Unsatisfactory Answers

"Why am I here?" I was sitting on a chair in Mathew's minute kitchen. Well, I wasn't exactly sitting on it. More tied to it, by very thick ropes, against my will, after being drugged on the doorstep ... yeah, our relationship had really come along after the honesty of a few days ago. Not.

"You're here because you want to be. And because you need to be. Other than that I will say no more,  not now." He was so infuriating! I found myself growing angry, but forced myself to keep it under control. Kicking him - for my arms were not free, or it would have been a karate chop to the face - would not help anything. 

"Why have you tied me to the chair, after drugging me on the doorstep?" I asked instead, trying to keep my voice calm. "I hardly think it was necessary, after I came here of my own free will. In fact it was rather over the top. Please let me go." I really hoped he hadn't used the same substance as last time; my cheeks still smarted from the allergic reaction. "You know I'm intolerant to medicines, right?"

Mathew just laughed aloud, throwing back his head. "Of course you are, little one. I've never met one of your kind that didn't have that sort of trouble. You go to the doctors to try and sort it out, and they give you more things which are poisons to your system, because they don't know any better! It's actually hilarious. I'd laugh if it weren't for the fact we've lost a good sprite or two that way."

"I'm sorry?" I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. "Did you say 'sprite'?"

He nodded, looking a little guilty. Something had slipped out that he didn't mean to say, hadn't it? I glared, suspicion clouding my judgement and making me abandon all pretence at calm. "It's a general term, of course, referring to any fairy that is green in colour, not necessary limited to those that can fly..."

He was half muttering but I caught all of that. All of it that mattered, anyway.

"What the feck?" I was angry again, suddenly yelling. "For the last time, I am not a fairy! I am a human being!" But shouting wouldn't get me anywhere, and Mathew just bit his lip more and more until suddenly, just as I felt certain his perfect white teeth would pierce the skin and make it bleed, he started to laugh.

"All right. I'm sorry. You win. We're ending this conversation. Now."

That was it. All of a sudden Jon was in the room, taking my arm and pulling me away the moment he'd cut my bonds. I was growing steadily more and more annoyed. "Now, hang on a minute. You can't just say something like that and expect me to wait until 'next time'. Mathew ..."

It was no good. I was being pulled from the house. Again I had the odd sensation of time reversing itself, for when I got to the car I found that only five minutes had passed, although I'd been unconscious for quite a while. And I was not a happy bunny. 

"Jon, you'd better give me a driving lesson tomorrow, so that I can give that man a piece of my mind. I ain't waiting four days." In my anger, my accent had reverted to its pure London form.

"No can do, I'm afraid. I'm not around until next week. it'll be, oh, eight days?"

"You've got to be kidding."

"Ten, actually." He was looking at the dashboard as he spook, unable to look me in the eyes. Obviously afraid of what he might see there. "I'm going to see my family up in Manchester. I can't rearrange it. Your mother knows already."

"You have got to be kidding." It was then that I made up my mind.

I wouldn't hang around, waiting for Jon to take me. I would go to Mathew's house myself. 

The End

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