A/N: A word of advice to fellow fanfiction authors with writer's block: keep a dream journal! Write down the dreams you have at night, analyze the symbolism, practice lucid dreaming if you can—if you can't, just let the craziness inspire creativity. You never know when you'll have a dream that can make you crank out more fanfiction! This chapter came from a couple different dreams, but with some tweaking and combining I manage to make it fit in here, so enjoy.

I turned off Pandora on my phone and picked up my notetaker to read a braille book, the song "A Boy Can Dream" by Casey Abrams still running through my head. I'd just opened up a book on music and disability when my phone started to ring. My phone's text-to-speech rattled off the contact: "Erik Carriere". OMG!

I answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, my darling."

Hearing my phangirlified Erik's voice over the phone made me want to squeal, but I held it in. "Hi," I said.

"My mother and her husband and I were—well, they're being obnoxious with their flirting and I've had enough! Could you come over?"

"You want to give them a taste of their own medicine?" I joked.

"I—I really just want to have an excuse to not have to be with them. And—and I want to see you. We're just a couple of houses away, and I haven't seen you in two whole weeks."

Awww. "Okay."

I don't bring my guide dog to another person's house; it's not a public place and I don't always know if the homeowners are allergic or if their animals are okay with some dog entering the territory. I didn't take a cane either, because it was just down the street. I felt a little strange without a mobility aid, but I wasn't sure if I really needed one since there would be a more-than-willing human guide.

Madeleine answered the door. "'Ello."

"Is Erik here?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable. I swear I could feel her condescending look. Grrrr.

"I am Madeleine, boyfriend is Etienne, son is Erik." was her reply.

"May I see Erik?"

Madeleine let out a huff, called in French to Erik somewhere inside (I heard his name and her tone sounded sharp, and I totally guessed because I don't know French), and then grabbed my arm and tugged me inside. I hate it when people just grab me without warning, and so I jumped a little. Jeez, Madeleine probably thinks I'm some weirdo, being blind and hating being touched. Oh how I wish more people understood how startling it was when you were grabbed and steered instead of being asked if you needed help. I could have come in just fine. I mean, as long as Erik was nearby to guide me. No way did I want Madeleine yanking me everywhere. Why wasn't Erik here?

Inside the house, a puppy jumped up on me and Madeleine scolded "Sasha!" Yay, Sasha! I ignored the dog until she'd calmed down, then I bent down to her level and greeted her enthusiastically. My own Treble was just as crazy about new people when out of harness, plus she was much bigger and stronger, so Sasha's excitement didn't phase me. Her tail wagged and she nudged me with her nose as I petted her.

"Mère?" Erik's voice called from somewhere near the tv, which was playing what sounded like a movie (in French though, of course.)

I excitedly moved toward the sound of Erik's voice. Madeleine's hand clamped down on my arm again (she had let go once I was inside and Sasha had run up). Urgh…I wasn't going to be able to stay here long if she had a death grip on me every time I tried to move.

So I touched her fingers on my arm. "It's okay. I got it." Little help here, Erik, please.

Erik said something else in French. Madeleine's manicured and heavily ringed hand dropped my arm as she replied. I could hear the pout on her face. And then her tone of voice changed…sappy sweet as she raised her voice—to call into another room probably.

A minute later, my hunch was confirmed: a man's voice, Etienne's, answered in French, and then he switched to English. (Finally.) "Ah. Hello. You're Lauren? Erik tells us about you."

Awkward silence. Well, I can fill it this time. I stuck out my hand toward Etienne's voice, knowing he had stopped in front of me. "Nice to meet you guys. I met Sasha too. She's sweet…sweet, happy puppy." Talking about puppies makes anyone smile. Ah, ice breakers…really useful sometimes.

Etienne reached forward and shook my hand. "A pleasure," he said.

I felt Erik's arm come around me from the not-Madeleine side. Finally, Erik! I leaned into him and I felt him squeeze me around my shoulders. He started to speak as I looked up at him, "Darling, would you like to go—"

But Etienne, urged by Madeleine it sounded like, continued hastily. "Lauren, we made some cookies earlier…we made a lot. Would you like some?"

Darn…I can't resist homemade cookies. I mean could anyone? "Uh, sure."

Erik walked with me to the kitchen table and pulled out my chair. He sat next to me, which made me happy. There was a plate full of cookies in front of us. A big plate. Jeez, were they trying to keep me down there with them? I had a feeling that Madeleine wanted to interrogate me because…because she's Madeleine.

"What kind are they?" I asked.

"Chocolate chip," said Erik and Etienne at the same time.

I laughed at that (jinx). I reached out to the plate and took a cookie from the top of the pile to understand how big it was—looked like they just dumped the whole sheet onto the plate. "Wow. Erik, you could help me eat these, right?"

Erik giggled. "If you'd like." His little giggle made me smile.

"Yes, please." I took a bite…crispy. I liked softer cookies, but crispy cookies were good for dunking, so: "Could I have a glass of milk?" Just as I said that, there was a meow from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, Ayesha," Erik sighed. "I forgot…I should feed her before she tries to shred my pillow again." As he got up, he stroked my cheek (I smiled like an idiot) and then I heard him climbing the stairs.

"I'll get you your milk," Etienne said. Shortly after, I heard a full glass being set down above the huge plate. I knew I had to be careful: it was towards the edge of the table. Dangerous for me. I finished my first cookie and then tried to calculate how to safely get the milk.

I slid my arm straight back from the table. I trailed along the table to try and find the glass, along the plate's boundry…it was further up than I thought. I inched my hand forward.

This was taking too long. "Uh, where is the glass?"

"It's to your right."

