A/N: Not going to lie, I threw a bit of exposition in this chapter, to shed some light on the issues Jeanette has with her mother and her sister. I'm a little sick and tired of getting messages from people, (on deviantArt) who have only read chapter one, about how she has a bad relationship with her mother and her sister. Come on, guys; I don't care if you have wonderful relationships with YOUR family, and that's what you look for in characters in order to better relate to them. That doesn't mean that my characters have to have perfect family lives. The fact of the matter is, not everyone has perfect, wonderful relationships with their parents or their siblings or extended family. My characters shouldn't have to. That doesn't mean that Jeanette's not going to try to patch things up with her sister a little. But that doesn't mean she has to have a perfect relationship with her family.

Chapter 21: No Call-Screening

[Jeanette's POV:]

Settling back into my townhouse apartment and my work routine after assisting a super-criminal in a search-and-rescue on the island of a mad scientist seemed a little...dull in a way. Despite my anger at the time, the whole thing had also held an element of thrill and excitement of sorts. In hindsight, it certainly could qualify as an adventure by some measures. One that could easily fit into a book of course, the sort I'd been reading since childhood.

But coming to that realization worried me.

Was I losing it? Had I slowly been going crazy since that first encounter with the Joker and now I was beginning to snap? Or was my normal, quiet little life not enough for me any more? I, Jeanette Harker, had befriended criminals and consorted with werewolves. Was I going to start preferring their company to that of my books?

"Augh..." I groaned on the fourth day after the incident with Croc and Eva and Pendragon. "Jeanette, you're over-analyzing this whole thing. Just...find a book, get some apple cider or something, sit down, and read."

The trouble there was trying to pick one book from my collection, but this is the curse of every bibliomaniac. After a moment or two of digging on a shelf of classics, my eye fell on Treasure Island. I frowned a moment in hesitation, then gave in. There at least, was an adventure I knew would not run the risk of ending with my death. I grabbed the book, brewed a cup of tea, and settled into the couch with the intent of getting lost in a beloved, familiar story.

But I had barely gotten more than two pages in before the phone ringing interrupted my reading. I glanced up, feeling my nerves already beginning to fray, and sighed in futility.

"Yes, I suppose I am losing it. One of these days I should probably look into therapy." I muttered to myself. "At least anger management therapy, if nothing else."

The phone rang over and over insistently, and I groaned when the caller ID revealed it to be my mother on the other end of the line. Well, there was no avoiding her for eternity.

"Hello...?" I murmured as I answered the call.

"Jeanette, honey?"

"Hey, Mum."

"Jeanette Marie Harker, I haven't heard from you in weeks! Where have you been? Why haven't you answered any of my calls? You could have been sick, or homeless, and I wouldn't know! You could have been dead, for all I knew!"

You have no idea. I thought wryly.

"After all, that horrible maniac's escaped from Arkham again—"

"Which horrible maniac, mother?"

"—and he could be anywhere! Jeanette, I'm worried for you! Living all by yourself in that tiny little apartment in this city..."

"I'm not entirely alone, Mum." I replied, feeling a touch defensive. "I mean, Jesse and Cat visit me often."

There was a pause, then my mother's shrill, hysteric voice went cold.

"Oh, yes. Your relatives on your father's side." She said frostily, and I allowed myself a scowl. My mother had been ever so bitter since the divorce, and bringing up any of my Macallister relations was a good way to get her irritated. "Well, that's better than nothing, I suppose."

"They're family." I tried to remind her, but I may as well have had a wall for conversation, for all that she heard what I was saying.

"I wish you at least had a boyfriend or something real, Jeanette. Someone who could protect you, so you're not living alone." She sighed. Several thoughts went through my mind then, and I tried to squash down the most obvious one, involving Lance Pendragon at the mention of that "boyfriend" word. I rolled my eyes at the "something real" bit, and part of me swelled indignantly at the thought that my own mother considered me totally helpless simply because I was living by myself.

"How is Michelle?" I asked coolly, and she went dead quiet for a moment.

"She's fine." Came the evasive answer. "Doing well, of course. I wish you two would start talking again. I hate playing your go-between, Jeanette."

"You're lucky I talk to you, Mother!" I snapped, finally losing my short temper. "Years and years of shoving down our throats that if we got pregnant as teens that we should take responsibility for our mistakes and do the right thing, and then the second Michelle gets pregnant, you just let Grandma push her to get an abortion?"

She went totally quiet again, and I had a guess that she was flinching away from the phone. Serve her right.

"Would you say that's not somewhat hypocritical of you?" I hissed, seething.

"It was." She murmured quietly. "Truthfully, Grandma did not push Michelle as much as I did. I was still bitter about your father leaving. I didn't want to put up with Michelle's pregnancy or helping her raise a baby while I was still trying to look after the both of you."

