AN: Guys, I pulled a whole new chapter out of my rusty old brain! Thanks to the new favs and follows. It's nice to know people are still into this story after so long. Special thanks to my ole' reviewing buddy Nightmareprince for giving it it's 450th review! Woot woot! And thanks to the mystery guest who also reviewed.

Time's Not On Our Side

"Cameron. I'm asking for you to give me the time to spend with Jill in her final days."

Brie looked across the desk at Cameron Myers, the perfect California blue eyed blond. Wavy hair, white teeth, dark tan, set off by his crisp beige summer weight linen suit, sitting in his office with a killer view of the LA skyline. This was the man behind the films. He said stop and go and where and when and Brie needed him to cut her some slack.

She, Evan, and Jill had been back for a month. Jill had finally run out of steam while they'd been traipsing around Ireland. She'd tried to deny it, spending two entire days resting in the hotel room in Dublin, but Brie and Evan had been able to read the writing on the wall.

When they had returned to Jill's condo in California, she'd been fairly high functioning, as long as she'd been able to catch a long nap in the afternoons, but she'd deteriorated to being bedridden pretty quickly. Once the production company had caught wind of the fact that Brie was not only back in the states, but in California, three blocks down from the studio, they'd started sending packets of information and questions about the next filming dates.

She'd been able to buy herself a few more weeks by answering only selective questions in the briefest and vaguest manner possible. But today her luck had run out and they'd sent a car for her, with a very insistent driver. Brie had resigned and hopped in after some verbal back and forth with the driver, who she considered not much better than a mob enforcer at this point.

Now, Brie stood in Cameron's posh office, in ragged jeans and a tee shirt two sizes too big, gazing over his shoulder at the Hollywood sign in the far distance. She wasn't in the mood to listen to anything he said, so she was just waiting for the pauses in his monologues so that she could insert her own agenda.

"You know Jill. She's made you some great films and a lot of money. So have I. Give us this. Don't make me come back from some swamp somewhere to find out that she's gone. Don't make her think about the fact that I'm not there by her side because I'm off doing what we're supposed to do together, but she can't because she's busy dying."

"I don't know, Brie. This drags out the contract even more," he said skeptically. "And you already had that one really long hiatus... you know..." He made a rolling gesture to indicate he wasn't actually going to finish that sentence.

"Well, I'm sorry everyone around me dies!" she exclaimed. "I'll try to work on that for the future."

He chuckled and went on, "And it really puts us in a pinch for the TV show."

"I know it does. Trust me, I do, and if it really comes down to it, I'll leave in time for the next season to be filmed and edited. But, Cam, it's..." Her voice caught and she cleared her throat as she shook her head. "It's not going to come down to that."

"It's that bad, huh?" he asked, his face softening.

"Yeah," she said shortly, knowing she had him, but hating him for making her take it this far.

"You two really are close."

"You don't go out and do what we did for years and years without getting close, Cam," Brie said simply.

"Fine," he relented. "As long as you'll sign an addendum to your contract that states what you said about leaving in time, blahblah."

"Of course."

"And I pick the new director, flat out. No more of this selective, 'I don't think they can hack it' BS. "

She inwardly winced. Ever since she'd gotten back from Hogwarts, and then back from Europe, she'd been rejecting directors for one reason or another. Mostly because she really didn't want to work with anyone the company had floated, but also because the more people she rejected, the more time it took to find other candidates, and the more time she'd had with Jill. There had been one or two picks who actually would have been at least alright to work with, but she'd rejected them anyway. Now Cameron was going to paint her into a corner because she needed something, and he could get what he wanted.

Really though, she shouldn't have expected to get away from Cameron Meyers' office, asking for a favor, without some sort of loss for her and gain for him. It's what Myers did and it was why he was where he was today. She was probably getting off light, considering how many months she'd spent running all over Europe, ignoring every message the company had sent to her.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. She could put up with whoever he chose for the last three films. She could do that for Jill.

"And another film," he tossed out.

"No," she said flat out. "Not on the same contract." She wasn't that desperate.

"Fine." He shrugged. "Had to try."

"Wouldn't have expected anything else," she answered as she rose to leave.

"Brie." Cameron stopped her and she turned.

"Tell Jill..." He faltered for the first time since she'd known him. "Tell her we're all thinking about her," he finally finished. Brie nodded and left.

The car that had brought her to the studio was nowhere to be found when she made her way down to the street. With an annoyed sigh at what she was sure was an intentional power play by Cameron, she shoved her hands in her pockets and turned to walk back to Jill's place. At least the walk would serve to take the edge off of her anger by the time she finished the three blocks between the studio and Jill's.

