The Dark Angel meets Miguel O'Hara (open)

"Oh okay" he said as he nods his head

She wrote "sigh" on the paper and then pulled something out of her pocket. It was a little round music box, barely the size of her palm.

"Whats wrong?"

Turning the little knob on the box, she knelt down and set it on the sidewalk. The lid popped open slowly, creaking a little as she soft, slow tune started to play. On the inside of the box, there was a flat disk with a design painted on it. The disk turned as the tune played, the design reflecting in the mirror on the inside of the cover. Rocking from side to side, Lena closed her eyes and wrote, "This was my mom's... I like to listen to it when I get lonely. Not being able to speak is a very quiet thing... You're alone a lot because of it."

He sits on a bench and thinks what she wrote "I know how you feel, i always was lonely"

She nodded, understanding what he said, writing, "I had no friends and I wandered around Alaska by myself..."

"I can be your friend" he said as he read her book

She cocked her head to the side and wrote, "Why would you want to be my friend? I've never had a friend before so don't take this personally or anything."

"Since I got tooken from my time period, i had only made 1 friend"

"Oh," she wrote, holding out her hand. "Then I guess we are friends," she scribbled.

He shakes her hand "Guess so" he said smiling

"Good," she wrote. "Then you're my first friend... ever." She felt surprisingly proud of herself and picked up her music box, holding it out to him as it continued to play its little tune. "You want to look at it?" she wrote.

"Sure" he said as he studied it for a bit and it gives him happy thoughts

"What are you thinking?' she wrote. She could tell by the look on his face it made him happy, but she wanted to know why.

"It brings me happy thoughts"

"Really? What kinds of happy thoughts?" she wrote.

Happiness, good will, friendship, love and other things

"Oh," she wrote. "Then those are very good things."

He nods his head "Yeah very good things"

She nodded and wrote, "I remember some of those things, but they're a little blurry. My mother and father died when I was eight."

"Mine died when i was 5" he said

"Thats sad," she wrote. "Then you must really not remember much about your parents. I always remember how warm my mother was, how patient she was with me."

"I dont remember nothing" he said as tries to remember "All i kow they loved me"

"Do you mean anything?" she wrote, wanting to correct his grammer.

He nods his head "Sorry I cant say things right, if i cant think straight"