A/N: Very special thanks to budlou, UrieNanashi, Crackerjax, Mad Hatter Massacre, Gracie, ThatGirlWhatLikesSherlock, DD, Guest, TIgrimn, RandomCitizen, Turtle Kid the Woolgatherer, JaquesRiddle, and Callie for your reviews. :D

I just want to warn you guys that there are some tricky aspects of this chapter involving technology, and I don't know as much about technology as I should; I hope it's at least believable and not too unrealistic. You'll know what I mean when you read it. :P

Enjoy the update!

The Curious Misunderstanding

Chapter Six

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The afterglow of the magical afternoon with Jim and the promise of being able to contact him in the future for further meetings was short-lived when I received an email from Nigel stating that he was cutting his holiday short due to an emergency at the university, and to have all my abstracts ready for presentation a week before I initially planned to have them done. In a mad dash full of late nights and cancelled lunch and coffee dates with my Dad, I was somehow able to get everything finished in time for our meeting.

But when I walked into Nigel's office, I could see that the holiday in Knossos had seemed to cause far more stress than the anticipated relaxation; he was tan, as though he had spent the entire time out in the sun, but there was an unmistakable air of agitation about him and in his office. As I came inside, he was putting eye-drops in his eyes, and I noticed that his desk was hit with a paper and book bomb, which was unusual as Nigel always kept his office in pristine order. I stood there surveying the scene, perplexed, and once he blinked away the drops in his eyes, he raised his eyebrows at me, as though he'd completely forgotten we'd planned to meet. "Nola."

"Hello Nigel," I said, easing him a smile and approaching the desk, feeling slightly apprehensive about taking my usual seat across from him for fear of disrupting anything. "How was your trip?"

"It was Heaven on earth compared to what's going on around here," he said in a deeply exasperated tone, and even though I probably shouldn't have been, I felt relieved; it was so obviously something major (likely nothing to do with me) if he had to cut his holiday short. I knew he wouldn't have come rushing back just because of his failure of a student. But I felt bas as he began to rub his face with both hands and then held them out to my imploringly, as though I was the only one in the world who could solve the problem, whatever it was. "I don't know if you've heard, but the university's system has been infected with malware."

I blinked at him, trying to assess what he meant by the tone in his voice, but it was too difficult to tell. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it means that, due to someone's incompetence, whether it be our anti-malware system or someone down in IT, data from the past couple of months on several servers has been completely corrupted, and we're unsure we can retrieve anything."

I stared at him, at his sunburned face, and at this hand on the mousepad of his laptop and his glasses perched on the end of his nose. I then looked at his laptop, and even though it was true I didn't know anything about computers except for some of the most basic functions on my own laptop, I knew enough at least that university's anti-malware system would have been the best in the business, due to the amount of data and the significance of the data it was meant to protect. How was any of this remotely possible?

He couldn't have meant what I thought he meant...he couldn't have meant that everything had been...gone.

"Of course it had to happen while I was on holiday," Nigel said, grounding it out through his teeth as he was obviously reading an explanatory email. "So I get back here to discover that a good deal of my work and student work in unusual and inaccessible. As if this semester couldn't get any worse, but there it is."

I gaped at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I leaned forward a little, tempted to ask him to show me the information so that I knew he wasn't just taking the piss. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, frankly," Nigel said, sighing and taking off his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. "If it were up to me, we would go back to doing everything old school, before the digital age, when everything had a paper trail."

I could tell...I could just tell by the defeated tone of Nigel's voice and the way he looked so stressed and so done at the same time...he was being truthful. He was being completely truthful. But I was too afraid to open my mouth and ask the one question burning in the back of my mind. It would have been too easy, it would have been a dream come true, but there was no way it was possible.

Did this mean that my failed defense, all the marks and comments and any evidence whatsoever...were hey gone? Corrupted? Unable to be retrieved?

"So what does that mean?" I asked after awhile, completely unsure what else to say or do, given his current state of frustration.

"It means," he began. "That a formal investigation will be done as well as a full attempt of data retrieval," he looked at me down the length of his nose, pointedly, with just the slightest of a twinkle in his eye, as though he knew he were about to answer my prayers. "But essentially, the results of your defense are gone."

