Kerry gave him several points. One for recognizing her, and two for smiling, with a bonus added on for treating her as though she was a very welcome guest. She returned his smile and gave him a pat on the arm as they entered. "Is my mother here yet?"

"Yes ma'am, inside," the doorman answered briskly. "Have a great evening."

"Thanks," Angie said, as she followed Kerry and her brother inside. "I'm sure we will."

Kerry paused for a moment as she cleared the door, sweeping her eyes over the interior and finding it had not changed much since she'd been gone from her hometown. A fresh coat of white paint and some new pieces of furniture appeared to be the only difference. She continued confidently toward the dining room.

The hall was moderately crowded. Kerry caught a few familiar faces in her peripheral vision, not unusual for a small town such as this one. She kept her focus forward though, and spotted a man in a suit hovering near the Maitre D station who had the air of a political aide.

Accordingly, she changed her path slightly, and addressed the man in the suit as he watched them approach. "Are you waiting for us?"

The man blinked. "Ah--" He spotted Angie and Mike behind her, and his face relaxed in relief. "Yes, absolutely. We have a table waiting, won't you come with me?" He waited for her to nod, then turned and started into the large dining room.

Angie poked her. "Stop scaring people!"

"Me?" Kerry looked over her shoulder innocently. "I haven't done anything. Yet."

"I should have brought my camera," Mike lamented. "This is probably going to be the first and only time I have a good time in this dusty old place." He caught up with Kerry as they turned a corner and entered a more or less secluded cul-de-sac, where a beautifully set table was waiting, and their mother standing at the head of it.

There were three aides milling behind her, and Mike realized everyone was more than a little freaked out. He saw the guy who had met them scurry out of the way, and then Kerry took control of everything with a manner that made him cover his mouth not to laugh.

"Mother." Kerry went to the head of the table and extended her hands, giving the aides a brief nod of greeting. "Good to see you."

Cynthia Stuart was caught faintly aback, but she rallied. "Kerrison, it's lovely to see you as well." She took Kerry's hands and clasped them. "I am so glad you were all able to come tonight." Her eyes flicked over Kerry's outfit, but to her credit, she sailed right past it. "Won't you sit down? Let's have some wine and celebrate being together."

Kerry allowed a real smile to appear, seating herself to her mother's right hand side as Angie and Mike took seats next to her and the serving staff replaced the hovering aides. "That sounds wonderful." She took her napkin and flicked it open expertly, settling it over her lap as her crystal goblet was filled. "They haven't started serving chili dogs here, have they?"

"Ah--"

"Too bad. I wonder if they'll make me one."

DAR WAS PATHETICALLY grateful to close the door to her hotel room behind her and trudge across the carpet, tossing her jacket down on the chair and continuing on through the room to the bathroom.

Inside, she stripped off all the clothing she'd been wearing, and put it into the linen laundry bag hanging neatly on a hook beside the door. Then she turned the water on, waiting for it to come to a reasonable temperature before she stepped in and simply stood there, letting it rinse over her.

After a minute, she picked up her scrubbie and body wash, and scrubbed her skin all over, sneezing a few times as she soaped her face, then following that with three washes of her hair with as much shampoo as she could fit in the palm of her larger than average hand.

After a good rinse, she shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry herself with. She opened the door, wrapping the towel around her as she picked up the laundry bag and took it with her back to the door. She unlocked it and dropped the bag outside, then went to the phone and dialed the number for the concierge.

"Good, ah, morning," a polite, male voice answered. "Ms. Roberts, what can I do for you?"

Nothing. Dar was convinced nothing was better than a hotel with a 24 hour concierge. "I have a laundry bag outside my room. Can you get it picked up and taken care of?"

"Of course," the man answered. "I'll send someone right up."

Dar considered. "And could you get me some warm milk and honey sent up as well?"

"Absolutely," the concierge said. "Right away."

"Thanks." Dar hung up the phone and went back to toweling her now, thankfully, smoke free self off. It was after 1:00 a.m. local time, but her body still thought it was 8:00 p.m. She hoped the warm milk would let her get to sleep. "All I need is to be a zombie tomorrow," she muttered under her breath, looking up as a knock came at the door.

