Fagin slouched down the stairs, dripping wet and shivering. His face was pale and his eyes wide with astonishment of what he had just been through. Oliver couldn't believe how vulnerable he looked and (despite that fact the he barely knew him) he felt the urge to comfort him. But he didn't need to.

"Oh, Fagin. What did that foul man do to you?" Rita sighed, walking up to him. Francis grabbed a blanket from what looked like one of few beds and draped it around Fagin. Dodger left Oliver's side and guided the older man toward a spinney chair in the center of the room. Einstein and Tito pulled of his hat, wet shoes and socks when he sat down.

"Three days… only three days. Where am I going to get all that money?" Fagin said to himself. The kids looked at each other, worry in their eyes. Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling out of place. He guessed that he was no longer welcome here. He prepared himself to leave since he did get what he came for which was food.

"Well… we're the best kids in this city. We can get the cash in a day, never mind three!" Tito said half heartedly.

"Yeah! With the cool Dodger leading the way." Dodger said teasingly. Fagin looked up at him and grinned. Einstein shoved him because of his smugness, but Dodger only laughed.

"Why is it that every time you guys are here I get a smile on my face?" Fagin said, smiling warmly.

"Again with the coolness…" Dodger began but laughed when everyone shoved him and told him to be quiet. Oliver, now seeing the happy scene, advanced toward the stairs.

"I saw Desoto's nose. Who did that?" Fagin said, his eyes locking suspiciously on Dodger.

"Not me!" Dodger said, pretending to be offended. He then saw Oliver about to leave and laughed. He grabbed Oliver's shirt and pulled him back, wrapping his arm around his shoulders lazily. "This kid did." he said, smiling slyly yet again.

"Err…" Oliver hesitated, ducking from Dodger's arm and stepping back. Fagin sat up and smiled at him.

"You did?" he asked.

"Well…" Oliver didn't know what to say, distracted by six pairs of eyes locked on his face.

"He sure did! He's smaller than me and he showed Desoto who's boss! Funniest thing ever!" Tito said, grabbing Oliver into a headlock and rubbing his messy hair with his knuckles. And then, to his own delight, Oliver laughed freely, fighting against Tito's hold.

"Get off!" he yelped, Tito laughing but obeying.

"Loving the new style." Rita said, taking in the now wild hair upon Oliver's head. Oliver did his best to flatten it, but his hair could never be tamed no matter how hard he tried.

"That took a lot of guts!" Fagin laughed, referring to the kick in the face subject.

"You gotta' do what ya gotta' do. I personally would rather to not be a punching bag." Oliver shrugged, now coming out of his quiet shell. Three days on the streets, feeling like he didn't belong anywhere, nobody taking in his existence. He had locked himself away in his own mind, feeling lonely and angry on the outside. The weight on his heart had begun to lift now, just by the simple smiles and friendly gestures.

"He's been here, what, half an hour? And he's already growing on me." Rita said, giggling.

"I second that." Francis laughed.

"What did you say you're name was?" Einstein asked.

"I didn't. Oliver." Oliver said, shrugging.

"Oliver! Well, do you have somewhere to be?" Fagin asked happily, now beginning to dry off. But Oliver stayed silent, and, sensing his discomfort, Dodger answered for him.

"No, I don't think he does. Can he stay?" Dodger said.

"Yeah, can he, can he?" Tito chimed in.

"Well, err…" Fagin had his hands full with the kids he already had!

"Please, oh please!" everyone said, leaving Oliver speechless.

"Look at him! Him and his small size, huge eyes and bushy hair!" Rita said, grabbing Oliver from behind and pulling him into a friendly hug. Oliver laughed. "He's so cute!"

"Alright, alright, he can stay if he wants." Fagin said, laughing.

"Are you sure?" Oliver said, worried that he was intruding.

"Sure. We need all the help we can get." Fagin smiled.

