<span style="color: #FF0000"> It was just as he looked over himself for what must have been the hundredth time that his phone went off. In the haste to answer it he nearly dropped it in the sink, for a brief moment the phone danced in the air before his hands were finally able to get a grip. After that, he took a moment to calm himself, deep breath in and then slowly out. <br/> <br/>“Hello?” the greeting given as calm and “cool” as possible. At her question he flaked for a second, because in the haste to pick up and get ready he forgot to pick out a place. Fortunately for him the “Ums” were kept to himself and with his vast knowledge of take-out was able to come up with a place.  <br/> <br/>“Have you ever eaten at Golden Palace? Over on orchard street, across from the super market?” he asked.</span><br/><br/>The phone just continued to ring and she almost thought he’d changed his mind, which would have shocked her considering how eager he was for her to accept his offer for dinner.<span style="font-style: italic">If only to keep the poor delivery guy from making two stops,</span>she reminded herself with an eye roll and a light grin. But, he picked up, and sounded somehow…breathless which had her eyes narrowing a bit in curiosity.<br/><br/>“The Golden Palace…” Chrys repeated. “No…but that’s the place right by the stereotypically-placed Laundromat and pharmacy?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “That would be the one,” he answered with a chuckle. “So, meet you there?” he asked already out of the bathroom and heading to snatch up the rest of the items he would need for the evening. “Say in about ten minutes?” keys were in the tumbler for the lock even as he spoke, the locks engaged before he started down the stairs.</span><br/><br/>“Ten minutes it is,” she said with a smile, hanging up and heading out the door for the short walk to the oddly Asian part of their neighborhood. Coat on, wallet and phone in her pocket, she meandered over with, admittedly, a little pep in her step (now confident she wouldn’t eat it like she’d almost done earlier). Then, so as not to seem overly eager, she slowed her pace, still coming up on it before he did, so she perched against the wall and waited, eyes glancing in both directions occasionally to see which direction he’d appear from.<br/><br/>Hopefully not hopping about like the puppy she envisioned; More confident…less bumbling, possibly not blushing?<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> By the time he arrived he did feel better about the whole thing. She had called as planned, he had managed to not destroy his phone in the process and he thought that he looked at least marginally presentable now. The restaurant came into sight and it did not surprise him that she was already there, something about her told him that she liked to be early. <br/> <br/>“Hey,” he said as he approached an easy smile on his lips. “Glad to see that my directions to the stereotypical location were adequate,” he teased and gestured to the door. “Shall we?” he moved to open the door for her prepared to follow in after her once she entered.</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">So far, so not puppy dog,</span>came a wry thought as the smile returned to her lips. “What can I say?” she asked, smile becoming a grin. “Finding stereotypical locations is my thing.” Then, as he opened the door, she thought about forcing him to go in first, but changed her mind, instead tipping her head and dipping into a short, mock curtsy. “Why, thank you!” A light laugh, and a small skip later, and she was entering the establishment, greeted by a short woman at the desk with an overly eager smile on her face, quickly ushered to a table, menus thrust at her; So quick, in fact, she had to make sure Elijah had followed her with no issue.<br/><br/>“So, are you sure I didn’t interrupt some big night’s plan?” she teased. “I mean, if you need to get back to your reading and extensive workout routine, then I’m happy to let you get back to that.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">The mock curtsy brought a bigger smile to his lips and though she was ushered into the establishment faster than what should have been possible he was still able to follow along. At the table he thanked the woman before she departed then focused on the woman across from him. A smirk given and he shrugged, “Is that a fact? Now why would you be happy to let me get back to that?”  <br/> <br/>Now he leaned forward slightly, “Were you checking me out at the park?” tone a teasing one, though through some magic of will he managed to meet her gaze and hold it.</span><br/><br/>Shrugging off her coat, she’d been more focused on it than his direct eye contact right then, but when it hit…<span style="font-style: italic">Well well well…</span>came an amused thought, as she hung her coat behind her.<span style="font-style: italic">Someone’s found some confidence.</span>“Me…check you out?” she asked, a hand pressing into her chest as surprise took hold of her features. “Whatever gave you that idea?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Elijah shrugged and moved to remove his own coat, “Perhaps I was mistaken.” Is all that is said as he moved his coat and hung it along the back of his chair, “Are you sure I am not keeping you from something more important? Even though I don’t know what you do, it is probably more important than spending the evening with me.”  <br/> <br/>Though he managed to remain cool and calm on the outside (or at least he hoped so) inside he was on the verge of complete panic. Every tiny action, every gesture and nuance he went over in his mind as he tried to think about what to do next. All he wanted to make as good impression as possible.</span><br/><br/>That brought a coy smile to her lips. “Something important…” she repeated, looking thoughtful as she shifted, resting her chin in the palm of her hand and regarding him with a light gaze. “If by important, you mean a rerun of some crime show while I wait for the takeout guy to get to my apartment, making a wonderful dent into my couch…yes, I’m missing out on something of the utmost importance and you need to let me go immediately.”