Kate and Jack's Apt--Greenwood Properties

        You step into a comfortable one-bedroom apartment graced by a
prominant window with a view looking out over the 'main drag' of Beacon
Harbor's Chinatown. The living room area features a green plush sofa and
loveseat combination in addition to her adjustable futon couch. These
pieces are arranged in a conversational grouping around a very attractive
Korean lacquer table set with mother of pearl insets forming peacock-like
designs. A small television rests on a pale wood stand with a VCR
underneath it, and closer to the kitchen one can see table and chairs set
up for dining. A rice cooker and a few other appliances sit on the
counters of the kitchen area proper.
        The focus of the bedroom area is a handsome sleigh bed, hung with
one of those Indian mosquito netting canopies over the head of the double
bed so that the white gauzy material gives a kind of romantic, dreamy
quality as it hangs down. Matching bookshelves, a desk and bureau make the
room seem very nicely fit for habitation. Throughout the apartment,
various curios and pictures have been hung on the walls to give the home a
true sense of personality.

The door to the apartment opens up, and there's Kate there, with Princess
YumYum at her feet, standing with a quizzical look while draping her
fluffy tail around her mistress' ankles. "Kitty!" Kate says, "Come on in,
please...good to see you. How are you?"

Kitty's outside with the usual backpack slung over her shoulder, a quick
little grin flashing and gone. "Kate," she says cheerfully, "if I were a
vampire, you'd be dinner right now." But she's not, so she just steps in
all the same, then out of the way of the door so she can offer her hand to
Her Highness. "Things are pretty good. Getting better." Barring the
lack-of-sleep circles under her eyes and the buzzed, caffeinated shine to
the brown, but hey - she's in computers, right? "How're you doing? After
last night?"

Kate ushers you in and closes (and locks) the door behind you. "If you
were a vampire, at least I'd have someone nibbling on my neck, when I have
nobody now. But you're not, so alas and wae for me. I'm all right...am I
correct in thinking that we made some progress last night? It was so
confusing."

"We did," Kitty confirms. "In a weird direction. And Jack and I ran into
Claire, who ... well ..." She waves the hand that isn't being held still
for YumYum. "Was her usual self, only less healthy and more disjointed.
Things are going to start moving faster, I think. But Jack's starting to
get an idea of what's going on." I think. But she said that part already.
"I, uh, stopped by and checked on the Host, too. He's gonna be pretty much
okay, but he's really, really hoping we don't need to bring any of this
back to him." Yes, there's a grin there.

Kate says "Am I right in thinking that...if he's empathic, then something
about Jack triggered things in him? When he landed on the floor, it was
like he's just awoken from a dream."

"I don't know if it was something about Jack or something /interested/ in
Jack," Kitty says thoughtfully. "But that was /not/ him talking, when he
started raising his voice. He doesn't remember a thing about it, and he
doesn't want to."

Kate already had the kettle on when you came, so she pours out tea and
brings it to you as she sits down. "Do you mean...he was possessed in some
fashion? By someone from the dead?"

"'Dead' is more than I'd want to say for sure." Kitty shrugs at Kate
helplessly. "I mean - dead, alive, celestial, infernal, spirit, force, the
shadow out of Jack's own id or whatever, something just plain /weird/ - we
don't have any idea what that was ... Kate, I adore you." Tea. Oh
goodness. It's all she can do to keep from cuddling the cup, and she
probably only refrains because it might spill. "Just an idea of what it
/wanted/. But possessed is probably a good word for it, yeah." When Kitty
gets sleep-deprived, she gets talkative.

Kate sits back, sipping from her tea but clearly preoccupied with other
things. "You know, it's enough to make me interested in stuff like
automatic writing, or ouija boards and planchettes. Or seancing,
channeling. I wonder if there's a way we can get more information than
just berating for Jack being on the wrong track."

"We did." Kitty settles down with her own teacup, sipping cautiously. Mmm,
hot. "For one thing - that thing was /trying/ to get Jack to give up. So
it's important that he doesn't. For another, we know the tower isn't
physical, now - and that there's a good chance that Jack /has/ a way of
getting there, he just doesn't know what it is."

