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It had taken forever to find a decent batch of tomatoes. They had been picked over the first time Katrina and Claire had searched through them, and now that all those good ones had been smooshed on the floor of aisle twelve, finding replacements was even more difficult. Even the ones Katrina had eventually ended up with were not as good as she would have liked. Eggs had been easy in comparison, and she was now carefully headed back to the scene of the accidental collision, going slowly as to avoid reckless shoppers, moving hurriedly about on their ways.

She could hear the deep voice of Mr. King even before she rounded the corner of aisle thirteen. It seemed that the mess had already been cleaned up and they were just waiting for her to return with the squishy foods.

>>>"Well, maybe you'd let me take you out for dinner or drinks." ... "I might even be able to show you some of the New York night life that you haven't seen yet."

Katrina froze, then ducked into aisle thirteen, the one right next to Mr. King and her mother. Had she heard that right? Was he asking her mother out on a date? Her mother couldn't date. It had only been a year since splitting up with her father. That wasn't a long enough time. She should wait at least five years. Yup five years would be more appropriate. Or possibly even never. Mr. King had seemed nice at first, but this was unthinkable!

Just say no.. Katrina mentally begged. Just say no. She held her breath, listening for her mother's response and trying not to nervously squeeze the life out of a second set of tomatoes.

In the next aisle over, Claire was smiling. “I would like that, yes. Do you have plans for this weekend? I'm free all day Saturday, so whenever you are free would be fine by me.” Claire dug in her purse and pulled out a pen. “Here, let me give you my number.” She scribbled the number on the bottom of her grocery list, then flipped open her phone to double check that it was correct. It was a relatively new cell phone and a new number she didn't quite have memorized yet. He might even be the first person she had given the number to aside from Katrina.

In aisle thirteen, a teenage daughter was standing stiff in shock and wide eyed, not entirely certain what to do. For the first time ever her mother had a date with someone that wasn't her father. And it was most likely going to be this weekend. That wasn't nearly enough time to be mentally prepared for such a shock. Some weird guy crashed a cart into them, and now her mom was going to go on a date with him? This weekend?

>>>"You'll have to ask Ghost where she came from, and apart from the lice, no she's not sick. Not anymore." ... "She could probably use a bath as well. I'm gonna need all the hand I can get would you like to assist me, Katrina?"

“Sure!” The teen scampered to the cupboard of well stocked awesomeness from whence Slate had once magically procured a cup of great necessity. Sure enough, there was a small square tub in the cupboard. She put it in the sink, and began running water, testing for the perfect temperature for a kitten; warm, but not too hot.

>>>"Happy Christmas, DocProf!"
Ghost exclaimed as she reappeared. Katrina waved to the pink cheeked and grinning air elemental and turned off the tap. The kitten's bath was ready. Katrina took the kitten, and DocProf took the plant set it down again, and was immediately steering Ghost toward the examination table even as she was explaining its medical properties. Note to self, thought the thirteen year old, don't come to the infirmary with a tummy ache unless you really mean it.

The kitten squirmed. It had never had a bath before, but it must have instinctively known what was coming. Once in the water, he didn't struggle. He just looked up at Katrina plaintively with big eyes and and sopping fur. The teen squirted soap into her hand and rubbed it into the fur all over his tiny body. Then used a cup of great necessity to dump water over his back and rinse him off again. Quick and relatively painless. All while DocProf explained to Ghost that she had hypothermia.

>>>“Katrina? Dear, could you run and get something warmer for Ghost to wear? There are some heated blankets in the hall closet, I'll get that. You stay here. Right. Here, young lady. Hear that?”

“Yes, sir!” Katrina scooped the kitten out of it's bath and wrapped it in two hand towels that had been under the sink. The kitten she handed to Ghost, who was sitting on the examination table. “I'll be right back!” With that, she scampered out the door and up the stairs. She didn't remember which room belonged to Ghost, so she headed for her mothers' room. Her mom was busy in the kitchen, and wouldn't have minded anyway. She dug into the dresser, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants that were still new enough to be very soft on the inside. A pair of wool socks was the second item and a pair of cotton ones to wear underneath, because who wanted scratchy wool on their feet? A thermal long sleeve shirt, of the variety someone might wear underneath things while skiing and a big cozy knitted sweater completed the outfit. The colors and textures all clashed terribly, but they were all the warmest things Katrina could find.

With the clothes in a pile, Katrina hurried back toward the infirmary. She paused halfway down the stairs, and remembered that infirmary stays were usually rather boring, and having to stay there all day by yourself on Christmas would be even more boring. She did an about face, and made a quick detour to her own room, and then was back down the stairs again. This time a library book, Artemis Fowl, sat on top of the clothing pile.