<br/><br/>Her eyes narrowed for a moment, scrutinizing him before she leaned back, hand falling into her lap with the other. “Relax…” Chrys said with a smile. “I can see it in your eyes; You’re thinking. A lot.” A brow quirked. “Are you always this…overly cautious?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> He sighed and gave a shrug, “I guess. I…” he began to go into some explanation from his childhood, but then changed his mind as he did not want to bore her with that stuff. “I am just nervous, I want to not mess up and make a fool of myself. I have a habit of doing that, but I will try to relax more, sorry…” he offered with a shy smile</span><br/><br/>“Stop apologizing,” she said, voice a touch harsher, but only just, the tone still keeping its pleasant quality as the rest of her remained relaxed. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, and I’m sensing that’s a habit that’s in need of breaking…” Her brow quirked up higher, as she continued to look at him a moment longer before her gaze dropped to the menu. “So, anything you’d recommend here?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Sound like my mother,” he said with a smirk and picked up his menu to look it over. “No, but figure we can’t really go wrong with the menu, unless you are not the adventurous type?” he asked with a glance across the top of the menu at her before he looked back down at what was offered. “As for this breaking habit thing, who is going to be the one to do that? You?”</span><br/><br/>Though her brow lifted again, and a “hmmm” resounded, she didn’t outwardly reply to his question. Was she going to be the one breaking him of that habit? If she was going to lessen any of her guilt, that constantly apologizing was going to have to go. So, yes, yes she would. But, the day was young. Why show her hand so soon. “The Chicken Pad Thai sounds pretty good, I think. What looks good to you?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “The ribs and lo mien look good to me,” he said. “Also some of the crab rangoon, ever have that?”  he asked without looking up at her while he looked over the drink menu though he would likely just settle for water as per the usual. “So, are you on first name basis with the delivery guys, yet? Or are you still working up to that level of the relationship?” the tone teasing and friendly as he attempted to try this whole <span style="font-style: italic">relax</span> thing.</span><br/><br/>“Crab Rangoons are amazing,” she replied, with a nod, already set on what she was going to drink, not bothering to look: ice water.<span style="font-style: italic">Safe. Cold. Perfect.</span>His quip was met with another light laugh, head tilting to the side a bit. “Now now, do you really think I’d allow them to know my first name? You don’t know who could be coming up to your door. They get the first letter, though they spell it like a full name, so it works out. Now…Are you on a first name basis with all Lost Girls or are you simply speeding up the relationship leveling?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I usually give everyone my name, I have nothing to hide and like for people to feel comfortable around me,” he explained with a shrug. “With the work that I do, I have found that people relax and are more open and honest when you shake their hand and give your name. We are still strangers, but we are less strange?” he gave another shrug as he paused for a moment. “Do I at least get the first letter of your name too? Or, am I going to have to continue to call you Lost Girl, which happens to also be the name of some television show that I was not aware of?” he asked with a small playful smirk.</span><br/><br/>“Not giving out a name doesn’t mean you’ve something to hide, however,” she easily reasoned. “It means that you like to keep that air of mystery a little longer; Names give away more than some realize, and just that little bit held back keeps things interesting.” At his question, her lips pulled into their own smirk. “That depends…” A pause, just long enough to make him think she’d leave it at that, before continuing on. “…What’s the magic word?"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Just as he thought that he had pushed too far and would have to spend, who knows how long trying to get her to reveal any part of her name, she responded with a question that made him smile. A genuine and pure smile that reached his eyes which sought her own before he replied with a single word, “Please.”</span><br/><br/>Her smirk turned more into a grin, before she relaxed into her chair again. “Where I’m not inclined to stop making you work for the entirety of my name…I’ll give you the first letter; You’ve at least reached the same ‘relationship status’ as my delivery guys.” A laugh ensued, light from her lips, melodic. “A ‘c’. It starts with a ‘C’.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “A “C”, huh?” he repeated while he mulled over the various names that could be her own, but held his tongue for the moment. “So, I will call you C for the moment. I think that is better than Lost Girl, right?” the tone remained light and playful. The waitress arrived then to take their orders and he was a bit amused to hear her order some water as well. While they waited for their meals to arrive he pressed on with the conversation. “So, C, what do you do for work? Or, perhaps the field you are in if you do not want to volunteer too much just yet…”</span><br/><br/>A laugh was all she answered for his summation of her first letter versus his nickname for her, ordering her water and focusing intently on him. “Guess,” she returned. “I’d much rather hear your perception of me and possible career choices.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Oh…ok,” he said a bit taken a back. “Well, I have to say that you probably do something where you are in charge of a group of people. You have to keep everything organized and running smoothly and…” he smirked a bit. “You expect the absolute best out of everyone because you dedicate yourself completely to whatever task you are performing. A hundred percent each and every time you give, so you expect absolutely nothing less from people. How am I doing so far?”