Kate nods her head. "Whatever it is I can do, I want to do it. Even
if...well, even if it means Jack goes back into the Valley of the Shadow
again. Because this is no life, Kitty. It'll torment him until he dies or
succeeds. I wonder what he has to /do/?"

"Don't know," Kitty admits frankly. "Support something. Stop something
from happening. Do the right thing at the right time. I don't know. But
it's important." She studies her teacup again. "Isn't the tower a chess
piece? And isn't castling a move? A defensive one? I /still/ can't see
Jack as anything but a white knight. I'm sorry, I didn't get much sleep
last night, I'm babbling."

Kate blinks. "That's true. I was the bishop, back in that dreamworld of
Sera's. What part were you playing, again?"

Kitty's grin is distinct, now. "Black pawn. It could've been a white pawn,
but I /knew/ the song that kept playing - and in the chess metaphor /it/
uses, black knight /takes/ white pawn. Didn't want to trip over /that/."
She quirks eyebrows. "Besides. I'd make a rotten bishop, and I'm not
steady enough for a rook. Those were good for you and Sei, though. You
remember the dream all right, still?"

Kate murmurs, "Parts of it. Not all. But isn't that the way, with a dream?
Your memory shifts and shows bits and pieces."

Kitty leans forward, cradling the teacup in both hands now - intent.
Someplace along the line she's let her backpack slide down to the floor;
she hasn't so much as unzipped her jacket, though. "Yeah. It is. Kate - do
you remember anything about a tower from /that/? Or about a field of red
flowers? Maybe roses, maybe poppies?"

Kate blinks. "Do I remember..." She furrows her brow, and winces. "I don't
know, Kitty. Maybe I did, but it could be that I'm imagining that memory,
wanting to remember it. Truthfully, I don't think I do. I remember a
dragon of ice, and barging into Constantine's house...falling down a
rabbithole, and Sera with this bunny in her hand...the medallions. And me
with a snake, as a contortionist back in the fair. And the chess game. But
I don't remember the tower, or the flowers."

Kitty murmurs, "Aughrevere." Barging into Constantine's house. Sera with a
bunny. Falling down a rabbithole. Those, those are new. "I remember - just
as we were waking up - a field of flowers. Roses. There was..." She lets
her breath out. "Look. Remember how it was the eight of us, plus Sera,
that were actually there? Everyone else was a projection, from one of our
minds, or from some part of Sera's? That's ... /almost/ true. There was
one other person watching. Claire St. Thomas. She's a clairvoyant, a seer.
I think she was ... feeding images into the dream sometimes, trying to
give us advance warning of things that might happen. Either that or she's
taking images /we/ put there and using them to explain the things she's
seeing to us. She's not very good at putting them into words." She pauses
for breath, and for a sip of tea, and continues less rushedly and a little
more calmly, "Jack and I had an encounter with her, /very/ late last
night. 'Way after we left Caritas. And ... when Claire mentioned the field
of roses, Jack immediately associated it with the Tower. So we've finally
got /some/ kind of lead."

Kate nods. "He's talked about the roses before. And being up on a high
place, and looking out over a city with all architectural styles, and yet
transcendant styles. And a shaft of sunlight came out and shone upon the
tower..." She speaks with almost a ritualistic air, an image learned by
rote yet remembered as if it were the key to salvation.

Kitty murmurs, "And a stained-glass window, with us on one side of the
tower and black-winged angels on the other - in a side-chapel in a
cathedral, with lavender growing in the cathedral garden and the stone
still warmed by the sun." She glances up almost apologetically at Kate. "I
woke him up from that one, coming to check on him."

Kate shakes her head. "I've not heard that one, but I'm glad you know
that.

Kate says "But you see, he dreams each night, his journey towards the
tower. But he doesn't seem to be getting any closer. And the dreams don't
give him any rest. He awakens as exhausted as if he were actually hiking
all night."