“I'm back!” announced the thirteen year old. She set the clothing down on the examination table. “I brought a book too. It's about a twelve year old criminal mastermind! It's so you won't get bored. So, where is the kitten from? How come you were outside without warm clothes?”

Katrina could feel the pain half as intensely as Sebastian could. She could still feel the reality of the world, but the illusion of pain had caught her up as well, overlapping with what her nerves were really sensing so that she could hardly even tell what was real anymore. It was very difficult to concentrate, even on ending the illusion. Every wave of the pain that coursed through her made the painful memory stronger and more real. She could see the headmaster's face, frozen in a horrifying expression. She watched him jerkily fall from the chair. She panicked for one second, afraid that she couldn't ever end it and the both of them would be trapped forever in the endless loop of pain, replaying over and over that long ago summer's eve memory.

It isn't real. You are controlling this. You can stop it.

Finally she took a deep breath, letting the very real air fill her lungs with a very real relief and the illusion ended. It had lasted all of five seconds. Hurriedly she bent at the unicorn man's side.

“Sebastian! Are you okay?”

He blinked up at her, then sat up shakily with a “hello”.

“Are you alright? I am so sorry. We never should have tried this. It was a stupid idea and I never should have asked,” tears streamed down her cheeks and the pitch of her voice was rising with each word. The words tumbled out faster and faster until Sebastian reached up and put a finger against her lips. He put his arms around her while they both were still kneeling, pulled her close, and hugged her tight.

“I'm fine child,” he whispered as he stroked her hair. “I will survive and so will you.”

Katrina was shaking in his arms and her breaths came in uneven gasps as she sobbed silently in his arms. Sebastian sank back from a kneeling position to a seated one and Katrina collapsed likewise downward, holding onto him as if for dear life as she cried for all she had put him through, for her refugees that had suffered so much, and for all the violence in the world that made pain a necessary part of living and continuing to live. Sebastian rubbed her back and stroked her hair, like he had done dozens of times for his own children when they were feeling hopeless or lost, angry or confused, stressed or grieved. He could not heal this kind of pain, but he had found that it ran its course quicker with someone there to hold and comfort, no matter how old the child was.

Finally, the shaking stopped and Katrina felt able to speak again, “Is this all even worth it?” All meant everything. Not just the experiment, but everything; from teaching students about peaceful ways, to meddling in the affairs of people all around the world. Were they even making a difference? Was anything they did actually contributing to a more peaceful world?

“Of course,” came the unicorn's sage answer. The effort to create peace was worth the work, even if it did nothing in the long run. Even the effort brought hope, and hope was necessary not for merely surviving in a violent world, but for actually living in it.

After several minutes, Katrina spoke again, “I'm not ever going to do that to another person again.” She couldn't survive torturing someone like that again. Not friends, not even an enemy.

“I hope you never have to, but you now know that you could in an emergency.” Katrina was already shaking the head that was still buried in his chest at the response, but Sebastian continued, “There may come a time when it is necessary. When torture is the lesser of two evils. It could someday save someone's life or possibly even many lives. Don't say never just yet. Never is a long, long time.”

“Hm,” with only one m. Katrina still didn't agree, but she wasn't going to argue the point further.

---------------------------------------------------------

Time passed. The sun began to set and the light in the headmaster's office began to fade. Time had meaning again. Finally, Sebastian removed his arms from the embrace that held Katrina childlike against his chest, signaling that it was time for both of them to move on.

“I'm afraid that I must be going. I have a plane to catch,” came the softly apologetic voice of the headmaster.

Katrina pushed herself up off the floor once again, standing and stretching. She was exhausted mentally and physically, but emotionally she felt much better.

“Thank you Sebastian, I hope you have a good flight and stay safe until you come home again.”

“I hardly think I'll have a good flight,” Sebastian moaned jokingly. His airsickness had become practically legendary at the school ever since his first experience at the beginning of the school year. Word spreads amazingly fast about embarrassing moments like that.

Katrina smiled in the rapidly approaching darkness, “If flying is so terrible, you could always stay and I could practice on you some more.” She had to be feeling better if she was even willing to joke about it a little.

“No, no. That's perfectly alright,” Sebastian held up and shook both hands, warding her off. “Duty calls, and as much fun as it is to help you hone your abilities, I really must be off.”

“Goodbye Sebastian, and good luck.”

“Good luck to you too, Katrina.”