</span><br/><br/>As he recovered from his initial shock and answered, she found herself leaning forward, a curious twinkle in the icy blue depths; Blue depths that softened as he continued, a brow lifting just a fraction as a hint of amusement made itself at home in her gaze. “Curiously accurate…” she admitted with a half-smile. “I’m almost scared to ask you to continue… But, since you were so dead on, I manage a book store. How close was that to your inner vision?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Pretty far off, if only because I pictured you as some executive to some huge cooperation where you managed people and made huge business deals,” he smirked. “Though with you working at a bookstore...I could see you being annoyed with me bugging you all the time, you know for the books…of course…</span><br/><br/>“Bugging me all the time, huh?” she repeated, easing back into her chair, casually giving him the once over. “And, how often would you be bugging me? Can’t very well need that many books that frequently, can you?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Maybe?” he said with a shrug. “I read fairly fast and like to stay on top of things, so I suppose you could expect to see a lot of me….”  <br/> <br/>Their food came and it gave him a brief break in the conversation, which was good because he was not sure if he was able to continue the current topic without blushing.</span><br/><br/>Had the food not arrived, she would have commented to that effect right off, but she gave him a reprieve, instead tasting her Pad Thai and finding it satisfactory.<span style="font-style: italic">Just the right amount of peanut sauce,</span>came a content thought, remaining silent as she enjoyed her meal, observing him with her peripheral for the time being.<br/><br/>Then, when he had a good mouthful, she decided to ask, poignantly, “How are you going to come see me so much for these books if I’ve not said which one I work at? Or…are you going to sporadically pop into bookstores on days I may, or may not, be working, and try to ‘bump’ into me again?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Knife and fork in hand, he sought to try and not look like a total savage to…C, while he ate. The question, which he was certain was intentionally timed, nearly choked him. A finger was held up to indicate he needed a moment while he chewed and then swallowed; to which he felt exceptionally self-conscious.  <br/> <br/>“Um…well…I do like to read…so, I suppose that I can just… do that. You know until I “bump” into you again...” he smiled eyes on her own as he thought about how funny that would be, but how it would be a viable option. As it was he already frequented all of the local stores, his tastes for reading fluctuated, so he had to check several shops to keep his hands on something that interested him.</span><br/><br/>It was hard to suppress the grin that threatened to show when she saw the self-consciousness set in, watching him think through his answer…and then even harder when the “um” resurfaced, as well as the pauses. “But, what if you always ended up missing me? What then?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Then I would have to try a bit harder and perhaps stake out a few places,” he said before he took a sip of his water. “There is always bribing people at the bookstores to call me if they see you, then I can just happen to show up and “bump” into you,” the smile on his face was not hard to miss as he thought himself rather clever.</span><br/><br/>That answer amused her, the image of him borderline stalking her when the roles were as they were adding a humorous if a bit ironic overtone to her thoughts. Her head tilted, a hand resting on the table as a finger tapped idly for a moment. “…Elijah, what’s your stance on fate?” she asked out of the blue, filling the void she’d created after a few, drawn-out breaths, face contemplative.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Everything happens for a reason,” he answered without missing a beat. “Whether or not we understand it at the time is really not what is important. But, what happens must happen and we are to accept it because that would make it easier in the long run. I suppose we have to have faith that what is supposed to happen, happens for a good reason,” another shrug, his fork used to push the food about a bit on his plate.  <br/> <br/>It was always for the good. He had to think that, had to believe it. If not, then his mother would have died without a reason and no good at all would have come from it.</span><br/><br/>Without missing a beat herself, she countered again. “So what if it were fated you’d never know the rest of my name, or find out which bookstore I worked at to see me again? What if it were fated this would be the last time you were supposed to see me?” Her eyes were intent on his, food in front of her forgotten while she waited for his answer, head declining just a touch as her eyes narrowed with a scrutinizing intensity. “What then?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I would continue,” he said again without hesitation. “While, it might be my fate to never know more about you or see you again I would not know this and would merely act on what I wanted. Even if my attempts became less frequent, on some level I would always be looking and I would never stop. My fate may be never to see you again, but that does not mean I would give up,” he said with more confidence than he realized he had.</span><br/><br/>Now there was something she’d not really expected to hear. He seemed suddenly…overly confident. Something in him about fate struck a chord, which had her fascinated. To someone else, it may have seemed like something out “The Police” would sing about, except the lead up to “I’ll be Watching You”. But, to her? It was interesting, to say the very least.<span style="font-style: italic">And, since he seems so confident…</span>“And, what exactly do you want?” she asked them, head tilting to the other side.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “A name and maybe another dinner,” he said with a smirk.</span><br/><br/>“Well, we’ll see how fate pans out,” Chrys replied, finally turning her attention back to her food. “Is your dinner good? You seem to be pushing it around more than anything else.