Palm trees blew in the slight breeze that lifted her hair and made it dance around her face. Earlier, it had rained, and even though they were in the city, everything still smelled clean for a little while. Soon the city smells of hot asphalt, old garbage, and various street foods would take over again, but for now, there was a sweetness to the air.

The lighting was dim when she returned. Evan had closed all the blinds against the sun. Jill must have been napping.

"Hey," he said as she quietly closed the door.

She nodded towards him, still not in a good enough mood to have much of a conversation.

"How'd it go?"

"Don't ask, but I've got the time I need, provided that I leave to film with enough time to get the TV show out on time, no matter what."

"What did you have to give him?"

"Everything," she said, shortly.

"That's Myers," Evan sighed.

"Yeah. That's Myers," she repeated. "Thanks for dealing with him while I was teaching at Hogwarts. I'd forgotten what a turd he can be."

"Yeah, I think you owe me more for that than anything else while you were away."

"Remind me to give you a raise when we get back," she said sarcastically.

He gave a halfhearted chuckle. "You got some mail," he said, gesturing to the side table where they put it.

The post office had finally succeeded in forwarding all the facilities mail to Jill's place earlier in the week. She'd had quite a few overdue bills to pay when they'd finally started rolling in.

"More bills, I bet," she said as she picked up the stack and wandered off to open it all. Sliding open the terrace door, she stepped out and sank into one of the small chairs that sat on either side of a round, glass end table.

As she sorted through the junk and the known bills, she came across a curious envelope. The hand writing didn't look familiar, but the manner of writing did. Her address was haltingly scrawled across the envelope like the person writing it hadn't been familiar with that style of addressing. And although it was definitely a Muggle envelope, it was unmistakably written with a quill dipped in ink. There were even a few places where the ink had dripped.

She knew for sure it wasn't Severus' writing and was fairly certain it wasn't Albus' either. She'd seen enough of his staff memos to know. Wondering if it was perhaps Hagrid, she carefully ran her finger under the flap and popped it open. She pulled out several neatly folded sheets of unlined Muggle stationary, which she unfolded and began to read. The first page held only a few brief words.

Dear Brie,

Like the other recipients of your scholarship, I felt it only fair that I in fact did send in an essay. Hope you are well.

Best,

Remus.

She shifted the page to the back and, amused, began on the next one.

The most influential person in my life was actually several young children. As I was a young child myself, it seemed quite fitting. Early in my life, I was struck with an 'ailment' that made many things impossible for me to participate in as a matter of public safety. I'm not going to pretend it is not known, or be illusive about naming it. I, Remus Lupin, am a werewolf. A fact which is a constant challenge to any kind of normal life, even by wizarding standards.

But there was one wizard who believed that my condition shouldn't exclude me from an education and an experience that young witches and wizards all over Britain have. Albus Dumbledore made it possible for me to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For a short time, that act made him the most influential person in my short life. Although, I suppose one could argue that the person who bit me and turned me into a werewolf should hold the ultimate title. I firmly believe that a document like this, though, should focus on the positive.

Shortly after I began to attend the school, that position would be taken over by three boys named James, Sirius, and Peter.

As I hadn't been allowed much contact with other children, for fear of what would happen when their parents would eventually find out, you can imagine that it was quite hard at first to make friends. Truthfully, I feared what would happen if someone found out what I was. I was almost terrified to talk to anyone enough to form any kind of friendship or bond. It's easy in a house like Gryffindor, where the brave and the bold preside, if you listen to the Sorting Hat, to disappear into the woodwork. Smaller and quieter personalities are easily and often overshadowed by larger and more boisterous ones. Larger and more boisterous than most, were James Potter and Sirius Black.

Fast friends from the start, even as first years, they ruled the common room with a mixture of raucous fun and good natured ribbing. In their shadow was Peter Pettigrew, a small mousy boy who had caught their attention. I couldn't tell you what made them turn their friendship towards me, a skinny, shy, studious young man, who had trouble speaking publicly, but everyday since I've been glad they did. For the first time in my life I experienced everything a child my age ought to. From pranks, to study partners, to someone's ear that I could bend, if need be. I had it all there in James, Sirius and Peter.

They changed my life with the simple act of friendship and even when I eventually could no longer hide my condition from them, they went through great lengths to assure me that it mattered not one bit to them. They were the first people ever to do that, and until a Muggle named Brie Waters, the last. I don't know who and what I might have become, had fate not smiled on me in my school days. Having some connection here and there with other werewolves, I can only imagine that it wouldn't have been good.

