Stephen made the call to the woman named Quin, and she was on her way to pick him up. The boy sat on the curb outside the mansion gate in his ill-fitting clothing, waiting anxiously for the woman who, for all he knew, might be his future wife!

Having no idea how to prepare for the fated meeting, Stephen tepidly tapped his toes on the pavement. The boy had never even been on a date, and even if he had, this would be unusual by any measure. (How could a date get weirder than this?)

The situation itself was still hazy, involving changes in age or time travel and whatever it was, according to Quin, was happening to way more kids... or adults. Who knew anymore?

Nervously looking for any car, unsure of what Quin would drive, Stephen could only wonder what the woman with the heart next to her name would look like. Debating whether he grew up to like blondes or brunettes was easier than letting the bizarre reality sink in.

Man, Quin thought, she'd probably done something wrong by just leaving the Precinct without saying anything to Ashton. There was so much going on thought...she just needed the time behind the wheel to think. The redhead supposed that she should count her blessings that at least Nate believed everything already and she wouldn't have to work as hard to convince him as she had with Ashton.

Still.

God.

Luckily Quin was at a stoplight, because she was banging her head against the steering wheel. Gently...but still. The light turned, and she started driving again.

Soon enough, she was pulling up in front of the Mansion, looking at the kid on the curb who could only be Nate. Putting the car in park and turning on the hazards Quin climbed out and walked around the car to drop down on the curb next to him.

"Hey." she said to her boyfriend.

Stephen was doing a pretty good job distracting himself by imagining what Quin was like, that by the time a blue car pulled up to him, he had almost escaped the thoughts regarding his out-of-place state time-wise and any possible consequences that could lead to.

The car came to a stop and a tall woman came out. The first thing he noticed was her red hair, since he skimmed over the option in his pondering. He liked it-- maybe he grew up to have a thing for red heads?

The other thing he noticed was her light skin and freckles. This lady must have been a Northerner for a while, because he was used to almost everyone in Carolina sporting a tan. Things certainly must have changed for Stephen. (Well, apparently not the least of which being his name.)

The woman sat down next to him, which immediately pumped up the tempo of his anxious heartbeats.

>> "Hey."

What an opening line for such a complicated problem. What must it be like for her to sit next to someone who she cares about so much and have him be young enough not to know who she was? "Hi." What else should he say? "Wow, um, you're really pretty, Miss Quin." Even as a naive child, there was a part of Stephen's brain that knew he did not do that right.

Nate spoke, and Quin turned her head to look at him, plainly surprised at the compliment. "Thanks." she said, a moment later. Dropping her forearms on her knees and clasping her hands.

"We're going to fix this." she said softly, dropping her forehead into her hands. She'd held it together so well so far...but now she was losing it on a curb next to her boyfriend...who was apparently now a child.

A scared child. Who had woken up this morning in a strange place, with no idea what had happened to him. Quin sat up and smiled as well as she could.

"You doing okay?" she asked, glancing back at the Mansion, "That place can be a little intimidating."

He was not sure if Quin believed herself, but the words were at least comforting to hear. It will be fixed... whatever that meant. Stephen was still not sure if fixing it meant sending him back in time or making him an adult again. "I believe you," he replied with a weak smile, looking forward at a spot of pavement.

The big question was, of course, was he doing okay? His time at the mansion was unsettling, but mostly because of the conditions. On a better day, he would probably like the mansion. "I'm not too bad... Miss Gemma really helped. It took a while, but eventually she realized what might have happened."

Stephen turned to make eye contact for the first time. "I'm supposed to be grown up, right?"

Despite the fact that she was falling apart, Nate still had faith in her. It was heartening to say the least, and she felt small semblances of control beginning to return.

Someone named 'Miss Gemma' had helped Nate figure out what was going on and Quin made a mental note to send the lady a thank-you note or something when this was all over. At least someone had been there for him when she hadn't. No. Scratch that. It would have been horrible to wake up like that. Together.

Shaking her head, Quin moved on. Nate was asking questions that needed answers.

"Yup, Nate Holloway, you're supposed to be a grown-up."

There was that name again. Nate Holloway, the man he would one day grow up to be. Of all the questions he had, the most important ones to him were about that name. What made him change his name? He was unsure of whether he should ask Quin; would she know?

