PI - Kitty - June 7, 2002, c. 1 am Pacific time
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Holmes' Apartment - Elm Hollow Road

This is a relatively small, dingy apartment that is nonetheless blessed
with a large living area. The window is small, and barred, despite being
on the second floor, and the walls are solid. The furniture is clearly
secondhand, acquired piecemeal from thrift stores and discount outlets. A
broad threadbare couch and a few creaking, courduroy armchairs with
pointless curlicues on the stumpy legs rest before the tiny fireplace.
Tossed carelessly on the ground is a pile of cushions and pillows, and the
overriding sense of the living area is clutter. Piles of books are stacked
on the floor, on tables, under tables, on each other, mostly cheap,
second- and third-hand books on gruesome and esoteric subjects. A stack of
scrapbooks are jammed in one corner, newspaper clippings protruding out
and fluttering slightly in the air from the ventilation duct that sticks
into the room in an ungainly fashion. A door leads back to a bedroom that
contains a bed and nothing else. Whoever lives here apparently lives in
the main room, and is a smoker, the pungent odor of tobacco lingering in
the air.

        The kitchenette, visible from the living area, has some kind of
chemical apparatus in the sink, but is kept appallingly clean, even when
at its most cluttered.

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The current virtual time is: Fri Jun 07 06:05:11 2002.
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Kitty's knock upon the door is characteristically polite and restrained -
the low volume of someone who's aware of a reasonable chance of someone
being asleep on the couch, and not prepared to wake them.

Holmes answers the door in a coat and tie and slacks and looks down his
thin nose at her with a distinct "well?" impression, although he says
nothing, merely throwing the door wide, clasping his hand behind his back
and swooping back across to his bookshelf which has several nuclear
chemistry textbooks out on it. Seishi is not present.

Kitty closes the door behind herself after stepping in in his wake. She's
wearing jeans, as usual, and a lightweight sky-blue blouse: no T-shirts
today. "Good morning, Mr. Sigerson." She takes a breath. "I came to
apologize. For my behavior in - in whatever the appropriate term for that
was; in Sera's dream, on the ship. There were several things I said to and
regarding you that were inappropriate and uncalled-for."

Holmes mmms, and turns a little, book in his hand tipped forward towards
her, his dark eyes clearly puzzled. "I was not under the impression," he
says. "that everything we said was completely under our control. Please,
sit down. I am not offended, but I am interested in what you believe you
said that was inappropriate."

Kitty curls herself into the corner of the couch, the place she's gotten
used to taking when coming to talk with Seishi. "It wasn't," she replies.
"But it still originated in my mind - an part of my mind I try not to let
out very often, it's rather unpleasant, but mine all the same, so the
apology's still owed. I insulted you, belittled your skill, and maligned
your intellect - all of that was undeserved. Some of it particularly so."

Holmes laughs curtly, a little short /ha/ of sound. "That came from you?
I....surmised it was hostility engendered from Seravina's feelings of
inadequacy. Another fine demonstration of why one should never assume in
the absence of facts. Well, I can assure you that my opinion of my worth
has survived. Sei-chan can as well."

Kitty's mouth curves quickly to one side, a fleeting semblance of a smile.
"I'm glad to hear that, at least. It'd be a shame to lose it." No, she
hasn't been here long, has she. "More precisely, it was hostility
engendered from /my/ feelings of inadequacy. Which were probably brought
out to mirror Seravina's, so in a sense your hypothesis was reasonably
accurate."

Holmes says "Well, that is reassuring at the very least. I think there are
only a few approximations of hell that my imagination is capable of that
are closer to my idea of it than that experience was. A place where reason
is - if not powerless, at the very least truncated - where language is
only vaguely expressive and experience is only vaguely reliable. I do hope
nothing like it ever happens to myself or anyone else ever again."

Kitty nods up to him. "Amen." The tone of that is fervent, even if the
word itself isn't entirely appropriate. "Where the rules can only be
guessed at, and change with no notice anyhow - yes. At least Sera has
control now." The last sentence is said as a statement of fact, rather
than simple hope.

Holmes tsks, flopping into the armchair and stretching his long legs out
in front of him. "But for how long? She was returned to the same life that
provoked her first breakdown. I do not hold out much hope that she will
not suffer at least partial relapses."

Kitty admits, "She may. But she does have better control to start off
with, now, and she has at least one method of stopping herself when an -
incident, I don't know if there's been any more appropriate terminology
developed - begins. I saw her under a great deal of stress, and in
physically bad condition, and she didn't let her power get out of hand."

Holmes says with apparent graciousness. "I bow to your superior experience
in such matters and hope you are correct, for our own safety in addition
to her sanity." A pause, he inclines his head. "I believe it is still
customary to offer congratulations upon the acceptance of a proposal of
marriage."

Kitty lays one hand over the other in her lap as he speaks, and in that
pause she returns, "And I acknowledge your superior experience regarding
Seravina herself - we can't risk complacency. For our own safety in
addition to her sanity." And then it's her turn to pause, flushing
slightly. "Thank you. Particularly for noticing we hadn't intended to
announce it in public. But then, I suspect you've used a great deal of
discretion in general regarding Pete and me." She pauses - oh, the
question was inevitable. "Out of curiosity - how did you know I'd been the
one to propose?"

Holmes sighs slightly and glances away. "I do not wish to speak ill of Mr.
Wisdom to you so promptly and glibly - so please excuse me if I decline to
reply except in the most general of terms. He's paranoiacally attracted to
you - not the mark of the man who inclines to bold displays of devotion."

Kitty admits, "That's not an adverb and adjective you normally hear
together, but they do seem appropriate in this case. You're quite excused.
Less general terms would also have been excused; I've probably heard quite
a bit worse. The counterpart of his that I knew /was/ quite a bit worse."
There's a touch of wry amusement in that.

Holmes smiles vaguely crookedly. "Take care. You haven't known /this/ one
very long."

Kitty says dryly, "I had a head start; we worked out roughly which of our
experiences were analogous. And then - well. Sera's dream. It's
interesting how much you can learn about someone when their weaknesses are
on display - and they /can't/ intentionally lie to you." She studies
Holmes for a moment. "Besides. I chose the side of caution twice, and both
of those men died before we got anywhere. I'm not inclined to make the
same mistake a third time. All /new/ mistakes this time around."

Holmes throws his head back and makes that single barking 'ha' again,
ravens-wing black hair in the soft reading lamp near his armchair. "A
healthy philosophy." he says. "Although death comes cheap enough in this
city, we can hope it stays away from your door."