Kitty nods. "He's looking in the wrong directions. But he's not getting
any /farther/ from it, either. That's something. And the Tower's still
there. We've still got some time." She hesitates, then drops her gaze down
to the teacup again, drinking before it can get cool.

Kate says "But at the same time, there's an urgency that Jack feels, and
that...whatever was speaking through Lorne last night feels too."

Kitty agrees, "Oh, part of that's just because people are going to be
trying to kill us. Not all, there /is/ a real time limit, and I think it's
pretty bad again, and Jack - Jack /is/ being eaten up by this, this need;
you know that, you've seen it. But part of it's just the usual."

Kate laughs and shakes her head. "Oh, what charmed lives we lead."

Kitty's eyes sparkle. "We've got to. We're still here, aren't we?" She
winks at the other woman. "I'm trying to figure out ways to put this, and
not doing too well, but - the Tower is real. Definitely. There's something
that doesn't want Jack to get there, that wants him to give up. There's
something else that's trying to help him. It's important that he does.
Looking on physical maps probably isn't going to help us. I'm not sure
mystical ones are, either. We've probably got more clues than we know
about; we just have to put them together. There's stuff going to be
happening soon, /probably/ in the next few weeks, that's likely to give us
more information - if we can hang on, if we can read it right, and if we
can do the right thing. Pushing Jack for information probably isn't going
to get anywhere - it's not that the information is buried in his
subconscious someplace, it's that he's /got/ it and can't recognize it, if
he has it at all." She lets her breath sigh out. "Whatever happens, we
have to keep from panicking, keep from giving up, keep from despair.
Something's trying to convince us, Jack especially, that we /can't/ win
this thing - it's gonna try to hit us one at a time, when we're weakest,
and we've got to be ready to take it and not break. Not that that's
usually our problem." One more little grin. "Think you can handle it? Be
brave for us?"

Kate nods her head. "I can. You know...it's all the middle ground that can
be so difficult. If this /is/ something that we can win, achieve, I'll
never give up. But up until now, it seemed like an impossibility. And
that...that's something that leaves me at a loss."

"It is." Kitty says that with certainty - then her grin broadens a little.
"Our oracle says so, anyway. If we can kinda try to go gentle on Jack for
a little, too... running into her last night was kinda rough on him,
/plus/ what happened in Caritas, /plus/ Constantine pulling a joke on me
and Pete the night before that that kinda caught Jack by accident."

Kate blinks. "I didn't hear about that, what happened? The last thing you
mentioned, just now."

Kitty makes a face, but it's in the attempt to restrain a laugh. She
finishes her tea hastily. "Um. Well. It's, uh, Chanukah, see..." Quick
glance stolen to Kate to see whether or not the word rings any bells. It's
Beacon Harbor: Kate may be native, but Kitty's given up presuming.

Kate nods easily. "Right, the menorah, potato latkes, the one day's supply
of oil lasting for eight... we had a Jewish family in the Carnival
Festivus. He was one of the mechanics, she was a seamstress."

"Right, exactly," Kitty agrees, and the look of pleased and slightly
startled relief might possibly be a sort of amusement all on its own.
"Jack was over to consult with us on the whole Claire thing when John
showed up. John decided to bring us a present." She pauses, and the relief
gives way to a rolling of eyes. The words are pronounced with nearly
audible capitals: "A Tropical Caribbean Vacation Menorah. Complete with a
cute cuddly smiling friendly little jellyfish sculpture." Beat. "Jack
kinda fled. I don't blame him; /I/ almost /hit/ John with the thing." But
there's the grin again. In retrospect, it /was/ funny.

Kate stares. "A Tropical /Caribbean/ Menorah? With a /jellyfish/ instead
of the Lion of Judah?!" Say, it sounds like someone actually taught Kate a
little bit about the symbolism.

