Okay, here's the first part of another long chapter - the last one like this. It ends somewhat in the middle of things, but I tried to cut it off at the best possible place. Sorry if it seems jarring.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. And once again... I own nothing.

Ten

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Kitty didn't have to work the day after Lovelace's event, much to her relief. She had planned on sleeping in, but she awoke at ten o'clock (her personal record for an off day: four-thirty) and despite her best efforts could not get back to sleep. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and meandered about her flat for a while until she made the mistake of checking her messages. She had gotten through two – one from George asking her if she could work a bit longer than she had planned (obviously before he had asked her the day before), and one from someone she didn't know that had probably gotten the wrong number – when a very familiar voice came out of the phone speaker.

"Kitty, it's Mum, just calling to see how you're doing." Kitty's face tightened as she set down her spoon to rest in her bowl. "I love the book, by the way, great choice. Now, I know you're probably busy working and having a positive influence on society and all, but your father and I would love it if you would drop by sometime soon. Anytime this weekend would be fine – Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. We'd actually prefer Friday, to be honest. I've got the day off and he might be able to get off work early, and we already have plans for Saturday and Sunday. Anyways, just call us back, even if you can't come over. We miss you!"

The message ended, and a cool mechanical voice told her that there were no more new messages. She massaged her temple with one hand without thinking, her cereal quite forgotten. Just wonderful. It had been so long since she'd gotten a oh-what-are-you-doing-with-your-life-Kathleen lecture from her parents, and she didn't particularly miss them. Still, it had been some time since she had stopped by to see her parents, and she knew that she'd feel terrible if she didn't go. A very small part of her told her to hell with morals and ethics and guilt and family, but her conscience crushed this small rebel faction decisively, and she hesitated for a moment before picking up the phone and dialing in her parents' number.

The other line rung once, twice, three times, and Kitty began to hope that perhaps her parents weren't home or weren't up or hadn't paid their phone bills, and perhaps she could just leave a message and get off with a clean conscience. However, all her hoping was in vain, and on the fourth ring, someone picked up on the other end with a bright "Hello?" and she tried her best not to audibly display her disappointment.

"Hello, Mum, it's me. I got your message."

"Oh? You did? That's wonderful!" Her mother was far too energetic for this time in the morning, and this served to irritate Kitty further. "So what do you think? Could you come over in the next few days?"

"Well, I'm off today, so I could probably come over in a bit if that's all right." She said the last four words with particular emphasis and rather suggestively, as if to remind her mother of something important the elder Jones had to do somewhere far away that would prevent her from being able to see Kitty for another few weeks, at least. "I mean, it's fine if you can't."

"Don't be silly, Kitty!" her mother scolded her (although it could hardly be called scolding – it was too cheerful). "You know full well that I'm off today, and I'll be bored out of my mind trying to find something to do! I'm not as active as you – I don't have young boys hanging all over me!"

"Oh yes, Mum, because I've got so many of those. I had to disentangle one from my arm, actually, just to call you. All for you, Mum."

"Oh, don't flatter me so much!"

Kitty rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll try not to. When do you want me to come over? I'm eating breakfast right now but I can pretty much be over whenever."

"Oh, any time's fine, really," her mother replied. "How about fifteen minutes or so? That should get you time to eat and get dressed, and time for me to get the house ready."

"Very well." Kitty did her best to sound excited. She didn't think she did a very good job of it. "I'll head over there in a few minutes. It might take a little longer before I'm there, though."

"Oh, I know. I'll see you then."

"Yeah, see you then."

She set the phone down onto the receiver with a click and resisted the urge to grind her cereal into a fine dust with her spoon. She instead settled on shoveling it into her mouth as quickly as she could and chomping it with great force, although this was somewhat less satisfying than the other option.

When she was done punishing her cereal she got up and headed off to dress with little excitement. It took her longer than she expected to find something that would appease her mum (no plain t-shirts and tattered jeans, in other words) but not appear too ridiculous (such as that frilly dress she'd been given by her aunt last Christmas – this particular aunt didn't know her very well).

She finally found a nice blouse and a decent pair of jeans and changed into them. She diddled about for a while longer, but eventually realized that she should probably get going or risk further fretting and worrying by her mother, and so she left her flat.

There were several people waiting at the bus stop when Kitty got there, and she waited with them for several minutes until the bus finally arrived. It wasn't too far to her parents' house, but she would have to change buses, so she didn't bother even sitting down, instead electing to stand near the entrance.

