Inspiration just threw this really good right hook at my face and I was too sleepy to dodge it. And here was the result. I wrote this thing in the span of three days, well, three nights actually. The time I write is usually from twelve midnight to four in the morning. Yeah, my circadian rhythm (is that what you call it? something to do with melatonin, right? Gah, I'm such a dork) is all screwed up. I sleep late and wake up late. Oh well, at least I'm cranking out stuff.

Anyway, the idea just hit me one night. I was inspired by "Common People" a magnificent song by a magnificent band called Pulp, which will be making an appearance later on in this fic, which one have many chapters. The song, I mean, not the band. But I would love it if Jarvis Cocker suddenly appeared in my front door. Err, sorry for digressing. Anyway, the idea was inspired by that song and the fact that I'm still grieving for Nat's death in Ptolemy's Gate (I hate acronyms with a passion). So, since I'm still pathetically in denial, I decided to jump on the bandwagon and write a "Nat didn't die" fic. But the difference with mine is that it actually picks up where most fics leave. It has a bit more detail and realism (no, not really) into it.

This is probably one of the most dramatic, angsty-iest pieces I've written. It's really so weird. It reminded me of some lame soap opera. Anyway, I hope that this gets at least a substantial number of reviews. I don't know if it's original, but it's certainly different; chockfull of drama and yelling. Also, anything recognizable isn't mine. I like making obscure allusions to pop culture. In fact, I abuse that privilege a bit too much, if I may say so myself.

Basically set right after the Glass Palace went boom.

Review please!

Hammer to Fall

Chapter 1

Let Your Life Slide out of View

Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say,
Chained to all the places that he never wished to say,
Bound with all the weight of all the words he tried to say,
As faced the sun he cast no shadow...

As they took his soul they stole his pride...

-- Noel Gallagher, Oasis (Cast No Shadow, (What's the Story) Morning Glory)

After the explosion at the Glass Palace, Kitty's worst fears had been confirmed.

He was dead.

They were dead, Bartimaeus with him. And they just sacrificed their lives in the name of the empire and its people. Selfishly, Kitty hated him for doing it. She hated him for being so noble, so valiant. Selfishly, she hated him for being so selfless by giving her the Amulet of Samarkand, therefore condemning himself to a more than certain death. Selfishly, she wished that he could have stayed with her.

Even if it meant the empire.

Even if it meant death.

Not just his death, everyone's; including hers. She wouldn't have minded death as much, if he would be there with her. But now she was alone and he was gone. It was too much to bear.

'Nathaniel,' she murmured quietly, fingering the Amulet that was around her neck. A sob barely escaped her lips, but her mind was screaming and her stomach was thrown into an impregnable turmoil. She felt as though she might be sick, but she wouldn't allow herself to release whatever horrors lay within her. She just knelt on the ground, clutching her knees to her body, she watched the faraway tongues of flame licked the night sky greedily as they devoured the shattering structure it sprung from.

The smell of burning glass and metal wafted through her nose and the continual, seemingly never-ending shower of shards of glass filled the night. Kitty just laid there, countenance stoic and unmoving. She felt invisible tears sliding down her face and nonexistent tremors racking through her body. Sorrow had completely consumed her being that there was nothing left inside.

Perhaps hours had passed, or maybe just minutes. Kitty couldn't tell. She was fixated on the fiery building as it tumbled and writhed to its complete demise. She thought of Nathaniel who, if he had even by the slightest chance, survived the blast, self-immolating within the burning heat.

Somehow, in some sadistic way, that picture in her mind coaxed out of her face, the slightest hint of a smile. She was happy that he must have been suffering in the last few, but agonizing minutes of his life, like she would be suffering for the rest of hers.

Did she love him?

After years of loathing him, it was difficult to tell. 'No,' she told herself absentmindedly, 'Probably not.' She dismissed the thought and tried to diffuse any particular emotion that would stop the numbing sensation she felt, so that she wouldn't hurt anymore than she needed to.

'How could I love him?' the emotions were persistent and the voice in her head wouldn't be beaten down, 'I've only known him—the real him, for only a few hours, barely even a day.' The gnawing pain in her heart believed otherwise, but Kitty was too stubborn to acknowledge it, 'It's not like one night can erase years of all of the horrible things he's done to me.'

'He's gone,' she said out loud, bluntly and impassively, 'Nothing I can do about it.'

