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."

"Yes." Angela stepped up. "Really, Mother, you didn't want me bringing a lifetime worth of old plastic cups and shopping lists back, did you?"

"Well." Cynthia paused, and frowned. "I suppose not," she conceded. "But really, all that hard work."

"Definitely worth it," Angie said. "Besides, it's been fun spending some time with my sister just hanging out."

"Yeah," Mike added. "It's hard catching up in email or on the phone. You can't see her goofy faces."

Kerry looked across at him, her eyes twinkling a little. "Ah, my secret's out. Now you know why I do all those conference calls."

"I'm sure, I'm sure," their mother replied. "But surely you don't need the excuse of rummaging through all that to speak to one another. I'm positive Kerrison was glad to visit, just to see you. Isn't that so?" She looked at Kerry.

"Of course," Kerry replied quietly.

"There, see." Cynthia said. "So to have you endure this manual labor is senseless, really."

"Eh." Kerry made a noncommittal sound. "It's not that bad." She went back for a second mouthful of salad, pausing when her ear caught the faint beep from her PDA. She put her fork down and unclipped the device from her belt, opening it and peering at its screen. "Excuse me."

"What on earth is that?" her mother asked. "A calculator?"

"A personal digital assistant," Kerry replied absently, as she scanned Dar's message. "With a note from Dar inside it." She extracted the stylus and started answering her partner's note, a smile tugging at her lips.

Honey, if I could click my cowboy booted heels three times and disappear from having dinner with my mother just to share your milk and your attitude I'd be there in a heartbeat."

K

"How strange."

Kerry covered the PDA and put it on the table. "Not really." She picked up her fork again. "We use many different types of communications in our line of work. This is just one of them." She selected a wedge of tomato and ate it.

"Dar's in London right now, isn't she?" Angie spoke up. "It's late there."

Kerry nodded, and swallowed. "She is. She got there this morning. She just finished meeting with our international team there, and she has a client meeting tomorrow morning."

"London? How lovely." Cynthia took back the conversational ball. "I've always wanted to see London and Paris. So lovely and cultured." She looked past Kerry to where Angie was seated. "Isn't that something you'd be interested in, Angela? To see the continent?"

Angie put her glass down. "Well, sure I guess. Who wouldn't?"

"Perhaps we can plan a visit there," Cynthia said, with a glance at Kerry. "I would invite you as well Kerrison, but I know how busy you are with your work."

Mike snorted. "Too late. She's going there next week." He was plowing through a bowl of soup and rolls, having turned away the salad. "London, Paris, some place in Germany--then what was it, Ker, a vacation in the Swiss Alps?"

Kerry wiped her lips. "That's the plan, yep," she said, mentally making a note to give her brother a hug for the quick response. "We've got business meetings for the first week, and then I think we're taking some time and doing some touring around the Alps, maybe hang around for Oktoberfest."

"Well," Cynthia said, "isn't that lovely?"

"Sure is," Mike said. "Hey, can I come work for you, Kerry? I can carry your briefcase around and pretend I understand one word in ten you're saying."

The PDA beeped softly. Kerry opened it, and glanced at the screen.

Tell your mother to kiss my ass.

Kerry looked up from the screen, directly at her mother.

"Yes, Kerrison?" Cynthia peered back at her. "Did you want to say something?"

It was tempting. But Kerry knew she couldn't, not like that. Not yet, anyway. "Dar says hello," she reported. "She's sorry the timing of our travel worked out like it did. I know she would have liked to have been here to help too."

"Now," her mother smiled, "isn't that so gracious of her. I am certainly glad she's enjoying her travels. Do you know where you're staying in London? Some friends of ours just got back from there."

Kerry looked back at the note.

I've just spent the night in a dive bar with twisted English karaoke going on in the middle of a smoke pit with darts added into the bargain. I told Alastair if he did that to me again I was quitting.

"I think she's enjoying the culture," Kerry commented mildly. "They're at the Stafford. Dar said it was nice."

These people are pissing me off. You better get over here fast, before I cause an international incident.

D

"And she's looking forward to me joining her." Kerry scribbled a reply and closed the lid. "The feeling's mutual." She wiped her lips as the waiter removed her salad plate. "So, Mike. What's up with your new job? You started telling us about it before we left for dinner."

"Well--"

KERRY WELCOMED THE cool breeze as they stepped outside into the wide entranceway. She moved to one side to let her family emerge behind her, and stood on the top of the drive, her hands shoved casually in her front pockets.

"That really wasn't too awful." Angie murmured in her ear. "Was it?"

"Nah." Kerry licked her lips. "That was great crème brulee." She drew in a breath of air tinged with pine and waited as her mother's aides attended to bringing her car around. Mike came up to stand next to her, and she bumped him with idle affection. "Hey."

"Hey," Mike responded. "I'm glad you're here, even if you aren't."

"Eh." His sister shrugged her shoulders a trifle. "Actually I don't mind it. It's great to see you guys." She glanced past Mike as her mother approached them. "Being the black sheep's not so bad."