Was it physically possible for anyone to come up that many flights of stairs that fast? Dar wrapped her towel around her again and tucked the ends in then ran her fingers through her wet hair before she went to the door and opened it.

"Ah." Alastair's eyes widened. "Listen, Dar--"

"Listen, Alastair," Dar cut him off. "Let's get this clear. The next time you drag me into a bar full of cigarette smoke and drunk assholes and force me to stay there, consider my resignation on your desk."

Alastair's mouth closed with a click.

"I am not bullshitting."

"Never would have thought you'd bullshit about that." Alastair recovered. "Sorry about that, Dar," he said in a more conciliatory tone. "I know the boys are so thrilled about the opportunity here they went a little overboard."

"Grr." Dar glanced at the man from housekeeping who sidled up and took the bag as quickly as he could and ducked back out of the way again. "Thanks." She turned and looked at Alastair. "I appreciate it's a cultural thing, Alastair, but next time, leave me out of it. I can't stand being in places like that, no matter how good the beer is."

"I forgot--.well, no, really, I never even thought to ask, but you don't smoke, do you?" Her boss mused. "Or Kerry, I suppose. I guess it's what you get used to, and with all the new laws on our side, you don't bump into that as often."

"Yeah, well." Dar glanced down the hall. "That's true, I guess," she conceded. "Well, let me get back inside and try and get some sleep before we have to go act like world killers tomorrow morning."

Her boss lifted a hand and started off toward his own room. "Good idea, Dar." He turned at the door and looked back at her. "But you know you play a mean game of darts."

Dar paused before she shut her door. "It could have been a lot meaner," she said, giving Alastair a brief smile, before she ducked inside and left the hallway in stately silence again.

The knock at the door made her turn and grab the handle, yanking it open as she started to yell, only to swallow her outrage and muster a smile instead for the young woman holding a silver tray. "Oh. Sorry. Hi. Come on in."

She backed away from the door and the server entered, placing the tray down and removing a soft, quilted cover from the pot on it. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome." The woman presented the billfold to her, and Dar signed it, handing it back. "Will there be anything else you need this evening?"

Dar glanced at the clock. "I hope not." She sighed.

"Well then, have a good night." The server disappeared out the door, and Dar sat down next to the table holding the tray as it got blessedly quiet again. She picked up one of the nice, big stoneware cups and poured a glob of honey into it, then added steaming milk and stirred.

It smelled wonderful. Her throat, scratchy and sore from the night spent yelling over bad music and breathing in smoke was aching for the sweet taste. She picked up the cup and took it over to the bedside table, setting it down and going back to her bag to get her sleep shirt.

She picked up her PDA on the way and brought it back to bed with her, setting it down as she replaced her towel with the worn baseball shirt and shorts she seldom wore anymore. They smelled like home, though, and she sat down and picked up the PDA, flipping it open and checking for messages before she took out the stylus and scribed one of her own.

Hey.

I'm alone in my hotel with a pot of hot milk and a bad attitude. Where are you?

D

She set the PDA down and stretched out on the bed, picking up the cup and sipping from it. The milk tasted a little different than she was used to, but not in a bad way, and she, at last, allowed the stress and aggravation of the day to dissipate.

Just like the old days. She glanced at the PDA, waiting impatiently for the red flash to appear. Well, almost just like the old days.

"ARE THESE SOME of your new staff, Mother?" Kerry put down her glass relaxing a trifle as the servers gently interrupted the stilted conversation by placing salad plates in front of them.

"Hm?" Her mother glanced around. "Oh, yes. Yes they are," she said. "A nice bunch of young people. I will introduce you to them tomorrow. Angela says you all have been very busy today."

"Yes." Kerry sliced up her salad and decorated it with appropriate amounts of dressing. "Sorting through things, packing, you know."

"Well, I really don't understand why you didn't have someone take care of that for you, Angela. Having Kerrison come here for that seems very silly to me." Cynthia frowned. "Very silly."

Kerry took a moment to eat a big mouthful of the salad because it would take some time for her to chew it, and because she knew if she answered right at the moment the dinner probably would start sliding downhill faster than she'd anticipated. She swallowed, and washed down the crisp lettuce and greens with a sip of wine. "How could some hired firm decide what to keep and what to throw away?" She asked. "I don't understand that."