Quite soon she reached her next stop, and she got off and waited for her next bus for another few minutes. This bus was much less crowded, and she did take a seat, as it was a good few minutes until she would reach the stop she got off at. A sense of dread had come over her – it was not that she disliked her parents, but more that she just didn't enjoy visiting them. She was very much unlike them, and they very much wanted to change this, which very much aggravated her. It just wasn't a good combination.

It was a short walk from the bus stop to her parents' house, and she tried to enjoy her last solitary moments as much as she could (to little effect). She soon found herself dragging her legs up the small stone pathway to the front door. It was a quaint house, not too large – her parents' salaries didn't allow for the sort of large extravagances that dotted the suburban streets around London. But it was her childhood home, and as many things as there were that she didn't like about it (the wallpaper, the cheap antiques her parents had bought just to appear affluent, several not-so-fond memories), she still was connected to it on a very basic level.

The door flung open and before she could say anything she was crushed by a vicious hug.

"Oh Kitty, it's been far too long," her mother said, kissing her cheek with just as much furor. "You should stop by more often! Why don't you stop by more often? Oh, I'll never know, you've always been a mystery…"

She continued on in this vein, and it was all Kitty could to squeeze into the hall past her mother. "Where, then –"

"The kitchen, dear. I've put a kettle on just now." They entered the small kitchen, and her mother made a disapproving tutting sound. "Oh, I know you've already eaten, but please let me feed you just a bit. You look so thin! Are you eating right?"

"Yes, Mum. I promise, Mum. Really."

"Very well, very well. Ah, I think the tea's ready." She got out two small cups from a shelf above her and continued talking as she filled them up. "You will have a cup, won't you? That hardly counts as eating."

"Yes. I'll have a cup."

"Good. Here you go. Don't stare at it like that, I haven't poisoned it."

Kitty had been looking at her cup with a very wary countenance, and even her mother's words did not particularly comfort her. "This isn't –"

"One of those strange flavors? No, don't worry, it isn't. I know how much you detest them. And besides, your father had an allergic reaction to one of them. Honey, I think. He hasn't been very fond of them since." She sniffed and took a sip of her tea. "Yes," she said, "perfectly normal tea. Try it yourself."

Kitty did. "Hm. Good."

"See? I'm not a complete nutter." A pause. "Don't smirk like that. It's not becoming of a young woman. I hope you don't do that when you meet nice young men."

"Mum, honestly!"

"What? I'm being serious!"

"Mum…"

"I am curious, though," her mother said without even smirking. "What do you do when you meet these nice young men? Do you giggle and flirt? Do you get all shy and stay away from them? Or do you give them an icy stare and an equally cold comment? I'm leaning towards the last one, myself."

"Mum! Really, that's enough!"

"Fine, fine." She stirred her tea with her finger absently. "Couldn't you at least try, though? You're a good-looking girl, Kathleen. If you'd just give it a shot I'm sure you could –"

"I know perfectly well that I could, but I choose not to," Kitty retorted, more anger in her voice than she had meant to intone. She twitched, and she set her cup down on the counter to avoid spilling if she repeated the action. "Really, Mum, I don't get why it's that big of a deal. You're much more interested in my love life than I could ever be."

"That's exactly what worries me!" her mother exclaimed. "You're going to end up forty years old and alone in some small flat somewhere without a husband or family to go home to, and I know then that you'll regret it!"

Kitty rolled her eyes for the second time that day. "I'm not going to hurry to marry myself off and become some ditzy housewife, if that's what you mean."

"You know that's not what I mean. Although I wouldn't mind if you were a housewife, if that's what you wanted."

"Oh God."

Her mother threw up her arms defensively. "I'm just saying! If it's what you want –"

"It's not what I want, Mum."

"Well. If it was –"

"It's not," Kitty said again, more firmly. "I'm not going to just stay at home and pop out kids for some class action lawyer."

"A lawyer?" Her mother looked off at the wall. It was apparent that she was considering this new concept. "Now that's a good idea. Do you want to marry a lawyer?"

"Mum –"

"Oh relax, Kitty, I'm only kidding." She finished off her cup of tea and set the empty cup down next to the sink. "Drink your tea, dear," she said, nodding to the cup. "It's good for you."

Kitty didn't argue – she knew it wasn't worth it. Slightly more sure in her ability to control her reactions, she picked up her cup and took a tiny sip. "Right."

