PART III: MY PANTS ARE FULL OF CATS

They all think I don't understand, but I do. It took all of two hours on the internet to learn, not that I understand how that works. I probably never will either. I only go out of my way to do stuff I want to do, and learning the ins-and-outs of technology isn't one of them.

Going with them, well, that in itself was enough to warrant my interest in the English language. They don't know how to communicate with me, and I don't let them. They are more than willing to learn my language for me, but I want that for myself. To this day they still don't know my origins. Not that it's easy to tell, I lost most of my tan in the change. Very disappointing.

I exhale into the plastic stick, causing the soap to expand and form a sphere. I really need a new hobby. I have the physics of bubbles down pack, they have become too mundane to hold my interest any further. The bubble floats to the grass at my feet, and pops. With a frustrated growl, I throw the stupid little bottle into the forest. I don't hear the impact.

A door shutting behind me indicates that I now have company, most probably Jasper to annoy me again. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to him and Peter for getting me out of there, but we are very opposite people. To the point of frustration.

He seats himself next to me. One thing the boy does have though, is stamina. He's been very persistent in trying to get to know me. All he has achieved though, is revealing their histories and gifts. Moron. He's lucky I'm not a threat to him, or he'd have been killed by now. But, regardless of my lack of language skills, I guess emotions don't lie. Wait, that's not right either. My shield blocks that from him too. I smile at the thought… internally of course.

"You know, it would be a lot easier if you'd just give me something to go on. I'm starting to question my sanity, talking to myself all the time." I keep my face slackened and stare through him. He sighs and rubs his hand through his hair. He does that a lot. I still haven't worked out if it's a nervous habit, or a frustrated one. The poor bastard definitely looks to be at an odds though. Being a bit lenient wont kill me, I'm fairly certain it will be okay to let him know I went out of my way to learn english, but I just don't want to seem like a push over.

"Grazzi hafna." He should be able to understand that. He speaks Italian, Spanish and French. If he can't figure out that grazzi means thank you, then he needs decapitating.

His gaze slides over to meet mine, and a lazy smile creeps over his face. "You're welcome." Well… the boy has brains. "But, for what?" he asks. What a douche. What does he think I'm thankful for?

"Inti stoptu," I retort.

"What does that mean?" he asks in turn.

I look at him, and peruse his face. Genuine curiosity. Fuck it. "It means you're stupid," I deadpan. Shock morphs on his face, which slowly turns to suspicion. I can practically see what he's thinking. "Slow your roll Rambo, I just learned last week."

"Oh… so, what's your name?"

"It's Bella."

Silence encroaches on us. I guess now that he had finally gotten me to break, he isn't interested anymore. I knew I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

"Err… I didn't expect communicating would be this awkward." Jasper… always the Captain of Obvious.

"Yeah, it was kind of more comfortable before." I can practically hear the crickets around laughing at us. "How about twenty questions? It will be way easier, and we wont be able to stand sharing a house. Once it's over though, I need to find a new hobby."

"Okay," he's giving me the look. You know, the one that says 'she's crazy.' "Me first. What country are you from?"

"I'm from Malta. What year were you born?"

"Eighteen-twenty-seven. You genuinely had no idea what we were saying up until a week ago?"

"No I didn't. You do realise that there isn't much for me to ask you because you've already told me everything?"

"Yes, I do. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-three years old. Don't you know it's rude to ask a woman her age?"

"I do know, but I don't care. How come you've only just learnt English and not before now?"

"Why would I've needed to? As a rule, I don't like people. So I've never needed to. My hobbies keep my mind preoccupied." I didn't bother asking him another question, I know everything basic about him anyway.

"What is it with your hobbies anyway?"

"I'm over one-thousand years old. I'm bored. Very, very bored. "

Char and Pete pull up right in front of us. "I knew something exciting was going to happen. So we cut our hunt short. So, when did you learn?" Peter was literally bouncing. Char grabs his shoulders and drove him into the ground, up to his knees. Well, that's one way to keep him still. Peter starts pouting at his own misfortune.

"A week ago."

"What's your name?"

"Bella."

"Where are you from?"

"Malta."

"Oh! Are you? I speak a bit of Maltese! Well, only one sentence actually." He claims boisterously. He puffs his chest out and starts. "Il-hobz tiehgi huma shiha ta qtates."

I slackened my face muscles so I don't give anything away. There is no way he actually knows what he said. "I'm sure they are Peter. So, tell me. Who taught you that?"

His grin broadens with pride at my response, "Garrett, a nomad taught me." Say no more. I've met Garrett two or three times over the years, and this definitely has Garrett written all over it.

"Well, we'll catch up with you tomorrow. Come on Peter." Char finally says. She has been perusing Jasper and I since she got here. She grabs Peter's hand and pulls him out of the ground and starts in the direction of their house,

I let out a sigh. "So… " Jasper starts. "You're looking for a new hobby, eh?" I swivel my head to face him, his tone thick with innuendo. Guess I found a new hobby to replace my bubbles quicker than I thought.