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Still no name, he thought though his attention was back on his food, “It is good. Yours?” he asked. A strange line of questions and then to just change the subject back to their meal, Elijah almost felt like a criminal. The questions meant to keep him off balance so that she could gleam some unknown or hidden truth that he kept to himself.  <br/> <br/>“What’s your favorite book?”</span><br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">The Picture of Dorian Gray</span>,” she answered easily. “<span style="font-style: italic">Frankenstein</span>and<span style="font-style: italic">The Woman in White</span>are close seconds.” A pause while she sipped her water and went back to her dinner. “And yours?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Interesting choice,” he said. “I did not think many cared for the story of Dorian Grey, but my favorite is <span style="font-style: italic">Don  Quixote</span> followed by a smattering of other random things,” he said while he twirled some of his noodles up onto his fork. “So, is managing a bookstore what you always wanted to do, or was it something that you kind of just fell into?”</span><br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Don Quixote</span>...” she repeated. “That fits you. I’ve read it, and enjoyed it, but it’s not one I pick up often.” Then a pause, another sip of her water, nibbling on a piece of chicken. “And it wasn’t something I fell into; More that I needed a job, and it was offered to me. I much prefer it to some of the other jobs, so it suits for the time being. What about you? Did you fall into…What is it that you do when not volunteering?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Kind of?” he said with a bit of a shrug. “I had some social issues and turned to computers to reach out into the world and socialize to some degree. Turns out I am pretty good with them and went to school for it. Afterward I found a job at some software firm and well, the work is simple enough that it does not stress me out, but challenging enough to keep me interested. That probably does not sound logical, but I like my job and don’t really see myself ready to change fields in the future.”  <br/> <br/>There was a bit of a pause while they ate for a bit then he continued with the line of questions, “Did you go to school for anything in particular?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Social issues…that makes sense, based on what he’s eluded to…</span>she thought as the knife twisted in a bit deeper. Pushing that to the back of her mind, her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Eh. ‘Psychology: the Major no one will hire you with’,” Chrys joked. At the time, she’d taken it as an opportunity to figure out her own emotions to better figure out how they worked, her triggers, so that her craft would always be under control; It was merely a bonus that she’d have a degree and could later use it for a job.<br/><br/>…Or so she thought. They don’t tell you upfront that it’s one of the more useless degrees.<br/><br/>“So, you’re a computer software programmer who wanders parks in fast pace to bowl people over, an avid reader who’ll wander to all the bookstores in the area to find one girl, not books. And, you volunteer. A lot. What’s one thing you don’t do, other than watching TV?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> He smiled and looked down at his plate for a bit, “Cry.” The word simple and yet not as he looked back up to her, “I have not cried for a….well a long time now.” The smile he gave was somewhat sad, but it faded just as quickly as it had come, “And also I try and stay away from junk food. Got to keep my girlish figure and all.”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He’s so…open,</span>she mused ignoring the “girlish figure” for the time being.<span style="font-style: italic">He’s told me about his grandmother, about his life, his job, his volunteering, and now about his lack of crying…and that smile was…</span>A frown flickered across her features, but vanished, eyes dropping to his form with an nod. “Yeah, that…’girlish figure’ must take some upkeep. I’ll eat the junk food you don’t, though, you know…to keep order and balance in the world.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “So, then that is kind of a hint that if I asked you to the movies, you will be the one to eat the popcorn and other snacks that we get. That should work out nicely,” he said with a grin and just went back to eating as if he had not tried to sneak in a second outing with her.</span><br/><br/>“So, the man who doesn’t watch TV goes to the movies?” she countered, grinning at his not so subtle hint to another get-together. “Why movies and not TV?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I enjoy the atmosphere of a movie theater and well…not really sure where else to take someone to hang out,” he answered honestly with some embarrassment. “What kind of movies do you like?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">And there resurfaces the puppy…</span>“I like anything without a cheesy ending,” she replied. “Planning on asking me to the movies, or was all of this just fun conversation?” The last she asked with a more mischievous grin, eyes alight with humor.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Thus far, the whole evening has been fun. But, would you like to go to the movies with me at some point? Say….next Saturday good for you?” he asked with a bit more confidence than he had ended the last bit of the conversation.</span><br/><br/>“Hmmmmm….” For a while, she merely looked at him, debating. “I suppose I may…have room in my<span style="font-style: italic">busy</span>schedule of work and take out to possibly squeeze in a trip to the movies…Possibly.” Lips turning into a genuine smile, she nodded. “So long as it’s not a corny movie, otherwise, I may be liable to heckle.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I think the whole heckle thing might be funny,” he said with a smirk. “We can just figure out what to watch when we get there,” he smiled. “I mean I have moved up to the first letter of your name, I may be able to earn the second come the end of the movie,” he grinned.