Okay. Move hand slowly. Very slowly. Beware of edge of table! I mean, it's not like it would be near the edge, right?

"No, more." Etienne sounded impatient, which made me anxious. I figured he didn't want to look at a blind person's hand to make sure they found their drink. So I moved my hand faster. Mistake.

My fingers found the glass, but before I could get my hand around it, I realized too late that I'd been coming at it too quickly and how big it was and also—how close to the edge it was: it was literally right on the edge. I couldn't get my hand around the wide cup before the force of my hand making contact had it sliding off the table. There was a wet crash.

And so time stood still as my stomach dropped out of me and my heart felt like ice. Or was my heart pumping ice through my body and that's why I'm shivering? Oh, God. I felt that familiar feeling of guilt for 'causing a scene' and I was a little upset that it happened because there was a disability-related communication issue (common cause for unnecisary specticals, really).

And there was yelling. Great. Madeleine was probably mad that I broke one of her glasses; Etienne was probably frustrated; what was Erik thinking, hearing this upstairs?

"I'm…sorry…it was just a little…little close to the edge…" I tried to say, but I was embarrassed and ashamed and my voice was soft and shaky and the other two were too busy yelling. Why the heck were they yelling? That didn't help my anxiety!

And then I heard Erik's voice. He was yelling louder than any of them, and throwing his voice all around the room to be heard and get them to shut up. I'm not sure whether I find angry French amusing or if I was just so embarrassed that I was laughing.

Erik's hand was on my shoulder. "Would you like to meet Ayesha?" he asked me.

"Okay." Anything to get out of there! And kitty therapy sounded like just what I needed right now.

There was silence as I got up and took Erik's elbow like formal sighted guide and he led me upstairs. I really don't use formal sighted guide much, but I felt I had to look the epitomy of proper blind person until the mom and stepdad were convinced that I wasn't a wrecker or something.

In Erik's room, I could hear Ayesha eating in the adjacent bathroom and an aria playing from what sounded like a dang good quality speaker on a desk. He led me around the bed and we sat down…and then I spoke, my voice still shaky.

"Idiots! Who does that? Who puts a glass on the edge of the table? Think, people! What—"

"Shhh." Erik pulled me into a hug and held me there. I felt like I was about to cry, but I didn't want to. "It's all right, mon amour. They are idiots." (I tried to laugh.) "Etienne thinks he knows everything because he's read medical books, and my mother is just—well, you read Kay's novel. You did nothing wrong, angel."

"Thanks."

Erik held me for awhile. When I heard a furry thing jump onto the bed, Erik gently released me and kissed my forehead. "I think Ayesha knows you're sad. Want to say hello?"

"Yeah." I sat back and went to set my hand on the sheets beside me…only to touch a soft kitty head instead. "Oh."

"Mew."

"Hi, kitty. Hello, Miss Ayesha."

She sniffed me for a second, then rubbed her head against my hand. "Meow."

I stroked her from head to tail, and then I scratched right above her tail. Up into the air went her butt! All cats like that spot for some reason.

Erik giggled again. Yay. "You know about the secret spot! I didn't even have to coax her over to you—she really likes you!"

"Yay! I won the cat's approval!" Take that, Christine! Kay's Christine certainly didn't initially get along with Ayesha. I didn't feel like bashing Christine in front of Erik, though, hard core phangirl no-no. "I'm too proud of this acomplishment! I mean, I know getting cats to like you is hard anyway, but Siameses are super hard, especially after they get a human!"

We played with Ayesha until she'd had enough and ran to her little cat house. As soon as she was gone, Erik pulled me close and hugged me tightly. "Now I have you all to myself!"

"Ha ha." I hugged him back. His playlist was now going through some classically arranged popular songs, so we just listened for awhile, singing along to a few songs…until my sister texted me and I had to get up to look at my phone. 'FroYo. You in?'

I totally was in. "Want to come with us?" I asked Erik as I turned back to where he was sitting.

But he heaved a sad sigh. "I have online classes, my love. I'm sorry."

"Online classes? How long have you been here? Are you that bored already?"

"Well, I…I've decided that if I can't get a job with people, given the social anxiety that comes with my face, an online college degree seems a decent use of my time. Besides, it's only a Baccalaureate."

"What major?"

"Vocal coaching and choral education, just in case I want to pursue a certification. Perhaps a double major in architecture."

"Okay, over-achiever. So are you kicking me out so you can study?"

Erik gasped, reaching out to clutch my hands. "No, I would never!"

"I'm sorry," I soothed, moving in close to hug him. "I didn't mean…do you want to study quietly by yourself? Or should I come over after fro-yo?" I singsonged the last part: "I'll definitely bring you some."

"Only if you don't have other obligations. I would hate to keep you away from your family."

"I mean, I should work on job applications, but I really don't want to. How about I let you know what's up afterword, because I don't know if my family is randomly going to want to do something this evening."

"Of course."

My phone went off again, letting me know with a text that my sister would be at my house in 10 minutes. "Okay, I need to go," I said sadly. Erik sighed. I turned toward the door—and then remembered who was downstairs. "Um…"

"I have an idea," Erik said. He went to Ayesha's cathouse. "Hold out your arms." After he placed Ayesha in my arms and told me that she liked to be held against your chest, he explained: "She won't even let a vet touch her without me reassuring her. If they see you holding her and her not trying to claw you, that might get it into their microscopic brains that you can be trusted."

When I put Ayesha down at the door (after walking there without assistance), she meowed and leaned on my leg after I stood up. "Wow," Etienne said. "She seems to really like you."

"I guess so. Does she not like a lot of people?"

"Well, she only likes people who mean no harm to her or Erik…but she never lets anyone but Erik hold her. Ever."

Boom.