Fiona was working, of course ( Read more... )

Fiona was doing the work thing today ( Read more... )

It felt sort of weird to be her today.

She felt unbalanced, out of sorts. She looked at her birthday coming up, her and Eliot's birthday coming up, and all she could wonder was if something new and terrifying was going to happen on that day too. Or would they be called home that weekend? Did she want to go home? Could she face her mother ( Read more... )

Fiona had enjoyed her handwaved visit to see her brother's school. The Institute was certainly... different. Very strict and stodgy, with about half as much homework as their Mother had regularly assigned. They also had uniforms and strict curfews, lots of things that are probably going to get Jossed as soon as the new chapters of the next book ( Read more... )

Fiona threw herself into work with the abandon of the newly single. There was research to do, books to replace and reindex, calls to answer, forms to file; she was keeping busy.

That was when the phone rang. She answered it ( without thinking. )

No announcement had been made concerning the cancellation of Fight Club, so as members fought their way to Atlas Gym, snow continued to come down around them. Huge drifts of it, starting to reach astronomical heights ( Read more... )

Fiona was catching up on all that she had left behind when she'd left early the other day. Of course the other employees had done some of it, the time critical parts, but she was glad they'd left her most of it since she'd have felt horrible to have someone have to do her work ( Read more... )

Fiona was doing her research and her job, of course, but she was also sending out a few emails, mostly to check in with people ( Read more... )

Fiona was, regardless of what she'd spoken to Griff about, looking online to see if there was anything she could get him for... whatever holiday he might celebrate that was in December. She was keeping it small, relatively low-cost, but she wanted to give him something. Hopefully, he would appreciate the surprise ( Read more... )

So far, so good. Nothing had exploded, no one was a beaver, and there was not a single ice rink to be seen. Maple syrup was absent, was any other unfortunate substance. No one tasted like anything specific--

This might in fact be a production without something going wrong, though Geoffrey wouldn't even quite think the thought for fear of ( Read more... )