</span><br/><br/>“Who knows? Could learn the second before the night’s end,” she replied with a grin of her own before pushing her dinner back, unable to finish. “Besides…you may think the heckling could be funny, but I doubt those around us would find it half as funny; Something about talking during movies doesn’t sit well with others…especially when I do my voice overs in the cliché moments…May not make it through to the end of the movie.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Then we can just continue the night with a walk through the park,” he said, a hand in the air to wave over the waitress.  <br/> <br/>“Done?” her voice cheery and upbeat.  <br/> <br/>“Yes. Could we have these boxed and bagged up, please?” the request given while he fished his wallet out from his back pocket.  <br/> <br/>“Oh, of course,” she smiled and removed their plates the check left on the table. <br/> <br/>He looked over the amount and removed his bank card to place atop the check, “Want to go somewhere for icecream?” he asked.</span><br/><br/>She had fished out her own wallet, ready to put the card down when he beat her to the punch. Part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the other part thought to just leave it be, instead turning her attention to the offer. “Ice cream? Is that going to help your girlish figure?” Chrys joked, smile clearly still on her lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to put your figure in jeopardy with some Pistachio and sprinkles.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I don’t really consider that junk food,” he said after the waitress returned with their boxes and took the check to be paid. “It is a delicious cold treat that can be enjoyed whenever no matter the weather or the temperature,” his card was returned and his wallet and he stood to put on his coat. “Besides,” he lifted his shirt just a bit so that she could see his stomach. “I think my figure is in ok for the moment,” he smirked. “I mean…unless you have some awesome plans now?”</span><br/><br/>Eyes widening as he lifted his shirt a touch, she felt off center for the first time that date. “…Yeah, I think you can…handle an ice cream or several.” Getting up from her own chair, she pulled her jacket on and shook her head. “Mmmno…no plans now, unless you mean catching the tail end of some show…so…I think ice cream would be fine. Which place did you have in mind?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “There is a small shop a couple of blocks from here,” he said, while he took up her bag to hand to her before he took his own. “Several, huh?” he teased then led the way out, with him of course opening the door for her. “Pistachio? Really?” he asked when they walked side by side. “That cannot be the flavor you think that I would choose when there are such things as Chocolate, strawberry, cookie dough, etc.”</span><br/><br/>His teasing was met with nothing more than another shake of her head, following after him before falling into natural sync next to him. “Yes, Pistachio. I mean, if you don’t want it, then there’s more for me,” she answered matter-of-factly, with a smile. “It’s perfectly sweet with just that touch of salt, like you’d get in a sundae. Then the sprinkles are just…a colorful touch. I happen to like that combo, thanks very much.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Then you can have all of that and I can enjoy all of the other flavors,” he gave her a playful bump. “Though I can give it another try…if maybe someone were to share with me the second letter of their name?”</span><br/><br/>Mulling it over, playfully bumping him back, she nodded. “Fine. If you give it another try…I’ll give you the second letter of my name. I think that’s a fair agreement.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> In answer all he did was smile, the rest of the walk was in silence though he did not feel the need to fill it. At the icecream shop he opened the door for her again, and joined her at the counter to order.  <br/> <br/>“One triple scoop of pistachio and then a triple scoop of chocolate chip, both with rainbow sprinkles,” again his card was produced to pay for the desert before he joined her at a booth. “Alright…” he extended his spoon, “Let’s try this pistachio…”</span><br/><br/>Walking in ahead of him, after the amiable silence that neither sought to fill (a permanent smile on her face that she sought to hide by keeping her eyes on the area next to her), she almost stopped him from ordering a triple scoop, not thinking she’d be able to finish it. Again, he paid and she didn’t say anything, squelching the urge to put her own card up because she wasn’t sure how he’d handle her need to pay for things.<br/><br/>Instead, she took her ice cream and headed for a booth, settling in as he did. “And you better not spit it out or…gag or something,” she cautioned with narrowed eyes, pushing her ice cream his way so that he could try a bit. “You’ll get the letter after I hear your verdict.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “After?” he asked while he took a spoonful and tasted it without awaiting the answer. As he allowed the icecream to melt on his tongue he looked thoughtful. The flavor was different with the sprinkles, a bit sweeter perhaps. Not bad, not his favorite but not bad either. <br/> <br/>“Not bad,” he said to her once he was done. “So, the letter?”</span><br/><br/>Watching him as he tasted it, taking a bite of her own, she waited for his verdict. “Not bad? That’s all you have to say is ‘not bad’? It’s perfect,” Chrystal replied, taking another bite of her own for emphasis and then feeling self-conscious that she’d taken a bite and had to chew through a nut; the sound, alone, sounded like gunshots to her and she prayed it wasn’t as loud on his end.<br/><br/>“‘H’,” she finally gave. “The second letter is ‘H’.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “ “C” and “H”,” he said aloud to himself. “I have no idea what that could possibly be,” he laughed. “I can’t even think about what that could be, but I suppose I can call you “CH” or something,” another laugh. “Want some of mine?” he offered.</span><br/><br/>“Sure,” she answered, stealing a bit with her spoon. “Hope you don’t mind my cooties,” she added as she took the bite, grinning at him as she suckled on a chocolate chip. “You know…if you guessed it, you might find it out faster. Otherwise…may have to wait until…gosh, even after our movie date next Saturday…You’ll forever know me as ‘Ch’.