The new place is, indeed, more or less right across from the university
campus. "I understand it used to be a frat house," Kitty explains on the
way up to the blue-painted building, "but after what happened to the
garage, uh, well." She waves a hand at the empty space at the end of the
driveway. "So now it's rented out. And they preferred not to rent to
students just yet, for some reason." Keys, and the front door's opened
into the pale-green living room. It's clean, and the cigarette-smoke smell
is still faint - so's the new-paint smell; there's quite possibly more
furniture in the living room than there was in their entire last
apartment. A couch covered with a plain white sheet is grouped with an
armchair and a low table and a bookcase, all by the stone fireplace on the
left-hand wall; straight ahead are a staircase and hallway /and/ doorway,
and off to the right, more bookcases and a computer table that looks
slightly forlorn with just Kitty's laptop set up on it. The bookcases are
mostly empty, though _Diplomatic Immunity_ and a scattering of paperbacks
occupy one, and a few videotapes and a brass sextant keep another from
looking entirely forlorn. The pirate flag hasn't made it onto the walls
yet. Yet. Neither has the usual state of mild chaos reasserted itself -
the stack of newspapers on the low table is orderly, and the ashtray at
the far end of it is /empty/.

Seishi's brows lift as she steps inside, and a few steps in she stops to
turn in place and survey the room with visible approval. "...So," she asks
eventually, looking back to Kitty again with a curious expression,
"where's Pete been staying?"

"Here," Kitty replies, looking - by now - only mildly off-balance. She
pauses for a beat. "He claims he was bored."

Seishi looks away again, her eyes lingering on the conspicuously empty
ashtray. "He must have been *really* bored," is her mild comment.

Kitty grins. "I recommend not, ever, saying the word 'nesting' when you're
inside half a mile of him. Just so you know." She crosses the room,
flipping on the light in the kitchen and digging in the refrigerator, then
emerging again with two cans of vanilla Coke - one offered toward Seishi
inquiringly.

"Oooooh." Seishi accepts the soda gladly, cracking the pop-top open and
grinning crookedly. "I'll keep that in mind. So he's okay? Out of those
casts yet?"

"Out of the casts, and his back healed up fine," Kitty replies, opening
her own and lifting it toward Seishi in a mock-toast. 'Healed up fine' is
kind of an understatement, given the nature of the gash he got dealt on
the way out of the demon-lair and the amount of time that's passed, but
given that she's talking to /Seishi/ - well, on the scale of miraculous
recoveries, it doesn't even rate. She hesitates again, then asks, "How's
Holmes?"

Seishi lifts her soda in reply to the gesture, but doesn't actually drink
yet, looking down at the open can instead. "Like I told Sera, he's all
right. Glad to be done mucking around with demons and magic for a while, I
imagine."

"Good." There's honest relief there, and Kitty relaxes a little. "Yeah.
Next time Constantine wants a favor, I'm going to throw something at him."
She watches Seishi for another moment. Some topics are harder to bring up
than others. "Um -" And with her free hand, she reaches to take off a
necklace; not the silver star she always wears, that stays, but a certain
jade dragon pendant. She holds it out to the other woman. "I think this is
yours."

Seishi lifts her head, and contemplates the pendant for a few moments.
Finally she smiles and says, "I think I'd rather you kept it. Unless you
don't want it."

Kitty looks down toward it, then up to Seishi again, quiet for a moment -
then half-smiles. "It feels kind of weird to take it, after what you and
Jack did." And Carita; but for Carita it was different.

"Why?" Seishi asks simply enough, brows lifting curiously. "We did what
needed to be done. It *sucked,*" she pronounces the word with blunt
emphasis, "but someone had to do it. If we hadn't been there, it would
have been someone else. We were there, that's all."

"Yes," Kitty replies reasonably enough, "but you /were/ there." She
considers Seishi for a moment, then says, "Here -" And she steps back to
one of the bookshelves. Given how few books there are there, it doesn't
take her long to find the one she's looking for, and she manages to hold
it and the pendant in the same hand for long enough to hold it out to
Seishi. It's a paperback, though the cover is heavier and of a different
texture than most; dark blue, with the front showing a painting of woods
all ferns and flowers, and the title in white, _Jaguar of Sweet Laughter_.