"Thank you!" Oliver said breathlessly. Everyone laughed at his amazement.

"Welcome to the gang, kid." Dodger said, winking. "Allow me to introduce you to the guys," he spoke in a mockingly formal way and grinning when Rita gave him a look. "and lady, to you." he gestured to each member. "We have the lovely Rita, intelligent Francis, rough and tough Einstein and…" he gave a movement at Tito as his name was too long for Dodger to say.

With a bow, Tito came out with, "Ignacio Alonzo Julio Federico de Tito at your service." Oliver laughed.

"Cool name." Oliver said, making Tito smile proudly.

"So, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself." Einstein suggested, leaning into Fagin's chair. Oliver noticed that everyone was getting settled somehow; Tito sat on the floor beside Francis, Rita pulling what looked like a bean bag before relaxing in it, Einstein lying on his front and Dodger sitting down against the wall behind him. Fagin, already comfortable despite the clothes sticking to his skin, only shuffled around inside the blanket and rested his eyes. So, instead of standing there like a lonely lamb, he took the space on the floor beside Dodger.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

"How old are you?" Rita asked politely, smiling. Before Oliver could answer the simple question, Tito began to fidget when he said,

"Oh, Oh, let me guess! Judging by the power behind your kick in the face tactic, I believe you're at least thirteen." he guessed, confident with the guess. Oliver grinned and shook his head.

"Ten."

"Ten!No way!" Tito exclaimed. Rita rolled her eyes as Tito began to rant on about how Oliver had to be older. She then reached forward and clasped a hand over his mouth, smirking.

"Alright. So how did you end up on the streets?" Dodger asked, generally curious. Now, Oliver felt that he should tell them that much.

"Abandoned. Mom couldn't look after me, or herself, so, well, she just left me." he spoke quietly, his stomach clenching slightly at the memory of her agonized face when she left him in the cold night.

"You poor thing." Rita murmured, temped to go over to him and hold him close. Oliver shrugged.

"She didn't want to, but she didn't have a choice, I guess." he muttered.

"What about your dad?" Francis asked.

"I don't know who he is. He left my mom when she was pregnant with me. Wasn't ready to be a dad." this wasn't painful to say, but it did anger him slightly. But he shook it off the second he felt it.

"Okay, Okay, lets lighten the subject." Fagin insisted. "What's your favorite food?"

Oliver laughed at the simple question. "At the moment, hotdogs." everyone laughed at his words.

"Got a hobby?" Einstein asked.

"Keeping out of trouble." was his simple answer.

"I am really beginning to like this kid." Francis laughed.

"Alright, you lot, time for bed. We can learn more about our friend tomorrow." Fagin ordered through a large yawn. It was like a mini Mexican wave, one person yawns, everyone yawns.

"Can't argue with that." Einstein agreed, strolling away to a heap of pillows on the floor and a blanket over the top. Rita's bed was like a cheap tent stuffed with pillows. Tito and Francis headed for the two largest pillows in the darkest section, shoving each other as they settled. Sure they shared a sleeping area, but they didn't have to get along completely. Dodger's was the biggest heap and what looked like the most comfy, beanbags that you sank into.

Oliver watched as the gang's second in command collapse onto the beanbags after fluffing them, making them look even more puffed up. He curled up like a child, his body sinking. This appealed to Oliver the most. He strolled up quietly, suddenly hearing the light snores of Fagin, and lay down next to Dodger (but allowing space between them). It was the most comfort he had felt in so long he wanted to cry with happiness.

Feeling the cushions sink slightly more, Dodger looked beside him though one eye. He saw Oliver's body coiled up, his hands and knees tucked up to his chest, his face peaceful as he began to drift off into a deep slumber. Dodger smiled briefly before turning away, resting his eyes and letting sleep cloud his mischievous and crafty mind. Tomorrow he would have to teach Oliver their way of life, and that was going to take some doing. But he believed that the kid would find it fun.