I shook my head in disbelief; even though in the back of my head I had to hold back the urge to jump out of my seat and dance around his office like a nutter, another part of me couldn't believe what I was hearing. If that data was actually gone and they couldn't retrieve it...

"Gone..." I whispered, completely unaware that it was lingering on the tip of my tongue. I twas like my mind demanded confirmation, like it wanted Nigel to reach across the desk and slap me across the ace, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

Nigel nodded and began to shift his books and papers around, as though to create some sort of workable environment on his desktop. "And not all the members of your committee have remnants of their results, and if they do, their data too has been corrupted."

"When did this happen?" I asked in an amazed tone, trying to recall if I had wished upon a shooting star at any time in the past week.

"They don't know, they're still trying to make that determination," he said.

"So what do we do?" I asked, dying to know what this all meant after it was said and done.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly, continuing to shuffle around his papers and books. "I'm not sure yet...in all my years of supervisory, this has never happened before," he said, and although the tone in his voice made my heart sink a little, he gave me yet another pointed look. "I'm still in discussion with the dean as what to do, but essentially it seems as though we've got a second chance."

A second chance? "You mean-"

"We'll schedule for a second defense, like we talked about," he said, holding out his hands to explain, as he always did. "Obviously we have to taking into some account that the result of your first defense was a failing grade, but if that data can't be retrieved, the results of the first defense will be non-existent. What we may have to do in that case is determine your second defense to be really your first defense, but with a marked penalty."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I simply couldn't believe it. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Nigel said, and even though I could see that he was pleased for me, he was obviously also upset with the loss of all his work, so much so that he couldn't, in all good conscience, tell me what a miracle this all was. "I just got out of a panicked meeting with the dean, trying to determine what we're going to do, and that's the plan for now," and with that, he did give me a little smile, probably because he could see the ecstasy on my face. "So, we got a second chance, luv. Let's not muck it up."

/

When I called Dad to give him the news, I instead got Judy - one of his top aides - who told me he'd be in meetings for the rest of the afternoon, but she'd of course let him know that I called. But not having someone with whom to share my joy didn't stop me from walking to the shops with a great big smile on my face and picking out all my favourite things with great merriment. I felt like celebrating; I felt like getting completely blitzed and then falling into a coma of happiness and relief for at least two days.

I practically skipped back to my flat with shopping in hand, and my mood was met by Mrs. Penslivy in the front hall as she was bringing in the mail. She greeted me with her usual bright smile. "Hello dear."

"Hello Mrs. Penslivy," I said, kissing her cheek. "You fancy a cuppa?"

I bustled past her towards the staircase, and when I looked back she was considering me with a bit of a frown. "Right now? But you must be so busy."

"Not today," I said, gleefully. "I just got some terrific news this morning. Please come up, I got some scones fresh from the baker."

Leaving the door open behind me, I came into my flat and set down all my treats on the kitchen counter and went about the kitchen practically dancing on my tiptoes, going from sink to fill the kettle and to the wall to put it on. Within a moment, Mrs. Penslivy had come inside, casting a fleeting glance around the state of my flat where most surfaces were covered with books and papers, before she had a seat at my little kitchen table.

"Go on then, tell us about this news you got," she said as I set out plates and cups.

I grinned at her and then fetched the milk and sugar. "I went to see my supervisor this morning, and as it turns out the university's computer system has been infected with a virus."

When I returned to the kitchen table, she considered me with a grave look of concern. "That doesn't sound very good."

"Well, it isn't, really," I said, sitting down with her to set out the scones on a plate while the water boiled. "But it means that the result of my first defense has basically been erased."

She raised her eyebrows, though I couldn't be sure if it was out of shock or relief on my behalf. "Oh," she said, selecting a scone. "So what does that mean for your project?"

"It means that I'll get another chance to defend my thesis with only a penalty. But according to the university's system, that first failed defense is lost."

Mrs. Penslivy considered me while I poured the water into the teapot and brought it to the table. "My goodness," she said with a smile, as though she too couldn't believe it. "That is good news indeed."