But at nine-thirty, precisely two days and five hours after the explosion in St. James Park, Kitty was proven wrong.

She had barely slept that night, but once she arrived at the hospital, she looked like a complete mess. When she ran into the emergency ward in fluffy bedroom slippers, she wore a coat over a flannel nightdress and her streaked hair flew in every direction. Her face was blotchy and red, but it was resolute and determined.

'Where is he?' She attacked the nearest nurse she saw.

'Excuse me Miss?'

'Nathaniel, where is he?'

The nurse gave her a bemused look, before recognition hit her, 'Oh, you mean John Mandrake, I suppose,' she seemed troubled suddenly, 'Are you his immediate family, Miss, because you won't be allowed to see him if you aren't? And I'm afraid he isn't stable enough!'

'Please,' Kitty gripped the nurse's shoulders pleadingly. Her eyes were filled with desperation, 'I need to see him!'

'I—' the nurse stared compassionately at the frantic woman before her, and relented, 'He's in the ICU. You can follow the arrows,' she pointed to the overhanging sign above them.

'Thank you!' replied Kitty, but she was already rounding the corner, heading as fast as possible to the Intensive Care Unit. Her padded feed skittered across the whitewashed floor as she rounded turns before she reached her destination.

'Kitty! Oh thank God, you're here!' an equally frazzled Rebecca Piper exclaimed as she saw Kitty run up the hallway, 'He's in there, right now,' she said pointing to a room that was filled with doctors and nurses crowding around a bed. There was a large buzz of commotion as they went about there business. She didn't look as bad as Kitty, but she was clearly shaken, 'He isn't getting enough oxygen, so they're performing a tracheotomy.'

Kitty pressed up against the glass panel to get a better look at what was happening in the room. She could hardly see him, but she caught a glimpse of a battered, bleeding body, just laying there on the bed. People milled about him frantically, glancing at the monitor he was hooked up to every other second. She looked on, even as a wave of nausea attacked her stomach, as they made an incision in his neck. The moment she caught a glimpse of the thin, red line of blood on his neck she had to turn away.

She staggered over to Piper, who was nursing a cup of coffee. After collapsing into the chair next to her, Piper gave her a weak smile, 'I felt like that too when I saw them try to intubate him.' she shuddered at the thought, 'The anesthesiologist wasn't there, but they went on with it anyway. The gagging, and the sounds,' She quivered again, 'But they stopped, they couldn't get it in properly and decided that the stress on his body would be too much.'

Kitty barely acknowledged Piper's words. She was lost in a daze. After all of the events that had transpired, this was certainly too much. Cupping her face in her hands, she rubbed her temples forcefully, fearing a migraine coming on.

'I thought he was gone.' When she had found it, her voice came out low and raspy.

'We all did,' replied Piper, who seemed to have already been able to digest the new twist of events. They stayed, concentrating on their own silent vigil for many moments, many minutes. They didn't speak to each other, only concentrating on the issue at hand and the wellbeing of Nathaniel. The tension was so thick that it was suffocating.

She coughed before beginning an explanation that Kitty needed, but couldn't bear to ask for.

'The same search team that found you went through the debris of the Glass Palace, today, after most of the noxious gases had been diffused. There were no signs of life, so we thought that we didn't need to search any deeper, after all, all of the magic energy that went on through there would have warped anything from the farthest semblance of life and the fire devoured the structure whole. But then, we heard a scratching sound. We dismissed it as vermin that had come to claim their new playing field, but then we heard this labored breathing. This gasping, this gagging,' She closed her eyes as relived the horrific moment over in her mind, 'We lifted an incredible amount of rubble from where we had heard the noise and we found him there.' She paused for a moment, a feeling from her stomach was trying to push its way out of her throat, 'Broken and bleeding. He was completely covered in blood, smoke, and ash. He looked as though he were dead...'

'Are you alright, Rebecca?'

Piper was startled once she realized that she was crying. Kitty was supposed to be the one breaking down and Piper was supposed to be the one comforting her. Not the other way around.

But that was what happened.

'I'm so sorry Kitty.' she said tearfully, 'It's just... painful, to relieve memories like those.'

Kitty nodded firmly, 'It's alright. You don't have to say anymore. I can just imagine the terror of it.'