This was something I had never heard before. My stomach roiled and I had to hold back an involuntary gag.

"Jeanette?"

"Then maybe it shouldn't be Michelle that I shut out," I said, shaking, "Maybe I ought to shut out you. I cannot believe you, Mother."

"Jeanette, don't be ridiculous! You would have been an aunt at the age of fifteen." She answered impatiently.

"And yet, you never stopped to ask me if maybe I was excited by the prospect. You never stopped to ask if maybe Michelle and her boyfriend had been trying to talk about really taking responsibility between them and being parents."

Again, I was met with silence, and this time, I had had enough.

"Goodbye, Mother." I snapped, ending the call. It was with a heavy heart I sank back onto the couch, feeling numb and not knowing what to think. It wasn't an uncommon thought in my mind that perhaps I had been unfairly giving the cold shoulder to my elder sister all these years, but to have that confirmed was worse. I felt sick to my stomach with guilt and disgust. I didn't want to completely disrespect or think ill of my mother, but now it was harder than ever.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, staring at nothing and brooding. Perhaps it was only minutes, maybe it was hours. But the ring of the phone again interrupted my thoughts, and I stared at it for a moment, wondering. Surely my mother wasn't calling back in hopes I would answer and the conversation would pick back up. I picked up the phone to check the caller ID, and found a number I didn't recognize. For a moment, I considered not answering at all, but then what would I do? Go back to brooding? I hit the answer button, bringing the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Miss Harker?" Pendragon's voice spoke clearly over the phone, freezing me on the spot. "Are you there?"

"Would I have answered if I hadn't been?"

"Ahh. Er, right." He said awkwardly. "Stupid of me...wasn't thinking...Look, Miss Harker, I've called to apologize to you."

"Don't," I answered, sighing as the tension left me. "You shouldn't have to apologize. You had a right to keep your secrets, Lance. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I overreacted and directed all of my anger and frustration upon you when you did not deserve it. Please, forgive me."

The line went dead silent for several moments.

"Lance? Mister Pendragon, are you still there?"

"Oh, y-yes, yes." He stuttered quickly. "Sorry, I was stunned for a moment. You did not have to apologize, milady. But I accept your apology nonetheless and I forgive you wholeheartedly."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he said warily, "Apologies are not the only reason I've called and bothered you."

"Oh?" I prompted. "Then pray tell, please do continue, Mister Pendragon."

"Miss Harker, if the events of the weekend are past us, would you consider embarking on a date with me Friday evening?"

"'Embarking?'" I echoed, giving a small snort of laughter.

"Ah, right. 'Barking.' Poor choice of words on my part."

I bit my lower lip, trying not to smile. I of course, found it ironic because of Treasure Island, but for now I would let him think what he wanted. He was cuter that way, anyhow.

"It's perfectly fine, Lance."

"But...will you? Consider a date with me, that is?" He asked.

"Perhaps." I answered noncommittally. "Give me a reason why I should consider it."

"A reason?" He echoed.

"Yes, a reason. Convince me of your intentions."

He abruptly went quiet, stammering a little, then hissed something I couldn't quite hear to some other person. His butler, perhaps? But at last he seemed to compose himself, clearing his throat delicately. And then he said something I had not been expecting.

"She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed," he spoke gently, his voice as soothing as it had been the first time I met him, "She is woman, and therefore to be won."

"Shakespeare?" I guessed in surprise.

"From 'Henry.'" He confirmed, and I paused, feeling my cheeks burn.

"Miss Harker?"

"Haven't I told you to call me Jeanette?"

"Y-yes, Jeanette."

"When were you thinking of having this date, and where?"

"Ah-ah-um..." He stuttered again. "F-Friday night? Six in the evening?"

"That would work." I answered.

"SEE, bro?!" Another voice, slightly muffled, came over the phone. "Told you your dead poet lingo gets the ladies every time."

"Be quiet, Robert!" Lance hissed, and I heard something that sounded rather like a punch being thrown and hitting something.

"Was that your unwashed vampire friend?" I asked.

"Yes." He answered with a huff. "Do you like Italian, Miss Harker?"

"Who doesn't?" I chuckled.

"Mio's, then? Near City Hall?"

"Mio's? I can hardly afford—"

"My treat." He cut me off. "After all, I feel obligated."

"Very well." I said, a grin spreading across my face. "Mio's at six on Friday. Your treat. I look forward to it, Lance."

"Thank you, Jeanette." He replied.

"Thank you," I answered. "I hate to cut this call short, but I have to call my sister and talk with her. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. Actually, I should call my sister as well. She's probably been causing havoc up at the mansion with her unsavory friends, knowing her. And I refuse to have the place looking a shambles, as I would like to show you around my home."

I arched my eyebrows, feeling a little wary again.

"Oh. Of-of course."

"I shall see you on Friday, Miss Harker. Until then, I bid you adieu."