Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Six

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As was her routine, at ten o'clock on Thursday Kitty left her flat for the coffeehouse. Mr. Button was not out today; in fact, the streets were rather quiet for a weekday morning. She was not particularly looking forward to the day's events, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Lovelace would be just another suave politician who attracted a bunch of hooligans looking for a leader to rally around. Waiting on such a group was never fun.

When she got to Druid's she was met by George out front. He looked very busy and very stressed and was already sweating – not a good sign.

"Hullo, Kitty," he huffed. "You're exactly who I was hoping to see, incidentally. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind working all the way through to the end of the night. I know you were anticipating having a break before Lovelace's thing, but one of the other waiters just called in sick."

Kitty spoke through clenched teeth, trying her best to control herself. "They called in sick?"

"Yeah, apparently he's got a terrible fever." George ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. "Look, I'll give you a longer lunch break. I'm sorry, but we're expecting a huge crowd tonight, and we don't have anyone to help us out beforehand. We really need you to be here."

Kitty forced herself to look away, knowing that if she looked at George right then she risked punching him in the face, and that would be even more of a pain than the politician's hooligans. She had been looking forward to her previously promised break as a respite before the madness that would be Lovelace's event, which she knew would be very draining both physically and mentally. She already had picked out a place to eat dinner, but now those plans were ruined. Great.

At last, she sighed and looked back at him. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but sure. You owe me, though. Remember that."

"Don't worry, I will," he said, somehow managing to laugh and frown at the same time. "Oh, I'm so relieved that I could hug you right now, but that might violate some sexual harassment laws and I really don't want to get into that. Thank you so much, though, and I'll remember, I promise!"

"All right."

"Good. Don't get yourself too tired out – we've got a long day ahead of us!"

He gave her one last harried smile before hurrying off to do something else. Kitty just shook her head and went to go set her things down. George really needed a vacation.

It was in all aspects a regular day, although you couldn't tell by the way George was scurrying about here and there making preparations for Lovelace's speech. Business was normal, and shortly after two she finally took her lunch break. She made sure to spend all of her allotted time (and then some), and she perused several shops before returning to the coffeehouse. On her way back she was just about to cross the street, towards the book store she'd been in several days before. A man was crossing the street right as she was, and when she drew closer she saw that it was the man that had come in the week before with the boy.

"Hullo there," he greeted her as they approached the same corner, grinning. "You working tonight?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she replied. "Are you coming?"

"Probably, and definitely now. It'll be great to see Nat try to avoid you."

She made no effort to hide her confusion. "Nat?"

"The kid," he clarified. "He's coming, too."

"Oh." She narrowed her eyes and surveyed him with a degree of suspicion. "Just so you know, I'm not going to go out of my way to embarrass him just for your sick amusement. I've got better things to do."

"I know," he said. He grinned again. "But I tip well."

She allowed herself a smile. "Ah. Bribery. I should've expected it from you. I get these sorts of offers from all the creepy thirty-somethings that come by the store, although I don't think they're tipping for the same reasons that you are."

"There's nothing wrong with paying for a favor." He put his hands in his pockets and glanced down the road. "I'll let you get back to work now. I'm going out to some new Italian place. I heard good things about it and am fully planning to stuff myself senseless, so don't be getting your hopes up that I might stop by for a cup of coffee. I'm sorry, dear, but I don't think we were meant to be. That's just me being honest."

"Don't worry, I won't," she replied smoothly. "And that place is really good, I had lunch there yesterday."

"Very good." He mock-saluted her. "Ta ta, then. Do stop by tonight and chat up Natty boy, I might just bring my camera if you do. I would like to get it on video this time."

"Don't count on it," Kitty stated. "I should be heading back to work. Goodbye."

"Sayonara."

He headed off down the street, and she watched him grow smaller and more obscured amongst the throng of people cluttering the sidewalks. He was an odd duck, whoever he was. She felt somewhat sorry for the boy, Nat. She imagined his boss taunting him with subtle jibes throughout the workday. Poor kid.

Other than her encounter with the man from the book store, nothing of any interest occurred for quite a while. As seven o'clock drew nearer, George grew more and more frantic; at six he delivered an order to Gladys, with whom Kitty had been chatting.

