Disclaimer--I do not own A Great and Terrible Beauty or Rebel Angels. I do, however, own this measley bit of fanfic, and I will hunt you down and...key your car if you steal it! Muaha!

So, just to let y'all know, this HAS NO SPOILERS! This takes place right after A Great and Terrible Beauty. There, glad we got that straightened out.


"God, history class is so boring," I whispered to my friend Alana as our history teacher, Mr. Musnich, droned on about "the amazing Victorian era England."

"Oh, c'mon, Lea. It's not that bad," she replied, rolling her eyes at my frequent complaints. Well, sor-ry for not seeing what's so freakin' spectacular about history!

"Yes, it is. I mean, who gives a damn about Victorian era England?"

"Some people. Mr. Musnich."

"Well, I'm obviously not one of them," I said, rolling my eyes.

"You should ask Bono to help you study," Alana suggested slyly. Bono is the guy that I like, in case you were wondering. Well, I've liked him for a couple of years now. By the way, he isn't the guy from U2 (unfortunately). His mom is a huge fan, though, so she named him Bono. Pretty cool, I think. I love U2. But not because Bono's named Bono! I swear! I'm not a stalker!

"Are you serious? No!" I hissed. Another thing about me is that I'm extremely shy around guys that I like. Or even find attractive. Unfortunately.

It really bothers the crap out of my friends.

"C'mon, you could do it!" she said in a combination sly/encouraging voice.

"No! I don't have the guts, as you well know," I responded angrily, embarrassed.

"You know, it's completely pathetic that a seventeen-year-old girl can barely even look at a guy she likes, let alone talk to him."

"Ladies? Would you care to share what is more interesting than Queen Victoria?" We both shut up as Mr. Musnich gave us his I-caught-you-talking death glare. Later, Alana mouthed to me. I rolled my eyes.


"Hey, it's Lea, right?" I heard a voice from behind me call.

I turned and dropped my books in surprise. Bono? Talking to little ol' ME? "Wha--yeah," I said as I bent down to pick up my books.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said as he kneeled down to help me.

"No, it's cool. I mean, you didn't scare me," I said hastily. "What's up?" I fiddled around with my papers so that I wouldn't have to look him in the eye. Come on, girl! my inner-Alana said. He's not going to ask to marry you!

"I was wondering--" Wondering what? If you'd like to grab dinner? Yes, yes, and thrice yes! "--if you wouldn't mind helping me with one of my college essays," he said. "I know you're good at English and you seem to be ediiting stuff all the time."

I swallowed. "Yeah, sure," I said slowly. Okay, I'll admit--I was mildly horrified that he didn't ask me to dinner, but hey, editing an essay is something, right? Maybe I could charm him with my ability to use proper grammar. "Do you want my email? Or--"

"How about I give you my number?" he said. "Here, let me jot it down." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote Bono: 555-2636 on the cover of my math book. "Let me know whenever you've got time to do it, okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll call you later," I said.

He grinned at me. "Thanks, Lea. You're a lifesaver."

I smiled back at him. "An-anytime," I said. Of COURSE I would stutter.


I was dreaming. Very vividly. There were two of us: we were in a field, wearing weird clothes— me in a corset, long skirt, boots, and dress over that; and he in weird pants, a white pirate-style blouse, a vest, and some weird old-fashioned black boots. It was windy, a cyclone building up. We were running towards some old-looking building, but neither one of us knew why. Safety, maybe. I could hear him yelling at me, but didn't catch any of. Except for one word, one name: "Lea?"


I woke up with a start, breathing heavily and shaking.

"Liberty, you'd better get up if you want to eat," I heard a girl's voice say.

I rolled over and what I saw literally shocked me out of bed. I fell on the floor, exclaiming, "Who the hell—Where am I?" Smart, Lea. Real smart.

The girl rolled her eyes. She had extremely light blonde hair, light skin, and gray eyes. However, her personality seemed anything but gray. "I'm Felicity, your roommate. You're at Spence School, obviously. Now stop playing games and bloody get up!"

"Huh? Spence School?" I rolled over and realized that I was wearing a skirt and a weird top. Kind of like I was in my dream...

I gasped quickly and shot up from my laying position on the floor. "My dream!"

"What?" Felicity asked in a bored voice.

"N-nothing," I said. I stood up and walked over to (what I assumed was) my trunk of stuff. I reached in and pulled out (what I assumed were) my clothes.

A thought occurred to me as I looked over the odd clothes that I had absolutely no idea how to wear. "Felicity, what's the date?"

"November 7, 1895."

"1895?"


Constructive critisism liked...any critisism, actually...I've got about three more chapters written out but you'll have to wait for any more, I'm afraid. Thanks for taking the time to read it, though. I appreciate it. Really, I do. :)