Sarah sat on what was now her desk, her feet on the chair, wobbling it left and right as she studied the room. Having lived in cramped apartments for the past five years, she didn't have a lot of stuff and, as such, her new lodgings felt distinctly empty. She sat staring at a blank wall, wondering what she could use to brighten up the stark void.

"Maybe a bookshelf?" she mused to herself, then quietly added, "...For the twelve books I have."

A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, expecting Diana, but getting Sam instead. He had taken the time to put on a shirt, but it barely seemed to fit, clinging tightly to his form.

"...Sam, right?" Sarah greeted him.

"Samuel," was the terse correction. He had a raspy voice, as if he had forgotten to drink all day, "Diana asks if you want to come down for dinner."

Sarah was about to reply that she'd have a sandwich in her room, though Samuel persisted before she could.

"And I personally would like you to buzz off for a bit so I can wire the room."

"...Wire?" Sarah asked, stopping the swiveling of her chair, "Like, hidden cameras?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "You want to get online and watch TV, don't you? So if you could just clear out for thirty minutes, I can be done with this and get back my real work."

Sarah shrugged, getting up from her desk, "What is your real work?"

"That's above your head, now scram."

"I'll let you talk to me like that," she replied icily, "just once."

There was a moment of tense silence, then she pushed past Sam out of the room.

As expected, Sarah found Diana in the kitchen, once again wearing little more than her apron. She was singing to herself as she removed the crowns from a bowl of strawberries.

"No matter what you do on the stage, keep it light, keep it bright, mhm mhm mhmmmmmm."

She sucked some strawberry juice off her pinkie, turning around from the counter to see who had joined her.

"Oh," she said, her pinkie still on her lips, she sucked the juice off then pulled it away with a soft 'pop', "Sarah."

She licked the remains of the juice from her lips before asking, "Sam sent you down?"

"Real charmer, that one," Sarah replied, "Is he always like that?"

"He's fine when he gets used to you. Doesn't like it when people, how should I put this... intrude in his world."

Sarah raised her brows, but didn't say anything.

"Dinner then?" Diana cheerfully continued.

Sarah took a chair at the kitchen table, implying her answer, watching Diana fuss over her pots. The redhead suddenly put her nose in the air and inhaled deeply.

"You've met Father Kramer?" she wanted to know, not turning away from whatever she was making.

"Who?"

"Our across the street neighbor. Bit of a B-book thumper."

Sarah resisted a scoffing laugh, before trying to sound as innocent as possible with her next question.

"B-book? Are you like a rabid atheist?"

"Farthest thing from it," Diana said airily, "I just don't much care for... those people. Besides, they don't care for me either, which is why they want me out of the neighborhood."

"You're joking."

"Oh no," Diana laughed, "They have the Home Owner's Association. This house is an eyesore to them, plus there are other reasons they don't like me."

"I'll tell you over breakfast tomorrow."

An egg timer went off and Diana forgot about the conversation, quickly serving the meal for Sarah though not helping herself to a plate.

"Not hungry?"

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"I eat while cooking," Diana smiled, "So I've had my fill. Have to know how it tastes before I serve it. How is it?"

Sarah looked at her plate, identifying the pasta on it as tortellini.

"I'm sure it's great," she said, balancing a bite on her fork and watching the steam curl off it briefly, before finally putting it in her mouth. It tasted fine, which she was about to answer, when she swallowed and the burning sensation followed. Tears sprang to her eyes and she felt her face turn red. Through misty eyes, she saw Diana clasp her hands over her mouth, then rush to get Sarah a glass of milk.

"That's a bit much..." Sarah said a moment later, breathing heavily

"I'm so sorry," Diana said placatingly, "That's what I'm going to eat after work."

Sarah downed the rest of her milk before finally regaining her composure enough to speak.

"Tastes great," she smiled weakly, "Apart from the mustard gas."

Shaking her head to herself, Diana served her a fresh plate, "This should be easier on you."

Sarah carefully took a bite, found this plate didn't make her feel like her entire body was on fire and hid a sigh of relief.

"That's a lot of pepper," Sarah observed, inclining her head to the abandoned plate of extra spicy food that was still on the table, "Are you from down south?"

"Sort of," was Diana's giggled answer. All she had to say before she moved the bowl of strawberries to the kitchen table to continue the decrowning.

"Dessert," she informed Sarah, "And some for later.... Speaking of later."

Diana left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, making sure she had Sarah's full attention.

"Hm?" was all the eating woman said in return.

"I'm going to have a guest over and I'd like you to stay in your room while they're here."

