"I don't blame you," Angie interjected mildly. "I was just curious Ker, because you really seem to like kids that's all. You always said you never wanted to end up a soccer mom."

Which was true. "We have a dog," Kerry said. "That's enough for us, though I do have to admit I once told Dar she had to have kids so the gene pool wouldn't lose out on hers." She paused as she heard a beep from her pocket. "Speaking of." She pulled the PDA out and opened it. "I have no desire to perpetuate mine."

Angie motioned for more coffee, prudently letting the subject drop. Her sister had, without a doubt, certainly grown up a lot in the last couple of years and taken on more than a hint of the steely will Angie remembered all too well from their father.

Definitely not the time to bring that up either.

"YOU KNOW, DAR." Alastair politely held the door open for her as they re-entered the hotel. "I have to say, going to a medieval torture show in the Tower of London with you has to be one of the most unique experiences I've ever had."

"Glad you enjoyed it." Dar strolled into the lobby, a bag slung over her shoulder and a relaxed grin on her face. "Gonna hang that flail up in your office?"

"Erm--"

"Tell everyone I gave it to you," Dar cheerfully suggested. "That'll stop people in their tracks."

Alastair looked at her sideways for a long moment, and then burst out laughing. "Do you have any idea what my wife would say?"

"Where's mine?" Dar bantered right back. "Hey, it beats a jar of jalapeno jelly."

Her boss clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I can see this trip is going to get me in a world of trouble." He sighed, as they walked through the lobby to the elevators, entering one of the narrow, wood lined cars and pressing the old fashioned round button for the top floor.

Dar leaned against the back wall of the lift and folded her arms over her chest watching the floor indicator rise slowly. "What time are we doing dinner?" she asked. "Are they late or early here, I forget."

Alastair folded his hands in front of him his back against the side wall. "Early, I think," he said. "I think we're set to meet at seven. They've got a car arranged to take us somewhere or other." He glanced sideways at Dar. "Anything you don't care to eat? I'm not sure what they have in mind."

"Vegetables," Dar said, succinctly. "Anything else I'm all right with. I want to check in with the office, and get a shower, so seven sounds fine." She stifled a yawn with one hand, as the doors opened. For a moment, neither of them moved. Dar gave her boss a wry look and exited the lift. "Sorry."

"Not into the old courtesies, Dar?" Alastair chuckled.

"I'm usually the one holding the door," she admitted. "Learned it from my Dad."

"Me too," the older man agreed cheerfully. "He was a proper Southern gentleman who brought his sons up to be courteous to ladies and respectful to men even if you didn't like 'em."

Dar grinned. "My father's Southern also, but he played by a little different rules," she admitted, as they both left the elevator and exited into the hall. The space had sedate carpet and, surprisingly, striped wall paper, but the lighting was dim, and it made the hall a little dingy.

"So I remember," Alastair murmured. "I think we finally did get all the mildew out of the carpet up in the kitchen near my office. "He really did mix it up with Ankow, didn't he?"

"Oh yeah," Dar said. "Bastard was lucky he got out of there in one piece. Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"Went to work for his father," Alastair replied succinctly. "Bad egg. Good riddance," he added. "Though, the world has gotten more conservative lately. "

"Mm." Dar grunted.

"Well, meet you in the lobby at seven, Dar. Get yourself some rest." He paused at the door to his room, as Dar went down two doors past him. "Thanks for the entertaining afternoon."

"Anytime." Dar opened her door and pushed it inward, giving Alastair a wave as she entered and let the portal shut behind her. Inside her bag was sitting on a luggage rack, and the room was dim and peaceful. The sounds of the city below were muted by the thick glass of the window.

She checked her watch, and she went over to her bag, unzipping it and removing the inset that held her dress suits. Tomorrow she'd have to slip into her corporate persona, but she was glad enough to put the suit bag in the closet, giving it a shake to loosen the wrinkles, and remain casual for the night.

She took her sundry kit from her suitcase and went into the bathroom, setting the leather case on the marble counter and opening it. She removed her various toiletries and set them up neatly, feeling the jet lag starting to catch up with her.

