It didn't matter much if they did - there were plenty of tables and chairs situated just outside the coffee shop, in case dogs weren't allowed inside. From the looks of things, with a dog park so close by, it seemed they weren't the only ones with the same idea. Aaron hobbled along beside her, moving a little slower than he'd have liked, but mostly keeping up. This was only going to be a problem if he needed both hands.

It was a blessed relief that Solo was so well behaved. The big dog padded along comfortably at Tia's side as she headed for the counter, already pulling her purse out of her bag as she considered the menu thoughtfully. "What would you like?" she asked Aaron, tilting her head back to meet his eyes over her shoulder. "My treat. It's the least I can do for inflicting myself on you and your phone for the last three days."

"I thought we were just getting coffee," he said, looking a little confused. Not only that, but he didn't want to take advantage of her generosity. She was as unemployed as he was, but at least, he was receiving some compensation. "I didn't really mind, you know," he admitted, regarding the barrage of text messages back and forth.

Her lips curved in a reassuring smile. "Well, I'm upping the date to coffee and a snack," she informed him. "Trust me, okay' I can afford it." She reached back to pat his hand, and Solo took the hint, shuffling over to lean against Aaron's right leg just as reassuringly.

There were plenty of people who were kind to him these days, who tried to help him and reassure him, but for most of them, it was just their job. That wasn't the case with Tia. She didn't seem to want anything from him but his company, for some reason, that was a strange feeling. "You don't have to, Tia," he assured her, not wanting her to spend any money she didn't have.

"I'm going to, so stop arguing," she countered with a quiet giggle. The woman at the counter glanced between them curiously. "Don't mind him," Tia assured her, "I've been keeping him up too late at night, that's all. Um ....one cappuccino for me, and one of those cinnamon twisty things, please. And what Aaron here wants, which he is going to own up to, or I'm going to make him sit on my dog while we sup and wax full mightily on random conversational topics."

He frowned at her explanation, thinking the woman was likely to get the wrong idea. "I don't think your dog would like that too much," he remarked before turning to the woman behind the counter. "Cinnamon bun sounds good. With a cup of black coffee, please."

It wasn't as though Tia had lied, though. And besides, she'd have considered it quite a compliment to know that the woman automatically assumed that they were a couple. After all, Aaron was gorgeous and funny and obviously far too patient with the clinically babbling for his own good. She liked him.

Handing over payment, she tucked her purse away, moving to take the tray that was slid toward her over the counter. "Okay, Sandwich Man, pick your seat," she declared cheerfully. "Solo, heel to Aaron."

It was just as well she was carrying the tray as he hadn't yet mastered walking without a cane. "How about ..." He took a look around, noticing a slightly out of the way table toward the back. "Over there?" he asked, with the wave of a hand toward said table.

"Looks good to me - want me to forge ahead?" she offered, though she was already doing just that. She had noticed the cane, but he'd mentioned he was in rehab. She didn't see it as something to make a big deal over. Despite his instructions, Solo wandered over to the communal dog bowl to take a long drink as they headed to their table, confident he could find his human again when she'd stopped walking around.

"I'm right behind you," Aaron told her, waiting for her to lead the way before following behind. He was feeling more than a little useless, but he refused to feel sorry for himself. How could he when he was in the company of such a kind and gorgeous mystery as Tia"

Dropping easily down at the chosen table, Tia got herself comfortably settled, grunting a little as Solo insinuated himself under the table and wedged his head onto her knees. She snorted with laughter, scratching her old dog's head fondly. "So are you really local, Aaron, born and raised in 'Frisco, or did you move here from somewhere else?" she asked, straight in with the curious questions as she sipped her coffee.

He pulled out a chair and lowered himself into it - not too awkwardly - and set his cane aside to rest against the table near his side. "Frisco born and raised. What about you? What brings you all the way across the ocean and the country to California?"

She shrugged, shaking a hand through her hair with a resigned sort of smile. "Born and raised in a tiny village called Beaulieu, in Hampshire - that's in the south of England," she told him easily enough. "Mostly famous for a national park and the country's only National Motor Museum, but also home to a truly terrifying family of peacocks that have been systematically trying to kill me since I was three years old."

"And you left England to escape the peacocks?" he teased, knowing that most likely wasn't the case. He reached for his coffee and cinnamon roll, able to use both hands now that one of them was no longer wielding a cane.

Tia laughed, shaking her head. "If only that were the case," she sighed, tearing a piece off her roll as she spoke. "Those bloody birds chased me through miles of country park on every single school trip we ever took to the estate, and we went every year! And Solo ran away from them when they did it again two years ago! Big fearsome protector, my perky backside." She stroked her dog fondly as he wuffled against her lap, realizing she wasn't actually answering the question. "Sorry, I'm rambling," she apologized. "Like I said, it's been a crap year. Just got to the point where I couldn't be there anymore, you know" I needed to be far away and lose myself there for a while. Does that make any sense?"

