned and quickly went around Ray and Chiya, through the kitchen, down the hall, to the single bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, watching TJ rifle through the dresser drawers.

The room, thankfully, was large. They had fit two dressers along one wall, and a third by the king sized bed against the middle of the far wall. A twin bed was under the window, and some shelves on the last wall. There was even a nightstand, with a battered light glowing feebly.

"Teej? What are you doing?"

The boy stopped and looked up. "Grey," he said after a minute, as if suddenly remembering who stood there. "I need money. Now."

Grey shook his head slightly, confused. TJ's accent was stronger, marking him clearly as a Brooklyn denizen. "What?"

"Jesus Christ, I need *money*! I just fucking said that!" he yelled, and slammed the drawer shut. The dresser rocked, then settled.

Grey stood quietly, watching as TJ slowly composed himself. After a minute the young man took a deep breath, stretched his neck, and purposefully relaxed his shoulders. His leather jacket practically hung on him. "I owe a guy money. I need to pay him by tomorrow night."

Grey nodded. "How much?"

TJ swallowed, pulled his hat off his head, ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at his earrings. "Two grand."

Greyhound managed not to flinch. He had years of practice.

Two grand. It was pennies on the street, dealing with the type of people Grey suspected TJ of dealing with, but to them--trying to clean up their act, living hand to mouth--it was two months' rent and food for all of them for six weeks, easily.

"All right," he said instead of screaming. "We'll get that."

TJ started laughing, a hopeless, sarcastic sound. "Right. We'll just walk down to the bank and say, 'hey, how 'bout a loan?' and they'll hand it over, 'cause we all look like such upstanding--"

Grey had already left the room, and tuned out the rest of TJ's tirade. "RAY!"

She appeared quickly, cocking her head and looking up at him.

"How much can you make in a night?"

"A hundred," she said instantly. "Once I made two."

"Good," Grey walked past her, resting a hand on her bony shoulder for a moment. "We need two grand by tomorrow."

Ray whipped around, protesting already.

"Ray, I need your help," he said softly, turning back and looking at her. "I can get a grand, but we need another thousand. TJ can get three hundred, maybe four--Tommy might be able to borrow money off his friends, but the rest is up to you. You're the best, kid."

She stared at him for a minute, then swore under her breath, tugged her hat further down over her face, and headed past him for the door. "I'll be around Diminuendo street. They have more money."

Grey smiled softly, flinched at the slam of the door, and headed for Tommy.

"We need two grand. Who can you ask?"

Tommy cringed. "Fuck me. I'll hit the club. No one there has much money, but maybe--"

"Anything would help," Grey interupted. "Take Shak. We'll filter over there as soon as possible."

Tommy nodded and stood.

"Blue?"

He stopped, looked up.

"Change your clothes first."

Tommy grinned, eyes flashing. "Yeah, I'd thought of that already, thanks."

Grey winked.

***

She zipped down the street like a flash, long brown hair tucked into her shirt, arms swinging with each foot stroke. The wheels of her 'blades vibrated on the sidewalk, jarring her as she went over a crack. She pushed off one foot and went faster, into the crowd, dodging and missing people by just a hair's breadth, crouched low so that when she did collide it wouldn't be fatal--for her.

Ray pulled her hat down a bit lower, squinting against the glare of the noonday sun. She'd been out all night and all day, had been able to fence a few watches, some jewelry, grabbed a wallet or two. It had been profitable, but not as profitable as she'd hoped.

A yapping dog ran at her and she jumped, nearly tripping, skidding, unbalanced, on one 'blade before crashing back down and twisting to stay upright.

There was her mark.

Two girls, one in a skirt and crop top and the other in blue jeans and a jersey over a black sports bra. They walked side by side, chattering animatedly, the girl with the skirt gesturing with her hands and waving around shopping bags absentmindedly. Curly black hair fell around her shoulders, a vivid white lock--probably dyed--growing from her forehead and pouring over the black. She reeked of money.

