A/N: Let it be known that this story is not technically part of the Ordinary World series, because Rafe and Elizabeth are not the main characters, this is not part of their story, so it is not part of the series. It’s sort of an “afterthought” if you will. I want to keep them separate because I don’t want to take away from Rafe and Elizabeth’s story, but they have to be related because, well, it involves Rafe and Elizabeth and their children. Anywho, I just have to clear that up because for some reason I’m really uptight about it. :)

And just an FYI: in this story Ren and Rosie are 20 years old, Rachel is 16 and little Ridley is 8.

So here are a few excerpts from the “afterthought” known as When Worlds Collide:

((Excerpt 1))

“Let’s make a pact, here and now,” Ren pointed at her, his voice stern and determined. “If by some wild chance one of us stumbles across a way to get into the Non Faerie Land we will immediately tell the other and not go unless the other comes with. Agreed?”

Rachel didn’t need more than a split second to smile and shoot her open hand out to her brother, “Agreed!”

They shook firmly, both of them practically squirming with the excitement of such an idea.

Then a thought hit Rachel.

“But what about Ridley?” she said, thinking of their little brother. “He would love to see the NFL. It would break his heart if we didn’t take him with us.”

Ren thought about it before shaking his head, “No. Mam and Da will be furious enough with the two of us going, if we take Ridley I wouldn’t dare ever return to AFAL.”

Rachel groaned at the idea, feeling a nervous jolt in her stomach when she imagined how her parents would react to such a situation. She knew Ren was right, but she still felt awful for Ridley’s sake.

“We’ll make sure to tell him lots of stories when we return,” Ren assured her. “We’ll give him every detail. Maybe we’ll even bring him something back.”

This was a far cry from a perfect solution to the problem, but Rachel knew she had to accept it. With a sigh, she leaned against the horse stall and felt another thought hit her, “What about Rosie? We’ve got to invite her.”

Ren snorted as he turned back to the horse, “She won’t come! It would be against her father’s wishes, God forbid,” he said dryly, shaking his head.

“I think she’d still come,” Rachel said obstinately, watching the side of her brother’s face carefully.

Again, he snorted. “The day Princess Rosamond II breaks a rule will be the day I agree with Da on…anything.”

“You don’t know that!” Rachel huffed.

“I do, actually,” Ren shot over his shoulder, laughing. “I’ve known her my entire life, have been her bodyguard for half my life and have on a few occasions seen her get tempted into breaking the tiniest of rules only to refuse. So I am certain nothing would possess her to be disobedient.”

Rachel scowled at him, completely dumbfounded at his stupidity, before she blurted, “There’s definitely something.”

“Name it!” Ren chuckled, pulling the horse’s hoof up and bending it over his knee so he could fit the shoe on, “Why would Rosie ever go on such an adventure, assuming it will ever happen?”

“Because you’re going!” Rachel cried out in frustration, flinging a hand in his direction.

Her outburst caused his expression to twist and he looked over his shoulder again, this time quite curiously.

Rachel felt panic grip her and her brain repeatedly damned her thoughtless tongue. If she didn’t fix this quick, Rosie would kill her. She had to backtrack and do it fast, “You’re going, I’m going, we’re her best friends, of course she’d want to go!” Rachel spat quickly, trying not to look as if she were in the throws of frantic damage control. “She wouldn’t want to be left out,” she added hotly and raised her chin, it was easier to look calm if she looked haughty at the same time, she knew.

Instantly, Ren’s curious expression vanished and he turned back to the horse completely unbothered, “If you say so, but I still doubt it.”

Rachel stared at the back of his head in complete disbelief. As he hammered the shoe on the horse’s foot, she rubbed her forehead, muttering to herself, “You witless, insensitive and blind eed-jut!”

He stopped hammering, “Did you say something?”

“No,” she grunted and hopped away from the stall, “but I’m leaving now. All this Rosie talk makes me want to pay her a visit. Want to come?” she gave him a pointed look.

…One that naturally went over his head (in a figurative way, of course.)

“Nah. I’ve got to finish with these horses,” he replied, examining his workmanship to make sure it was flawless.

Rachel waited for more from him but got none. Rolling her eyes she said, “I’ll tell her hello for you.”

“Hmm?” Ren looked up momentarily, lost in his horseshoe inspecting. “Oh right, right, aye.”

Then he went right back to work.

Rachel turned away and left the barn, at an utter loss.

“Such a bleedin’ eed-jut!” she muttered and was then on her way over the hill to King Phillipe’s castle.

((Excerpt 2)))

Inspired, Rachel jumped from her bed and went right to the mirror. Irked that all she saw was herself and her room behind her, she looked around it feverishly but patiently, hoping to catch some sort of glimpse - some sort of hint - that these dreams were telling her something, that this strange fire-headed boy meant something, and it wasn’t just her imagination running wild.

It had to mean something...why would she dream about him twice now if it didn’t? Why would he

come from her mirror in the dream if it wasn’t somehow connected? There was something going on here, she was almost positive, and she knew it had something to do with this red-headed lad.

So why was the mirror only showing her?

(())

Jake quickly made his way to the dark bookshelf, ducking low and digging through the dusty

works until he unburied his treasure. Since he couldn’t afford the book, he was resigned to having to come to the bookstore every chance he got and reading what he could of it before Candihare kicked him out.