Piper, after she thought that she had shed enough tears, was shedding a fresh, new batch. And Kitty was sitting beside her, stoic and grim, patting her back and giving her a shoulder to cry on. Kitty hadn't noticed it, but Piper felt, as she held onto her, that Kitty was shaking. Silent sobs were racking through her body and Piper could only imagine the grief that Kitty was shouldering.

Smiling through her teary face, Piper spoke softly, 'You really love him, don't you?'

Kitty's breath hitched and her heart pumped out an irregular rhythm. The question had been haunting her for the last few days and she figured that it was finally time to give it an answer.

'Yeah, I suppose I do.'

Piper smiled back apologetically, suddenly detaching herself from Kitty.

'Me too.'

As if the Glass Palace had exploded twice, Kitty stared at Nathaniel's former assistant with her mouth agape, shock was written all over her face and perhaps a hint of betrayal. But before she could reply, a young doctor burst out of the ICU, and immediately called their attention.

'Miss Piper? Miss Rebecca Piper!' he called, after he had found them. He removed the surgical mask he wore from on his face before speaking any further to them, 'I'm Doctor Roark and I'll be one of the many physicians who'll be looking after Mister John Man—

'His name is Nathaniel,' Kitty shot out angrily.

'Uh, right,' Roark seemed to be caught off guard by Kitty's little outburst, but he soon got back on track, 'Well, the tracheotomy was successful, and Mister Mand—Nathaniel's,' he corrected himself once he saw Kitty's warning glare, 'O2 stats are within normal range. We've managed to get him stable enough.'

'That's a good thing, then?'

'Yes, Miss Piper, however,' Roark paused, a bit anxious that he was the focal point of the two women's attentions, 'Mister Nathaniel suffered severe trauma in various parts of his body after the explosion and lying underneath all that debris for two days worsened his condition even more. The severe trauma in his head has induced him into a comatose state.'

The two women stared at the doctor before Piper broke the silence by crying out. Kitty faced the doctor squarely, in the midst of Piper's hysteria, and asked him, 'For how long do you think the coma will last?'

'It's indeterminable.' he admitted regretfully, 'All we can do now is monitor his condition, hope it doesn't worsen, and hope that he wakes up soon. Although I can't say that I'd want to wake up if I were him,' he spoke his words carefully, aware of the dangerous looks Kitty was giving him, 'with all the injuries he sustained it might be best if he stayed unconscious through the worst part of the pain and the healing process.'

Kitty nodded, digesting the information easier than she expected, 'Will he be a vegetable once he wakes up?'

'Kitty!' exclaimed Piper, abashed. She had relatively calmed down and was listening intently to what Doctor Roark had to say.

Looking uncomfortable once again, Roark supplied her with his best answer, 'It would be impossible to say at this point Miss...?'

'Jones,' she answered, 'Kitty Jones.'

'Miss Jones. The trauma in his brain wasn't too severe, however it would be impossible to say whether or not he'd progress into a vegetative state, at this point.' replied Roark, 'As I've said earlier, all that we can do now is continue to monitor his condition and pray that he doesn't get any worse. For all we know, he could wake up in a matter of days and start running the country in a month!'

His stab at humor fell flat upon his unwilling audience. They just stared at him with somber, pained expressions. Kitty gave him a cold, hard glare and Piper just stared at him mutely. 'Thank you, Doctor, for your time,' Piper finally said.

Roark gave them a quick nod of the head and with a turn of his heel, he went off in the opposite direction. He stopped for a moment and turned back to face them, 'Oh! I nearly forgot! You may visit him if you please. Talking to him will help. Hopefully he'll recognize one of your voices and react.'

The two girls nodded again, gave their thanks to the good doctor and headed directly to the ICU.

Stepping gingerly into the sterilized room, Kitty caught her first glimpse of Nathaniel and something was caught in her throat. Perhaps it was the sob that had long been waiting to burst out.

She swallowed it back.

Donning a gown (as was required) she slowly stepped towards Nathaniel's bed and sat beside him. Her eyes misted over as she looked at him closely, as if he were a dream, a nightmare. His entire body was wrapped in gauze and he stank of ointment. The white bandages they had wrapped around his wounds were starting to get soaked with blood and his broken leg hang suspended in the air. He lay still and unmoving, wrapped completely in bandages. The only sign that he was alive was the gradual heaving of his chest. Bartimaeus would have remarked that he looked like a mummy, were it not for the large tube sticking out of his throat.