"Hm," was all her mother had to offer at the moment, and they were silent for a few seconds (which did not at all disappoint Kitty). Eventually she spoke. "Speaking of your future… have you thought about school any more in the past few weeks?"

This was an even worse subject than marriage in Kitty's opinion, if possible. She tried not to look angry or irritated or any of the things she actually was at this particular moment. That would only worsen the situation.

"No," she said simply.

"Not a bit?"

"Not a bit."

"I see," her mother said, and Kitty she had not given her the answer she had been hoping for. "You should."

"I know. You've told me before."

"Kathleen –"

"Mum, I'm not going back to school any time soon, and there's not much that you can say to change that." She sighed. "Just drop it."

"I'm not going to 'just drop it,' Kathleen!" her mother replied, slightly angry now. "This is your future you're talking about! You can't go throw it all away just because you're stubborn!"

"I'm not stubborn," Kitty said, finding herself also growing angry. "I just don't see at all how school will help me. It's not for me. I don't want to be a businesswoman or lawyer or anything –"

"But waitress has become a top job, I see. Funny. I guess things have changed since I was young."

"Oh, that's rich," Kitty retorted hotly. "And I suppose being a receptionist is so much more prestigious?"

"Of course it isn't! Why else do you think I'd want you to go to school?" She turned on the water with a great twist of her wrist and began to clean off some dishes, ignoring the little bits of food and drops of water that were spraying everywhere. "We've never been rich, but your father and I have worked very hard so that you'd have a good future, and now you've gone and squandered it all! I just wish – I just wish for maybe a second you'd be a mite grateful."

Kitty did her best to keep her temper under control, and only through sheer willpower did she resist the urge to just walk out of the door and back to the bus stop. She grated her teeth against each other and focused on anything around the room – the crumbs on the counter, the clock above the sink, the fly hanging above the trash can – anything but her mother.

After gathering her self-control she spoke in a very quiet voice. "Perhaps, Mum, if you are really so mad over my personal choices about my own future, then you should stop inviting me over for tea. Obviously today has not been a great experience for either of us. Next time you want to make me feel guilty about something, use a different excuse."

Her mother didn't look up. "You've always been such a headstrong girl. It's your biggest strength and your biggest weakness. Either it'll make you or undo you. I'm not quite sure which."

"Mum –"

"I'll tell your father you stopped by," she said. She turned off the water and began scrubbing one plate with particular ferocity. "Don't worry, I won't have him come after you about all of this. You know he's even more touchy about it than I am." She finally craned her head up at Kitty and smiled. "He'll want to see you soon, though. You'll have to come by later and see him."

Kitty looked at her, a helpless feeling rising in the pit of her stomach. "Mum, I am sorry. I know that… that you just want the best. But I don't think that's best for me."

"I know, you've gotten that specific point across very clearly. Go on. I'm sure you've got parties to go to, boys to flirt with."

Her mother was still smiling, although this time with a bit more mirth. "You know me, Mum. I do like to socialize."

"You always have. Don't try to deny it."

Kitty put her hands in her pockets and bit her lip. "Well. Bye, I guess. Say hi to Dad for me."

"I will. Goodbye."

Just like that Kitty left. As she exited the house and made her way down the street she felt just exactly as she thought she would after her visit – a bit irritated and a bit guilty. Her mother always had that effect, especially when she got angry (which was a rare occasion; her mother was more of the sentimental type). Kitty knew that this would most likely bother her all day, and that only worsened her mood.

She arrived at her flat after a far-too-long bus ride and promptly threw herself down on the sofa and turned on the television. She searched through the channels for something that was actually intelligent and well-written and complex – something she'd have to think about, that would take her mind off her visit to her mother. However, the choices that day were rather poor: the best thing she could find was a reality series.

This specific show did little to make her think or improve her mood, and she turned it off in disgust several minutes later. She thought about reading, or paying the bills, or washing the dishes, but she was not uniquely motivated to do any of those things. After coming up with all of these chores she could (and probably should) do and not liking any of them, she got to her feet and just decided to leave in a fit of spontaneity. She had no idea what she might do or where she might go, but anything and anywhere was better than lounging around her flat with nothing to do.

Kitty was just locking up the door to her flat when Mr. Button came hobbling up to her.

"Kitty!" he said cheerfully. "How are you doing, my girl?"

"Good," she lied. "And you?"

He chuckled. "Oh, the same, the same." He tapped his cane against the ground as if to illustrate his point. "I must confess that I do have something to ask of you, though."

