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Bella bikes to the airport on Friday. She gets a little reading done on her flight, then sleeps-on-purpose through the remainder of the trip, waking up precisely when the plane touches down. One nice bonus that she didn't even explicitly build into the power is that she can sleep at will in virtually any position; she doesn't have to get comfy if that's not convenient.

She steps off the plane, backpack full of her things over her shoulders, and stalks into the halls of LaGuardia, eyes peeled for Libby.
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There she is! She offers Bella a friendly wave.

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Bella waves back, giving Libby an assessing look, and approaches nearer.

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"Welcome to New York," she says, smiling slightly. Her voice is very similar to Chris's.

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"Thank you. So far, it looks like an airport," Bella says.

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"I assure you, the rest of the city is more than just a rumour."

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"I have seen photographic evidence," Bella agrees. "Are we going somewhere, or having our chat at the baggage claim?"

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"Unless you are intensely fond of this baggage claim, I was thinking maybe coffee," she says.

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"I have been known to drink coffee, and this baggage claim and I are just friends," says Bella.

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"Coffee it is."

She beckons, leading the way.
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Bella follows after her, noting with interest that there are not spies about.

Perhaps they're redundant.
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Having spies about would give Bella more information than they could get from her, with Libby there to pay attention. It would be counterproductive.

Coffee, it turns out, is not very far away at all.
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Bella orders something sweet and creamy and complicated and hot. "So," she says. "Here I am in person. What do your powers of observation tell you that you needed to know badly enough to buy me a plane ticket?"

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Libby orders plain black coffee.

"That you're very impatient, but I already knew that."
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"Patience is only a virtue when waiting is the best way to get something. There are often many other ways to get things, and even if waiting will work, one may as well spend one's waiting period thinking of other options."

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"Reasonable," says Libby. "Right now, though, you want to know things only I can tell you, and the only way I'm going to do that is if I get a good enough sense of you to be sure you won't use it against me. So let's chat. I meant it about your goals in life, by the way. There's a lot of things you'll find a lot easier to accomplish with me as a friend."

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Bella shrugs. "I haven't picked a major yet. I do a lot of things. I don't think I'm going to go pro on the music or the soccer. Programming's more likely. Politics is interesting, but I don't know if I have the stomach for the career path. I'm eighteen, how much concreteness do you expect me to have in my goals?"

Bella is glad she did not go into a lot of philosophical detail about herself with Bridget. Friends, yes - but not to the point where Bridget could guess that Bella more-than-idly wishes to take over the world.
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"No burning desire to be President, join an internationally famous rock band, get a medical degree and cure a few cancers, any or all of the above...?"

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"The jury's out on politics," Bella reiterates. "I play the flute. I'd've picked up guitar or something if I wanted to be in a rock band. Doctoring's not out of the question, though, I could still break in favor of pre-med."

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"Personally, I think there should be more rock bands containing classically trained flute players, but maybe that's just me."

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Bella laughs. "I suppose it could happen. I haven't got a bead on potential bandmates, though, and don't do my own composing to speak of."

It will be a terrible pity if she cannot find a peaceful solution to the problem of Libby Being Sinister And Sometimes Kidnapping People.
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She smiles. "Should I keep you in mind in case I find a rock band looking for a flute?"

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Bella shrugs. "I won't take it amiss if you do, but it does not constitute satisfying my fondest ambition or anything like that."

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"I very rarely get to satisfy people's fondest ambitions," she says, "but once in a while I get to hook up the metaphorical rock band with their metaphorical flute player."

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"What are some nonmetaphorical versions of this pastime?" Bella asks. "It sounds logistically interesting. Being a... networking locus." That description doesn't have the word "sinister" in it at all; Libby should be pleased.

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"I find it very fulfilling, actually." She smiles again. "And I hope you'll forgive me if I don't say which one, but I have in fact introduced the members of at least one rock band to each other, and they're doing pretty well these days."

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