Kitty tentatively brought her hand down to his face, the only part of his body that didn't seemed to be completely wrapped up. There were a few bandages here and there, and his head was wrapped up, but she could still feel his face. As she felt his skin, she was surprised at how smooth and warm it was.

'Nathaniel,' she whispered softly. Her hand left his face and traveled down to his hand. Nathaniel's hand was bandaged and bound as well, but Kitty took it gently in her hand and held it as firmly, but as tenderly as she could.

'Nathaniel,' his name came out as a sob and Kitty could feel warm tears flowing down her face. Her body was shaking freely with sobs and she felt her stomach flip and flop inside of her, 'Nathaniel!' She cried out again. Her sobs wouldn't subside and her breathing became more languished and more irregular as each tear flowed down her face.

Like a dam bursting, Kitty had finally broken down. And like the waters that flooded a city, the tears which she had longed to keep at bay were drowning her.

Kitty had completely forgotten that there was someone else in the room, only concerned about Nathaniel, but Piper put a hand on Kitty's shoulder, trying to comfort her as her cries grew louder and louder.

Weeks had passed, but Kitty had hardly left his side. She only left the ICU from time to time to go home to freshen up and attend to some obligations she still had to fulfill. The world was passing by in a blur that she couldn't care less about.

Piper, who was nearly there as much as Kitty was her only link to the outside world. She kept her updated on all the improvements and motions that were being made for the country and the government. Piper had a position in the fragile government and she was kept in the loop, aware of all the major adjustments and improvements being made on the empire.

She had told Kitty that commoners assumed high positions in the government, such as Foreign Minister and Security Minister. They were still in the process of electing a new Prime Minister, but the strongest candidate, by a wide margin was Gregory Lutyens, the Oxford educated brother of Rosanna Lutyens.

Kitty remained impassive towards most of the news, which surprised her a bit. If she had heard the news months ago, she would have leapt for joy. Her goals, all their goals and ideals had been fulfilled.

Commoners and magicians were both on equal footing.

The Demons' Revolt and the implosion of the government had given them a fresh start; tabula rasa.

But she was too concerned, too preoccupied with Nathaniel. His condition had slightly improved. He was already strong enough to breath without the help of a machine so they removed the tube from his throat and bandaged up the incision they had made. Most of his wounds were healed and the fracture in his leg was repairing itself. Most of his burns had lightened and he smelled less and less of ointment. But regardless of all of his improvements, he was still in a coma.

More weeks had passed, and while the government was slowly growing, Nathaniel's condition stayed the same. And Kitty, reluctantly, had to leave his bedside and get her life in check. She had to get a job to pay for the bills and it took its toll on her time. Since there was a shortage of teachers, she had decided to sign up, as under qualified as she may be and apparently, they were desperate enough to hire her.

She taught in a prep school, simple math and reading, which wasn't too difficult, but the school she taught at was miles from the hospital and she had no time to visit Nathaniel. It was difficult for her, but she had learned to adjust quickly and instead got all of her updates on Nathaniel's situation from Piper. They exchanged correspondences on a regular basis.

Even though it moved so slowly, time passed. Weeks turned into months and the months slowly began building into years. Kitty had become a certified teacher and was a member of the educational board of the school she taught in. The letters, emails and phone calls she and Piper shared became less and less and Kitty had only managed three visits to the hospital in the past months. Slowly, Nathaniel was being edged out from her life by her job, her priorities, and her life itself.

But it still didn't stop her from thinking about him each night. She lay in bed wondering what had happened to him, what was happening to him, and what could happen to him. She forced herself to move on, learning to accept the fact that he was practically dead to the world, and may never wake up.

Slowly, but surely, her life got back on track, once more. A year since the explosion had passed and she had a new circle of friends, a healthy love life, a steady job, and a steady income. She had mostly gotten over Nathaniel, but she always spared him a thought once in a while.

She had created a new life for herself as had the British Empire and its brand new government.

But her new life came crashing down one Sunday when she turned on the morning news.

'John Mandrake, former Information Minister was officially discharged from the hospital, a week and three days after waking up from his coma,' the newscaster said, reading of a teleprompter. A video of a gaunt, but happy looking Nathaniel being wheeled out of the hospital, holding Piper's hand while giving small waves and smiles to the crowd outside, flashed on the screen. 'It is unclear whether Mister Mandrake will be resuming his former position, however we here—

Kitty shut of the television with a click of the remote and sank deeper into her couch. Her mouth was left hanging as the information sank its way into her mind. A strangled sob escaped her lips, 'No...'

