Author's Note: Sorry guys. Didn't mean to keep you hanging for so long. Combination of things came up, you know how it is probably. Anyway, here it is, and as usual sorry it sucks. *shrugs*

Chapter 9: Plans

Puck had taken a lot of careful consideration while building Owen. Given him certain... statistics. A set of very strict and efficient rules by which he's governed. Six hours of sleep a night, a strong resting heart rate, a brisk walking pace, and things of that nature.

In short, Owen was made to work and very little else.

Puck had of course incorporated a few flaws as well. Less than perfect eyesight, somewhat awkward social behavior to discourage people from getting too interested, most of which were based on Preston Vogel's outward manner.

But there was another characteristic that Puck had made sure to include in Owen. A flaw that he'd seen enough to know that all mortal men had and that he thought would really never come up. A small flaw that would only serve to act as a little reminder of his game and amuse himto think about from time to time. And so it had until right this very moment.

Owen was particularly susceptible to being enthralled by fae women.

A flaw that Puck was now kicking himself for ever even thinking was funny enough that it would have been worth such a risk. For at this very moment Owen had all but stopped breathing.

'Work! Damn you!' Puck screamed from inside him. 'Do something!'

Owen sighed, falling against a convenient tree trunk when his legs started failing him. Every part of his being was fixed on the vision before him. Asking him to remember his name would have been a request comparable to asking a tortoise to fly. His feet slid out from under him and he used the tree trunk to slowly fall to the mossy floor. This, by chance, made him lose his line of sight to Amelia.

It took quite a bit of effort to catch his breath and remember who he was, let alone why he was here in the first place.

He looked around, carefully avoiding the waterfall. The tree he was gripping for dear life was actually the door frame transformed. Amelia's magic was spreading.

"Amelia!" He shouted, forgetting that a spooked fairy is likely to react badly. And to say that Amelia was spooked would be an understatement.

Before he even had a chance to register Amelia's reaction he was slammed back into the opposite wall of the bedroom. Swimming in his vision was a view of the bathroom door re-solidifying before the world disappeared completely.

He jerked to attention what he thought must have been just a moment later to find Emily kneeling before him clad only in a bathrobe.

"Oh god!" She moaned. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to do that, it's just you were suddenly just there and I couldn't help it!" She exclaimed, trying to do so not-loudly so as to not aggravate the headache he was surely starting to get.

Owen couldn't think. Emily was gripping he head gently, checking for injury. This offered him a rather intimate view down her robe. He could see little more than her sternum, but the the view combined with the after effects of the close encounter with Amelia was leaving him rather breathless.

"Look at me." She said. Owen looked up, a bit startled, thinking he'd been caught. She didn't appear to be mad though. It dawned on him that she was checking his eyes for lucidity. Finally she leaned back with a sigh of relief.

"Seems like you're alright." She concluded finally.

Owen decided not to tell her that he'd taken much worse beatings. He didn't think that would help her mood any.

Emily gave him a confused look, the situation starting to dawn on her.

"Umm... why are you here anyway?"

Owen decided that his voice was steady enough to answer that. Any breathlessness could be written off as having had the wind knocked out of him at this point.

"I was coming to discuss your plans and living arrangements from this point on. But perhaps now isn't the best time?" Emily backed off and got to her feet as Owen made a move to do the same.

"Plans?" Emily asked. Then she stopped. "No, you're right. Now probably isn't the best time. She seemed to only just then realize that she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

After going through a few more increasingly awkward motions of saying goodbye after such a scene Owen finally made it out the door. He looked at his watch and found he'd spent his entire extended lunch break and accomplished absolutely nothing. He could only hope that this wasn't going to become a common occurrence.

~*~*~*~*(Later)*~*~*~*~

It had been separately, but mutually, agreed upon that Owen wouldn't go into her room without express invitation at that point. So rather than Owen coming into Emily's room that evening they decided that they'd go to the kitchens. Neither of them had had dinner yet and Emily still hadn't seen any of the castle despite having spent a day and a half there already.