Everyday their influence on me rises to the surface, whether just in memories or in other more tangible ways and while each of those three boys became men and met different tragic fates, the thought that there are people out there in the world like them, willing to overlook what wizarding society considers a major taboo, bolsters me to go on for at least one more day. People like that are few and far between in my experience, but they do exist. And I have a feeling that many of them are the subject of essays like this. I'm sure somewhere, in some other Muggle scholarship program there exists another, similar essay entitled- Gabrielle Waters, the Most Influential Person in my Life. And as well deserved as this essay is for James, Sirius, and Peter, the one with Brie's name in the title most likely doesn't even scratch the surface of how lovely a person she is.

Her eyes misted as she read. She'd been joking when she'd mentioned the essay to Remus and she knew that he knew she'd been joking too. But here she was, holding a little slice of heartfelt thanks. It felt good and she hoped that he was alright and had everything he needed. She glanced at the envelope again as she returned the pages to it, disappointed that there was no return address. She had no way to get back into contact with him. She was tossing around the idea of her own little essay about Remus Lupin, who had one of the most indelible spirits that she knew, but without Icarus or some kind of address, she didn't know how she might get it to him. Even getting anything to Hogwarts would be pretty much impossible, though she was sure Albus knew how to reach him.

With a sigh she took the letter and folded it back into it's envelope. When she'd left the school, she hadn't realized just how isolated she would feel, not being able to contact the people she'd become friendly with over the years. She wouldn't hate a pen-pal situation with Remus. Or Hagrid. Or Minerva and Albus for that matter.

Re-entering the house, and tossing all the bills and junk mail back onto the side table, she went upstairs in search of her special magic backpack. Since she'd gotten back from Hogwarts, she'd started keeping things that were important to her inside. It felt safer to have the things she cared about all in one place. A place that no one could access and that she could grab up at a minutes notice. All the wizard gifts she'd ever received were there, along with her photo books, mementos from Rogan and her family, and lately some of her more personal financial papers as well.

Once she'd started putting one kind of important thing inside, it had only been a matter of time before she'd started to bring anything of value to the bag, sentimental or actually monetarily valuable. Seeing as she wasn't living at home at that moment, the extra security of it made her feel better about traveling with some of the more sensitive personal paperwork.

As she tucked the envelope inside, she thought again about the contents. Remus' friends had been Severus' tormentors, and though Remus himself had not actually been the one doing the tormenting, he hadn't stopped it either. She'd already come to terms with that, and the reasons behind it, but it still gave her pause. Until right then she'd had an unfavorable opinion about the other three boys. This letter challenged that, despite what they'd done to Severus. She still didn't like them at all, but it really gave her something to think about.

Both Remus and Severus had had rough childhoods up until the point where they'd gone to Hogwarts. Remus had essentially lucked out, while Severus had continued to have no luck at all. It made her sad for Severus, while wondering what life might have been like for him if any number of things had been different. Being sorted into a different house would have certainly changed things. As would making different friends. Not to mention his home life. The small amount of what she knew about that was enough to fill in the blanks about it.

She hoped they were both OK as she looked around the room for something to take her mind off of what she could do just about nothing about. Her gaze landed on the small stack of chocolate bars that lay on the desk in the corner. Once she'd realized that her 'mental problems' must have been caused by the Dementors, she'd wracked her brain for every single thing she could remember about them, hoping to touch upon something might give her a way to get her mind back under control. The best she'd been able to come up with, was the chocolate that Remus had doled out to anyone who was effected by them.

On the off chance that it might do something positive, she'd taken to nibbling on some whenever she felt that her brain might be effected. She was pretty sure she was sleeping better lately, and had decided that even that little bit of good was worth the calories. And even if it wasn't actually helping her, she had an excuse to eat chocolate whenever she wanted, so she let herself be satisfied by that.

She wandered over and nibbled on a piece, feeling a tiny bit better.

Several days went by fairly uneventfully. Once or twice Jill had been able to get up out of bed, so Brie and Evan had sat with her on the terrace, trying to talk about silly things that wouldn't depress any of them. Conversations these days were like walking on egg shells in a minefield. Jill's emotions were all over the place and they never knew when giggling about some shared experience would turn into cries that she'd never have that chance to relive them, or make new ones. Brie did her best not to let it effect her, because she could tell that Evan wasn't able to do it for himself, and at least one of them needed to stay functioning. It would do no one any good if they were all walking around like depressed zombies. She wouldn't wish that state on her worst enemy. At least not any of the ones she had at that moment, anyway.