'He's awake... He's been awake for a week and three days and no one bothered to tell me!' Kitty was furious and her stomach twisted into knots. She felt a mixture of anger, relief, and confusion. After accepting that he was gone, truly believing that he would never wake up, there he was, alive and awake.

His face was gaunt and hollow, but lively and happy. He wasn't hooked to any more machines. The color had returned to his face most of his injuries seemed to be healed. He looked skinny and weak, fresh out of the hospital, but he was hailed as a hero by both magicians and commoners alike. As she watched him, a painful pang inside her reminded her of the last night, and the first night, she knew him. The same boy who she had seen that night was the one she saw on the television screen, not the boy on the hospital bed.

She thought that that boy had died.

And he was dead, for nearly a year, but there he was, awake.

But as the relief and confusion she felt subsided, the only emotion she had left was anger. She was furious that she had only found out about his condition now. She felt angry at Piper for not even telling her that Nathaniel had woken up. She was angry at his doctors who hadn't informed her. But most of all, she was angry at herself.

She was mad at herself for not visiting him and not seeing him recover firsthand. She wanted to stay by his side, but life wouldn't let her, and she knew and accepted that. She couldn't dwindle away as he got better. As much as she cared about him, she needed to care for herself first.

But her anger and pain just wouldn't subside.

'How could you not tell me that he woke up!' screamed Kitty as soon as Rebecca Piper opened the door to her flat, 'It may have been months since I had visited him, but what made you think that I had stopped caring?'

'Kitty, calm down!' Piper held her hands up in defense, wary of Kitty's balled up fists.

'Don't tell me to calm down!' yelled Kitty, stomping angrily into the room, 'I was at his bedside for the first three months, day and night, but we normal people have to work, so I had to leave him! I had to! And then, just this morning I find out that he's been awake for practically two weeks! I thought that I at least deserved to know the day he had fallen out of his damn coma!'

'The night,' Piper replied softly, 'He woke up in the night.'

'Why didn't you tell me, Piper?' Kitty cried, a sob racking through her body, 'Why? You know what he means to me! You know what I've done for him! You know that I deserve to know!'

'I—' Piper stammered as she watched the emotionally distraught girl rave, 'There's no excuse for what I did Kitty, or rather, what I didn't do, but you have to understand that everything happened so fast tha—

'Stop lying!' shrieked Kitty, who suddenly stood rigidly still, 'I want the truth Piper. You've already deceived me once.'

A pregnant pause filled the room as the two girls stared at each other.

'I—I guess, at first, I didn't want you to find out,' admitted Piper in a quiet voice, 'I felt jealous of you two, I guess and since you were effectively out of the picture, I thought, selfishly, that you didn't need to know.'

'That's a stupid reason.'

'I know!' Piper suddenly screamed at her, 'I know it is, but there is another one.' A grim expression fell on her face as she retrieved a folder from a cabinet. She handed it over to Kitty, 'After he had woken up, he was tested and examined. He also had to speak to the hospital's shrink. This is a photocopy of the psychiatrist's report.'

Kitty eyed her suspiciously, but flipped open the folder. Scribbling in a nearly illegible, but still understandable writing was the report. Kitty tried read through it as fast as she could.

"Today, I asked Mister Mandrake if he remembers any visions or dreams that he may have had during his comatose state. His answers were very interesting, recounting voices and visions of the past. But most intriguingly was one particular hallucination he had. I will recount this story in his own words, "I thought that I was dead for a while and I was sent up to Heaven. Once I was there, everyone was waiting for me in a line, from William Gladstone to John Lennon to Mrs. Underwood. And at the end of the line was Kitty. Kitty Jones. She was there, an angel. I spoke to her. I told her that I was sorry for all that I had done to her. I thanked her for saving my life—twice. She died saving me from a Golem. I told her that I was eternally grateful for all that she had done for me, willing or not. She looked so beautiful, dressed in white, her hair flying freely. It made me nervous, but happy. She spoke to me, but I couldn't hear what she said and the moment she touched my hand, I woke up..."

Kitty shut the folder, even more shocked than she already was, 'He—He thinks I'm dead?' she asked, her voice hollow and quiet.

