A/N: Well, this is a really, really short chapter, kind of an intermission to the rest of the story and kind of not. Also written really, really fast, in like, 20 minutes. I don't think it's all that bad, really, but it probably could use some proofreading first. And since there is no proofreader available at this time, well such is my luck. No big deal I suppose. There's one particular scene from the movie that I did use and sort of twist to my liking in this chapter, which I think works pretty well. It might not, I dunno. Anyway, forgive any mistakes and its relative shortness. Longer chapter next time I promise. Happy Halloween!

Chapter 7 – Intermission

Filia leaned back against the wall, sipping a hot cup of tea and surveying the small room. This had become sort of a sanctuary for her. Not only a place where she worked on finding a way to make some money, but a place where she could also lose herself in her work. While her hands crafted pots, jars, and vases, all of which were lined up against the opposite wall, her mind drifted off into other things. It was almost like meditation, in a way. When she was finished, she felt refreshed, renewed, and ready to start on another one.

Indeed, she'd found her calling, with a little help, of course. It was funny, somehow…her mindset of her resident ghost had changed considerably. Perhaps it was because he, himself, seemed to have changed considerably. Why was that, she wondered. It was quite strange, and something she couldn't quite figure out. She wondered if it was because of the woman he once knew long ago…the one he had told her about, the one who had owned a pottery shop. Filia felt an inexplicable kinship with her; someone who had broken free of a tyrannical authority figure and lived her own life.

Her curiosity was sparked, ever since the ghost had told her about this woman. Now several unanswered questions filled Filia's head. What was this woman like? Was she romantically involved with the ghost? What were her dreams, her fears, and her accomplishments? Did she have children? What became of her in the end?

Filia, for some odd reason unknown even to her, wanted desperately to know the answers to these questions. But she could not bring herself to ask him. She was afraid of angering him, for she had a feeling that it was a touchy subject with him. It was slightly obvious, in his tone of voice whenever he briefly would mention her that their relationship had been an intense, complex one that possibly ended tragically.

It was so romantic! And Filia was a hopeless romantic at heart.

But still she couldn't ask him. She had succeeded in not angering him thus far; in fact, it was quite the reverse. He delighted in making her so furious that she could hardly see straight. And all she could do was stand there and fume; after all, how easy was it to harm a ghost? Come to think of it, she didn't recall even trying. She'd assumed that anything she threw at him would merely go straight through and smash into the wall.

No matter; she would find revenge one day. Or forget about it and go on, as she tried to do so often.

Still, there were those questions that she wanted to ask him, and a small part of her was afraid that any personal questions she might ask might bring back unwanted bad memories for him. As annoying as he was, she hated to see anything suffering. So what was she to do, then? How was she going to bring up the subject without causing an argument or something to that extent?

Filia sighed, and finished the last of her tea. She supposed that she ought not to worry about it too much…after all, there were other things she should be thinking about first. It wouldn't be long before the bill collectors would be at her doorstep again, demanding for her to get out. She didn't have much longer until then, and she had to find someone to sell her pottery. She was almost finished with her original quota of 100, having spent hours upon hours painting them to near perfection. They were really quite good works; she was proud of herself.

Someone would surely sell them for her. If worse came to worse, she was considering opening her own store. In truth, she was considering opening her own store, regardless. She didn't really know why, but the idea was very appealing to her. And what a grand sight that would be when dear old grandfather came back and she was now the owner of her own shop, earning her own money, and certainly not at other people's expense! Besides, she was a shrewd businesswoman by nature. Her father had told her as such many times.

A high-pitched beeping noise jolted Filia out of her thoughts, and she immediately rolled her eyes as a dreadful cold feeling swept over her. She knew exactly who that was, and my, oh my, what a surprise. Dear, sweet Mr. Calloway was late this week; normally he arrived right on the dot at three, to 'warn' her about the bill collectors and make general 'accidental' groping motions towards her chest.

Well, her mother hadn't given her that lovely, frilly pink parasol just for looks.

Pasting a smile onto her face, Filia made her way into the front hall, picking up her parasol out of the newly crafted blue vase by the doorway. Silently cursing him, she opened the door and in a voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, she gushed, "Why, Mr. Calloway, what a marvelous surprise. What brings you here on such a lovely day?"

Mr. Calloway smiled a toothy grin and planted a big, wet kiss on her hand. "Ms. Ul Copt, you are as radiant as ever."