"Tell everyone else we're closed for another forty-five minutes," he said in his most authoritative tone. "Some of Lovelace's people are here to get the stage together, and we don't need to be worrying about any customers in the meantime."

Before they could say anything he was gone, and Gladys gave Kitty a wry look as she turned back to face her.

"He really needs to slow down," she commented. "If he keeps up at this pace his pacemaker will explode."

"He has a pacemaker?"

Gladys shrugged. "He will after this."

It was odd to see the coffeehouse devoid of customers. However, Kitty was still kept plenty busy: George had everyone up and about putting up decorations and preparing food. It was clear that Lovelace's people were experienced at this sort of thing, however. In only minutes a makeshift stage was erected and the workers were testing the sound system to surprising success.

At six-thirty they finished, and even George was satisfied with their work.

"Very good," he said. "Not great, but oh well. Gladys, go let everyone know we're open now and start seating people. The rest of you, get back to your normal stations. Hopefully Lovelace will actually show up on time."

It appeared there was already a small crowd of people waiting outside when Gladys opened up the store, and within seconds Kitty was waiting several tables. At one point she saw from the corner of her eye the man from the bookstore; she didn't bother looking for the boy. He was probably hiding under the table or something else equally ridiculous.

Seven came and passed and Lovelace still did not show. When Kitty went inside to register several checks, George was vocal about his displeasure.

"Effing politicians," he grumbled from behind the counter. "I knew he was going to be late, I just knew it. Of course, his people say he'll be here and that he's always on time and whatnot. What a load of trash. Bloody politicians."

Kitty ducked her head down so George could not see her grin. He continued to mutter under his breath about Lovelace for a minute or so, until another waitress burst in through the door.

"Lovelace is here," she announced hurriedly. "Brought a whole troupe with him, too."

"Thank God," George replied, relieved. "Let me get out there and talk to him. We need to get him up there as soon as possible, I think the customers are getting restless."

It took several minutes for everything to be sorted out, apparently, but in a matter of minutes Lovelace appeared onstage to much applause, with many people even getting to their feet and whistling as well.

"Why don't you just be a good girl and clap?" Gladys asked her, smirking ever-so-slightly.

"My hands are sore," she retorted, and Gladys snorted. "He's receiving enough adulation as it is, I really don't think he'll notice if I don't join in."

"I thought you would say that."

Lovelace beamed and beckoned for the crowd to sit down. "Thank you, thank you. Please, take your seats. Hopefully we'll be here for a while!"

Almost no one sat down, and Lovelace's smile widened. He was a handsome man, yet not someone Kitty would particularly like to chat up: there was a threatening look about him, and he was handsome in a dangerous sort of way, if that was at all possible. From what she knew of him, he was a businessman, and from what she knew of businessman, they were ruthless. Lovelace did not appear to be an exception to the rule.

"Now, please, sit back and enjoy a nice cup of coffee. I believe waiters will be attending everyone throughout tonight's events." ("Too right we are," Kitty muttered irritably.) "But enough with the pleasantries – to the point."

It was then that Kitty decided to focus on waiting and stop listening to Lovelace, as the former paid much more than the latter. She still caught bits and pieces of his speech – something about a mentor and a business, and something else about university that made her bite her lip and busy herself with cleaning every crumb from one table – but for the most part she ignored him and kept to herself.

To her surprise, when she went back inside to fetch a couple of cappuccinos, she found Gladys behind the counter.

"Don't ask," she said before Kitty could even open her mouth. "Someone's slagged off, apparently, and George has no idea where they are. Thus…" She motioned to the coffee machine and counter disdainfully.

"Oh, poor you," Kitty sighed, affecting a voice used by a heroine in a Makepeace film she'd seen. "You're so overworked already. How could he do this to you?"

"Shut up, you." Gladys scowled at her as she filled up a cup of decaf. "Did you want something or not?"

"Two French Vanilla cappuccinos, actually."

"I'm on it. May be a few minutes before I get them to you, but nevertheless, I'm on it."

"I guess I should stay here, then, instead of going outside and listening to Lovelace," Kitty said. She imitated George's serious, terse posture. "I should probably make sure you get the orders right."

"Yes," Gladys agreed, "they were very tricky orders. I could mess up and go to a machine that doesn't say, 'French Vanilla Cappuccino' on it. Do watch and make sure I don't screw up. It's such a difficult thing to do."

"If I must."