Seishi sets her vanilla Coke aside untouched to take the book with both
hands, considering the cover before looking back up to Kitty to remark, "I
don't think I'm familiar with this title."

Kitty lets her grin show, a little more relaxed. "It's poetry. You might
like it." Her own hand closes lightly and absently and protectively around
the carved jade.

Seishi quirks a lopsided grin, opening the book curiously as she wonders
in a wryly amused tone, "Is this some strange variation on buying one's
gift with a cent?"

Kitty laughs. "That's for knives," she protests, trying to sound indignant
and largely failing. "Let's just say I wanted to give /you/ something."

The book falls open easily in a few places, ranging from a small paragraph
tucked in between title page and contents ('A creation myth found in the
Popol Vuh, a book sacred to the Maya, tells of Jaguar of Sweet Laughter,
the first human creature to appear on earth, a strange being who could
speak.') to a half-dozen poems.

        Was that the dream, then, a man
        who welds your body to his with a look?

        He walks across the room. Around his neck
        hangs the amulet of your desire.

        He has an average build and an average face,
        but his hand is large enough

        to hold a live, beating heart.

Seishi turns an interesting pinkish shade, smiles a brief little smile,
and closes the book again. "In that case, thank you. It looks fascinating.
But I may be obliged to try to hook you on Neruda, now."

"Tell me where to start," Kitty replies promptly, "and I'll drop by
Eclectic. I think I've read enough the name is familiar, but I can't
remember any of it." She's so hard to hook on these things. Really. And
no, she's /not/ commenting - or taking notice - on the color change.

Seishi considers briefly. "I think Los Versos del Capitan, provided it has
'La Barcarola Termina' in it. I'm fairly sure it does. Otherwise the
Selected Verses. Veinte Poemas de Amor y Una Cancion Desesperada is a good
alternate choice, too."

"This is your way of luring me into learning Spanish, isn't it," Kitty
says amusedly. "I'll poke around bookstores. And, failing that, we're
/nicely/ close to the university library."

Seishi laughs. "They're translated," she assures. "You don't *actually*
have to learn Spanish if you don't want to. And I know we have some copies
at Eclectic. At which, amazingly, I still have a job, despite having
died."

Kitty /can't/ stifle a grin at her phrasing. "Well, it's not like you were
/legally/ dead. And besides, your boss is cool." And besides, they live in
Beacon Harbor - dead employees would probably be common if not for that
most of the walking dead are, oh, evil. "Let me know your schedule? I'll
stop in."

Seishi bobs her head in a cheerful nod. "Sure. I ought to check with my
boss first and make sure it doesn't need altering, but once I've done
that, I'll let you know what my hours are going to be like."

Pendant cradled in one hand, Coke held more casually in the other, Kitty
meanders over to the sheet-covered couch and settles carefully down in one
corner of it. It's not the same couch from the last apartment... thus the
/careful/ element. And the sheet. "Terrific. Our phone numbers are still
the same, so you know - hurray for cellular."

Seishi shifts the book to tuck it comfortably under her arm, retrieving
the Coke can with her free hand and heading over to sit on the other end
of the couch, where she can lay the book of poetry aside for the time
being. "Yay cellular," she returns cheerily. "At least nobody has to
memorize new numbers."

Convenient table! Convenient table not ... covered with stuff. Yet. The
new place is so strange that way. "We still have to get the address out to
the rest of the people who could use it," Kitty agrees, "but that's about
it." She crooks a grin. "And half of /that/ list we're still arguing
about, so."

Seishi laughs quietly, settling comfortably back against the cushions and
cradling the soda can in both hands. "Still working out the exact
definition of 'need to know,' huh?"