Filia wiped her hand on her skirt and replied, "But of course."

He cleared his throat, looking nervously around. "I, ah, came to give you yet another warning, Ms. Ul Copt. I shan't be able to keep the bill collectors at bay much longer. You are certain that you have a way to pay them?"

"I certainly do."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her. He normally didn't. "You have yet to tell me what this method of payment is, madam. As your realtor, it would be wise for you to tell me of these things…"

"As my realtor, you do quite well in making my business your business," she replied pointedly, and planted the tip of her parasol directly at her feet. He swallowed hard, eyeing it with a wary look.

"Shall we go for a walk?" she asked, gesturing towards the garden.

"Ah, of course. But…would you need that? It doesn't look like rain, today…"

"One never knows!" she said cheerfully, and continued to swing it as she walked towards the garden, leaving him behind to stare after it like a man being lead to the slaughter. Finally he gathered his resolve and joined her.

"You've done splendid work to this house," he said. "The garden is lovely."

"I am not the one responsible for it," she said. "My two servants are. They seem to like working with flowers more than I do, because they know I don't have time for it otherwise."

Mr. Calloway scoffed. "Those two buffoons? Planting flowers? Come now, Ms. Ul Copt, what do you take me for? This could only be the work of a woman."

Filia made what could only be described as a growling noise and rounded on him, sticking the parasol directly into his face. "I'll thank you not to refer to my servants as buffoons. They are hardworking, reliable, and honest. They're gentlemen, unlike you! Now if that's all you're going to do is criticize me and my house, then you can leave!"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Now, now, calm down, I meant no ill will. My dear, you must learn to relax. I can tell that these days have been stressful for you. Perhaps you have been up here alone too long."

"I have not been alone!"

"Yes, yes, you have your son and servants, I understand. But I shudder to think of what might happen should an emergency occur. Without the protection of a man…the right man…has to offer, I fear for your safety…"

Filia stared, her eyes wide, with a startled look on her face. "Mr. Calloway…" she said breathlessly.

He grinned, looking extremely hopeful. "Yes?"

She pointed behind him. "There goes your car…over the cliff…"

"WHAT?!" Horrified, he turned to see it just as the car toppled off the cliff and into the sea below. And standing just at the edge was a familiar figure, smiling a most malicious smile, and waving cheerfully.

With a most undignified and girly scream, Mr. Calloway turned tail and ran as fast as he could down the hill, never once slowing down. Filia could not help but chuckle, and feel somewhat grateful. Still, pushing Mr. Calloway's car over the cliff was not a very nice thing to do. A bit of scolding was in order.

So she marched straight over to the ghost, giving him her most reprimanding glare. He shrugged and looked down below at the smashed and floating remains of the car. "What can I say? He must have left it in gear."

"I'm sure he didn't," she replied. "While I must thank you for getting rid of him, I also must thank you very much for turning him on our bad side. Now he'll not only send the bill collectors, but a lawyer with them. They'll most likely come tomorrow to arrest me for destruction of property."

"No they won't. He's too scared of me."

"He doesn't know you very well, does he?"

"I AM scary. Frightening. Remember the first night you were here? You were scared to death, admit it."

She raised her chin in defiance. "I was not. I was simply taken by surprise."

He rolled his eyes. "If you insist." He paused a moment, then asked, "Say, was he really proposing to you?"

She stared at him, her eyebrow raised in amusement. "And why would you like to know?"

He shrugged again. "It doesn't matter to me…I would hope you wouldn't sign him on."

Her eye twitched, and her face was an instant five shades of red. "And what makes you think that I would? He's the lowest of the low…a man like him, for me? Never! You must think little of me to ever think that I would marry a spineless little twit like him."

An impish smile crossed his lips. "Well it's a good thing, too…I'd feel sorry for him."

"WHY YOU!!"

Without pause, the cute frilly parasol connected with the side of his face with a resounding CRACK. She stood fuming, breathing hard and her eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. He, on the other hand, was stunned, and stared at her in surprise.

"That…hurt," was all he could say, rubbing his cheek.

She caught her breath, trying to calm herself down. "GOOD!" she yelled, and stomped off towards the house.

He watched her go, still rubbing the red mark on the side of his face. He was actually more surprised than hurt, but it still stung. "Hmm…looks like your aim has improved considerably."

That's all, folks! Reviews, please?