Suddenly Gladys swore, and her hand recoiled from the coffee machine.

"What happened?" Kitty asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Burned myself," she spat, cradling her arm with her good hand. "Why on earth are these things so hot? I mean, are we trying to melt someone's mouth? At least there should be gloves back here for whoever does this so they don't get burned!"

Kitty laughed. "Perhaps we were right. I really do need to watch over you, don't I?"

"If only looks could kill," Gladys muttered. She made a face somewhere between a frown and a grimace. "Now let me get those cappuccinos so you'll get out of my hair and stop irritating me."

She did so with shocking speed, and in only a minute or so was ushering Kitty out of the door.

"Off you go!" she said as she beckoned for Kitty to leave. "Leave poor old Gladys alone in her misery."

When Kitty got outside Lovelace was still speaking, and was now apparently taking questions, even.

"Most politicians are cunning – they want not what is best for the people but the power they have sought after for so long!" he cried with just enough vigor to rile up the crowd even more but just enough restraint to remain dignified. "Their propaganda may tell you differently, but do not listen. If I do run, I can promise you this: together we will rise up, and together we will make a stand!"

Kitty nearly chortled at this new lie, but it appeared everyone else at the coffeehouse was buying it. She just shook her head and delivered the cappuccinos. She then began taking more orders, and by the time she had finished, Lovelace was being ushered offstage, although the crowd was in no mood to see him go.

"Oh, you can be such a bother sometimes, Amanda. But, like most women, she is right more often than not." Many women and even a good deal of the men nodded at this. "I suppose we will have to cut this a bit short. I have not made up my mind about whether I will run for any sort of office, but regardless of that, I do believe that together we can take a stand and make a difference! I must tell you good night, fellow citizens, but in our hearts we all know that liberty never sleeps!"

Kitty had to hurry back inside after hearing this. The crowd was of a mob mentality by now, and she did not think it would be a wise move if they saw her deriving such humor from Lovelace's pomp.

When she entered she found that Gladys was no longer there, and that someone else – Rebecca or Robin or something like that – had taken her place.

"Where's Gladys?" she asked, approaching the counter.

"George sent her to go fetch an autograph from Lovelace," said the new girl. "Have you got an order with you?"

Kitty nodded. "Yes. I need a regular, a decaf, and a water."

The girl said nothing, and in breakneck speed she shoved a tray at Kitty.

"There you go." She looked to the floor near the counter. "Oh, and George needed someone to take out that sack of trash. Since you're already going…"

She said nothing more, but her meaning was clear. Kitty sighed.

"Fine, I'll get it."

She bent down to grab the trash bag and then retrieved the tray from the counter. She'd just take the trash around back and head from there to deliver the orders. A bit of a roundabout way, but oh well. It was better than trying to come back through both doors with a tray in hand.

Just getting out the back door was difficult enough. She had to set the bag down and then hold the door open with her foot as she grabbed the bag once more. She hurried through as it slammed behind her and set the tray down on an air conditioning unit outside, sanitation be damned. The dumpsters were even further back in the alley, and when she finally reached them she found that they were jammed. She muttered a choice word and shook the lid for several seconds, which didn't seem to work. She then kicked the side out of frustration and spent another minute trying to get it open, finally succeeding. She tossed the bag in with a sigh of relief, closed the lid once more, and headed back to grab the tray.

When she grabbed the tray she looked up and noticed that Lovelace was standing outside of his limo chatting on the phone. This caused her to hesitate for a second – perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to go around this way.

Oh, shut up, she thought to herself, irritated. What do you care what Lovelace thinks? You're sure as hell not trying to go back in through the door again – that's always annoying. Just go around and act normal. Stop acting so shellshocked. He's only human.

This in mind, Kitty cleared her head of any silly reverent thoughts and proceeded forward. Lovelace was only a couple of metres away now, and a woman was giggling next to him. Kitty's head was turned to watch their interaction, and as a result she was not quite paying attention when she began to turn around the corner, and perhaps if she had she could have avoided what would come next.

There was a dark blur and she felt someone step into her with startling force. Try as she might, she lost control of the tray; the cups went flying into the air, and as fate would have it, they went precisely where Kitty preferred they wouldn't.

Three seconds later, with the tray on the ground and pieces of glass all around, Kitty looked up to find a very angry and very wet Simon Lovelace, along with his slightly splattered companion.

