Small things. Sometimes it was the small things that influenced great events, the confluences of dribbles turning into the river Ganges or somesuch philosophical nonsense. Oh, she did not hate Philosophy, quite the contrary, but the flowery language of the People Who Think They Think Good Thoughts was tiresome and quite unnecessary in her mind. Practicality. That was part of it. Who wanted to read 700 pages about any topic ''Between Facts and Norms''? Surely some people did, but trying to terrify her with that kind of banter would usually end with the offending party firmly talked down into some semblance of her order. Practicality in these matters was paramount. Or rather it was for her. And no one watching the events she set in motion unfold could argue she only browbeat others into submission.

Every tool had its place. It was not her fault that so few people could stand up to her. Especially the youngsters seemed most pleasurably intimidated by their new teacher. Indeed, very few people could stand up to her.

She did not mind that at all.

But on to matters that should clarify both her position on reading Philosophy as well as the analogy of the confluence: Small streams of water were in this case a rather illogical image for a few scraps of paper that found their ways to two respective rooms in the wide hallways of a building called simply The Mansion by both inhabitants and press. It happened to be her place of employ as well as her place of residence. The two doors though, as you should kindly note, were not her own. A few weeks before she had noted an altercation between two youths shamefully ignorant of her presence. A chair had burst into flames (such things being quite ordinary in a school for the extraordinarily gifted) and people jumped into a pool. Well maybe they were pushed. But her definitions were quite flexible on the topic. Fact of the matter: Boy and girl had been swimming most amiably and agreeably after their screaming match. Maybe, just maybe, she nearly drowned. But this fact should not hinder budding love.

Love she was currently in the process of helping along. In this particular case helping with two notes. Two notes of paper that were, quite incidentally, attached to two small packages. Hers, that was one Kate, looked basically well-intentioned but nonetheless male. That was something haphazardly wrapped up in a nondescript (and quite horrific) gift-wrap. His was a bit more elegant, exemplifying British understatement. Actually it was a cloth-wrap in Japanese style. The cloth was pure Silk and patterned. But more important than the wrapping was the content, was it not?

For her: The package opened up into something coiled and black, something smooth and elegantly whispering. Something that would, if unfolded, turn out to be a classic variation on an old theme. The small black something every woman was supposed to have in her closet. (And no, I'm not talking about a charred corpse. Much too smelly. Trust me.) Sleek and elegant and just that tad indecent, hinting at rather than showing off her curves. It was – maybe – just a little short. Just decent enough to be the gift of a friend. But it was decidedly skirting the edge of more.

For him: The smooth folds of the silk parted into something neatly folded into a square. One part was black. The other was a decidedly dark-looking red. One pair of jeans, if you please, of the rather tight-fitting variety. And one long-sleeve that bordered harshly on uncomfortably tight and most certainly on the indecency that she had received as well.

For both: Small notes of most sincere apology. And an invitation to a dinner of apology that was to take place at one evening in the not-too-distant future.

Small things. How she had gotten their sizes right to that degree? Well there are some things old people are quite good at. One of them is finding out things about people, whether they try to hide ir or not. Some schoolgirls are just too busy gossiping.

So: Clothes. And invitations. Takers anyone?

Flummoxed, that was the word that described Andrew best at this particular point in time. He was flummoxed, bamboozled, and any other long and unnecessarily complicated words to indicate confusion. A note and clothes had been delivered to him claiming to be from Kate. Honestly he was just suspicious. They'd already made their peace with each other so this smelled like interference. Drew had no idea who would go to this much trouble though. Then again it could be genuine. Drew didn't think it was but there was always the possibility. The clothes...were not something he'd wear. Since they'd come with the note Drew expected that he was expected to wear them. He glared at the offending items and note that lay on his bed. Once upon a time he might have just gone with it. Not now though. The clothes lay abandoned on the bed. He'd wear what he was comfortable wearing and not what someone else wanted him to wear. Even if it had been Kate that had sent the note and clothes he wouldn't have worn them. With the origins suspect Drew was even less inclined to touch the far too tight clothes.

Instead Drew grabbed a button down in some indeterminate shade of blue and a pair of black trousers. Yes he was going to go to the darn thing but he'd be comfortable at least. Whatever the set up it was dinner with Kate and they did still need to get to know each other a bit better. He wanted to be friends with the fiery English woman at least. Foolish set up though this was it did provide that chance. So Drew showed up a bit before the appointed time blatantly not wearing the selected outfit. Maybe if the person responsible was there early to get things ready he could let them know just how little he appreciated this farce. He and Kate had already apologized to each other. There was no need for this. And if it was a set up for something more then they'd have to be disappointed.

Kate was very pretty. Drew would be among the first to admit that. However he'd put the idea of anything more than friendship with her behind him some months ago. In fact there wasn't really anyone that he was blatantly interested in. The thing with Tasean had turned out a once and done business. Drew was surprised at himself for feeling vaguely disappointed at that. Casual was what he did best so disappointment that it had turned out that way was odd for him but Drew shrugged it off. His love life wasn't in the spotlight tonight.