*Ciara looks around the elegant house that had served as her Haven over the past year. The furniture was gone, as were the parasitic sycophants that had filled the couches and loungers. Most of it had been sold off; no point paying to have it shipped back to England.



It was odd how quiet and empty it all seems now. She walks slowly from room to room; running soft fingertips over nail holes that had once supported frames filled with pictures and artwork. Those too were gone; the valuable ones packed up and shipped, the common ones donated to local charities.



It saddened her how few mementos she had collected of her time in Sacramento; but then a year was nothing compared to the baker's dozen of decades she had spend in London. If nothing else, she had managed to collect her fair share of memories while here.



The thin Ventrue's voice breaks the silence of the vacated home; the soft European accent she normally spoke with giving way to her true voice. Rough and uncouth; her thick Irish brogue adds an inflection to her words that was difficult to understand for those raised outside of Ireland...*



Of all the money that er' I spent,
I spent it in good company...


*She thinks back over all those she had met during her time in Sacramento. She smiles, thin lips split wide by happy memories of time spent with Asa and Twist.*


And all the harm that er' I've done,
Alas it was to none but me...


*The smile fades as she thinks back to the night she was attacked by the bums; the feeling of the road flare burning away her stomach. If she pauses for a moment with her song, a pale hand going defensively to her belly, Ciara doesn't notice.*


And all I've done, for want of wit,
To memory now I cannot recall.


So fill to me the parting glass,
Goodnight and joy be with you all...


*Ciara had decided to not announce her leaving. She doubted there would be many that made a fuss over it anyway. But, she had made arrangements to have a single business card to be delivered to Twist's theater, and Ariana and Asa at Court. It's for the Dorchester hotel in London. No names, no instructions, just a room number. Should the urge to visit ever take, there would be a pleasant surprise for anyone that presented that card to the concierge of the hotel.


She continues her last walk through of the house, making sure nothing important had been left behind. A private jet was setting on the tarmac at Sacramento International, waiting to transport her to New York. A day spent safely inside a secure hanger, and then a mad dash across the Atlantic to beat morning sun back to Heathrow.


For too long she had ignored family obligations. And familial connections...*


So fill to me the parting glass,
And drink a health whate'er befalls.


*Ciara stops at the front door, wondering when and if she would be back to Sacramento. She had found so many things she had been searching for here; yet she knew she was leaving behind loose ends as well. Just as she had left behind loose ends in London when she had first left to come to the States. It seemed she had to start over at the beginning if she had any hope of finding the happy ending she was still looking for.



She turned off the lights for the last time, hand reaching into the pocket of her jeans to take out the set of keys. As she closed the door to her haven, and her time in Sacramento, Ciara's voices echos through the empty house.*



I'll gently rise and softly call,
Good night and joy be to you all...