"Good God, that's hot! Damn it!" He scowled and turned his attention towards Kitty. "You imbecile! What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? Tell me, do you?"

"I – I didn't mean to, I don't know what –"

"Quiet!" he ordered, and she obeyed immediately. He looked towards someone behind Kitty. "Stupid boy! Don't tell me you blindly ran into her like a fool! What were you doing back here, anyways?"

Kitty turned and found herself face to face with none other than the boy from the bookstore – Nat, was it? She felt herself growing just as angry as Lovelace. This idiot had caused her to spill scalding coffee all over an extremely and important businessman (which, admittedly, would not bother her under other circumstances), and more importantly, could end up costing Kitty her job!

"I was – I was just looking for an autograph, that's all," he stammered. He looked absolutely terrified. "I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't mean for this –"

"I hope you're ready to pay for this," Lovelace snarled. "You have no idea how much this suit cost."

The woman placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it, Simon. We can get twenty of those suits for free. It's not worth it to have some newspaper report this saying you lost your temper or something."

For a few moments it appeared as if he would ignore her and continue yelling at the two of them, but he took a deep breath and backed off.

"You're right," he said finally. He turned back to the limo. "Let's just go. I don't need to waste my time here anymore."

He whistled and several escorts appeared.

"We're leaving," he said, and no one questioned him. "Tell everyone to head for the airport."

He opened the door and helped the woman into the limo before following her himself. Kitty stood and watched as an entire swarm of security followed suit, and quite soon the car started up and Lovelace and his posse began to head out.

Eventually Kitty was able to tear her attention from the brigade of cars and turn it back onto the boy. He seemed to feel her gaze and was already backing away from her with indiscreet fear.

"You idiot!" she seethed, advancing toward him. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

"Now, just hold on!" he squeaked as he held up a hand. "Let's not forget you were the one going around a dark corner with an unstable tray of drinks!"

"You're blaming me for all of this?"

"A bit, yeah. I mean, it's only fair you take some responsibility."

"YOU WERE THE ONE THAT WALKED INTO ME!"

"Just quiet down for a moment!"

"DON'T TELL ME TO –"

"Seriously, a crowd's forming around us!" She glanced over her shoulder and saw that this was partially true; while most people were talking amongst themselves still, one or two were glancing at the two of them suspiciously.

She forced herself to calm down, which was easier said than done. "Fine. Fine. Just – what did you think would happen when you walked around a dark corner?"

"Right back at you."

"I – never mind. Whatever." She rubbed her palm against her forehead, too tired to argue further. "This is a disaster. George will throw a fit."

"George is your boss, I presume."

"Yeah." She silently fumed for several seconds. The boy seemed to be thinking, which for some reason was even more infuriating.

"He doesn't have to know," he finally said.

She gave him a doubtful look. "How so?"

"I mean, Lovelace was leaving anyways," he replied. "And I doubt anyone saw us, I think we were behind a pretty heavy line of security."

"You're sure?"

"Fairly."

"Well, that's comforting." Kitty massaged one of her temples with her fingertip. "I suppose I'll just tell him that I ran into someone. I don't have to tell him I spilled all over Lovelace unless he asks."

"Exactly." He squirmed as he noticed the mess on the ground. "If it was all Styrofoam I'd say not to tell him at all, but it looks like there's a glass in there, too."

"Yeah, that's the water."

"Oh," he said. He made a face and kicked around one of the shards of glass with his shoe. "I'm sorry. I'll pay for it."

"No need, I really doubt George would take it out of my paycheck," she replied.

"Good," he said. "I can at least tell him it was my fault."

"You don't need to. I think he'll believe me when I tell him."

"Ah. That's good."

Kitty bent down to pick up the pieces of glass and Styrofoam. He watched her as she placed them back on the tray and stood up.

"I'm still sorry," he stated.

"I know, I know. Don't worry about it. I imagine there were plenty of incidents like this today." She placed her hand on her hip and hoisted the tray up higher, so that it was almost on her shoulder. "You're name's Nat, isn't it?"

"Er, yeah. It's Nathaniel." He grimaced. "You talked to Bartimaeus, didn't you?"

"Your boss? Yeah, I did."

"Wonderful. I'm sure that was an enlightening conversation."

