Author's Note: What's this? I hear you cry, "A new chapter of 'Inevitability'? I thought the author was dead!"

Not so. Just busy as all heck and dealing with a horrendous case of writer's block And the dreaded Real Life Monster.

But here it is, shiny, new and just for you.

Kevin: I thought you were just being lazy these last few months

Author: Hush up and behave or I'll make you houseshare with Kid Muscle in the future

Kevin: Pleaseenjoythisnextchapter!

Author: Attaboy.

"OK," Micky said, "You got there on time, took a Tart aux Fruits that you made as a gift. Then Robin Mask more or less accused you of being a gold digger, Kevin took you on a tour of the house, the pair of you wound up having a pillow fight on the bed of his old bedroom, then you both went and made extremely awkward small talk until it was late enough for you both to leave without seeming too eager to leave"

They were sat in the booth they used often enough for it to be considered their 'usual' one at the penguin café. They had been at their dance class about half an hour earlier…but then the instructor had seemed to have another heart attack from 'sheer artistic stress' and had been carted off to Intensive Care (it would turn out to not be another heart attack but a bad case of indigestion, but that still meant an early finish to their day)

The pair of them had headed to the Penguin Café mostly out of habit, but mainly because it was freezing cold and raining outside and it was the nearest, warmest place that was open on the way to the tube station

"That's about it, yes," Theresa nodded, Fair Trade Hot Chocolate sitting untouched in front of her

"But then Kevin invited him to your house to be polite, which is what he told his father, but really to get his own back by showing him how you and your grandfather really are"

"That's correct"

"You're OK with this?" Micky asked, scratching his head in mock confusion

"Not really, but there's not a lot I can do now without seeming rude, is there?"

Micky thought deeply for a few minutes whilst polishing off his wholemeal scone (then attempted to start on Theresa's, which earned him a quick smack to the hand) before he finally said:

"How about Quentin and I come for moral support? Will that make you feel better about the whole thing?"

"Yes," his friend replied almost instantly, "yes it would"

"You invited Micky and Quentin to tea the same day as my father?"

"That a problem?" Theresa asked, she was lying on her back on her bed, in typical student style, her book held above her head as she read it, and she was dressed in her preferred sleeping attire: an old baggy 60's band tee-shirt and a pair of soft shorts.

"I'm surprised," he told her, he himself was sat on the blue/grey carpeted floor doing sit ups, more as a way of combating stress than as a part of his usual training, "I'm not sure what my father would think"

"Do you care?" she lowered her book to let it rest on her stomach and tilted her head just so, enough to look at him upside down. It was a silly pose, but her gaze and tone were serious

"I…don't know." He paused, sitting up and resting his hands on his knees, "I don't know what to do or think"

The rain was still hammering down outside, feeling more like sleet. It was becoming more and more obvious that winter was definitely here, and thus, Kevin had opted to not go for a run, lest he get a not-lecture from Theresa about his health if he kept running in freezing cold weather.

He heard the movement of cloth against cloth as Theresa shifted to sit up, the sound of a drawer opening and shutting and, the soft pad-pad noise as she walked the short distance to him and pile moving as she knelt.

"I know what you should do," she said,

"Oh really?" he sighed

"Yes. You should stick your nose in the air and shame the devil, but first you should move to sit with your back against the bed because you know you're too tall for what I'm going to do to you."

Obediently he moved to the requested position and she moved to sit on the bed behind him, and began to very gently brush his hair.

This wasn't something that happened very often, too much time in the wrestling ring and the dmp had left Kevin ever so slightly paranoid about anyone being near the back of his head with something that could be considered a blunt instrument, but he'd found, after a very bad bout of 'flu, that he didn't mind if Theresa brushed his hair for him now and then

"Put my nose in the air and shame the devil? What does that mean?" he asked finally, finding the rhythm of the brush through his hair was doing a good job of calming him down.

"It means don't give a damn about what your father or anyone else thinks. You don't when you're working, why should this be different?"

"Mmmm…"

"You've invited him and it's too late to uninvited him, but it doesn't mean we can't invite other people, like Micky and Quentin, we can even invite Frankie if we want to"

"…Really?"

"This, Kevin, is not an Estate, it is my home. Gramps and I like our home to be full of people we like and who like us. You know that. Nobody said Afternoon Tea had to be an awkward meeting of people who barely tolerate each other. And," she continued softly, "Really it's win-win. If he likes us, that's cool. If he doesn't, then it's his problem and we never have to invite him ever again."

There was silence as he processed this and let her continue until she deemed that if she brushed it any longer, his hair would fall out.

"When," Kevin asked, turning to hug her, "did you become so wise?"

"Born with it," she smiled

"You're really going to invite Frankie?"

"Yes. It'd be an act of mercy on my part," she laughed "I had a text from him earlier, he's reduced to watching daytime television and thinks he's about to go barmy or, and he says this is worse-cast-scenario, he'll develop a chavvy accent, stop bathing, shave his head start drinking White Lightning, eating Pot Noodles, using words like 'sunnink' or 'innit' and wearing fake Burberry baseball caps."

"Frankie Platinum's new Chav-look" he tried and failed to imagine Frankie in a nylon shell-suit with the legs of the trousers tucked into his socks and completely and utterly failed, "sorry, I don't think it'll gain him many fans"

"And thus inviting him to tea here, at the same time as your dad is an act of mercy. Come on Kevin, think of poor Frankie. It's your good deed for the month"

"I wasn't aware I needed to do good deeds"

"Oh, yes. Good deeds really count. Particularly towards earning you kisses"

"I wasn't aware I needed to earn those either"

"Well, my darling, there are kisses and kisses and when you do good deeds you get kisses"

"Oh well then, " he reached up and took the hairbrush from her, and turning around to face her, "bring on the good deeds."

Author: I know, I'm a tease, cutting it off as we get to a good bit

Theresa: But I thank you for it. I like my private life to stay private; it's why I avoid paparazzo's

Kevin: And destroyed Jaqueline McMadd's video footage that time and managed to get her banned from setting foot in London for the next 10 years

Author: Oi! Haven't written that Short Story out yet. No spoiling it!