Kitty replies, amused and pained, "Eight little ceramic fish with their
mouths open to hold the candles, and the jellyfish waving its tentacles in
the air for the shammas." She puts down the teacup, cups her hands with
thumbs together and fingers upward, and waggles her fingers in the air to
demonstrate. "I am /so not kidding/."

Kate has this look of complete bewilderment on her face. "That's...I
really wouldn't want to see the artist's take on a crucifix or a Buddhist
prayer wheel."

Kitty opens her mouth. Pauses. Closes it again. Just sits there for a few
seconds. Then she says, slowly, "I have a horrible image of genuine
artificial mother-of-pearl and plastic replicate coral. And little cartoon
dolphins with big smiley faces. And Sea Monkeys. And I don't want to have
to think about it any more."

Kate shakes her head, and goes to pour more tea. "I think I agree with
you. I can see why Jack fled...but wouldn't that just be a reflection of
his good taste rather than anything to do with the dreams or Tower?"

"Point," Kitty agrees, grateful even for /that/ change of subject (and for
the tea, now desperately needed), "but either way, one more shock to his
system, so to speak."

Kate nods and sighs. "In a way, I'm almost glad to hear that things can
shock him. So much of the time he spends it so disconnected from
everything. But hopefully things are improving. I ought to ask him if he
has any new take on things, based on the last few episodes."

Kitty grimaces slightly. "You might wanna give him a little time to
recover first. Last night was - well - um... /I/ only got about an hour
and a half of sleep after what happened, and I /don't/ have dreams
pestering me. Plus, with the way he looked after Caritas last night,
pushing him much more might be a real bad plan right now ... and that was
/before/ we ran into Claire and things got /really/ weird." Not reproving,
just earnest. "I mean - I'm not telling you not to? Just ... he's kinda
shaky right now. You know that. I /am/ babbling." Tea! She can drink that.
It'll keep her from talking.

Kate shakes her head. "Oh no, I don't want to push too hard. And I've also
had a lot of work out at the airport too. But I do want to speak, when
we've had a little rest time."

Kate says "But you look pretty wired yourself, Kitty. How is this
affecting you?"

Kitty gives Kate an amused, wry look. "Well. Most of the time, not very
much. Occasionally, weird nightmares. It's just one more thing on top of
everything else right now - I've got a couple other major projects running
concurrently with this stuff, plus wedding prep and trying to set up a
career change. So the not-sleeping thing is mostly voluntary anyway. Pete
hits me over the head a couple of times a week and makes me get eight or
ten hours, it's all good. I just, uh ... well, get really talky and don't
always make a lot of sense. Are things at the airport okay?"

Kate nods her head. "Same as they every were, really. But a lot of people
are prepping for holiday trips, and they've had their planes sitting
around in the cold doing nothing until now.

Kitty winces. "Ugh. Well - not ugh, I suppose, since you know, livelihood
and so forth."

Kate grins. "Indeed. Bad on their planes, good on the need for repairs,
maintenance and other bottom line stuff."

"You'd think," Kitty mutters, humorously indignant, "that people would
have a little more respect for the needs and well-being of the complicated
machinery they're about to trust their lives too. Oh, wait. Most people
are like that with cars, too."

Kate grins. "It's exactly the same. Some who treat their planes like their
babies, probably keep their planes safer than their children. And some
people who could really care less, so long as it goes when they want it
to. Ah well."

Kitty shakes her head sadly. "But they pay you, so I suppose their
carelessness really /is/ your gain." She catches her fingers twitching
just a little, and hastily takes another sip of tea - folding her hands
around the cup after to make them be still.

Kate says "Well, yes and no. I'm a bit of a connosseur, so sometimes it
pains me, to see really shocking neglect. And it also makes me wonder if
they realize how crazy it is, to be going up into the sky in a
heavier-than-air contraption that needs help badly."

Kitty admits, "I was lucky - the school I used to go to owned a plane. And
the students were /required/ to help with maintenance. So - very much with
you on the craziness factor, there." And on the shocking neglect, but that
goes without saying, doesn't it? And on the occasional little flares of
envy of Kate-the-pilot. There's just something about flying.