Adopted by Top Gear

Chapter Ten: Fish Don't Have Fingers

James decided that, since hardly ever had snacks, he would take Mercy out to get some, and they'd grab some something for lunch too.

"Right," he said, sliding into the drivers seat of his Panda. "What do we need for our Top Gear marathon?"

"Hm." Mercy clicked in her seatbelt and turned to him as he pulled out of the drive. "Well, we'll need ice cream," she said in all seriousness, though her eyes sparkled with laughter. "And some popcorn."

James grinned. "Alright, ice cream and popcorn. Anything else? Any candy? Imma get me some Milk Duds!"

"Oh." The laughter dropped off her face. "Should I have grabbed my purse? I don't really have much money..."

"What?" James glanced at her, confused. "Oh, no, no. You don't have to pay for anything, sweetheart."

"Really?" The look on her face told James immediately she didn't believe him at all.

"Really really. You're my guest, Mercedes."

A small smile worked its way onto her face. "Maybe we can get some sweettarts?"

He chuckled lightly. "Sure thing."

When they arrived at the grocery store, James grabbed a basket and bounded through the doors, with Mercedes keeping pace next to him. They wandered through the aisles in no particular order, grabbing ice cream and popcorn, chocolate and candy and soda. Mercedes said they should get some fruit to balance out the sugar, so James grabbed a punnet of strawberries. As they joined a line of people for the checkouts, Mercedes tugged James's jacket lightly.

"What about dinner?"

"Oh, right." He moved away, glancing around. "Er, what do you eat?"

She shrugged. "Anything. But I hate fish."

James laughed. "You hate fish, too? Hammond refuses to eat it. He refuses to eat anything that's come out of the water."

"Fish is gross," she said by way of explanation. "It's slimy and scaly and tastes like salt water."

James wrinkled his nose. "What did you eat, uncooked fish?"

"I don't know. It came with sushi."

"Ah," James nodded. "Japanese like to eat raw fish. Here," he scampered off down the frozen aisle and came back with a bright yellow box. "Fish fingers," he said happily.

"Fish what?"

"They're not actual fingers, fish don't have fingers, they're just long rectangles of fish. Trust me, you'll like them," he added.

They made it through the checkouts and hauled everything back to the Panda, stuffing the bags into the boot. When James climbed into the car, he noticed a tear running down Mercedes's cheek and was startled.

"Is, um, are you okay?"

She nodded, wiping at her eyes hastily, but said nothing. James reversed out of the parking lot and headed back home, glancing over at her every so often, but she stared straight out the window. It was only when James pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine that she spoke.

"No one has ever been this nice to me before," she muttered, fiddling with her shirt.

James's face melted into a soft smile.

"The last family that was even remotely nice to me decided I was a brat and sent me back again. Even the other children at Reedham don't really like me." She said all this very quietly, with her eyes fixed on one spot on her shirt.

James wasn't entirely sure what to say. "I'm not sending you back, if that's what you're worried about. We all like you, me and Richard and Jeremy."

She glanced up from under her eyelashes. "You want to keep me?"

James didn't say anything for a moment and Mercedes looked away again, thinking she'd screwed up, of course he didn't want her. But then a soft hand gently tilted her head back up, and she saw James was smiling at her.

"Yes, I think I would like to," he said softly.

Her eyes grew wide. "You would?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

She held out her pinkie to him, completely serious. "No backsies?"

He curled his pinkie around hers. "No backsies," he promised.