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It's that afternoon after school when Bella next visits the Witchnook. (She already made another nighttime visit to pick up her powder, and it's safely stashed under the false bottom in the box full of notebooks under her bed.) This time she just needs beetle wings and a reasonably clear chunk of quartz. Her books and the goldvine bramble she ordered aren't in yet.

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Guess who's behind the counter!

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Bella stops at the doorway.

"Are you kidding me?"
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"I needed a job. They gave me one. Cute little place, isn't it?"

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Bella digs the heel of one hand into her eye. "It's adorable." And she goes, grumbling softly, to the bulk bins and the pick-a-crystal bowl to scoop up what she needs.

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Whereupon he is happy to ring her up.

"Cheer up," he says, "now I can buy my own groceries. Are you still planning to come over for dinner?"
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"Yes," she says, "that's the plan." She stuffs her purchases into a an old shopping bag from a clothing store sufficiently upscale to have opaque plastic.

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"In that case, I will see you then."

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Bella nods. She puts her plastic bag in her backpack, and leaves.

She shows up at the Webber household in time for dinner.
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Sherlock is cooking. The entire house smells delicious.

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Mmm. Delicious smells.

Bella hangs out with Angie; they do some homework together while they wait for dinner. Angie's brothers set the table.
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The food is delicious, but Sherlock barely serves himself any; he does, however, make a pot of equally delicious-smelling tea and have a cup of that.

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Angie also has tea! Angie is a tea person.

Bella eats with almost suspicious enjoyment.
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Sherlock drinks his tea, which is delicious. If he has a reaction to Bella's suspicion, it's not an obvious one.

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Angie asks Bella to stick around a little longer, after eating. Renée agrees on the phone to come pick her up after dark - this is a stupid precaution, considering, but Renée and the Webbers don't know that - and she hangs out with Angie in the living room, talking about miscellaneous things - their friends, their classes, the upcoming USADI recruitment drive for the senior class.

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Sherlock makes another cup of tea after dinner; he pokes his head into the living room to ask if Angie wants any.

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"Oh, yes, please. It's a pity you aren't a tea person, Bella, John has such good taste."

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"Oh well."

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"One cup of tea, coming right up," he says, giving them a whimsical bow and retreating into the kitchen.

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"Thank you," calls Angie. "Do you want to come sit with us?"

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"I might as well," he calls back, and he pours two cups of tea and brings them both out, handing Angie hers before he sits down.

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"Thanks," Angie says again. "Anyway. I wonder what sort of person is most likely to be affected by one of those recruiting drives? I don't think I'd go work for the USADI; I'd be afraid."

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"I wouldn't like the organizational structure," says Bella. "But some people don't have clear pictures of what they do want to do, I guess. I could see Mike going for it. Maybe Jessica if they promised her a desk job."

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"Far too exciting for me," comments 'John'. "I intend to be a chef."

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"Do you."

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"I would go to that restaurant," says Angie.

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