Piper nodded at her sympathetically, 'When he woke up, there were many gaps in his memory. He only remembered his last few conscious moments and things that happened a month or so before that. During that time, he was still convinced that you were dead.'

Kitty choked back a sob.

'Where is he? I have to go and see him.'

'Kitty, I don't think that it would be best for you to go an—

'If he sees me, then maybe he'll remember!' Kitty said passionately, fighting back any tears that may fall from her face, 'Maybe I'll jog his memory and then he'll remember everything that happened! He'll remember everything! The—the play, the Gate, the am—

'Kitty please,' Piper said imploringly, 'if he sees you he'll only get more confuse and it wouldn't be advisory to add anymore stress in his life. He's just starting out again and relearning everything he needs to survive. If you suddenly pop up in his life it'll just destroy whatever he's already managed to accomplish!'

Kitty let out a string of violent curses, 'I don't care! I need to see him!'

Throwing the file on the floor, Kitty spun on her heel and stormed away from Rebecca Piper's flat.

'Are you certain that I can't see him?' asked an exasperated Kitty. She was in Whitehall, speaking to Nathaniel's new secretary. She had told him that she needed an appointment too see him, since his time was so tied up to the government and his own health.

'He has meetings for practically every waking hour for the next four weeks. Anytime after that is a bit sketchy and I can't place a definite date,' replied the secretary, wincing as Kitty gave her the coldest glare she had ever received.

'Please, I really need to see him,' her demeanor had softened as she pleaded to the lady.

'I'm sorry Miss, but seeing as how you don't have any official business with the Information Minister I cannot prioritize you over the Prime Minister of Japan or Workers' Union.' The secretary spoke in an apologizing tone, 'If you would like me to leave a message for him, a memo, it would be much easier for all of us.'

'No. No thanks.' Kitty answered coldly before leaving Whitehall.

She couldn't leave a message for him. It was too impersonal, too much of a brutal wakeup call. She had to see him face to face, even though it meant more pain for her. At least he would be able to understand more, and, hopefully, remember.

Years had passed, and Kitty's resolve faded as everything and everyone seemed to stop her from seeing Nathaniel. She didn't know where he lived and no one would tell her. She wasn't allowed to see him where he worked and she never saw him out and about in the streets. She was tempted once or twice to just leave him a message, but she knew that she couldn't.

The only places she would ever see him were the telly and the paper. More often than not, John Mandrake frequented the headlines of both the respectable newspapers and the tabloids.

The newspapers had at first reported how stellar his performance had been right after he had recovered from his coma and how he had propelled the nation's progress even more. His ratings were high and the people generally liked him. Localized crime was practically squashed out thanks to him, but as the years passed, Mandrake's performance began to slip. The reporters suddenly began criticizing his decisions and reported on all of the failed programs that he had set up. He was criticized for creating these lavish, well thought-out plans, but not being able to follow through with them. His approval ratings were sliding further and further down.

The tabloids covered Mandrake's personal life to such an obtrusive extent that it certainly must have done no good to his career. The moment he was seen wheeled out of the hospital, clutching the hand of his assistant, Rebecca Piper, suspicions were fueled and the two were confirmed as a couple. At first, the public adored the pairing. It boosted the morale of the people, distracting them from the blunders that were being made by the government. Headlines like "Johnny and Becky Cuddling in Camden" and "Rebecca Piper to Become Rebecca Mandrake?" caught the attention of the people and the two were photographed and stalked relentlessly. After sometime, the two were seen together less and less. People began to lose faith and lose interest in this couple when Piper was seen with a young doctor. The two hastily tried to patch up their combusting relationship by announcing to the press that they would be getting married in less than six months. Most people dismissed it as a publicity stunt.

And they were right.

John Mandrake—Nathaniel's life was falling apart.

It's so soap opera! I swear! Anyway, I'm sorry if you hate Piper now, because I don't. I really like her character, in fact. She was just extraordinarily convenient to use, since, you know, Jane Farrar's "dead" and all. I predict this thing to be at most three chapters long. It was only meant to be a songfic, but I got so caught up in writing the premise that all of it sort of fleshed itself out. Ah well, I hope you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it, and I think it's great that I haven't gotten tired of this yet (literally, since I'm writing this at five in the morning). Oh well, please review!

I love it when inspiration takes me away, even if it isn't in the direction I always want to go.