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Summary: SEQUEL TO "FOR A PENNY" its a few years down the road.
Rating: PG
Pairing: BA
Feedback helps me write... notice... lots of feedback... you got a sequel. Wink.

Three years ago a six year old girl with blond ringlets gave him a penny. For a penny she had bought him… lock, stock, and barrel… and since that day just before noon he had treasured that penny. He never even thought of spending it. This penny was the first time anyone invested in him. It was worth more than its weight in gold.

He walked down the streets of NYC looking a little better than when she had been dragged away by her father those trivial years ago. She still sung gaily in his soul, giving his heart a rush. For the first time in nearly a hundred years he could walk with his spine straight and his head held tall.

She had faith in him to be good… nice… he wouldn't let her down. Would never prove her wrong. He'd promise; maybe not in words, but there wasn't a doubt that he had promised. His footsteps rang loudly down the dark alley he walked through. Something vile was lurking down here, and it wasn't him. It smelled worse.

His appearance since her departure hadn't changed. He still had the oily dread locks, from bathing infrequently. The clothes he wore were very worse for the wear, and clung to him in the shameful tatters of a bum. His shoes however were decent, no holes or toes sticking through. Rats were still a nightly part of his oh so nutritional diet.

And brooding was still in the front of his mind.

But with a different topic.

The gypsies might have cursed his demon with a soul, but he'd be damned if his humanity didn't learn a lesson from his whoring ways. Celibacy was a curse in and of itself, but it just rubbed him raw if he tried to go find female company. Even looking like this, he could get some, and that wasn't ego talking. It was the truth.

Sighing, his fingers trailed up to the cord around his neck that held her penny wrapped in copper wire. The face of the penny was nearly gone from his petting over the years, and there probably was a stain of copper smell on his fingertips, but he didn't care.

A noise alerted him to the thing he had gone down here to hunt. Taking careful steps he approached the likely looking shadow of the demon. A whirl of wind rushed passed his cheek and he pivoted to keep it from getting his back.

The demon in him growled for food. There would be blood. There would be carnage. He would win and feast. No! Not feast! He'd find his meal later. Tramping down on his demon, he still couldn't help the swift change in features.

Damn.

The demon he was fighting was stupid, leaving way to many openings and unguarded soft organs. His two century plus years on this earth added to one hundred and fifty of them chalked up to sadistic torture… oh yeah… he knew how to fight… granted his form wasn't as perfect as before, but all he needed was a little practice.

Like this thing he was working on taking out. Brute strength, but totally helpless and didn't even know it. He felt cheated out of a real good kill. His was blood thirsty and darn right scary even to himself when he was like this. Whatever it took… to keep the world safe for her.

She was nine. When her birthday was he didn't really know, but it didn't really matter, except for the fact that he didn't have a way to buy and give her a present. Poor Elizabeth, ever year since their meeting, he'd proclaimed it his new birthday.

On that day, he picked up one penny to add to his collection. He never picked up a penny but on that day. It seemed sacrilegious. On that day, he'd go to where they'd met in this city and sit there his back facing the bricks and sitting quietly, his eyes squinting out into the dangerous sunlight.

Daring. Risky. The ritual had become his sanity. The penny his only clue that he had ever met the girl. His little blonde one. Wondering what she'd been up to in these past three years, he couldn't help but smile. She'd be a mischief maker, enough to drive her parents nuts.

Probably gave a new meaning to messy. Peanut butter in her hair, grass stains on her clothes, booboos from climbing trees, scraps on her knees from chasing around after the boys trying to be one of the gang. She'd be a star, rivaling that of the sun and those that shone in the night, but couldn't be seen in the city.

The demon fell with a twist of his hands around its neck. The thing gave a surprised squeak. Like he'd thought, stupid but strong. Brains over brawn. Yeah, and in what lifetime was that the only requirement for survival?

Brushing off his hands, he knelt down to pick up the beast and find a dumpster to hide the body in. The years had been kind in the city he was lurking in. Still the night life, still the hot spot, still chock full of demon bits. Including himself.

There had been a time when this thought alone would have hurt him. He wasn't human, but he sure as hell wasn't one of them. He was walking a fine line with only a penny for a good luck charm. It has served him well.

He missed Elizabeth Anne, he really did. Who knew that a child could give him a purpose? Not like he hadn't tried before her in the fifties out west, but that was an area of his life he just chose to ignore. It never happened, really, it didn't. He wasn't hung by a hotel of people who he knew, because he'd saved someone from prison. Nope.