Sarah blinked in confused, then spoke through a mouthful of pasta, "Why?"

"You could go out too," Diana mused, "But they'll be here all night and you probably don't want to climb in through the window."

"But why should I hide from," Sarah stopped in the middle of the sentence to swallow her food, "Whoever they are."

"If you can do this for me, Sarah," Diana said, calmly lobbing off another crown with her thumbnail, "I will come clean first thing in the morning. Well, if I think you're ready for it. I'll bring you snacks and drinks too. Please, Sarah?"

Diana lowered her glasses slightly to give Sarah puppy eyes, an odd experience as the orange seemed to swirl in them again.

"It's your house, I suppose," Sarah finally shrugged, continuing her meal, "As long as you don't make a habit out of locking me up, I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

"That's a bit mu... Oh wait, that's from Harry Potter, isn't it?"

"Sure is, "Sarah said, "By the by, this pasta is great."

Diana's glasses returned to their proper perch and she bared her teeth in a wide smile, "Glad to hear it."

Sarah had taken a long shower, helped herself to Diana's fancy imported soaps, and now was lounging on her bed in her bathrobe, watching the television Sam had installed. Well, not so much watching as chasing channels. Even though Diana seemed to have a subscription that included every channel in the world, she couldn't find anything worth her time.

She was about to turn off the TV when there was a knock on the door.

"Sarah, dear, are you decent?"

"By your or my standards?" she called back.

Diana laughed, melodious and cheerful, then didn't wait for permission to enter.

"And you ask if I'm decent," Sarah asked incredulously when she saw what Diana had on.

"Would you believe me if I told you it's cultural?"

"What culture is the Marquis de Sade?"

"As much as I'd love to exchange quips, Sarah, sweetie," Diana said, putting a tray with a variety of snacks on it on the edge of Sarah's bed, "I really would, but work calls."

"...Are you a prostitute? Or uhh, dominatrix?"

Diana winked, "Tomorrow, dear. It will all make sense tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night," Sarah mumbled, took a pretzel from the tray and watched Diana leave the room. The redhead gave a last look over her shoulder and for some reason Sarah thought she looked guilty. Then the door closed.

"That," Sarah said to herself when she was sure she was alone, "Was a lot of latex for not a lot of clothes."

She turned her attention back to the tv, but nothing could interest her, so she placed the tray of snacks on her desk and retired for the night.

Sarah shot up in the sheets, bathing in sweat, then looked around the dark.

"Well," she said to herself, grabbing a glass of water from the night stand, "I'm not being burned for witchcraft. That's nice."

She gulped down the water, then tried to remember when she had gotten, or if she had even gotten it herself. It didn't matter. She was glad it was there.

Laying back down, she tried to make sense of what she had dreamed. It had started with a vivid dream of her first, and only, boyfriend and their unsuccessful attempt to make love. She was fine with the memory of both of them being too nervous to get in the proper mood, but it had quickly turned into horrible nightmares of inquisitors and torture, ending in her being thrown on the pyre and finally waking up.

"Just a dream," she said to herself, pulling the blankets up to her chin. When the wind sent a ripple through the curtains and a window slammed shut she pulled them over her head.

She didn't dare move her blankets until she heard the front door open and Diana's cheerful laugh cut through the eerie silence.

There were two more voices. One sonorous male and one that Sarah could only describe as squeaky, scratchy, and deep all at once. The language they were speaking however was entirely alien to Sarah, unable to even guess what continent the language was from.

A few moments later, the sound of a motorcycle leaving and speeding into the night. She picked up her phone from the floor and checked the time. It was around four in the morning.

Shaking her head, she listened to the sound of somebody, probably Diana, coming up the stairs, followed by the gentlest knock on the door.

"Sarah, sweetie, are you up?"

Sarah nodded meekly before realizing that was rather pointless and opened her mouth to respond. Diana had already cracked the door and left herself in. She was in a bathrobe and sat down at the foot of Sarah's bed.

"You okay, honey? Still up?"

"Just a bad dream," Sarah assured the woman and got a light pat on her foot in return.

"That's okay... Comes with the territory."

"I'm sorry, What?"

"Explain in the morning..." Diana said, making sure not to meet Sarah's eye.

"It is morning!"

"Go back to sleep," Diana laughed, "I'll explain over breakfast if you promise not to throw anything at me."

"We'll see," was all Sarah had to say to that.

Diana patted Sarah's foot again, then got up, "Sweet dreams, dear."

"Can't be worse than what I've had."

Gigging, Diana left the room, leaving Sarah to stare at the dark ceiling.