She knew his request would almost surely be harmless, so she nodded. "Sure. What?"

"I am going out of town for a few weeks to visit a friend in Athens. Now, this would normally not be a problem, but my assistant has not answered any of my calls thus far, and I don't want to just leave my flat alone." He frowned. "Useless girl, really. I don't know what ever inspired me to hire her. Anyways, I was just wondering if you might be able to look over my flat. Nothing major – you won't need to do anything really. Just call me if anything happens to it, and maybe take a peek in once just to make sure everything's all right.'

"Er, sure. But I don't have –"

"A key or number, I know." He dug in his pocket for several seconds before extracting a small pouch and handing it to her. "Both are in there. Now, you're a good young girl – I really don't expect you to go looting around my house. There's nothing of value to you anyways. Just a bunch of old books. Just make sure to lock up after you leave, though."

"All right, I suppose." She put the pouch in her pocket. "When are you leaving?"

"In a few hours," he answered. "In fact, I might be gone by the time you're back."

"I doubt it," she said. "I don't even know where exactly I'm planning on going."

He smiled. "Ah. The impetuosity of youth. Good, good. I do quite miss that just random energy that all youngsters have, where you just go wherever your legs may carry you! However, this makes it a tad difficult." He chuckled and touched his leg with a light caress of his fingers. "Well, well. I won't hold you up any longer. I think we've got all the bases covered. Just don't have any boys over at my flat, Kitty – I think yours will do quite well on its own!"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Mr. Button," Kitty replied, grinning.

"Really? You are a pretty girl, though," he said. "A pity. The lads these days must not be as smart and opportunistic as they were when I was young. Or maybe just a bit more shy."

"Must be," she agreed.

"Yes, I thought so." He smiled at her once more. "I won't keep you any longer, then. Get going to wherever it is your youthful spirit might take you! I've got some last minute packing to do."

He shuffled back to his flat door and entered with only a modicum of difficulty. Mood much improved, Kitty set off, a trace of a grin still evident on her face.

Not ten minutes later she found herself back at Druid's, which was not exactly where she had been hoping to be on her day off. It was familiar, though, and really there was a lot to do around the area. Several restaurants, an Internet café, the bookstore –

At seeing this last one she stopped. The boy, Nathaniel, had seemed quite worried about her situation with her boss the night before, and he seemed the type to fret over things until he pulled out his hair. She decided to stop by, just to tell him that things had ended up all right and that the world hadn't exploded or anything. It wouldn't hurt.

She entered and found that the bookstore was not at all busy. The man from the other day was at the counter – Bartimaeus – and leaning over to talk to a girl sitting at the desk. He appeared surprised to see her, but quickly hid his shock.

"What a pleasant surprise," he said, not sounding very honest at all. "What brings you into my humble bookshop?"

Kitty looked around for several seconds to find the boy, but he was not there, apparently, or at least not in plain sight. After her initial surveillance, she looked back to Bartimaeus. "Is Nathaniel here?"

It was obvious he had not been expecting this topic of discussion. "Nathaniel, huh? I see you two have met up again."

"Maybe," she said, cool and calm. "Not your business, really. Is he here, though?"

"Yes, but he's currently indisposed. Meaning he's sorting out crap in the back," he explained, doing his best job at appearing casual. She knew he was just bursting with questions, though, and this amused her for reasons she didn't completely understand. "Why'd you want to see him? Want to know if he made the reservations for tonight? Where are you both going?"

She had to admit that this was even more amusing, and she smiled. "Very funny," she said. "Could you tell him that everything ended up all right for me? Just not to worry or whatever."

"Sure." Her misfortune continued as her answer did not seem to put his suspicions to rest. "What exactly happened to you two last night?"

"Like I said, none of your business. Just tell him."

"Will do." He looked her over for several seconds before nodding, as if he had decided that no matter how much he pestered her, she wouldn't break. "Pleasure seeing you…"

She soon realized that he was looking for a name, and so she gave him one. "Kitty Jones."

"Pleasure seeing you, Kitty Jones," he said. "Perhaps we'll run into each other again sometime soon."

"With luck," she replied, not totally dishonestly. "Goodbye. Make sure you tell him. I don't want him coming over and bugging me about it."

She added in that last part to quell some of his suspicions about his employee's love life. She didn't want him thinking they were an item or something.

"Don't worry, I'm a man of my word." He saluted her in a very over-the-top manner. "Farewell, Kitty Jones."