Kitty admits, "Still working out the exact definition of 'who we trust not
to go psycho,' actually," but her tone is a joking one. "You and the
others, Ray and Sera, Kess, a couple of other people. I'd like to try to
get at least six months out of this place; moving in the middle of the
winter sucks."

Seishi reflects good-naturedly, "I'm actually fairly surprised. I've lived
in the same apartment for over a year now. You'd think I'd have much
bigger problems with the creepy-crawly types than I have."

"Better luck?" Kitty suggests. "Better taste in visitors? No, can't be
that, you let Pete and me come by. Creepy-crawly types scared of you and
your roommate?"

Seishi grins mischievously. "That last is certainly possible. Or else,
more likely, they're scared of the *mess.* I guess it has a use after all.
Although," she reflects, "I *still* want to take a day while he's out to
clean the place up and file everything. Just to see the look on his face."

Kitty says solemnly, "If you need a spare pair of hands to help shovel,
all you have to do is call." She considers for a moment. "Though I
personally draw the line at touching any of the weird-chemistry stuff. I'd
like to keep /all/ my fingers."

"Oh, *believe* me," Seishi says fervently, "I have no intentions of
touching the chemistry stuff. Quite aside from the fact that he'd *kill*
me, I'm also rather fond of my fingers."

Kitty stifles a giggle, barely. "The whole apartment, cleaned up, books
shelved, papers filed... except for the one little island of chemical
rule."

Seishi chuckles quietly. "It'd only last a day. Maybe two. Then the mess
would re-asser its dominance. Assuming I could even get it clean in the
first place," she muses. "He'd been living there for months before I moved
in. It may be a lost cause."

Kitty replies firmly, "No such thing. You just need a staging area,
determination, pre-organized supplies, and ... okay, an infinite supply of
energy might be a problem."

Seishi wells thoughtfully, "Energy I have, but I suspect time would pose a
problem. He'd walk in while I was half done, and it would be hard to
finish after he got done strangling me."

Kitty puts up one hand to help choke down the laughter at that particular
phrasing. (Not that Seishi let being dead stop her /last/ time, did
she...) "Yeah, he's got to be hard to arrange distractions for," she
admits ruefully. "And there's only so much help you can actually fit in
the place."

Seishi nods, grinning. "He tends to notice things like that. What I get
for living with a savant, I suppose. Obnoxious man."

Kitty gives a wry look. "I think we collect 'em." She takes a swallow of
her Coke, leaning back against the corner of the couch - cautiously.
Pete's assured her that there's nothing actually living in the cushions,
but she's still a touch nervous about it. "He /is/ okay, though?" she asks
again. She spent a little too much time trying to keep an eye on everyone,
those last couple days in Bermuda, not to still be worried - and the
unspoken corollary: /you're/ okay, too? Really? Honest?

Seishi hesitates before answering this time, smiling a little foolishly
and looking down at her vanilla Coke. "He's okay," she answers presently.
"Still a little off-balance, maybe, but dealing. As much as anyone can
ever tell what's going on behind his eyes." The complaint is made in an
affectionate tone, and she's still smiling.

"Good." There's relief there, yes. Kitty curls her feet up onto the couch,
shamelessly unconcerned about sneakers on the sheet. "He... took it pretty
hard. I didn't know how resilient he'd be." But he's dealing. That's one
more in the 'plus' column.

"So I gathered," Seishi murmurs darkly, as much to herself as to her
friend.

Kitty reaches out toward her, not quite touching Seishi's arm. "Hey. The
two of you are doing okay now, right?" She doesn't entirely notice how she
phrased that till after the sentence is already out; it's her turn to
color a little and add hastily, "I mean, he's presumably not locking
himself in his room anymore, and you're, you know, breathing and
everything..."

Seishi looks up, blushing very faintly and wearing that silly little smile
again. "Well, I had to get on his case for apparently having tried to
drink and smoke and exhaust himself into an early grave while I was, um,
gone." What, did *Holmes* tell her about that? Surely not. "But he's fine.
In remarkably good shape, actually, considering how he tends to abuse
himself." She pauses to sip her Coke and smooth a hand absently over her
hair before reflecting, more quietly, "It's a little strange, to realize
how much he missed me."

