"Why, thank you for the concern, Miss Jane.  No, I was just having a nightmare.  Though given the time, I should probably call it a daymare.  Part of my PTSD from my time in the Army."  It was a lie, but a convenient one.  Yes, he'd served in the Army and seen combat.  But the main source of his trauma came from that last night as a cop.  "I should probably warn you that it will probably happen on a semi-regular basis.  Which is why I'm sometimes up at night and sleeping during the day.  If I'm going to let out a scream as I wake, I try to time it so others aren't asleep."<br/><br/>Listening to himself explain the situation, Darius realized he was making himself seem less and less a desirable next-door neighbor.  Which was a pity, because Jane looked like someone he would have liked to become friends with.  He wasn't interested in something more than friendship, though.  A man who's living a lie by claiming to be someone else didn't make for a close relationship.  In addition, becoming too attached with anyone was out of the question, given the unsavory people who were looking for him.  And finally, he had some nasty scars from an IED in Iraq and additional scars from his encounter with Marco, all of which made him self-conscious about taking his clothes off.  Which meant that he was probably not going to be stripping down to a speedo and going down to the pool at the apartment complex.<br/><br/>"Where are my manners?  Would you like to come in for a visit and something to drink?  I think I just heard the coffeemaker click on and begin the brew cycle.  And you can tell me about the places to eat and shop in the neighborhood."<br/><br/>Darius had already done a brief survey of the neighborhood the other day.  A grocery store called Mama Garcia's Produce, a café called The Beanery, a used book store called The Bookworm, and the Italian restaurant he'd gone to the other night, called Luigi's.  All within the same block and all of which he would probably frequent on a regular basis.  He loved having morning coffee in a café where he could observe people coming and going.  Making up stories in his head about who the people were and what kind of fascinating lives they lived.  He would follow that by a stop in the bookstore that would probably last far too long as he tended to get lost in books, forgetting the time.  Maybe a stop at that diner he'd seen across the street, called Danny's, for lunch.  Then a return to the apartment, carrying a ton of books that he really didn't have the room for.  An afternoon nap that would end rather violently, and then he would feel like Italian, and a visit to Luigi's.  Since Mama Garcia's stayed open late, he would probably go there for some groceries after dinner.  Returning to the apartment, he would then begin the next chapter of his most recent crime novel.  But all that would have to come after he'd finished painting the apartment.