Hart missed the look Bart gave him, but with the young man nearly in a sprawl against him, a mild nervousness took him over--and with hands settled on the floor at his sides, they stepped up to Bart's shoulders, and finally up into the youngster's bushy hair, slightly massaging the other's scalp as he ran his fingers through the mess.

"We're..." The scritchies paused as he mulled over the terms to use. Messy business this all was.

"--I think displaced is the proper term."
I'll show -you- a proper term, bend ov--
Not NOW. Be an adult for Christsakes.

"I'm...not precisely sure per say, but I think we're from the same world. Or have a good chance of it anyway. He's just from earlier in the woodworks than I am. By a few years by my estimate."