He took a moment to consider for himself. The final conclusion was that of all people, Quin should know why he changed his name. He would end up dating her, and you told everything to someone you loved, right?

"Quin... when I grow up..." his cheeks were already heating up, "do I... um, do we end up in love?"

Man. Kid-Nate wasn't pulling any punches. Quin ran a hand through her hair, wishing he understood how unbelievably awkward this was. That was the thing though...he didn't understand because he was a kid.

"As weird as it sounds, when you grow up, yup." she said. "And you're an artist who teaches at this big, awesome school for kids who are so amazing that nobody else knows what to do with them." It was the closest she'd ever come to admitting that the Mansion was a good place, so she hoped he'd remember when they fixed this whole thing.

When . There was no way that both Nate and Ahston were going to stay this way.

"What else?"

So she was someone he would end up loving. If that was the case, then she must know everything about him. He had no experience with dating, but the one thing he knew was that you did not keep secrets from someone you love.

"Well, I have been wondering... why did I change my name?"

He'd been wondering. Well, that meant that there were more questions that needed to be answered. If her morning with kid-Ashton had taught her anything, it was that these things needed to be taken slowly to avoid massive freak outs. So yeah, she could help. After all, all Nate needed to know was...

Concrete was a really rough place for a jaw to land once it dropped.

He wanted to know why he had changed his name?

"Changed your name to what, exactly?"

Well, he was hoping for her to understand his question, and his hopes fell on deaf ears. Quin's reply reeked of confusion, but he had to cling to hope that he might have phrased it weirdly or something. He looked at Quin's face (filled with disbelief) and tried to get a read on her. If they really ended up in love, why would Quin not know about his name change?

Maybe if he elaborated, it would hit her. "You know, to Nate. I mean, it's a nice name, especially the last name part, but I always kinda liked being Stephen."

With the recent turn in the conversation, Stephen was now keenly watching Quin to see what came next.

From the mouths of babes...

He liked going by Nathan...but had always liked being....Stephen? What. The. Hell? Man, Quin knew it was bad when even the voice in her head was screeching by the last word. Still. She held it together. She had to hold it together. Nathan...or Stephen...or whoever the hell he was...was a confused kid.

"Oh, right...." she said, taking a deep breath and plastering on a smile, "Sometimes I forget. I've only ever known you as Nate. It's an artist thing I think."

Another deep breath. "We should get to the station. There's a lot more people who are having the same problem you are."

Stephen only had a basic understanding of what a lie looks like, so he was fifty-fifty on Quin. She might have been lying to comfort him or she might have honestly just been uneasy with their situation. For now, he would trust her; why would she lie to him. "I guess I take this artist thing pretty seriously then..." So he really changed his name for art? Seemed farfetched, but he would have to live with it.

Stephen got to his feet. "Okay, let's go." Getting into the car, he ran through her last sentences in his head. They were going down to the station? He did not realize what sort of station right away, but it eventually hit him. "Are you a cop? That's really cool!" Stephen was a little jealous that she grew up to be in the police and he was just a painter. Come to think of it, he was a little bothered knowing what he ended up becoming; now that he knew, it barely felt like his choice at all.

Quin wasn't sure if Nate believed her or not, but he didn't say anything so she let it go. For now. Once everything was back to normal, Quin was going to be all over this with both feet. What was the name he'd said? Stephen. She'd find out who Stephen was...and why she'd never heard about him.

For now though, they'd go back to the precinct, and he would think it was cool that she's a cop.

"Yup. Well, I'm going to be a detective sooner or later, but we're going to the Precinct."

As for the artist thing, "You're very serious about it, and you're very good at it."

Apparently Quin was on her way to being a detective, which from the sound of the context, was the next step in evolution from cop. "That's awesome! I'm sure you'll be a great detective, like Sherlock Holmes! Except, well, pretty." So the end of that point got away from him. Holmes was the only thing that came to his mind alongside "detective," and he was still a novice when it came to talking to women.

It would seem he was not the only one who had faith in the other person; Quin must have thought highly of his art. "Thank you! Well, you know, eventually." Musing to himself, he muttered, "I wonder how old I am when I pick that up..."

The car left the Mansion grounds and Stephen got his first real look at New York. It was... big. The buildings were tall, and there were so many people. "Woah... Raleigh has nothing on New York..."