Author's note: And now, back to Scipio and company.

Prosper closed the front door behind him. It was hard enough to get out of the house on time, let alone early. He had promised Bo the night before that if they got up early they would have time to go and see Scipio. Prosper now deeply regretted this, as Bo had woke him up repeatedly starting at 5:30 a.m. Finally, after about the seventh time, Prosper had forced the warm covers off him and bullied himself out of his bed (With help from Bo).

Prosper glanced at his watch. "If we jog there, we'll have more time to visit." He said.

"Oh, really?" and without waiting for an answer, Bo took off, leaving Prosper and Hornet behind.

"I had to open my big mouth." Prosper muttered, now sprinting to catch up with Bo.

When Bo threw open the door to Victor's and Scipio's apartment/office, they found themselves face-to-face with Victor, carrying a tortoise-laden box.

"Hi Victor!" Bo greeted him enthusiastically. Victor tussled the top of Bo's golden head.

"If you want to see Scipio, he's in his room, probably still sleeping. Who knows what hour of the night he was up till." He said disapprovingly. "I've got to take Lola and her husband on their walk, so I guess I'll see you all later."

"Bye Victor." They called after him. Then, with Bo in the lead, they entered the detectives' office/apartment.

There were now two desks in the room. One had lots of winged-lion paperweights and elaborate scratches carved artfully into its surface. The surface of the other desk was no longer visible due to the mountain of papers covering it.

Hornet and Prosper looked at the messy desk, then at each other and said in unison,


They proceeded out of the office room and into the short, narrow hall. A tiny bathroom to the left and a bedroom to the right. Turning into the bedroom, they could see that it was divided into two very distinct sides, Victor's and Scipio's.

Victor's side of the room was very orderly. He had a collection of books lined up neatly on their bookshelf that they resided on which was pushed close against the wall. He also had a tastefully decorated nightstand next to his bed and an organized closet filled with clothing and disguises.

Scipio's side of the room was a different story. He had piles of paper on the floor and all over his dresser. Clothes were strewn everywhere. His nightstand was covered in water glasses not yet returned to the kitchen, but a narrow path did lead to his bed.

Lying fully clothed on the bed was Scipio. He lay with his back to them, snoring quietly. But something seemed wrong; he didn't look as big as he normally did. Then he rolled over and Prosper heard Hornet gasp.

Scipio was no longer Scipio-the-grown-up, he was Scipio-the-kid again. A thin face, raven black hair ending in a short ponytail, and child-like features.

Prosper took a step backwards. By accident he bumped into Bo, who sort of fell backwards into Victor's closet, and hit something large that made a loud crash in the room.

As Prosper bent down to help his brother up, Scipio sat up. Rubbing his eyes and blinking blearily at them, he said,

"What are you guys doing here?" his voice had changed from its mature deepness to a more teenage sound.

"We came for a visit." Hornet said, still slightly shocked. "Scipio, there's something you should know, have you read the newspapers?"

"Before you tell me anything, I'll be right back." Scipio said, indicating the bathroom's direction.

"Scipio, I wouldn't go—." Prosper started.

They heard a yelp as they knew Scipio was looking in the mirror at a different face then he had looked at the night before.

"—in there." Prosper finished, cringing slightly.

Scipio came bursting into the room.

"What the—?" Scipio sputtered, "Hold on."

He ran back into the bathroom and they heard water running shortly afterwards. After about a minute, the water was turned off and they heard a loud splash. Two seconds later or so, a dripping Scipio came back out again. Apparently, he had jumped in a bathtub full of cold water to further confirm that he had not been dreaming.

"Yeah, its real alright." He said gloomily. "But how and why have I been changed back?"

"I don't—whoops!" said Hornet, "Gotta go, Scip, school."

"Yeah, bye." He said, before sitting down on his bed moodily to ponder how and why he was just a teenager.

A/N: Hate it? Love it? Suggestions/comments? Please R&R!