Dar exhaled and glanced at her reflection. She turned the water on and splashed some of the cold liquid on her face. It had a rich mineral tang very different from the water at home, and she experimentally licked a few droplets, finding it as brassy tasting as it smelled. "Peh."

She wiped her face with one of the thick hand towels and retreated back into the bedroom, bypassing the danger of the bed and going to the small desk near the window instead, pulling her laptop out of her backpack and sitting down to open it.

Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, keyed the answer button and set the speakerphone on. "Hey cute stuff."

"Hey hon." Kerry's voice echoed slightly from the speaker. "Whatcha up to?"

Dar was very glad of the distraction. "About to check office email," she replied. "You?"

"Lugging boxes," Kerry said. "Did you go sightseeing?"

"Sure." Dar booted her laptop resting her head on one hand. "Took Alastair to a torture exhibit and then shopping in a whip and chain shop."

Dead silence.

"Ker?"

"Honey, we do actually work for him, you know?"

Dar chuckled. "He enjoyed it. He bought a flail."

Kerry's flaring nostrils and blinking eyes were clearly audible through the phone. "For w--no, never mind. Forget I asked that," she muttered. "Flush cache. Flush cache. Flush cache," she paused, "okay, better now. Please don't reload."

"Okay," Dar agreed. "How's the packing going?" She could hear birds in the background, and guessed her partner was taking a break from the work and possibly her family. "Everyone there being nice to you or do I have to have a case of live gerbils delivered there to distract people?"

Kerry laughed. "Nerd. Everyone's being fine. I'm having fun playing with my nephew, and Mike's on his way over now, so I'm sure whatever progress we're making will grind to a complete halt. And hon, if I ever become as big a packrat as my sister you need to kick me to the curb."

Dar gazed at the phone. "Over my dead body."

"What?"

"You get kicked to the curb over my dead body no matter what junk you collect," Dar informed her. "I don't care if you pile crap up to the ceiling as long as there's a couple of square feet open in the bed for us to sleep in."

Kerry sighed. "I love you."

Dar chuckled as her laptop booted up and she plugged into the internet port in the room. "So did your sister really freak out about your tat?"

"Yeah," Kerry said. "She was like, how could you do that? Which is sort of what I asked myself the morning after I did it, but I love it now."

"Me too."

Kerry sighed. "Well, back to digging through boxes," she said, reluctantly. "You going out to dinner tonight?" she asked. "I think we are."

"With your Mom?"

"Uh huh."

Dar could read the several levels of commentary in the single grunt without much effort. She could also picture Kerry's face. "Send me a text if you want me to invent a tech nightmare for you to come save the day on, huh?"

Kerry chuckled. "I'll make them go to a barbeque joint. I'm in the mood for ribs and a nice loaded baked potato."

"Hedonist."

"Takes one to love one." Kerry's voice sounded a lot more cheerful. "Okay, hon, talk to you later. Have fun at dinner, and watch out for the haggis."

Dar closed the phone and went back to her laptop, smiling as she reviewed the mail careening wildly into her inbox and whistling softly under her breath.

KERRY CLIPPED HER phone back onto her belt and took a last long breath of cool air before she turned and re-entered Angie's house to be greeted by her brother coming in the other door. "Hey Mike."

"Kerry!" Michael rambled across the tile floor and flung his arms around her. "Good to see ya!"

"Oof." Kerry returned the hug. "Glad you see you too." She released him. "Nice haircut."

Mike ran his hand through what was almost a mohawk, the sides shorn close to his skull and the top longer. "Like it?" He looked at her. "Hey, you got a short cut too!"

"Not that short." Kerry shook her finger at him. "I thought you were working for some big shot company. They let you look like that?"

Her brother put his hands on his hips. "Oh now look who's talking," he said. "I'm working for a marketing company, sis. They like outrageous. Hey--want a job?"

"I have a job," Kerry replied. "And besides, your company probably couldn't afford me."

"Ooo--" Mike stuck his tongue out at her. "Listen to the big shot." He turned as Angie entered, carrying a tray. "I can't believe you dragged her all the way up here just to carry boxes for you!"

Angie put the tray down and put her hands on her hips, giving her brother a withering look. "She volunteered," she said. "Just like you did. It's not my fault she didn't come up to help you move the last six times this year."