The kitchen in question was rather large with a dining cove for servants. It was a bit late due to the fact that Owen just naturally worked long hours and so the kitchens were clean and deserted.

With little fuss they decided to raid the leftovers of the family meal and make sandwiches.

Emily watched as Owen methodically put together sandwiches out of the roast beef he'd heated up in the microwave. For someone who seemed to move so stiffly he really was quite efficient. Maybe it wasn't that he moved stiffly, but he never moved without necessity. It was interesting to look at once you knew what you were seeing.

Once the food was plated and served, and had Owen sat down with her, Emily opened the subject again.

"So, plans?" She asked, remembering the stripe of the planned conversation.

"Yes, have you any?" Owen asked. Emily, not expecting this to involve her for some reason, just looked at him looking completely puzzled. Not wanting to look like a complete idiot she tried for some answer.

"Plans for what?" Owen rolled his eyes as discretely as he could.

"Let us assume we've disrupted your vacation plans and go from there."

It finally dawned on Emily that he was asking about the very thing she'd been pondering earlier. What was she intending to do in the future?

It wasn't a less daunting question coming from him, she surmised.

"I hadn't thought of it much." She answered rather quickly. "Most of me was so focused on getting up to this point I hadn't thought much of the after." She frowned at her roast beef sandwich.

"Well, there are several options open to you at this point." Owen replied.

Emily had the distinct feeling that she was being led on a chain through the conversation already. She supposed that it wasn't really a stretch to guess that she would answer the way she had (he clearly knew several more obscure things about her) and so segueing into what THEY wanted to do with her wouldn't have taken a genius... but still. Somehow it underlined a manipulative streak.

"Mmm?" She questioned around a bite of sandwich that she'd taken a little more viciously than she'd had to. She was determined to have this sandwich, as she couldn't really remember her last meal but had the distinct impression she hadn't gotten to eat it.

"Well, there are several colleges in the area and, alternatively, several jobs to be had."

"In Manhattan maybe, in smalltown Ohio notsomuch..." Emily pondered aloud. This was said mostly to herself but there was no denying that Owen caught it. He'd stopped... well, everything. She refocused her eyes to find him staring at her, perfectly still. There seemed to be some urgency in the act, not that that made any sense at all.

Emily couldn't fathom what seemed to bother Owen about what she'd just said. Was it because she was from Ohio? She pressed on.

"So, I guess you wanted to talk to me about some sort of opportunities there are around here or something? Cause there sure aren't a whole lot back home. Community College was looking like my best option."

"Yes." Owen said slowly, not quite recovering from his pause. "There are several colleges in the area, and Mr. Xanatos expressed interest in offering you a job as an assistant, if that appeals to you at all." Owen had said that last bit in such a peculiar voice that she had to look up.

He was looking at her very hard. Clearly there was some meaning or innuendo in what he just said, but she just couldn't find it. Seeing that the light just wasn't dawning on her he continued. His voice was tinted with annoyance, perhaps due to having to explain himself.

"A job as an assistant at Xanatos Corp, while appearing rather superficial, may require you to utilize your rather unique... skills." The stress on that last word left little room for confusion.

That effectively distilled the conversation down to a single point: Did she try to go back some and pretend that none of this ever happened, or did she stay here and let her life change completely?

Well... that wasn't at all daunting.

She sighed, and started to say something to that effect to Owen, but a rather boisterous voice in the hallway distracted her.

"We still have time Angela. I just want to get something to eat first." The voice seemed to startle Owen, he looked at his watch in disbelief. Emily looked up at the clock on the wall, it was just after 9PM. Owen got up swiftly and was headed to the door, but if his intention had been to waylay the owner of the voice he was too late. They'd already entered.

It had already entered.

Author's Note: Believe it or not that's not at all where I was going to leave this chapter when I first thought it out... But there you have it. Don't be mad at me. If ever I make a chapter without a cliff hanger you'll know that I've just completely lost interest in the whole thing. These are just as much for my benefit as they are to drive you crazy.