She almost laughed, but not quite. "Yeah, you could call it that."

He placed his hands in his pockets and spoke to the ground. "So. I guess that's all."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Again, I'm sorry." He actually said this with some confidence – he didn't appear half as nervous as he had earlier. In an odd way this whole incident had loosened him up. "If you have any troubles with your boss, I'll come and tell him it was my fault. You know where to find me."

"Yeah. I'll ask for Nathaniel, I suppose?"

"Yes," he answered. He winced, but jokingly. "But please don't ask Bartimaeus. I'd really rather not have this hanging over my head for the foreseeable future."

"You know, that actually seems somewhat amusing. I'll make sure to seek him out."

"Thanks." Despite his tone he gave her a half-smile. "Are you sure you don't want me to talk with your boss?"

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. Actually, you should probably get out of here. George may see us if we dally around too long, and he'll be asking me why I was over here in the first place, which will not be a pleasant conversation. And your boss, Bartimaeus, may see us, as well."

"I see." She could tell this last comment made him uneasy – if he had needed any extra motivation to high-tail it out of there, that was it. "I'll get out of your hair then. Come by the store if there are any problems."

"I will. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." He made to move away, but he lingered for a moment longer and turned around, a curious expression on his face. "Before I go, did you happen to hear anything Lovelace was saying before – er, I mean – well, did you?"

She gave him a blank look. "No. Why?"

"Nothing," he breathed. "Just checking. That's all. Goodbye again."

"Goodbye."

He looked at her for one more moment before he turned on his heel and left. She tightened her grip on the tray and turned around the corner (more carefully this time). The crowd had started to dissipate, but not much, to her relief. Quietly and quickly she moved past the crowd and slipped into the door to the interior of the coffeehouse.

George was inside when she entered.

"Kitty! Where have you been?" He eyed the broken glass. "And what happened?"

"Some idiot ran into me when I was trying to get these out," she said, her delivery smooth and relaxed. "I'll need to get another round so I can get those people their drinks."

"Ah. Bad luck."

"I'll take the orders over here if you want," the girl behind the counter offered.

Kitty handed her the tray gratefully. "Thanks."

"A regular, a decaf, and a water, right?" she asked as she grabbed two Styrofoam cups from under the counter.

"Yeah." Suddenly something occurred to Kitty, and she had to stop herself from swearing out loud. "Say, George, has Gladys come back yet? Wasn't she supposed to get an autograph from Lovelace?"

"Actually, that's a good question," he replied, scratching his chin. "Apparently he just up and left a few minutes ago, but she hasn't returned yet."

As always seems to be the case in such situations, no sooner had he said it than Gladys came in through the door.

"Nothing," she said, offering up her empty hands as proof. "It took me a while to fight through the crowd, and when I finally did he was leaving. Then it took me just as long to fight my way back."

"Wonderful," George muttered. He shrugged, but he did a shoddy job of hiding his disappointment. "Hopefully we got some decent pictures, at least. I would've liked to have a photo with him and some of the staff, but oh well. You can't always get what you want, I suppose."

Kitty was silent during all of this and did her best not to look too guilty. She instead turned her attention to the order she still hadn't delivered, looking away from George with some determination.

"Here you go," said the girl. Kitty took the tray from her with a mumbled "thanks" and hurried out of the door. She nearly ran into someone else just outside and after this second occurrence slowed down – another accident was the last thing she needed.

The delivery of the order was relatively painless, although she did get a glare from the woman who'd ordered the cappuccino. Oh well. It wasn't her fault it took her so long to get the drinks out there, Kitty thought to herself. That lady could go over and raise hell at the bookstore if she was so angry.

In about twenty minutes the staff began to usher people out of the coffeehouse, and in around thirty minutes all customers were gone. They spent a short while cleaning up the place, and quite soon George had dismissed them all.

"Get out of here," he said in an even gruffer manner than usual. "I expect you all back for your normal shifts, and I don't want you too tired to work."

Everyone was too worn down to protest, Kitty herself included. She realized it probably wasn't wise to walk home alone in the middle of the night, but she just didn't have the energy to care. Luckily, she encountered no problems and made it back to her flat safely. She flopped down on the couch as soon as she got inside. She turned on the television and watched it absently for several minutes before dozing off to the sounds of headline news, not even having bothered to kick off her shoes.

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