The knock at the door summoned only a groan from him. The hang-over from Friday had been manageable, but persistent. Nearly a week later, he felt like he still had it. Or perhaps it was the lingering effects of his generally pathetic existence, but—knock knock knock!

Cursing bloody persistent salesmen, since his luck dictated that's who it must be, he opened the door, fully prepared to lambaste the unfortunate knocker when he felt his jaw hanging open. "Holy sh—"

"Really!" she snapped, smile dropping like a stone. "In three years, those are the first words out of your mouth?"

That shook him right out of his stupor. "Nona!" he yelled, seizing her in a bear hug. Every tall, skinny, tanned and freckly inch of her. When he set her down, he pulled back, looking pleased but a little bewildered "What are you doing here?"

"I am taking an extended holiday," she announced as she elbowed past him, carrying a small valise with her.

Turning to stare after her, he took in her words and her bag, and scratched his head. "Here? You're staying here? You're not staying with Tim?"

"You're my favourite sibling, of course," she said sweetly, setting the case down in the middle of the room as she turned to look around his bachelor surroundings.

They often played this game with Nona, the game of "Who Was The Favourite?," and Octavius frequently lost, but only to Tim, and sometimes to Tertia, but third out of eight wasn't that bad. And it was only because he didn't coddle her as much as Tim did, and Tertia had an automatic leg up, given they had more matching bits.

"And I didn't want to intrude. He's been courting a lady-friend," she dropped her voice low. "He said to come visit, though."

There was a little lump in his throat, at the mention of lady-friends. He didn't want to load that on her the minute she'd walked through his door, however, so he voiced his second thought, which was, "Oh, but if I have a lady-friend, it wouldn't matter if you inconvenienced me?"

Nona gave him a disparaging look. "Now see," she began, walking into the parlour. "I wouldn't know if you did, now would I, being that you haven't written to me since, oh, I don't know. Christmas."

Octavius winced. "Has it really been that long?"

"I'm being generous since you sent it on the twenty-fifth of November, but I wager your heart was in the right place." She patted him absently on the shoulder as she wandered around the place, into the kitchen, taking in the lay of the land. "You've still got a goat?"

Oh, that was right. She'd never met Gebhard. Octavius tried to picture his life without his goat, and found it rather troubling, both that he couldn't, and that there had been a time where he and Gebhard had existed separately. "He prefers the outside to inside when no one's home. There's a sheepdog someone keeps a few acres down and Gebhard likes to try to gore him."

She was rummaging in his cupboards now, with her head stuck fully in one. "That's the one the crazy German woman you married gave you, yeah?"

Octavius was experiencing a peculiar perspiration along his hairline and wondered if the story always sounded this ridiculous when it was being recounted. "That—erm—sounds about right." Thinking it best for him if he changed the subject, he asked, "So, er... extended holiday, you said? You've never taken a holiday before."

Munching on biscuits he didn't know he had, Nona licked a crumb off her finger and said, "No, I've taken lots of holidays. I went to Greece to visit Nora once. I went to Paris with—well, that doesn't matter, but I went. The twins and I took a jaunt to Venezuela a few months ago. Oh, and I popped in for Christmas a year ago... two years ago? But you weren't there."

"Oh." Octavius frowned. He thought he'd kept better track of his sister than he actually had, but she didn't seem very bothered by it. Sometimes he thought he was only the way he was because his family enabled him terribly.

Then again, it was hard to manage ten other people, so it was probably more difficult than he realised. But it was their fault for having a brood of nine!

"So why are you here?" he asked, starting to reach for the biscuit tin, which she yanked out of reach by hopping up to sit on the counter.

"It seemed like a good time," she shrugged. "The hospital is undergoing repairs, since some Curse-breakers got involved in a dispute with—well, anyway. The timing. And I got a little bit of a surprise gift, I guess, is the word, before I left. Who is outside, wanting a bit of a run around after being cooped up, I wager. A baby ocelot with a broken—"

"An ocelot?" he shrieked, running to the door. "You brought a WILD CAT TO MY HOME?"

"IT'S NOT A WILD CAT," she yelled from the counter, nibbling at a chocolate biscuit as she watched his legs disappear around the corner. "IT'S JUST A KITTEN!"

The cacophony of a ferocious bleat, a man's yelp, and a scratchy yowl was her only reply.