Look! A Knives cameo!

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Band practice went well, the play list for later in the week firmed up and worked on. The band broke apart at a little after eleven, the pianist having a job that got her up early. The drummer and her both cautioned Anne to arrive to the paying gig on time on Wednesday, the drummer accompanying his caution with a smile, the pianist with a frown, then they waved and left. Anne wrapped up well in her jacket after loosening the strings on her bass and putting it back in it's case. She pulled her scarf out of it's pocket and wound it around her neck with a sigh. Her voice hurt a bit, felt scratchy, and she wished that she had time to stop off and get a cup of hot chocolate before heading home. The thought was tempting, but she didn't want to take the time. Mornings came early for her, too.

"Home again, home again, jiggery jig," she said with a smile as Mark climbed off the stack of chairs he had appropriated while they practiced.

"You don't sound too happy about that," he noted.

She shrugged. "Small place for so many people."

"And you don't do well around people."

"That too. I mean, I haven't seen them for years, and now I get to see a whole lot of them. I'm not sad that they're here, but I'm not quite prepared for the visit." She sighed again as they left the building. The shock of the cold night air was bracing and helped keep her from brooding during the walk. She tried to just exist in the moment, enjoy the night, the moons, what stars she could see, but worry kept trying to intrude. How was she going to feed them all? What were they going to do tomorrow? Could she take any extra time off work? Maybe be on call if problems came up, but not actually be in her office? No, that wouldn't work. When they needed her, they needed her immediately. The time it took her to get in to work would be too much.

Drat. She was worrying.

She took a few deep breaths and tried to center herself, to let her mind exist only in the moment. It didn't work as well as she would have liked, but she managed to keep from obsessing over trivial details as she wended her way home. It was just the big things that bothered her, like what was up with Knives, if her friends and coworkers were going to try to kill her again tomorrow. The big things helped crowd out the little worries, and abruptly she wanted the little worries back.

Her apartment was very quiet as she opened the door. The lights were off in the living room, and only the light over the oven was left on in the kitchen. The quiet whirr of the refrigerator seemed very loud, and Anne couldn't suppress the smile that crept over her face.

"What?" mouthed Mark.

"It feels full. Even though it's quiet, it feels full. Like a home."

He rolled his eyes as she crept over to the closed bedroom door. Opening it quietly, she looked in on the occupants of her bed. Alex was curled up on the left side, Meryl at his back and nestled in Vash's arms. Knives rested against his brother's back, and Ace slept curled next to him, a pillow tucked between her knees. The five of them filled her bed completely, like puppies in a litter, and her grin spread even wider at the picture they posed. If they were any sweeter looking, she'd get cavities.

She quietly entered the bathroom and prepared for sleep, then exited to the living room and sat down near the wall. With a sigh she stretched out and rested her head on one arm.

"What are you doing?" hissed Mark from the couch.

She lifted her head and looked at him. "Getting read y to sleep."

"On the floor?"

"The bed is full."

"But it's your bed!"

"They're the guests."

"In your bed!"

"I'm ok with the floor, really. It's not too hard."

"Compared to that bed it is."

"Compared to some beds I've had, it's rather comfy. Warm, here, at least," she said as she adjusted her jacket.

"You are not sleeping on the floor. You get the couch."

She shook her head. "You're a guest, too. I'm fine, Mark. Don't worry." He started to get off the couch. "Stop it. I told you I'm fine."

"I'm not going to sleep up there. You can sleep on the couch or on the floor, but I'm not sleeping comfortably while you're down here."

"But I'm comfortable down here."

"So am I."

"But you just said that you weren't going to sleep comfortably if you weren't on the couch."

"I did not."

"Sleep on the couch, Mark. I'm fine here."

"I'm fine here, too."

She sighed and stayed where she was.

He lay silently for a few minutes, then began to toss and turn a little.

"Get on the couch, Mark," she hissed.

"I'm fine if you're fine," he muttered.

"I'm not saying this to be gallant. You're keeping me awake."

He mumbled something that she pretended not to catch, then got up and sat on the couch. "At least take a cushion for a pillow," he pleaded.

She laughed quietly. "Will that make you feel better?"

"Yes," he said firmly.

"Fine. Throw me a pillow."

It hit her in the face.