Percy looked up at 3468 West Hampton Street in San Francisco, California. So this was home now. It was an old Victorian style manor that had been divided into four different flats…apartments…Percy corrected himself. He must remember they were called apartments. He had procured it several months ago through a muggle agency, just in case he should need it.

Uncertainly he paid the cab driver (overpaid most likely judging by the delighted look on the man's face) and started hobbling awkwardly up the front steps, through the front door, into a small foyer, and through the door that led to his new apartment.

It was a fairly nice flat. Hardwood floors, a little kitchen, and a big bay window overlooking a little garden. It had come furnished, something Percy felt was very important. Nodding his satisfaction Percy placed his briefcase on the little dining table and opened it. He lifted the papers out and put them on the table. Then he formed a fist and smacked the inside of the briefcase hard. The false bottom flew up, and a stack of clothing (muggle in style and all impeccably cut) popped up from the impossibly small enclosure. They flew of their own accord into the bedroom and into various drawers and/or the closet.

Percy watched wistfully the last piece of magic he had performed and was likely to get to perform for a very long time. He wished though that it had been something slightly cooler. Like a security spell. Or fighting off a vampire. Anything other than unpacking. Still, it was practical if nothing else.

Underneath where the clothing had been was a sealed bundle of parchment. Percy grimaced at it and was just about to lift it when he heard a bump outside his door. He tensed immediately and slammed the case shut. Grabbing his crutches he moved as quietly as possible to the door.

His heart was pounding. Dawlish had found him! With no wand, no help and a broken leg to boot. Not to mention the vendetta he had incurred the last time they had met…was that only a week ago? It was rather hopeless. Still, it was better to go out and surprise him then let Dawlish find him cowering uselessly in a place without magical reinforcements.

Taking a deep breath he took a firm grip on the doorknob, threw it open and yelled. "HAH..argh!" his cry was cut off mid "hah", as he found himself nearly falling over a form ensconced in metallic green crouched low to the ground. With great effort and much reliance on the hated crutches he managed to stay upright.

"Son of a….!" gasped out the figure on the floor. A decidedly female figure, Percy realized. In fact…was that…?

"Are you crazy?" the girl demanded furiously.

"You!" cried Percy in shock.

"Yes…me." The girl said defiantly.

"But…but…you speak English!"

"Ooh, two for two man. Now guess my hair color." She said sarcastically.

"What were you doing pretending to be German?" thundered Percy.

"I don't know…what were you doing calling me a trashy tourist?" she shouted back.

Percy flushed hotly as he thought back to some of the things he had said on the plane.

"Oh, I guess that thought wasn't supposed to pop into my pretty little head." She said sardonically.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded to know.

"I live here." She informed him haughtily.

"No you don't! I live here!"

She rolled her heavily lined eyes. "Believe it or not Winston, it is possible for two different people to live in the same apartment building at one time." She informed him scathingly.

Percy turned on his heel to storm back into his apartment but unfortunately this caused his back to start spasming painfully. He cried out and hung on to the door frame.

"Ok, easy there, let me help you." The girl told him grudgingly.

Percy did not find this agreeable but as he was not sure that he could make it to the couch on his own he allowed her to help him there.

"When was the last time you took a pill?" she asked him.

Percy shrugged painfully. "I don't know…" he grimaced. "That one on the plane I suppose."

"Well can you take another one?" she asked.

"How should I know?" he snapped.

"What does it say on the pill bottle?" she persisted.

"I don't know!" he growled. "Look for yourself, its on the table!"

"Oh thank you for your permission to put you out of your misery!" she spat. Nonetheless she rose and looked where Percy had placed the things he took out of his briefcase.

"You freak! This says you're supposed to take two every four hours! No wonder you're in pain!"

Percy breathed in irritably. This girl was not very agreeable.

"And have you even opened this one?" she persisted, holding up a second bottle.

"I hardly need more than one type of medication." Percy pronounced the new word slowly and with distaste.

"Um, these are antibiotics! You have to take them." She said incredulously.

"I told you I don't need them." Percy insisted.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Great. The James Dean of Amoxicillin. Well listen up rebel without a clue, when a doctor gives you antibiotics…it means you need them! And when you get some nasty-ass infection do not come crying to me about it!"

"Why would I come crying to you?" he demanded to know

"I don't know Winston, why are you crying to me now?"

Percy could feel the pain escalating, along with the heat in his face.

"Fine! Give me both! I don't care! I just need something now!"

The girl stomped to the kitchen, threw open a cupboard, slammed a cup down on the counter, filled it with water from the tap, slammed the cupboard shut and then stomped back to the living room where Percy was beginning to writhe.

She slapped three pills into his palm and then handed him the glass, which he used to down the medicine.

He closed his eyes against a fresh wave of pain and the two lapsed into awkward silence.

At last Percy spoke stiffly. "I beg your pardon for yelling. I thought you might be an intruder."

The girl snorted at this, which caused Percy to color again, but before he could shout something at her she answered. "Its ok. It was a little odd, my being on the floor in front of you're apartment and all."

Percy opened one eye. "Why were you on the floor?"

"I'm house sitting. The girl who lives next-door is a friend of mine and she's gone for the next couple months. Anyway, she left her spare-key on top of your doorframe for me. I dropped it." She informed him.

"Ah." Percy acknowledged slightly embarrassed. "Also, about the things I said earlier, when we were in the air…."

She waved her hand and cut him off. "Forget it. I'll ignore your in flight behavior if you ignore mine." She told him smiling a little.

Percy nodded. "It's a deal."

"Ok, well, if you're all set…."she said moving to leave.

"Oh…er…yes…um…" Percy began, not meeting her eyes.

"Thank you." She told him.

"Hmm?" he asked confusedly.

"I believe the phrase you are looking for is 'thank you'".

"Oh. Er…yes…Thank you."

"Cate." She supplied helpfully.

Percy was unsure how to respond.

"Sorry, I forgot. Shakespeare doesn't care about names…." She said derisively.

"That was the wanker, not me…I thought we were pretending that didn't happen!" He reminded her.

"Oh yeah, he who offers lovin' and Indian food to poor naive foreign girls. Anyway, you were saying?' she prompted.

"Yes yes, thank you Cate." He said feeling exasperated.

"You're welcome Winston." Cate told him heading for the door.

"My name is not Winston! Its Per…" he stumbled over that near mistake. "Spencer. Spencer Carrington." He told her grandly.

She curtsied. "I'll see you around Winston…but hopefully not too often, you give me a little bit of a headache."

"Mutual I'm sure." He answered disgruntled.

And then, for some inexplicable reason, Cate grinned. Before Percy could think of how his face should respond she was out the door.