(WereCat's driving god modded with permission.)

WereCat was a good person with whom to take road trips. She was a bit of an aggressive driver, but that got them there all the faster. Also, she was able to go for hours without needing to switch drivers. It was very convenient for Katrina, who had some last minute preparations to finish before they started the next stage of their mission in China.

They were going to be bodyguards for the Chinese president, Zhang Xiao. They would be in a perfect position to keep an eye on the dictator and if any of the people he had displeased in his own country or abroad came to assassinate the man, his life would be the hands of the two body guards.

Her preparations included both the trip to New York City, upon which they were currently embarking, and the necklaces that were strewn across her lap, upon which she was currently concentrating. The necklaces were cheap, pawn shop and garage sale quality, but they would be one of the tools that would help convince Zhang that he had hired the correct people to guard his life. Each of the four charms carried one of her blonde hairs curled up on the inside. Each of them was a permanent sticking illusion, not to disguise a person as someone else, but to render them completely invisible to as many senses as Katrina possessed. As an added protection, anyone who approached within a distance of fifteen feet from a person wearing one of the necklaces would find two of their other senses affected as well; equilibrioception and interoception. In simpler terms, an intruder into the affected area would find him or herself losing their balance and feeling rather nauseous, unless they, too, were wearing one of the necklaces. There were four of them; one for Zhang, and three others for either decoys or hidden guards.

The young illusionist had been working on them for weeks already, stealing quiet moments in caves and camps as she trekked across China, punctuating the boredom of long plane rides, spending her sleepless nights being productive, and now concentrating on the charms as WereCat drove them northwards to the city Katrina now thought of as her home. Katrina's eyes faced forward out the front windshield, but she wasn't watching the road. In her mind, she imagined the nothingness of invisibility so she could make the Chinese president disappear.

The moment may have happened in slow motion for everyone else, but for Katrina it seemed to be comically sped up with Yackety Sax playing in the background. Everyone raced to intercept falling people, and falling people fell. Somehow they all ended up in a fluffy pillowy pile. And Calley was a tiger, which may have added to the fluffyness of the pile.

Calley was a tiger. He hadn't been very friendly to Ryoo-ichy as a cat, and now he was a much larger cat with much larger teeth and claws. His face was coming to bite Ryoo-ichy! Kat put her hands out to stop him, but the stripey head only pushed her away from the lizard boy. What if he ate the poor boy right in her bedroom?

>>>"I may have overreacted,"
Calley the now tiger was saying. Katrina's heart was still racing, not quite caught up with what her ears were hearing.

>>>"My name is Calley,"
he continued with large teeth very largely flashing in Ryoo-ichy's face,
>>>"How did you end up at the Mansion in the middle of the night, again, Mr...?"

Okay, so no one was getting eaten. Her heart could slow down any minute now, and she would be perfectly fine with that. Maybe she was still nervous because she didn't think Calley would like the answer to that question and those teeth were rather close to the lizard boy's nose.

Katrina wriggled her way back in between the teeth and the lizard boy. Calley would never eat her.

“He... he came through the window. No one would let him in the door and he could have died in the cold.”

She prepared herself for the growl she was certain would follow. No matter what, she wouldn't let the new boy get eaten just for making a mistake. She'd stay right here, between him and the danger. Even if the danger was her friend.

(A few days later.)

He had tried. He really had. It had been too little, too late.

Nigel Banks sat in the last room he would ever want to be sitting when he found out a world war had just started; the oval office. Of course it wasn't officially called a world war yet, but he was already certain it would be. The message had just come across his desk, and very soon it would be all over the news. China and Russia had officially declared war. North Korea had been swift to declare its intentions to aid China, so swift it was almost as if they knew ahead of time and were simply waiting for the official announcement.

Nigel massaged his temples. He was expecting a call from the UN, or more specifically, from the British prime minister, at time. As soon as they officially decided what they were going to do about things, they would be wanting to know what he was going to do, too.

That meant he had a limited amount of time to figure out that out.

He hadn't asked for this job. He was only a puppet, loyal to another man who was aiming to conquer the world. Now the puppet master had disappeared and couldn't be contacted, the world looked like it was more likely to destroy itself rather than be taken over, and the puppet was left to stand on his own two feet without any strings to support him. If it was possible for Nigel to resent the situation in which he had been left, he would have done so. However, the loyalty implanted in his brain without his knowledge and without his consent didn't leave him that option.