Today, Brie ladled some soup into a bowl and put it on a tray next to a glass of milk and a few crackers. Jill didn't want to eat much, but they could usually get soup and milk into her, so everyone in the house had essentially been on a liquid diet for the last few weeks. Brie figured it wasn't so bad, as it was probably a good counter to all the chocolate she'd been eating lately.

"Soup's on," she said quietly, backing into the room, using her rear end to push open the door.

Jill sat up in the bed, supported by several pillows. She was pale and a bit sweaty, with a familiar old bandana tied around her head. It was the one she always wore while they were filming. She'd taken to wearing it earlier in the week. Walking in and seeing it the first time, had been a little stab to Brie's heart.

"Whatcha doin'?" Brie asked as she set the tray down on Jill's bedside.

"Nothing, really," Jill replied, closing the top of the portable editing machine she had on her lap and moving it out of the way so Brie could put the tray on her lap instead. The little editing machine had shown up earlier in the week, the same time as the bandana. She'd been fussing around with it pretty much any time Brie had come in to check on her or bring her something. Evan had noticed it too.

Jill swirled the spoon around in the bowl in a way that told Brie she didn't really want to eat, but was going to at least make a show of trying, for her. Before Jill could take a bite, Evan popped his head into the room. He looked cross.

"Brie, someone at the door for you."

"For me?" she asked, surprised as she pushed herself up and walked past Evan.

In a low voice, he said, "Yes, and he's got a lot of nerve, too."

"It better not be who I think it is," she said, suddenly ready to be very angry.

"It is," he said shortly, going to join Jill on the bed.

She set her jaw and went through the living room, glad to see Evan hadn't invited anyone in. She opened the front door to find Cameron on the other side, leaning up against the low half wall that separated the condo door from the yard and street beyond. With her eyes hard, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing here, Cameron?" she asked, bluntly.

"Well, hello, it's nice to see you too," he said, his eyebrows raised behind his shaded aviator glasses. "And I thought Evan was frosty, leaving me out here to wait."

"Did you really expect a warm welcome here?" she asked shortly, seeing exactly how pissed she looked in the refection in his lenses as he looked down at her.

"No, I suppose not, but I wanted to come over and let you know that we have our next director. He's at the coffee shop down the street. I thought you might like to come out and meet him."

"Did you really think I'd like that?" she scoffed.

"No, but I knew showing up here was the only way to get you to do anything about your job."

"Take me fucking to him, then I'd better never see you here again," she said, wanting only to be done as quickly as possible, which meant going with whatever little ambush Cameron had going.

"Walk this way," Cameron said, putting a little hitch in his step.

Brie followed, silent and unamused.

"Oh come on," he said, looking back over his shoulder. "You know that one, don't you? If I could walk that way..." he trailed off. "… I wouldn't need the talcum powder."

She stared at him, blandly.

"Geeze, fine," he huffed as they made their way down the crowded street and Brie wished that she was wearing something other than her oldest, most paint stained sweatshirt. "Just trying to put a little sunshine in your day."

"I can tell you where you should be putting that sunshine. You've got a lot of nerve, you know."

"It's what got me where I am today," he said, pulling open the door of a small coffee shop and standing back to let her enter before him.

"Your lack of a heart and a conscience is what got you where you are today," she snapped back as she went through, the smell of brewing coffee hitting her nose instantly.

"Also true," he answered, unabashedly.

Brie stopped just inside the door, and scanned the room. Any of the people she saw could be the director Cameron had picked. When Cameron walked in behind her, and a short, young, but already balding, man stood up and gestured towards them, Brie knew she had her man. Cam acknowledged him with a wave and gestured Brie over to the table that already held a steaming cup of coffee.

"Uncle Cam," the man said, as he and Cameron hugged briefly, patting each other firmly on the back in true masculine style.

Brie's stomach tightened.

"Scott," Cameron said, while gesturing towards Brie. "Meet Brie Waters. Brie, my nephew, Scott."

"Your… nephew..." Brie said, sticking out her hand towards the newcomer, taking in his crisp very new looking jeans and shoes. She addressed him directly as he briefly shook her hand with a limp wrist. "So, you're a director then."

"Fresh out of school," Cameron said as he sat and gestured for a waitress to come over.

As he ordered, Brie asked Scott, "So, what's the wildest shoot you've participated in so far?"

"I was a gopher for this one sports commercial they shot in a huge aircraft bay. Never been in a building that big before. It was pretty wild."

"I meant, like, outside," Brie said as she shook her head at the waitress to let her know she didn't want anything, and sat.

"Oh, well, I'm not what you'd call, woodsy. I've never even been camping." He sipped his coffee.