Kitty nodded back to him. "Farewell."

With that she left him to his thoughts and walked back out to the sidewalk. She still did not know where she wanted to go, so she just started walking and decided to see where that would take her.

Kitty ended up spending an hour or so in a café down the street and then the rest of the day back in her flat. She helped Mr. Button carry his bags down to the taxi when he left for the airport, and she did several chores that she probably should've done a few weeks earlier. Besides that, though, her day was quite dull.

To her relief, she was working the day after, and then again on Sunday. She worked overtime both days – she really could not think of anything better to do – and George was ecstatic, as he himself worked the longest hours humanly possible.

"I must say, Kitty, I'm impressed by your work ethic!" he said with a hint of pride as she came in to get an order. "Keep at it and you could be where I am one day."

She did not mention that this was not a particularly appealing option to her. "Really? And where will you be?"

"Owning the place, of course," he replied, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm still trying to convince the family to sell me the shop. They'll give in, mark my words – I'm very persistent."

It was no secret that George was trying to buy out the owners of the coffeehouse, and in fact was a running joke amongst the employees, as he had been spectacularly unsuccessful as of yet.

"I've got some great ideas for the place, too," he continued. "All that empty space above us? They own that, too. I think it'd be great to turn it into an inn or motel or whatnot, with the coffeehouse being the ground floor level. What do you think?"

"It sounds great." She tried to sound sincere. "Really."

He smiled and scrubbed the counter happily. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

Her workload over those two days was exhausting, and each day when she arrived home at her flat she could do little but fall into her bed, limp and near-lifeless. On Monday, she woke up feeling only a little rejuvenated. While the long hours had abated her boredom, they had also done the same damage to any bit of energy that she might've had previously. This day, however, she would only work until three, and she was the happier for it. She just physically couldn't take another ten hour day.

Kitty arrived at the coffeehouse at nine, and when she got there neither Gladys nor George was working. Instead, a girl she did not know was the hostess, and a woman named Ianna was managing the shop. Ianna was an odd character, almost the exact opposite of George – she was laid-back and sort of dreamy, and she tended to flit about the shop and check on everyone without any apparent effort, quite unlike George's hurried sprints from the patio back inside.

"Hullo, dear," she said warmly when Kitty arrived. "You're only working until four today, correct?"

"Three," Kitty said as she set her things down where she always did.

"Yes, yes, now I remember. Will you be working through lunch or will you take a break?"

Kitty thought over this for several seconds. On one hand, she was quite tired and in no way wanted to work any more than she absolutely had to. On the other hand, she had already eaten, and she could use the pay for an extra hour.

"Through," she finally said.

"Good, good. Not to worry, I'll leave you to your work." Ianna smiled, and Kitty was shown a set of very white and very straight teeth for several seconds. "Ta ta!"

She fluttered off and Kitty watched her go for several seconds before grinning to herself and setting off to work.

It was an average day, quite unlike the two days prior, which had been extremely busy. This raised her spirits, and for the first few hours of work she was near chipper, to tell the truth. Around noon, however, she began to grow tired and hungry – never a good combination – and she became more and more irritable as the hours went on. At two o'clock she began counting the minutes until she got off work, and at ten minutes past two her counting was interrupted by the arrival of a familiar customer.

She was waiting on someone else across the patio when she saw him. He had sat down with a woman she'd already waited on, and they quickly burst into a very lively conversation, although you'd never tell it by the utterly calm look on his face. He looked very much like a statue, never changing. His only movements were to speak, and even then he was restrained.

Naturally, Kitty was faced with a small dilemma over the arrival of one Simon Lovelace. She had already been waiting that particular table, but she did not very much look forward to attending to him, and she was fairly sure the feeling was mutual after their incident the previous Thursday. She eventually decided to just avoid him as best she could, always making sure to wait tables a safe distance from him and to keep her back turned. Hopefully he wouldn't get thirsty.

These plans were ruined, though, when another familiar face showed up five minutes later and took a seat right behind Lovelace as discreetly as he could. Despite his best intentions, it was clear to Kitty that he was eavesdropping on Lovelace's conversation, and he would be lucky if he wasn't caught. She debated for a minute whether she should go to talk to him – really it shouldn't matter to her whether he was spying on Lovelace, it was his head, after all – but she eventually did.

Kitty tapped Nathaniel's shoulder, and he looked up, startled. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She looked over to Lovelace and the woman. "Are you – are you listening to their conversation?"

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