Kate. Or Barbara. Or just Seishi knowing Holmes. There are reasonable
explanations, aren't there? "Some people just ... aren't very good at
showing it," Kitty ventures. She might've dodged saying even that much,
except that the only alternative thing to say that occurred to her was
along the lines of 'oh, don't worry, I was planning on checking on him
regularly so that when he eventually collapsed we could get him
hospitalized.'

Seishi laughs shortly. "Yes, *there's* the understatement of slightly more
than a century. He has trouble identifying what he feels, never mind
showing it." She subsides for a few moments after that comment, spending
them in contemplative quiet before finally hazarding, "I don't know if
you've read any of the stories..."

Kitty admits, "About a third. At least of the ones back where I came from.
It seemed kind of impolite to refer to them, though, and there's no
guarantee of accuracy anyway." Thus her mildly-pointed use of his alias
here in the face of Wisdom's vast amusement.

Seishi grins at that. "According to him, they're *very* inaccurate and all
out of order. They drive him absolutely bats, which I suspect means
there's enough truth in them to make him uncomfy. Naturally he owns copies
of everything." She pauses, sips her Coke, and then admits, "I haven't
actually read them myself... I don't think they existed in my world, and
by the time I learned about them, well... it seemed unfair."

Kitty nods back to Seishi, serious. "Exactly. I mean, even if his idea of
'very inaccurate' is probably a mis-description of some shade of red on
page twelve - it's /still/ unfair. People deserve some kind of privacy,
especially in places like ... well, like this one." Stupid works of
fiction. Kitty considers for a moment, taking a breath to say something
else - and is cut off by a sharp ringing. "... /Speaking/ of lack of
privacy," she jokes, and drapes the pendant back around her neck
(finally!) to let herself twist and get at the slim black cellphone in one
of her pockets and flip it open. "Pryde."

"Oh. Hullo," says a very distinctive (and not necessarily very welcome)
voice. "Have you got any spare room on the couch? I need somewhere to stay
for a bit. My house had a bit of an accident with a dragon and a demon."

Seishi's brows lift curiously when the phone rings, and she settles back
against the back of the couch, going quiet to let Kitty talk.

Kitty attempts to eye the phone suspiciously. Given basic human anatomy,
this isn't terribly successful. "And ... you ... need someplace to sleep
while it's digesting them?" she asks dryly. "Or are you just worried that
your house might be looking for some Constantine for dessert?" At least
Seishi knows who's calling now.

"I know it sounds like a sign of the Apocalypse," Constantine replies
dryly, "but my house has been declawed. Defanged. Defeated. It took a
demon and a dragon to do it, but it's done. I think it's a bit early for
another Apocalypse, though." There's a thoughtful pause. "Unless something
from beyond space and time rises up from the smoking ruins of my house."

Seishi blinks once or twice at this. Constantine. Constantine's house.
Digestion? Dessert? "His house ate someone?"

"It had better not," Kitty informs the cellphone firmly. "We're on a
strict no-Apocalypse diet till at least the end of November. Preferably
mid-January." She lowers the cellphone to say aside to Seishi, "I think
something ate his house. He said something about 'a bit of an accident
with a dragon.'" On the whole, she's leaving out the demon part. Lifting
the 'phone again, she says, "I think we can scrounge some space somewhere,
but we've got a new address since the last time you bled on the floor -
you're /not/ bleeding, are you?" She gives the address regardless: School
House Road, across from the sprawling university campus. Frat-house
territory.

"Nah, I got out before the real damage was done. Bloody inconvenient time
for that dragon to show up, though," John adds irritably. Then, "I'll be
there in a bit." Click.

Seishi looks blank for a moment or two before asking--because someone has
to--"And his house *lost?*"



( OOC note: The verses quoted in this log are from "Portrait 
Without Pose," by Diane Ackerman. _Jaguar of Sweet Laughter_ 
is a real book, published by Vintage Books, and highly 
recommended. )