Disclaimer: I repeat, I do not own Cardcaptor Sakura or any rights to it. Those belong to CLAMP. Laurel Seer belongs to Furuto and I have permission to use her. If you want a better filled out disclaimer look in the two previous chapters.

A/N: After you repeat so many times it gets dull. I'm very blunt so just read on. You'll get the idea eventually.

Stolen or Taken?

By: Meaningless Colors

Chapter 3: Humiliation and circus of feelings

"Well. You're—"

"What? Intimidating?" Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Is it so visible on my face?!" Laurel laughed softly at Kaho's shock. Kaho's amber eyes widen at the display of emotion.

"Not that much. I've just been told that before. This is not the first time someone hesitated to tell. You should see the business men who still try to keep their wits. They think they can intimidate me. I can't say I'm not Miss Mizuki. I can do about every impression that you might know. Oh, thank you Margaret." She sipped from the steaming mug. Kaho just looked at hers.

"What us this?" She asked, eyeing the liquid.

"Turkish coffee. It's a bit strong. Care for a crumpet?" Margaret had come back with a plate of biscuits.

"I'll leave you ladies to your business. Nice see you again Ms. Seer," Margaret said, turning her attention to the new customer. Sipping, Kaho choked for a second and started to sputter and cough.

"Not for me," she gasped.

"I did say it was 'a bit' strong," adding air quotes to 'a bit'. "Two sugars and some cream?" Kaho held out her cup, allowing Laurel to pour the thick cream in.

"No difference." Kaho pushed it away, telling Laurel she would have no more to do with it.

"Oh. Where were we?" A pregnant pause issued from their table allowing the words and fragments from other conversations surround them. "Yes. Your problems?" Kaho sat back and said one word; "dreams."

"The same?"

"Yes-s-s." This was getting spooky. This woman knew too much about her. Noticing the fear that flashed in her client's amber eyes, Laurel brought up a proposition.

"Why don't you think about what you want to say and tell me tomorrow. Nothing fiction though. It will obscure my advice." Kaho looked for the words in her head. Racked her brain to find the correct answer to Laurel's dismissal, yet found none. Found nothing to say to this woman. "I'll cover the bill," she said with a hint of unconscious superiority. Kaho stood abruptly up, and with a brief farewell, vanished, leaving only the chiming of the wind on the bells that hung above the doorway and a swinging door. Laurel could only laugh. Restraining the desire, she called for the bill.

Kaho walked briskly away from the café feeling her blood creep to her cheeks. She rubbed her temples in exasperation. She tried to sort out the events of the past hour. A very long hour. She could only feel humiliation and fury. And nervous? The question was hesitant to form in her head. She rarely felt her nerves and foolish. FOOLISH? Kaho Mizuki? Preposterous! Yet she had to face the fact head on that she was just spoken to like a mother with a naughty child. THAT WOMAN! How can someone be so rude? She acted like Kaho had a mental illness.

"GRAND STREET!" the conductor called. Jumping off the trolley, she landed smack in front of the iron cast gate, muttering about how rude and what a waste of time that woman was. If someone were to look at her now, they could have sworn that the woman was crazy.

A/N: Short, so it won't kill you to read it. Kaho's personality is obscured here because before she never lost her temper. Like I said, (Or maybe indicated, hinted, etc.) Kaho has gone through a lot and now she is beginning to let it all out.

I'd like to thank Alucard's Familiar for her/his review. I know very well that I am blunt. Black and white. I apologize for the changing of tenses, I seem to do that quite often. My English not very good and it being my second language makes it even more difficult. I am not saying that as an excuse though. You might have mistaken something because I am not in eighth grade but in ninth. In Japan, ninth grade is usually the senior year of junior high. My paragraphs are long because they pertain to one subject. I wonder if you would like to be my editor. Once again I thank you.