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Think I am up to date on my cootie shots,” he teased. “Hmm…a guess…” the spoon rested in his mouth while he thought about what her name could be. The “H” threw off what he had originally thought her name to be, so now he had to think about it. “Charlotte?”</span><br/><br/>Shaking her head, she took another bite of her ice cream. “Nope,” she answered simply. “Not sure I look much like a ‘Charlotte’, either…Try again?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Charlene?” he guessed again.</span><br/><br/>“Wrong again,” she replied, a smirk on her lips. “For someone who read me so well for occupation and general personality…you’re terrible with the name.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Hey…the “H” threw me off. I originally thought your name was something else, but with the “H” now, I have to try and think of other things…” he ate a bit more icecream. “Chanel?”</span><br/><br/>Her brow quirked, resisting the urge to bring up a racist comment about the name.<span style="font-style: italic">Don’t know him well enough for that,</span>she thought wryly, shaking her head again. “What’d you think it was originally?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Crystal…” he said with a shrug a few more spoonfulls while he thought about what could be her name. “Chantal?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He’d have guessed that the first time?</span>she thought, surprised though her exterior didn’t reflect it. If anything, she just remained silent, eating her own ice cream and waiting for his next guess. Only after he guessed “Chantal” and another racist thought came to mind. “I’ll take pity on you…It’s Chrystal. You’d have gotten it the first time…” she finally conceded. “What made you think of that one first?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Chrystal blue,” he said with shrug. “Your eyes are a Chrystal blue and well you just seemed like a Chrystal to me,” he said with another shrug. “Pity on me, really? I did not think I was doing that bad of a job with what I was given,” given with a mock tone of insult.</span><br/><br/>She rolled her eyes, and shook her head, stealing another bite of his ice cream while he was over there being “offended”. “What you were given? Not to break out the stereotypes again, but half of those names were of the not-so-Caucasian variety, Elijah,” she replied, with mock annoyance.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Hey, you never know what was person is now a days,” he returned the favor and took some of her icecream. “I mean come on everyone is marrying everyone else. So, you could have been any number of those names easily,” he said with some confidence though he did stick his tongue out at her.</span><br/><br/>Rolling her eyes again, she stole another bite out of spite. “Fine. Your new nameis ‘Jerome’,” she said with mock indignance. “Because ‘everyone is marrying everyone else; you could have been that name easily.’” The last, she tried her best to lower her voice and sound like him, though it definitely didn’t get deep enough.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Jerome, kind of suits me, no?” he said with a wink and stole more of her icecream. “So, Chrystal, what made you ask me for help that night? I don’t look completely harmless do I?” For all his worry and fear, the night had progressed to something of a relaxed atmosphere and he felt far more confident than he normally would.</span><br/><br/>She shielded her ice cream this time around, blocking him with her spoon before tsking. “You most certainly do,” came her reply. “Compared to other types, you looked less likely to throw me in a van and chop me up later…so I took a chance.” After a pause, she perked a brow and made for more of his ice cream again. “What made you decide to help me? Do I look all that harmless?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Though she had blocked him, he allowed her to have some of his icecream. “No, but I like to help people and well I did not want you wandering off to ask another person for help. Not in that neighborhood anyway, so for your safety and my conscience I helped you,” a smile given, followed by another attempt at her icecream.</span><br/><br/>“Ah yes…my safety…because I lack a penis,” she pointed out ruefully with a grin, this time allowing him a bite. “You know, for someone who claimed Pistachio with sprinkles was merely ‘not bad’, you seem to be eating a lot of it…” Pushing the bowl a little more his way, “You sure it’s not better than ‘not bad’?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Maybe,” he shrugged. “Besides, you said something about being post op? Or was it pre-op? So, you could have a penis…maybe….” He arched a brow while he looked her over. “Though I do hope that to not be the case,” he placed his bowl beside her own so that she could share from his while he snagged another spoon of icecream.</span><br/><br/>She put on a mock pout, sitting back in her chair in a slump. “So…you won’t want to hang out with me anymore because of my post-op status?! …This is terrible…whatever shall I do?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Oh no,” he said with a grin. “I would still hang out with you, but I would be a bit disheartened that we would end up only being friends…” he admitted with his grin that turned into a shy smile.</span><br/><br/>His smile turned shy, which was met with the smallest of blushes on her part, eyes dropping, though her smile didn’t falter. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I’m no-op, huh?” she commented to that quietly, taking a bite of her own this time. “So, guess we luck out there…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “That we are…” he said and fell silent for a bit while they continued to eat their icecream. When they both appeared to be done he stood, “May I walk you home, or am I not allowed to know where you live, yet?” the tone teasing and friendly.</span><br/><br/>Eventually, she stopped herself from eating, solely because she’d felt full prior to the ice cream, and now she’d fairly gorged herself.<span style="font-style: italic">The last thing I need to look like is a compulsive eater…</span>came a thought, settling back in her chair while nerves set in. Where he’d been the nervous one, now he was confident and she was the one in the self-christened hot seat as she considered the question.