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Bella studies ghosts. She comes back after school and studies ghosts some more.

She goes home forty-five minutes early, though, so she can do some further notetaking in the privacy of her room.

And at the usual time, she meets Sherlock bearing a jar of breakfast.
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"Hello, love," he says. "Did you finish that argument with your father about crashing at my place?"

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"I told him I promised not to do anything needlessly reckless, to be more careful about keeping my phone charged, and to call if I'm not going to be home before eleven p.m. or 'borrow your phone' to do it if mine dies," she says. "And I think it would probably be a good idea if I refrained from not-being-home-before-eleven for at least a couple of weeks, especially so I haven't burned out his tolerance by the time prom rolls around."

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"A reasonable compromise. If you fall asleep again, I will wake you up."

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"Thanks. Sweet though it was, it will apparently not be practical to repeat with any regularity while I have a Charlie to placate."

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He laughs and kisses her cheek.

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"I do hope to go on having a Charlie, but perhaps my eighteenth birthday is magical in some way and I will no longer find placating him necessary after that time."

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He laughs again.

"I doubt it."
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"Well, if nothing else, when I'm eighteen I can threaten to move out. Technically all I could do right now would be go back to Renée, and you got less portable recently."

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"I did, at that."

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"I wanna go to L.A. or a suburb again this weekend, en masque, and spread around a little more pacifying terror. Are we out of known targets at this point?"

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"We are not!"

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"Oh good!" she laughs. "How long would it take to go through the section of your rolodex labeled 'in need of Slaying', anyway?"

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"It is continually expanding," he says. "I imagine it will be a while."

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"Are you going to L.A. when I'm not looking and scouting for this purpose?"

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"Of course."

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"How do you get there? I see you every day, it's too long to walk there and back overnight. Is there a train or something?"

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"Bus," he says succinctly.

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"I appreciate it," Bella says.

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"I am glad you do."

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"How do you find these places? Just wander around until somebody pegs you for a vampire and invites you home for a game of kitten poker?"

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"There is a little more subtlety involved," he says dryly.

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"Wander around until someone pegs you for a vampire and falls into step and you notice they smell demonic and then you talk in code for fifteen minutes and then kitten poker?"

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"Wander around until I notice a demon, follow them home, repeat."

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"Ah. No invitations at all. Doesn't that present a problem for a vampire?"

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