"I've made up my mind," Toby said.

"Oh?" Tybalt didn't look up from his book. It was a battered Tom Clancy novel that he picked out a rummage bin the other day. Toby wasn't sure if he was reading it for fun, or if he was reading it because she'd made fun of him for bothering to buy it. Or both, really.

"If anyone steals a kid, awakens a Firstborn, or throws a goblin fruit pie in my face, I'm quitting the business and moving to New York."

"I can think of several reasons you don't really want to do that."

"Really? Because I think it's a great idea." She flopped down at the kitchen table, across from Tybalt, mug of coffee in hand. God, it felt good to be able to drink her coffee without the knowledge that she wasn't going to sleep for the next couple days.

"Ah," Tybalt said. "You've forgotten its proximity to Toronto."

"Maeve curse it." Toby groaned, letting her head fall back. "Fine, I'll move to Moldavia. Better?"

"The Queen there is not so generous as ours."

"Now, anyway." Toby thought of the Queen of the Mists and shuddered. "I prefer the Queen in the Mists, I'll admit."

"I knew you'd come around." Tybalt sounded lazily amused, with none of the desperate concern she was used to hearing when he was in her house for extended periods of time. "And it is worth noting, it's somewhat difficult to take the Shadow Roads to Moldavia."

"You say that like you've tried."

"You don't know all my secrets, October."

Toby laughed and took a long drag of her coffee.

Technically speaking, she spent more time off the job than on. Well - not really. She spent more time chasing down petty criminals than she did trying to overthrow despots or stop the Wild Hunt. But right now, she had nothing pressing. She was officially taking a vacation - at least, until the next big thing came along, or she got bored. So potentially tomorrow, or potentially three weeks from that day. There was a lot of wiggle room.

The next day, she disentangled herself from her sheets - Tybalt had gone back to his Court midday the previous day, and wouldn't be back for another few days - and got dressed. She was long overdue to pay a visit to the Luidaeg. And, okay, the Luidaeg had her ear to the ground, so she'd know if Toby needed to suit up. But Toby was praying to Oberon - as much as anyone prayed to Oberon - that they'd just eat some donuts and play checkers.

"Oh, it's you," the Luidaeg said when she opened the door.

"Please," Toby said. "You heard me coming a mile away."

"A few blocks, anyway." The Luidaeg waved her hand. Toby stepped inside, noting that, once again, the Luidaeg hadn't bothered to drape her home in disgusting illusions. "Those better be hot," she said, going out to the deck in the back.

It was something of a precarious deck; the wood looked rotted even without illusions, and the table was rickety. But the Luidaeg sat in a mildewing deck chair with all the authority of a queen, and it wasn't like Toby was going to argue with the sea witch. She sat down, too, the donuts and checkers box between them.

"Set us up," the Luidaeg says. "And if one of those is a fucking Boston creme I'll throw you into the ocean."

"That was Dunkin's mistake." Toby pulled the board out and set everything up while the Luidaeg inhaled two glazed donuts. Almost literally. "What did you even do before they had donuts?"

"Demanded humans bring me sacrifices," the Luidaeg said. "Maidens, yards of silk."

"Neither of which is really as nourishing as a donut."

The Luidaeg smiled, showing teeth. "You'd be surprised."

Toby wasn't comfortable enough with the sea witch to roll her eyes, but she definitely thought about it. She waited until the Luidaeg had made her first move to say, "Why'd you never tell me about Quentin?"

"Excuse me?"

"Quentin," Toby said. "The son of the High King and Queen in Toronto."

The Luidaeg moved a chip forward. "I thought you knew. Even I didn't think you'd be this stupid about it."

"Liar."

"Careful with your words, Sir Daye."

"My apologies," Toby said, exaggerating her seated bow. "But you know I didn't know. Knew. Whatever. You were aware, and you didn't say anything."

"It was kind of funny. And the kid was better off with you not knowing. You would've tried to keep him from going into the field."

The Luidaeg said 'the kid' the way most people would say 'my son' - which made sense, in a mildly disturbing way. It wasn't like Toby didn't know the Luidaeg and Quentin were close. "I would've been right."

The Luidaeg snorted. "Yes, you would've been right, and the entire concept of blind fosterage would've been wrong. Give me a fucking break."

Toby winced. She couldn't really argue her way out of that one, and she knew it. It was just…"He's going to inherit North America."

"And a fat lot of good that'll do him if Faerie dies out in the meantime. You were a good choice. You were the only choice they should've made, and for once, they got it right. Now quit arguing and make your move."

Toby knew trying to bring it up again could make things get scary, and even if the Luidaeg didn't really mean it, she still wasn't in the mood for that. So she made her move and sat back, letting the cool salt-sea breeze blow across her face.

Tybalt still touched her like he wasn't sure he was allowed.

Not always. Sure, he could be domineering, and sometimes he was weirdly reverent, like he'd forgotten it wasn't 1800 and Toby wasn't some courtly virgin or something. Right now, he was staring at her, running his fingers over the top of her bra, kissing her stomach.

"Something on your mind?" he said.

It had been two weeks with nothing happening. Today Toby'd drunk two mugs of coffee - just two mugs - and watched a bunch of TV. She felt restless, even now, with Tybalt in her bed.

"I think I might be ready to go back," she said.

He smiled. "I thought you might say that. Take a case, little fish. You'll be climbing the walls soon."

Toby laughed a little, sitting up. "Let me guess, Quentin and May are ready for it too."

"You're making the Duke nervous, last I spoke with him."

"Fine." She grabbed his hair and tugged him in until he kissed her. "I will. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

"Right now, we're going to stay here until the sun goes down."

"Good," he said. "I like this plan." He kissed her, long and slow.

Toby smiled. It was easy to forget, when she was running all over the place, that this was her life - this, in addition to all the running and trying not to die. But it was. And right now, with Tybalt over her and the distant sounds of San Francisco traffic outside, she was enjoying it.