"Isn't it?" I said, on the verge of giggling. "I was so overjoyed that I could have kissed my supervisor."

"But how could something like that happen?" She asked, leaning forward.

I shrugged as I peeked under the teapot lid. "They don't know yet," I poured tea into her waiting cup. "They're still looking into it."

She gave me a very sweet smile. "Well, I'm delighted it worked out for you, dear. You've worked so hard. I should have brought brandy up for the tea."

I watched her fix her cup with a splash of milk and two spoons of sugar, and even though it made me smile, it reminded me that the last time I had her in for a cup of tea had been a very long time ago. I tried to have her in for tea often, though with school work it had become almost a non-existent courtesy. She always had me over for tea or cake or cookies or anything she had, really - and she always insisted that I tell her everything about what was going on in my life. She had become a dear friend and confidant, almost like a beloved extended relative, and those little visits had become quite important to me, as my mother lived out of the country and I didn't have any grandmothers left.

"Oh," she said, after we'd had our fist sip of tea. "Did you speak to your handsome gentleman today?"

I looked away from her so she wouldn't see the blush across my nose. Truthfully I hadn't even thought about Jim that day; the joyous news from Nigel was far too overpowering. But the mention of Jim made him appear in my mind's eye, flush pink lips smiling at me, chocolate brown eyes fluttering at me from behind thick lashes, and a hand in mine and his lips grazing my cheek...it was enough to make me really swoon, but luckily I was able to hold it back.

"Not today, no," I said, looking off at nothing in particular, dreamily. "But I'm thinking maybe I'll give him a ring."

Not right away, since our afternoon in Russell Square had been very recent and I didn't want to give off the impression of being needy or clingy, and certainly not a busy gentleman like Jim. And, even though I was sure he'd like to hear the good news, I was mindful that a day-by-day update on my school career would definitely prove to be quite annoying.

"You didn't?" Mrs. Penslivy's voice interrupted my daydreaming. "He came by."

That brought me back to the table, and I frowned at her. "What, today?"

"Yes, luv," she chewed on a bite of scone. "He stopped by when you were out this morning, said he'd see you another time."

I stared at her, completely confused. Jim had been there at my flat that morning/ Seemed strange that he wouldn't give me a little notice...but then I remembered the impromptu breakfast and considered that perhaps he was looking to surprise me, and suddenly I was way more disappointed than perhaps I should have been that I hadn't been there to greet him.

"He's quite a charming man, my goodness," Mrs. Penslivy continued, hiding a wicked little smile behind her teacup. "Such beautiful blue eyes. Where did you meet him?"

I supped my tea to keep from blurting out the truth about finding him after he'd been pushed out a window. "Oh y'know, just around..." and then something occurred to me, something that Mrs. Penslivy had mentioned. "Wait...blue eyes, you say?"

"Yes dear, your lovely chap with the car," she said, smiling. "He has such big blue eyes, and what a smile on him too."

My excitement plummeted a little. Oh, so it hadn't been Jim after all. It had been Sebastian.

But, if Sebastian had stopped by, perhaps he was looking to pick me up and take me to see Jim?

"Did he say anything?" I asked, my curiosity piqued and my reason for calling Jim synched.

"No," she said, sipping her tea once more. "Just that he was hoping to speak to you. He said he'd call you another time."

I watched her pick apart her scone while mine laid untouched next to my tea. Sebastian stopped by to speak to me? But why didn't he just call, in that case? Perhaps it was something very important he wanted to discuss, though I had no idea what that could have been.

"Did he have anyone else with him?" I asked, completely out of curiosity. "Anyone in the back of the car?"

I could see by her expression that she considered it, but after a moment she shook her head. "No, not that I can recall," and then she gave me a heartfelt smile with the drop of her shoulders, and she reached over and took my hand in hers. "You need not look so glum, darling; I'm sure he'll give you a call soon."

I did feel a little glum, but I tried to push it back and not let it ruin that wondrous day. Sebastian was not a man without resources or boundaries; I had every faith that if the matter was important, he would be sure to tell me.

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