The Vampire's Apprentice

She smiled. "Thank you."

Kitty slid off of the couch and stood up, taking the book with her. She turned to him before heading upstairs. "Goodnight, Mr. McCleary. Don't go hunting any more werewolves, if you can help it."
 
"I will try," Kitty answered, then went upstairs. Was she worried for him? No, not particularly, though it was a habit of hers to become overly-protective towards things she held close. The girl was not afraid he might be incapable of doing things, but afraid something would occur that caused him to disappear. This was why she remained awake and listening carefully in her bed for a long while before sleep finally loosed her willpower enough to wrap its wispy fingers around her tired mind, bringing calm stillness to her thoughts.
 
Clancy eventually gained the willpower, himself, to climb the stairs and go to his desk. First, he stopped by her room and checked on Kitty. She was sound asleep. He smiled a bit then closed the door as Sam started to snore from his place on the floor. He did what work he could and was surprised to find he had not missed as much as he feared. He did a couple of hours of work then tiredly returned to bed. Tomorrow he would need to feed again. Perhaps he would take up Norville's offer.
 
Just a little bit longer.... Only a few minutes.... But daylight told her to wake up; it was time to be productive. Opening two lazy eyes, she stared blandly out of the window at the mildly-overcast sky. It didn't look like it would rain—in fact, it looked like it would disappear by evening—but it was a nice change of pace, in Kitty's opinion.

Pulling herself upright and groggily rubbing at her face, she recalled the events of last night. Remembering her last request before bed, Kitty's eyes brightened suddenly. That's what she would do today. She knew exactly what that was for.

Tossing on a clean pair of jeans and a light-pink shirt, in a much better mood than moments before, she used the opportunity of that day to wield the library's computers and do a bit of digging herself. Had she not doodled on her notepad, this would have been much more difficult, but fortunately she had a reference.

Satisfied for the moment, Kitty spent a while playing with Sam outside when she returned home, then made sure to do a few of the tasks she often found on the notes he left. With what time she had afterward, waiting for the evening to melt into night, she lay across the couch and finished the other half of the book she had started.
 
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The doorbell rang, summoning Sam's alerting barks. Mrs. Mooney stood on the doorstep with some sort of round dish in her hands, covered in tin foil. She looked as though she'd spent some time on her outfit and actually put on a bit of make-up. It was nothing over the top, and she was still in jeans and a shirt, but they were nice jeans, and the shirt was a V-neck, just barely hinting at cleavage. Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair that hung loose for once, instead of tied back, and clearly she wasn't sure what to do with it.
 
Pushing Sam back, Kitty went to open the door. Her face lit up with recognition, then tinged with confusion. She slipped out onto the porch, locking Sam in the house. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Mooney. Didn't expect to see you waiting outside. What brings you all the way across the yard?"
 
Sam whined and gave a gruff that sounded distinctly offended. She closed the door on his nose when he was just being a good guardian! How rude!

Mrs. Mooney cleared her throat and thrust out the dish. "I brought a pie," she blurted, cheeks reddening slightly. "My Norville told me how Mr. McCleary was feeling poorly, so I made up a shepherd's pie for him. It has everything a body needs to get feeling better."
 
Kitty smiled. It was a smile of finding the notion hilarious more than a pleased grin, but it was almost impossible to tell the difference. "That's very sweet of you! I'll make sure he knows you were thinking of him." She took the warm dish gently.
 
Kitty cut off what she was about to say before her lips even formed the words. No one else would know. She was smarter than that. "I don't think there's anything else."
 
"Oh. Alright. Thank you," Mrs. Mooney nodded. "Just, um, tell him I stopped by, then? Oh, um, I'd like the dish back, when you can." She reddened again and started down the porch. "Anyway, later!"
Mrs. Mooney had not made it even to the end of the yard when Mrs. Pugglesworth waddled into view, determination in her squintish eyes. "Yoo-hoo! Mrs. Mooney? I wished to speak with you! Oh!" She spotted Kitty. "Yes, please, come join us, dear."
Mrs. Mooney's face flushed, but for a different reason this time.
 
"I believe Mrs. Mooney has some very important stuff she has to get back to, don't you?" Kitty called, attempting to give the Mrs. and exit. "But I will be right over if you'll give me a second to put this away." Flashing a toothy grin and trying to avoid letting her mild distaste show, she disappeared into the house.
 
Mrs. Mooney started to make an excuse, but Mrs. Pugglesworth was not willing to let her go quite so easily. "Mrs. Mooney, I do try to keep to my own side of the fence and mind my own business, but I am afraid I have noticed some goings-on that I find I simply must protest!" she shrieked in her "calm tone," her entire body quivering like gelation in self-righteous indignation.
 
The door clicked shut just after those words, and Kitty now had a very good guess as to what this was about. No, Mrs. Pugglesworth would not let them slip through her grasp. It was unfortunate that the notion of their nosey neighbor had remained but a faint niggle in the back of her mind most of the time.

With a sigh, Kitty opened the door again and hopped out to the fence where discussion awaited.
 
The "discussion" was in full swing by the time Kitty returned, and Mrs. Pugglesworth rounded on her so fast it was a wonder the swinging folds of fat didn't keep right on going and flip her clear around. "Do you not agree, Miss Kitty?" she demanded in a piercing voice.
Mrs. Mooney glared, her breathing harsh, the fire in her eyes rivaling the fire of her hair.
 
The girl put her hands up in defense, playing innocent. "I don't know what we're talking about, nor what I'm agreeing to." She said.
 
"Well!" Mrs. Pugglesworth huffed. "Obviously I am speaking about Dorothy's vagabond of a son running wild and committing crimes every which way! And of course the other who is a complete stone head, and those two youngest run around like wild wolves! No fit mother would ever allow her children to get away with such actions! She needs to put her foot down before we are all murdered in our beds!"
Mrs. Mooney spoke in a cool, level tone, her words reasonable, but her eyes were throttling the mushy woman before her. "How I raise my children is none of your concern, Mrs. Pugglesworth, and I am sure you will be perfectly safe in your bed. My EJ may have made a wrong turn, but he is straightening out his life. The others are children. They are energetic. Perhaps you remember the meaning of the word?"
 
It was a subtle move, but Kitty slipped between the two, standing calmly and not budging. She was turned more towards Mrs. P. than Mrs. M., and she spoke in her regular tone. "Mrs. Pugglesworth, have you ever had kids?" The girl inquired casually.
 
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