Peace Offering

Jun 05, 2006 19:37

(After, the scene with the doctors and before new hell appears ( Read more... )

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notahawkingbird June 6 2006, 03:24:36 UTC
Jacob didn't know for certain about Kate's alter-ego. He only knew that his boss's younger daughter had an insanely busy schedule, was possibly more than just a little unbalanced, and was the sweetest girl in the area if you knew how to talk to her. She also didn't seem to get nearly as many male visitors as her sister had at this age, but Jacob chalked this up to the third thing he knew for sure about her.

He was triple-checking the list of food the caterers were supposed to provide for Ava's party when someone buzzed up. It was too late for mail and the wrong day for Mr. Bishop's business associates, so whoever it was better have had a good excuse for interrupting. "Bishop residence. State your business."

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lt_legacy June 6 2006, 03:29:59 UTC
"Delivery for Kate Bishop." This would go very smoothly if he did not see her. He could get her the two books, write himself off as a ubiquitous delivery boy and call it a good day.

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notahawkingbird June 6 2006, 03:40:44 UTC
Delivery for Kate? Hadn't been one of those in a while. "Hold on." Jacob left the owner of the interestingly young-sounding voice to stand out front for a bit longer while he left the living room to hunt Kate down. She was supposed to be doing her homework, and whatever she was supposed to be doing she usually was.

"You expecting a delivery?" he asked through her bedroom door. A moment later, it opened.

"No. Who did it sound like?"

"I don't know, some kid, that's why I came to ask."

Kate frowned. It sounded suspicious, but then again it could be one of the guys. Jacob hadn't actually met any of them yet. She went to the front door herself and hit the speaker button. "Who's this?"

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lt_legacy June 6 2006, 03:47:27 UTC
Oh, shit. He sucked it in. Be a man, Eli. "Central Library. Those books you ordered came in," he lied smoothly. "I have them as requested." Play along, Kate, please. Just for once.

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