He had no orders, which meant he was left to figure out on his own what he should do. His first loyalty was to his employer, of course; what would Hunter do? Perhaps try to benefit his own position from the war by selling to both sides. Except that money was not an issue, so that would be pointless. Perhaps he would simply wait until things died down again and try to insert his own people into positions of leadership in order to rebuild the shattered countries in his own image. That at least sounded like something his employer would have come up with. It required waiting, though, and this situation required immediate reaction on Nigel's part. If Hunter wanted to play around with leaders after the fact, let him. As for himself, Nigel would have to act as he best saw fit as the president of the United States, unless he other instructions before the phone call from the UN came in.

He thought back to the meeting he'd had earlier in the week and slammed a frustrated fist down on top of the Resolute desk with more force than the was probably healthy for the old antique. Katrina had asked him to prevent a world war. In the few days since, all he had gotten around to actually doing was making a few phone calls to his advisers. They hadn't led to much. He had failed his young friend in that regard. She had been right to worry, and he hadn't taken her seriously. What would she have him do now? How would an idealistic twenty-something run a country? If her interests were really in maintaining peace, what would she do in a war; try to make sure as few people as possible died? Impossible. Try to stop it altogether? Even more impossible. The most he could do was to try and tip the scale one way or the other in order to end things as quickly as possible. If the US really were to get involved on one of the sides- and they used their full strength- they could completely annihilate the opposition and end the war quickly.

What about the American people? Nigel supposed he did owe some loyalty to them. He stood up, unable to sit still, and began pacing around and around rather than back and forth. What was best for his citizens and for his country? Probably staying uninvolved, to be honest. It would make them look like a bunch of pansies, but it would save American lives. Was that the right thing to do, or was that selfish? Which was the bigger price to pay, a few American lives or the entire rest of the world drowning in blood? If he had the power to end things quickly, should he do it?

He made his way to the mini fridge tucked behind a mahogany panel. The oval office may look traditional, but it just hid its modernity well. He took out a new bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. Ice watered the stuff down, in his opinion, so he didn't add any.

Had he made up his mind then? He had. Now he just needed a Pearl Harbor to convince the rest of the country. It would be for the good of the entire world. This job had been entrusted to him, by Hunter and by the US citizens. He was damn well going to do it. With new conviction he downed the scotch.

>>>“Yeah, everyone is taller than me, I’m used to getting boosts from my big sister when I want to see over everyone’s heads. Maybe I should make a robot that would help give us a boost.”

Katrina thought about that for a moment. There were plenty of times when it payed off to be tall. You could reach things on the top shelf, you could tower over bullies, and you could see at parades and in movie theatres. On the other hand, there were lots of devices that could be used to make yourself taller, from shoes to stilts to ladders. It was nigh impossible, though, to make yourself shorter. And sometimes being small had its advantages. You could fit into small hiding places, for example, or wriggle through crowds without having to wait for people to get out of the way. You could also jump into people's arms or ride on their shoulders. In addition, you could easily wiggle your way into someone's bed to cuddle and keep warm after having a nightmare or just because it is too cold outside.

“I think I like being small, actually,” came her simple reply. Both had their benefits, but she definitely was happy to be her own size.

Unbeknownst to the blonde haired youth, there was yet another silent being sneaking up on the group next to the empty fireplace. His feet padded silently closer.

>>>”Good Milo, Good little Robot.”

The pointy eared girl patted her robot's head and it spun around in a happy circle dance. That was cute. The illusionist wondered if the girl had programed him to do that. It was very sweet.

Someone else watched the buzzing, clicking, beeping, and dancing robot with interest. His ears were perked forward as he tried to discern if the little metal creature was a threat.

>>>“My name’s Shin,”
responded the phone book reading guy to Katrina's question.

“Nice to meet you! Are you a student here, now?” Katrina smiled in the most welcoming way she could. Even though it was the middle of the school year, the mansion always had new students coming in. The teachers didn't even seemed phased about it, it happened so often. They just figured out what level the student was at, and that's where they started.

>>>“Are you knitting? That’s cool. My grandma used to knit. Whenever she visited, she’d always bring all sorts of sweaters and socks for me. She even tried to teach me how…”

Shin's voice trails off and he drops eyes back to the phone book. Either he was shy, or he was really into reading that phone book. Katrina shrugged. She'd seen stranger reading habits.

The unnoticed Rottweiler chose that moment to attack his prey. The black and brown protector of the innocent and defender against intruders, also known as Bruce, leaped forward with a growl toward the small robot that was still beeping on the floor. He had decided that it was a threat and therefore must be eliminated. He could tell that it was a close relative of the notorious vacuum cleaner, whom everyone knew belonged to the dark side.