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By 1PM, Bell's lunch had been delivered and she had framed all the pictures she was going to frame. Now she was working on hanging them - nails and hammer in hand, slice of pizza growing cold on its plate as she nommed intermittently in between picture hanging. Not long after the pizza's arrival she'd received her promised call. She'd tidied up the house a bit, although all that really needed tidyning up was the picture trimmings in the floor, and maybe a couple dishes in the kitchen. That and, actually getting dressed in something other than her pajamas, which she hadn't seen fit to even bother getting out of until then. Why bother when you hadn't planned on leaving the house until 'patrol time'?

Now there she was, hair up in a high ponytail instead of hanging in it's usual braid, and wearing a long sleeved version of the dress she had bout during her outing with Tallulah earlier that week, and house shoes. And she had a hammer - a scary thought to anyone that knew her and the story of the hammer. You could ask anyone that had ever helped do set work with her and you'd know that was something dangerous. However the likelihood of that little re-run was slim to none.
The moral of that story, anyway, was not to be a prema dona when you're a theatre newb who somehow managed to steal the role Bell wanted. Expecially when it means making her an understudy.
In the end, bell got the role.

Bell had to pause and take a moment to decipher whether the knock she thought she heard had been an echo of her own hammering, or an actual knock. Erring on the side of caution, she went to the door instead of resuming her hammering and seeing if it happened again.

Indeed, her definition of apartment was a little different. To her, this place had been advertised as an apartment, so therefor why question it? Also, she was paying rent and not a mortgage, which well in of itself meant apartment to her.
At the house beside Bell's, the neighbor, an elderly, yet lively, old man was sitting on a wicker chair on his porch, and noticed the boy. He called over to his wife who was tending to the hardy bushes planted beside the porch.
"Ey, have a look dere, honey! The young lady has a visitor," the old man then yelled to Xavier, "Way to go, sonny!"

Odd neighbors - Bell had them.

Not long after Bell opened the door and beamed, "Hey!" She then noticed said neighbor giving a thumbs up gesture and could have face-palmed, instead she stepped aside, "C'mon in," and ignoooore Mr.Whathisname.

Just entering the house you couldn't see much - the atrium held a coat rack, and a 'welcome' sign, as well as a small trash can, but you really didn't see much till you stepped through to the living room.

Bell chuckled, "Socialite of the neighborhood would be he," She said, leading him into the livingroom, and moving the pictures from the couch to the floor, and shifting the pizza, still in its box, to the other side of the couch, rather than dead center as it were.

"I like to think that when I wonder whether or not it is worth it to go out at night an patrol, the kindness of my neighbors will renew my faith in the good in humanity." because some people just deserved to be eaten some days.

"Well, this is my place," Bell said stepping back. The living room was sparsely decorated - couch, TV, and shelves that...should have been full of movies, but was mainly empty. At least the walls had a little something on them now. Or were beginning to.

Bell chuckled, "I pay rent though, so it qualifies. Would you like a tour?" not that there was much to see, but she offered none the less. "I guess having never lived in a house I kinda jumped at my first opportunity to do so."

It was true. She'd lived in a dorm for as long as she could remember - probably since before she was old enough to even be sent to a boarding school, for all she knew. Bell didn't think anything of having slipped that little admission though.

"Ah, thanks," Bell said, adoring that cute grin. " To the kitchen then!" And Bell was him through the hall and to the kitchen, a lively bounce in her step.

The kitchen had a lot of counter space that now harbored a row of cookie jars that, yes, were full of cookies, and yes, she would try and send some back with him. Evidence of Bell's most recent remodeling was a slight need to clean the floor where she'd taken out the corner cabinet and had a fridge put in. Of all the downstairs rooms, the kitchen probably had the most decorating,...even if it was with jars and a nice coffee maker. At least it looked like someone actually lived here. On the table was also her sewing machine accompanied by fabric that seemed to match the livingroom's curtains. It was all neatly folded though - testament to Bell's earlier tidy-ing.

"Actually, I got this place not long after graduating Crystal." It wasn't like she had much of a choice, "Its pretty empty but living in a dorm, you really don't accumulate much stuff to fill a house with." Bell was actually tempted to start hitting Goodwill to find little knickknacks to put here and there. That was where the cookie jars had come from, as well as the table.

Bell didn't mind the relative 'clutter' that was the little bit she had seen of Xavier's apartment. It at least made the place feel more alive than her place.

In which case the clutter was understood. And he was more than welcome to share the clutter. There was still an entire upstairs and an attic that was pretty well empty.

Bell nodded. She had never really participated in any of the school rivalry stuff, and and pretty well minded her own business, save for that time when some of the Hillworth boys broke in for a panty raid. Bell had been pretty pissed.

"I kinda guessed as much, seeing as Talulah goes there too. And you don't seem the Hillworth type," she said with a smile.

Bell peeked in the bag of pastries and took one happily. Pastries were awesome - like regular sweets, only with a fourth of the sugar. "Oh, help yourself to the cookies if ya want, too." cause goodness knows she could never eat them all.

"The price was right, and the neighborhood is good. The old folks are usually asleep about the time I'd usually go out on patrol, and still asleep when I get back, so I don't have to worryabout any questions. And I thought it would be nice to have a big place to have the Basterd meetings. One where no one would have to worry about someone ever hearing anything suspicious." Bell shrugged, "It is what I figured the attic could be used for, anyway." Yes, the place had an attic.

Bell often tried to counter the loneliness with music - she had a stereo system in the living room, and a cd player in her bedroom, along with a wide array of 80's music, so she was good on that front. That and she was somewhat used to being alone.

"So," she smiled, "on with the tour? Down the hall is the downstairs bathroom, not much to show there. Up stairs at least has a view."