He grinned, the expression a mixture of wary disbelief and hope, and did his best to stop his eyes from wandering all over her  body, but not quickly enough to hide his interest.<br/><br/>"Thirteen o'clock.  Think of it as the two hours in every day that belong to this wonderful little pocket of the universe.  While the clock's struck thirteen, there's no going home.  Or at least no going back to what they call the Dreaming City.  Me, I kind of like it in here."<br/><br/>When she relaxed, he relaxed as well and his smile stretched to a grin when she asked about action.<br/><br/>"Fights are no problem.  Hang around long enough and someone'll try to shove you around.  That's usually enough.  Me, I'm a medic.  We're not quite sacrosanct, but not even the heavy nightmares want to fuck up someone who can put them back together.  As for the other soft..."<br/><br/>He let out a sad little sigh, almost apologetic.<br/><br/>"I'd love to help, but I'm on duty.  More or less.  For a while, anyway.  But if you can find a little hole in the wall called The Duchess, I go there after my shift."  He patted the ambulance, which made a disturbingly aware noise.  "You want it?  My break's about done."<br/><br/>He held the paper out to her.<br/><br/>"I don't believe the headline, though."<br/><br/>