She began to feel queasy. "And… you're going to be directing… nature documentaries."

She had the feeling that Cameron was purposely not meeting her gaze.

"Oh, I'll figure it out," Scott said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

She mirrored the gesture. "Oh yeah, it's that easy."

"It's just three films," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What else have you directed?"

Now it was Scott's turn to not meet her gaze. "My student film."

"Cameron, you have got to be kidding me," she finally directly addressed Cam, since he was doing his best to not be in the conversation.

"This is going to be a great opportunity for him," Cameron said, accepting his coffee from the waitress.

"Yeah, if he doesn't die," she said, only a little bit kidding.

"That's what you're there for."

Her eyebrows raised almost as fast as her temper. "No, I'm there to host and handle the animals. I'm not a babysitter."

"He'll do fine."

"Bet he won't."

"Good thing it's just three films, then."

Neither of them could fathom that three films of this kind could be an eternity. She tried a different tactic, hoping it would make Cam really think about what he was doing.

"Well these last ones sure will be… different."

"That's not always a bad thing." Cameron called her bluff and with that, rose to leave. "I'll leave you two to work out any early details. Make this work, Brie. You pretty much have no choice."

He was gone before she could reply. She rose to leave as well.

"Wait," Scott said. "We need to talk about some stuff."

"Not now we don't," she snapped. "Your uncle ambushed and dragged me here. They need me back home."

"We at least need to figure out where we are going so I can research."

Brie paused. It was at least a good sign that he wanted to do research. Maybe this wasn't such a case of nepotism after all.

"We don't decide that, I do. soley," she said. "But I can find some time to pick an appropriate place and have it to you by the end of the week. You're right, the more time you have to research and learn, the better."

It was going to be a kick to the gut to have to start planning this trip while taking care of Jill, but she had no choice but to suck it up. She'd have to do everything at night, after both Evan and Jill were asleep. She wanted to avoid either of them thinking about filming as much as possible.

"We're going to do all these quick, kid, so don't expect any location too glamorous or remote. You don't have the experience to deal with those kinds of locations."

"That's probably true. Fast is probably good. You're not getting any younger, either," he commented in an off handed way.

"What in the world does that have to do with anything?" Brie asked peevishly. "No location is too wild for me. I'm not a hundred."

"It's not that," he said in an offhanded way. "You know." He gestured vaguely to his face and Brie caught on to what he was trying to say. Her temper flared again.

"What? Can't learn from someone who has a few laugh lines and a bunch of little scars all over?"

"From a marketing stand point, I mean. There's only going to be so long that we can play the sexy adventurer angle."

"We won't at all be playing that angle," Brie said firmly, trying to keep a grip on her ire.

"Well, what other angle is there?"

"Oh, I don't know. What do you call the 'learning because it's interesting' angle? You know, the way every other film we've made so far has been?"

"Boring."

"The ratings are doing well enough."

"But they could be so much better! Come on, think about it! Sexy jungle lady. We've just got to, you know, get you in some makeup, do something with your hair that looks good. Maybe take a few inches off those shorts you always wear and unbutton one or two of those buttons. Now there's something you want to watch."

Brie just stared at him, dumbfounded. "You're gross," she finally came out with once she got a bit of control on her temper. "If you think I'm going to agree to even one of those things, you're going to have to explain to your uncle why he's being sued for a hostile work environment."

"Don't go getting your panties in a wad now, they were just suggestions. We'll find some other way to polish this turd if that's what you really want."

"Nothing here needs polishing but your edges. You have no idea what goes into these films. You've never been out in the woods a day in your life, never mind a jungle."

"How hard can it be if you and the other girl were doing it?"

Brie saw red. "Listen, Skippy," she said, pointing a finger at his chest. "You're looking at someone who is going to have to bury her best friend within the next few months. Eight years ago I buried my husband and shortly after that, the rest of my family. Don't think I can't bury you. Your connection to your uncle isn't going to do you any good with me. I don't want to work in this field anymore. The best thing that could happen for me is that you do such a bad job that Cameron will just pull the plug on the rest of it. But rest assured, I'm coming out of this thing alive and well. I'm not, and I repeat, not going to baby-sit your fresh out of film school, suburban living, privileged little butt. When we're out there, you'll see what this girl can do and you'll see just how much you need her help. Hope you're a quick and independent study, because you're about to get a crash course."

With that she pushed up out of her chair and walked steadily out of the coffee shop. As she turned in the direction of Jill's place, her brain raced. She decided almost right away that she wouldn't tell Jill about this at all, and Evan was going to get the most cursory of the details. No need for the both of them to feel as agitated as she did right now.