She kissed the statues as she passed them.

The Gardens.

Home.

Now snuggled up on her couch with her favorite slippers on her feet she sighed happily. It was nothing against Riverview. They'd been fantabulous. But it felt so good to be home again.

With her favorite news rags within easy reach and a tray full of goodies she was set to recover in style.

She promised Dr. Shilo one more week. One more week on bedrest at home and then she was going back to work. People needed homes after all. And it was her duty to find them.

Just as it was her duty to find JhaiNein. She knew what the theft meant. The mixing sarcophagus. Someone had wanted the receptionist.

Well, someone was going to find out that Fiora didn't like to share.

The girl time with Riley was a much needed respite from the antsy madness that was starting to overtake her. She pressed for details about the honeymoon (not just intimate ones mind you, after all trying to explain what honey and the moon has to do with sex and married couples might take Riley a minute or three). It didn't cross her mind to question Riley's aversion to the hospital she was simply ecstatic to see her again. The first thing she wanted to do was demonstrate her hockey skills but of course there were these silly things called stitches that kept her mobility rather limited.

She was instantly addicted to Buffy, having met and claimed a slayer as a friend. She wasn't sure about the crew from True Blood. Listening to people's thoughts would certainly make her battier than hell. As if to exude that point she'd finally had had enough of her own company, the temperamental phone service in West End keeping most of her friends from endless torment.

But there was always Cheung to corner somewhere in the building and expound on why Angel was far sexier than Bill. And how she thought Sookie and Buffy would make great best friends someone should've introduced them ages ago.

After awhile the super became kind of hard to find...

..hmm...

Dr. Shilo had not been thrilled with her overexertion and had threatened to put her back in the hospital should she push her luck again.

Fiora was in quite a snit the next day as she found herself compelled to stay couch-ridden by a distracted Dusky Beaumont.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm Bored!" Fiora wailed.

For easily the fourth time Dusky resisted the urge to tell the petulant pain in the ass just exactly what she could do, instead adopting the Southern Belle charm of her upbringing as she responded molasses sweet and slow, "Dr. Shilo suggested you keep a journal."

Fiora uncapped the marker with her teeth on a rabid little snarl and scribbled THIS SUCKS in bold letters on the open page of the journal before tossing it on the floor, "Tell him it worked wonders!"

Up off the couch she stomped for her bedroom area, Dusky's alarmed eyes following her, "Fiora what are you doing now?"

"Well I'm pretendin' I'm goin to the beach cuz otherwise I just might resort to seeing if I can't fit that journal up someone's ass!"

Whipping out of her kimono, Fiora shimmied into her yellow polka-dotted bikini that she'd yet to wear for the first time. Stuffing a matching fedora atop her wild hair she slid on sunglasses and a pair of flip flops.

With a huff she flopped back on the couch, wincing as the movement jarred her.

"Feel better?" Dusky arched a brow at her temperamental friend.

"As good as I'm going to get unless you got some kind of magic potion that'll put my recovered ass at the beach." Fiora responded with a mutinous lift of her chin, blinking back the sting of tears in her cerulean eyes.

Dusky took a long moment of silent observation before unfolding her leggy length and heading for the door with a, "Stay Put" delivered over one shapely shoulder.

Immediately remorseful for her snit, Fiora recovered the journal and spent the better part of fifteen minutes searching for the pen she'd thrown in her tantrum. She'd meant to write an apology note to the woman who had put up with her for the last few hours when her apartment door opened to reveal the recipient of her remorse.

Soundlessly Dusky made her way into the cute little kitchenette that Fiora never used, unloading a brown paper bag. Expertly she mixed up two fruity mai-tais in elaborate cocktail glasses she'd purchased. As Fiora stood in startled silence, Dusky added the umbrellas. Handing them off to the rarely quiet realtor, she spread out an ocean blue blanket on the floor of the apartment and settled upon it with a picnic basket and a stereo. One manicured nail pressed play and the sounds of the ocean waves spilled through the apartment. Lifting her gaze to the still frozen Fiora she revealed a hint of uncertainty that belied the efficiency of her actions, "Not a magic potion really...."

"Oh Dusky, it's perfect." Laughing through her tears, Fiora joined her friend upon the blanket in her ludicrous bikini, a mai-tai exchanging hands as she toasted her ingenuity.

She pulled the pretty spring dress out of the lockers she used as a dresser and sang happily, "Just another panic Monday! Wish it were Sunday! Cuz that's my Funday! My I don't have the runs day!"

She couldn't lift her shoulder still with much real mobility but a fancy little wiggle and some strategic shifting pulled the dress into place. The bandage wrap on her shoulder was slightly hidden beneath the puffy ties of the sundress. For good measure she grabbed a sweater wrap and some sandals. It was time to get out of the Gardens for awhile.

She hadn't made a single sale since Dusky had taken over for her and she was beyond frustrated with the confinement. It was time to get out. Time to do some shopping.



Hours later she was glaring at the obstinate kid blocking her way, "Look, brat, I don't know who ye think ye are but I'm about to kick ye where the sun can only reach when ye bend over and kiss yer toes."

The would-be thug took one look at her and one surprised look down at himself and took off on a flurry of feet, the suddenly too big clothes flapping around his limbs.

What was with all the kids running around unattended?

As Cheung handed over the box with a grunt and a narrow-eyed backpedal, Fiora was about to ambush him with the questions she'd dreamt up when the box in her hands suddenly went all supernova.

"WHOA!"

As the light and the shimmering effects entranced her she read over the scroll and sniffled in appreciation of the gift giver's thoughtfulness.

Padding over in her slippers to the kitchenette she put the champagne in the fridge and the goodies...well those she carried with her to the couch.