He sat cross-legged on the dingy floor, hardly caring about what it might do to the seat of his jeans, and plopped the book into his lap, hurriedly flipping through the pages he had already read to the one he had to stop on last. He memorized the page number, 101, so he wouldn’t have to worry about marking it and thus causing Candihare to flip his lid and scream vandalism. Smiling, giddy, he turned to page 101 and set in.

When 101 had been read, he turned that page and was met with another illustration: an oval practically filled with the bright eyes and wide smile of Rachel.

And his heart, just momentarily, ceased beating.

(())

Aggravated, Rachel had about given up when she saw a flash of something red pass over her reflection. She could only pause and stare for a moment before an image began to surface, a face that wasn’t her own, filling the mirror and pushing away the scene of her bedroom. He was young and comical-looking, with glasses and kind eyes…

And curly hair the color of fire.

Rachel gasped and clasped her hands, staring at the stranger in wonder. And, oddly, it looked as if he was staring back.

“I knew it,” she whispered, her eyes glittering, “I knew you weren’t just a dream.”

His movements seemed slow, his visage was slightly clouded, like she was peering through a watery dream, but she knew he was the boy who had visited her the night before. She recognized him instantly.

Heart pounding and adrenaline pumping, she knew she had to do something, she had to try and communicate with him somehow. She tried waving, but he didn’t seem to notice. She shouted and it didn’t faze him. He kept staring at her like he was reading something, studying something. Her? She couldn’t tell and his unresponsiveness to her attempts was a bit frustrating.

“I have to make a bigger gesture,” she decided out loud and soon got an idea.

(())

Jake lost himself in the image for a moment, wondering how the artist could be talented enough to actually have a person falling in love with his illustrations, to actually have the person find trouble in differentiating the drawn character from reality. How did he capture that wild vivacity in her eyes? How did he portray such spunk and kindness in just a smile? How did he make an ink drawing so damn beautiful?

Jake wished he knew and once again looked at the front pages of the book, hoping maybe this time he would find some kind of clue as to who the artist was. A name, company, anything. Maybe he just missed it the first few times he had checked before, maybe he had just not been observant or accidentally skipped a page.

But, just like before, he found no illustrator and no named author. He got no answer.

(())

When he turned his face and vanished momentarily, Rachel turned away and hurried to find something big and flat to write on. Luckily Ridley had a penchant for drawing and so had a lot of paper lying around in his room. She grabbed the biggest piece she could and a big stick of charred wood from the fireplace.

She knew he was still there somehow – since the image of her room had not reappeared – it was still cloudy and water-like, he was still somehow accessing her mirror, he was just turned away or something. As quickly as she could, she wrote big thick letters across the white paper with her makeshift charcoal, making sure they were dark, neat and readable.

Throwing the charcoal aside, she ran up to the mirror and held up the paper to it, hoping he would turn back to her soon.

(())

With a sigh, Jake decided to just accept the fact that the illustrator apparently wanted to remain anonymous and just move on. He let it go and decided to flip back to the new illustration of Rachel to admire it – or her really - a little bit more. His thumb was still on the picture so he flipped the other pages over and leaned over the book to study her face.

What he saw made him freeze.

The oval no longer held the bright-eyed smiling face of Rachel, instead it held what looked like a hand written sign proclaiming simply:

I dreamt of you last night.

Jake stared at the illustration for a few seconds, feeling his heart rate rise a bit, and then logic set in. He must’ve moved his thumb in the process of flipping back to the front, he told himself, or perhaps he fumbled forward a page or so and didn’t notice. Whatever the story was he knew he must’ve somehow ended up on another page.

Because it’s not as if the illustrations could change now could they?

He looked down at the page number, knowing he had begun reading page 101 and had proceeded onto page 102 where the illustration of Rachel’s face was. He felt an ill jolt when he saw 102 in clear bold type at the bottom of the page his thumb was still resting on. He looked at the illustration, the sign was still there.

I dreamt of you last night.

He flipped back to page 101, maybe he had been mistaken and Rachel’s face was there…but no, it was the start of the new chapter (named “The Connection”) it was the four paragraphs he had just gotten finished reading. There was no Rachel illustration. He flipped a few pages forward and found no trace of the earlier image he saw.

He looked back at page 102, at the illustration, and noticed the sign seemed to have shifted, and two bright and curious eyes were peeking around the edge, looking right at him it seemed.

With a gasp, Jake slammed the book shut and threw it away from him, letting it fall with a heavy thud on the dusty wooden floor.

(())

In an instant, the cloudy water and her fire-headed stranger vanished. Hoping he had returned, she peeked around her sign to check for sure and only caught a glimpse of his pale face before it disappeared without warning. Suddenly, all she could see in the mirror was the reflection of her sign and her peeking eyes.

She dropped her arms and her sign, staring at the mirror in shock before the disappointment sank in. Where had he gone? Why had he left?

And, the biggest one: would she ever see him again?

Then she began to shiver. An excitement deep in her gut began to swirl through her insides, making her realize something she had yet to stop and think about. The shivers heightened and the excitement exploded, consuming her.

Suddenly wild-eyed and almost hysterical, Rachel dropped the sign and went barreling through the house, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Ren! REN! I found it! I think I found it!”

A/N: Stay tuned… :)