<br/><br/>Was he allowed to know? It wasn’t as though everything would remain a secret too much longer…he’d gotten her name, major, job. All that he needed now was address, and everything was solidified. “I don’t know…” she started to answer, voice thoughtful, with just a touch of playfulness to it. “If you know where I live, the last bit of mystery’s gone. What’s to keep you interested?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I still have to find your bookstore,” he volunteered easily. “Not to mention there is your smile,” he answered honestly. “That is something that could keep me interested for many nights to come,” his voice soft with just the smallest hint of a shy smile given.</span><br/><br/>Another smile was given, shyer than the first, as she nodded. “So long I don’t lose all your interest at once,” she answered. “…Then I suppose you could walk me home…shouldn’t hurt, right?” Her eyes reconnected with his, the confidence still there, though the shyness never fully dwindled. “It’s not too far out of your way, is it? To walk in my direction versus your apartment?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “No real way to know until we start walking,” he opened the door for her. “Besides, even so walking you home is not too much trouble at all,” he continued with a smile and somewhat excited skip in his step.  <br/> <br/>This was exciting, it was invigorating and he feared that it might be some dream where he woke up and she would be gone. None of this would have happened he would continue on his life of solitude as a civil servant. Nothing wrong with that, but he would like to have some company from time to time.</span><br/><br/>Another nod, and she tried to keep from overthinking, falling into step beside him and thinking a mantra of<span style="font-style: italic">”don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip”</span>. For a while, silence was fine, allowing her to get her bearings again, her confidence back. The surroundings were familiar enough, so she didn’t have to focus too much on where she was going, and instead stole glances to her side at Elijah.<br/><br/>“So…do you treat all girls like this?” Chrys asked with a bit of a grin. “Run them over, and charm yourself into their graces so you learn their name after helping them feed their habit of Thai and Pistachio?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Honestly,” he began after a moment of thought. “You were special, so you got the star treatment,” the smile more than enough to show that he was being playful. “This is superstar treatment from Mr. Maddox’s Dinner and Icecream, tour. I do hope you have enjoyed the evening and that the complimentary physical crash was not too jarring for your person?”</span><br/><br/>“The superstar treatment, huh?” she joked back. “So the superstar treatment included a realignment of my spine, and some slipping and sliding…I’m almost scared to ask what the standard package is…Though, now that you mention it…it was pretty jarring. I hope there’s no permanent damage…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “If such a thing a permanent damage has occurred then you will be compensated with another dinner of your choosing,” he continued with the joke. “Perhaps with the inclusion of icecream or some other kind of dessert, but that is all dependent on how much pain you actually are in,” he explained in a matter of fact tone.</span><br/><br/>“It’s so much pain, I’m not sure I can go on much longer…” she continued, a hand feeling at her forehead as her voice went quiet. “I just…I hurt so much…so much…and I’m not sure I’ll make it…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> Not a word was given, instead he merely scooped her up into his arms, and “There is also a chauffeur service.” The playful wink was given while he continued to walk without any show of strain or difficulty. “This is going to cost the company a huge and expensive dessert, huh?”</span><br/><br/>Her eyes widened as he scooped her up, but she didn’t fight it. Instead, she watched his face as…nonchalantly as possible, looking for something to show a strain…of which she found none. “Most definitely...Something along the lines of…Tiramisu…” A pause, as her brow lifted. “Directly from Italy. It’s a high order, but you’ll have to fill it if you don’t want a lawsuit…”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I don’t want that,” he said a smirk now almost permanently plastered on his face. “This is a new company and I can’t afford to pay out to a lawsuit,” the remark given as he continued to walk with her in his arms, despite the looks that he got from the various people who walked the streets.</span><br/><br/>The looks had her semi self-conscious, but not enough for her to ask him to put her down. If anything, the way his muscles moved beneath his coat as he held her was…appealing. Occasionally, she’d give a direction, noting the park, the lake, and that they were getting closer and closer to her abode, half wishing he’d slow his long strides down a touch. “Then you’ll have to make sure I’m kept thoroughly happy; Otherwise, you company will be over before it even got off the ground,” she admonished. “Whatever shall you do?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I guess we are going to have several dates just to make sure you are thoroughly happy,” he slipped in essentially taking a step forward in their relationship. “My evenings are free save for the nights that I go to help the homeless,” he volunteered and came to a stop outside her building. “Think you can make it up on your own? Or would you like for me to carry you?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Fast mover,</span>she thought as he brought up the several date aspect, rather than just working up from Saturday.<span style="font-style: italic">Slipping that in there all…smooth…</span>“I’m not sure I can…not up four flights of stairs…” Looking at him with her best puppy dog eyes, she pouted her lip. “Mind chauffeuring me to my door? I mean, that is part of what your business covers, isn’t it?