The agitation in his body, leaked like a well, it seeped from his pores, surrounding the night air. He was tired suddenly, his soul weary. So distraught over the past, he hadn't realized the comfort in his hand… not yet anyways.

He left the alley and headed for the subway. It was early still, he had a dollar to spare, why walk? The cool gust of air hit him at the edge of the platform. A police man was walking towards him like some criminal just as a train pulled up to the station. Time to bogey on outta here.

He border, never looking back. Don't give them more suspicions. Slumping onto one of the hard plastic chairs, he turned his face away from the stares of the well to do, and looked out into the night. The lights blurred, and became streaking tracks of white… fuzzy on the outside, but a hard straight line in the middle.

Letting his eyes flutter shut, he blocked that wonder out too. Electricity was taken for granted among this culture. Too easy to obtain. Even years after seeing its invention, it still amazed him, and maybe that was because he lived in the late 1700s on an island without. Maybe. Yeah. Right.

A warm body dared to sit next to him, and he paid it no heed of mind. Why did he care? It was they who were willing to risk sitting next to a bum with a jersey and blanks pants that exuded frustration and loathing around him.

Something nudge his knee, and he growled softly. Not really loud, but enough to cause anyone's neck hair to raise up… maybe the person would leave him alone now. Another nudge came. Damn it. Guess they won't.

Propping his right eye open, he looked at a blonde girl with bright shining blue eyes. She had little freckles on her nose and cheeks, and was unerringly similar to his little blonde. Her hand nudged his knee again, and he saw that her fist was closed.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he shook his head and turned away. Not his blonde… looked to pixie like, not like the tomboy he had imagined. Her hair was straighter and her eyes held green flecks. The mouth might be cute and heart shaped and kind of the same… but it wasn't her.

A motion from the girl beside him, made him glance at her through his peripheral vision. Her hand was opening, and inside it was a British coin and a penny. The British coin looked very much like a metallic pound. She seemed eager for him to examine her little treasures so he made a great show at giving them his full attention.

"My, my. You must have gone to England to obtain such a rare piece," he commented his voice thick with his Irish accent. Was he ever going to lose that?

"Silly. The United Kingdom. Isn't it neat? Its a British pound. A little over an American dollar. Mommy let me keep it. She's recently returned to the states after an art thing."

"Art thing?" he drawled, amused and horrified at such an `art thing.' No respect these days for master pieces. None. Not even poetry.

"Hmm-mmm. You want it? Mommy goes over quite a lot, she'll bring me another if I tell her I lost this one."

"Thanks, but no thanks kid."

Her lower lip puckered, and her eyes hardened, a little frown marring the skin between her brows.

"You sure are stubborn aren't you? Aren't you?"

Think if he ignored her, she'd go away? Not likely hun? Rolling his eyes, he stood to his feet, like a graceful cat, all muscle and sinew. Stretching slightly, he held the poll, readying to get off. However he was deterred when the blonde girl, clutched his shoulders, and he twirled, seeing her standing on top of the seat he had just vacated.

"Don't let the past haunt you, ghosts are very tricky. They'll stick with you."

"What ghosts are you referring to?"

"You can still make things right. Make a difference."

Taking his seat back, he leaned his weight on his forearms which rested on his thighs, his back hunched. His fingers held the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm the unbeating of his frantic heart. The penny slipped out of his collar, and the girl grabbed it.

Her reflexes weren't quick enough though, he held her hand in a vise like grip. Strong, and deterring. Her head cocked to the side, and suddenly she bent to kiss his stubble cheek. Her lips brushing against the night old whiskers.

"Thank you for remembering me."

"And who are you?"

"Elizabeth Anne Summers."

In the instant when the lights flickered, she was gone, but in his head rested the two new pieces of money she had given him. The penny was shiny and new, the year stamped on it said it to be this year. 1988. The year didn't mean anything to him, except that it was now the second year he had met her.

His reason for existence.

Little did he know, that until she grew up, this would be the last time he saw her. Elizabeth would never leave his mind or heart for long, and she always returned. The stakes were up. He was deeper that before in destiny and fate, as they awaiting in ticklish delight to show him tomorrow. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Damn.

Another opportunity wasted to talk to her one on one. He wondered so many things about her, especially wanted to know why she wasn't into sports and picking fights among the boys her age. She'd win, he knew her strength of will and heart.

She was very stubborn. His little token gift. He was learning to love. Oh hell, now he had something to worry about. Looking at the metallic coins again he wondered who said money wasn't everything, obviously hadn't had a little girl buy their love in worthless metal. Love was the only true currency. Oh yeah, he needed to get off this subway… he'd missed his exit station.

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