Ray crouched low and pushed off, faster than before, darting between people like a maniac. The girls came close and Ray twisted, "avoiding" an elderly man and crashing into the rich bitch. The girl went sprawling and Ray tripped, caught herself, and continued on, oblivious to the insults the woman was throwing at her back.

The girl could throw all the insults she wanted. She'd made Ray a lot richer.

***

The night was chill, fog rolling slowly in. Ray stomped into her shoes, tucked her 'blades around a corner, and ducked into the club.

The music was loud and obnoxious, the dance floor currently crowded. It was typical for a Friday night.

In theory, only people over 21 were allowed into the Trash. In reality, no one cared and the cops looked the other way as long as nothing got out of hand. So, carelessly, Ray strolled in and looked around all the familiar corners, searching for a head of silver hair.

There.

She shoved into the crowd, pushing her way toward Greyhound and the others. At twenty-seven, she didn't know how he had silver hair--but he'd always had it, and it was useful when trying to find him.

Ray elbowed her way past a final cluster of people and to the booth Grey sat at. "Hey," she said, glancing through.

Blue sat in the far corner, Shakti on one side practically crawling over him in her efforts to stay away from the girl on her other side. Curiously, Ray looked the new girl over. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a brilliant white stripe traveling down the side. Ray's insides froze, but she smiled politely and looked at the other girl, her hair down, but otherwise identical to the first.

"Ray, these are friend's of Blue's--newly made. January, right?" he said, smiling brilliantly at the girl with her black and white hair down over her shoulders.

She smiled back with a flirtatious look that made Ray want to vomit. "Right."

"And her sister, February."

Ray raised her eyebrows. "Creative," she said dryly.

February shrugged, and with a wry grin responded, "It's better than Sandi and Candi."

Ray snorted a laugh and glanced around the rest of the table. TJ sat on Blue's other side, and Grey at the end. There was little room left for her, so she contented herself with leaning against the support. The girls didn't seem to recognize her, which made sense. She'd changed and showered, taken off her baseball cap, and with brown hair and eyes--she wasn't exactly memorable.

"J and Feb are loaning Blue the rest of the money we couldn't bum off our friends," Greyhound said, and Ray smirked.

"Yeah, well, what with his sister needing help and all," February said, eyeing Shakti uncertainly.

Shakti glared and scooted closer to Blue.

Ray nodded. "Well, especially with her new meds and things," she said, the words true enough that she didn't expect to get caught in a lie, no matter what the others had said.

TJ chose that moment to nudge Grey and point across the room. He looked, then nodded. "Anyway. Ray, did you get my wallet?"

"Yeah," she said, and handed him the wallet with the money she'd lifted that day.

"Great. TJ and I'll be right back." He smiled again, his lady-killer smile, and both men headed off into the crowd.

Ray sat down in Grey's seat, eyeing the bottle of Miller's longingly.

"So, you live around here?" January asked, sitting forward and trailing her finger through the water mark left by her drink.

"Nearby," Ray said noncommittally.

"Hmmm." January looked up and smiled, and Ray recognized it as a predator's grin. "So the watch you stole off my wrist would have been pawned somewhere around here?" The words were low enough that Ray was sure she was the only one who heard.

She licked her lips and smiled nervously. "Oh, look," she said, standing quickly, "here comes the Hound and his bitch."

"Very funny," TJ snapped, pushing by her to get back to his seat.

"Grey, I've got to get moving," Ray said, smiling as he sat down. "I'll tuck Chiya in tonight."

"You sure?" he asked, dropping onto the bench seat and swigging from his bottle.

"Yeah. January, February, it was nice meeting you."

"Educational," January agreed in a low drawl, one eyebrow up and a cold smile on her lips.

Ray attempted to return it. "Yeah. That. Later, kids," she said to the rest, and ducked back into the crowd.