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Hmm…I think we just added a clause about a door to door service,” he said and managed to open the door of the building. With her still cradled in his arms he began to ascend the stairs, “Four flights, huh? How many bedrooms?” the decision to make idle chit chat while he carried her.</span><br/><br/>“Always a good clause to have,” she replied to that, half-expecting him to put her down instead. But, since he was walking her up… “Two bedrooms, though the other is small and more of a makeshift closet or office hybrid. What’s your apartment like, setup-wise?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “A studio library?” he said with a chuckle. “Nah, it has one bedroom, a livingroom/office/library space and then you know a kitchen area and a bathroom,” he explained. “What size bed do you have? Not that I am overly interested but mostly just curious,” he tried to explain himself without seeming too eager or focused on the whole bedroom thing.</span><br/><br/>That earned him a look, a cross between amusement and surprise that he’d asked, his efforts not making him seem any less eager. “I have a California King; Not that I have much need for such a big bed, but I always wanted one, so…I got one. What about you? What’s going on in the bedroom? What size bed do you have?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> "Can only fit a full into there," he said. "Kind of jealous of your bed now," he laughed and made it to the last flight of stairs. "What’s the style of the place? Like are you a goodwill shopper or an Ikea enthusiast?"</span><br/><br/>“Yeah, I definitely don’t envy you with the full-sized bed…Big man in a little bed…” Having to hold in a laugh from the image she had, she instead answered his question. “I’m a ‘whatever people have donated to the cause’ person, mostly. Or, when I see freebies on Craigslist…I generally grab those up. When I do have to buy something, I’m more Goodwill, but it all has to match to some degree and look intentional.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “I barely fit on the thing and often feel like I am trapped in some kind of box or something,” he joked. “Ok…what’s the apartment number?” he asked while he stood in the hall.</span><br/><br/>“Guess it’s a good thing that, you know…we’re not that far into the relationship and don’t have to worry about…bed size, huh?” she teased, giving him a knowing look before looking down the hall. “Four-E,” Chrys added. “So only a few doors down on the right side.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> “Mhhmmm,” is all he said to the comment about the bed while he followed her directions to her apartment door. It was there that for the first time since they began this whole, carrying thing, he set her down. “Your apartment,” he gave a have bow and a flourished hand gesture to the door. “Will the lady be requiring anything else?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">He had no issue at all,</span>she mused as he set her down.<span style="font-style: italic">No issue carrying me in the slightest…</span>Her mind wandered over his muscles for a moment, almost missing his question. “The lady would be, yes,” came her reply, standing a little taller, being all lady-like. “The lady requires your phone for but a moment.”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> With a questioning look he produced his phone to her.</span><br/><br/>Taking it from him with a straight face, she pulled up the recently called, noting he’d not saved her number. So, she went about saving it for him, with her name, “Chrystal Jenkins.” Then, she took her own phone out, and sent it a message with her photo in it, a simple picture that she happened to like and set it as her contact picture. “There…now you’ve my name, and face tied to the mysterious number; Just in case you decide to forget my name or what I look like.” Handing it back with a smile, she shrugged. “Other than that, I don’t think I need anything else…Does the gentleman need anything?”<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> For a moment he looked at the newly added contact before he pocketed his phone once more and shook his head with a smile, “No. I believe that the lady has given the gentleman all that he needs….for now.” He gave another slight bow of his head, “Until Saturday, then?”</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">…God, he’s adorable with that…smile and the bowing…ugh…</span>she thought, inner monologue as excited as her exterior, though she downplayed it outwardly. “Until then…” Before he could move, she pressed a kiss into his cheek with a last smile, unlocked her door, peeking at him over her shoulder, and then slipped into her apartment.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"> To say he was walking on air would have been an understatement, to the point that by the time he got home he was not even sure how he made it there. Instead he just played over that last scene again and again in his mind. The way she felt as she leaned into him slightly, the cool caress of her lips on his cheek. It was all perfect in his mind and he could not have been happier.  <br/> <br/>That night he had no trouble finding sleep and could not wait for the coming weekend. Finally he had met someone….finally his life seemed to be working on this whole loneliness he had felt for some time.  <br/> <br/>Fate.  <br/> <br/>Everything happened for a reason.</span><br/><br/>After entering, she’d leaned against the door, much like she had the night before. Only this time, instead of dreading the thoughts…she spent time reliving their last moments, their night overall. The way his arms felt while they held her, his smile, the way his eyes lit up when he was excited, how he looked when he was shy.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I could find someone else…</span>she thought absentmindedly as she drifted off to bed, hardly noticing her steps carrying her to get ready, and then eventually to her bed, sprawling out. Then she thought of him being crammed into bed, and felt bad that she could sprawl out, but then thought she was doing it for him to live vicariously through.<br/><br/>And, that night, she slept soundly, dreaming of their future date. Saturday. Even if she wouldn’t outwardly say how excited she was…<br/><br/>…The very word “excited” didn’t really cover it.