"Bad breakup?" he guessed aloud before he could stop himself. He couldn't think of why any guy in their right mind would want to break up with her, but that was something that might have made her want to run away for awhile. It was only one possibility though. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "None of my business."

"You know, that would actually have been better," she confessed, her smile just a little bit brittle for a moment. "The whole reason for the running away ....it's not something I've talked about, really, not since I just upped and left. Actually, I haven't really talked about it since it happened. One of those life-changing events, you know" And this one really rammed it home that I don't actually have any friends who give a damn about me the person, they just wanted to be around me the heir. And I'm not even the actual heir!"

"Heir?" he echoed, one hand wrapped around his coffee cup, though he'd yet to take a sip. "As in inheritance?" he asked, brows arching upwards in curiosity. If she really was an heiress, what did she need a roommate for"

Tia winced, sighing softly. "This is why I need to learn how not to babble," she said ruefully. "My family is something like the 47th generation of land-owners in and around Beaulieu. Not titled or anything like that, but it's an accumulation of wealth sort of thing. So, yes, as in inheritance. Which ....which I inherited half of, about six months ago." She looked down into her coffee cup.

"Okay ..." he murmured, thoughtfully. He didn't want to pry or seem too nosy, but she'd told already told him that much. What could it hurt to tell him a little bit more" "You don't seem too happy about that." And then, something occurred to him, and he gentled his voice. "Did someone pass away?" he asked, knowing that was usually how inheritances came to be.

Perhaps oddly, she smiled at his turn of phrase, grateful that he was trying to be gentle with the question. "That's such a careful of putting it," she said quietly, raising her eyes to meet his even as her smile faded. "My family was driving back home from a New Year's Eve party. It was a good night, you know" But I'll always remember the headlights, and the noise. I didn't wake up until about three days later, and Bertrand - my brother - he was just sitting by my bed, completely gray. Because he thought I was going to die, too." She shook her head, forcing a small laugh. "I feel like I'm babbling about this. I could have just said yes, and left it there, couldn't I? I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dropping this on you. We only just really met."

"It's a goal to reach," she shrugged, impressed that he was aiming for it. "Besides, it's not a failure if you don't manage this one. It just means that you need a little more time to train. You'll get there, Sandwich Man. I have faith in you."

"Now you sound like my therapist, except for the Sandwich Man part," Aaron remarked with a chuckle. "She said that even if I only make it half a K, it's progress."

"So if you're in training, does that mean I have to be patient for my pizza, ice cream, and beer?" Tia asked curiously. Well, almost curiously. It was mostly teasing, and there was definitely a flirtatious glimmer in her eyes.

"No, I'm not training for the Olympics, Tia! I can have pizza and ice cream and beer in moderation," he replied with another chuckle. He noticed the teasing glimmer in her eyes, but he wasn't quite sure if she was flirting or not.

"Oh, so as long as you don't try to outdrink me, you should be fine," she teased impishly, flashing him a silly little grin. "Although I should warn you ....at Christmas, I drank nine pints in four hours and I was still standing and coherent."

"I'll consider myself warned," he replied, though he didn't really see her drinking him under the table any time soon. He finished off his cinnamon roll, wiping the stickiness of his fingers with a napkin, at a bit of a loss for words suddenly. Thankfully, she was the chatty one.

"Well, I say standing ....I had to take my heels off, and then the floor was weirdly sticky where we were, so I was actually sitting on the bar in a puddle of beer," she went on, proof positive that she really was incapable of not babbling when there was a gap to fill with words. "I ended up with a wet bottom, but my feet weren't sticky, so I consider that a happy ending."

"It sounds like an interesting evening," he said. "What do your family and friends think about you coming here and leaving them behind?" There must be people who love her and who missed her.

"I don't have any friends left," she shrugged, dismissing that comment a little too easily. It was obvious she'd had a lot of practice at saying that out loud recently - it was just a little bit too brittle, too lightly offered, not to still be hurting. "And my brother has his wife and their little girl, and the house and everything. He's going to be a little pissed off when he realizes I skipped the entire country, but he'll live. I just ....I need him to back off, and running away was the only way I could think of to make him do it."

Aaron furrowed his brows at her reply, wondering what she meant by all that. Something had obviously happened to make her run away, but what? Once again, he realized that the more answers she gave him, the more questions those answers posed. "Sorry. I don't want to pry," he told her, considering he'd only known her a few days, and their conversations up until now had been solely made up of text messages.

Tia tilted her head, her turn to reach over and touch his hand. "I know I said I babble, but ....you're not prying if I'm happy to give you the answers," she pointed out. "I could just as easily have changed the subject. I know it sounds weird, but I trust you. I like you. That's pretty bloody rare in my day to day, Sandwich Man."

"The trusting or the liking?" he asked, turning his hand so that his fingers linked with hers. They were two different things, after all. It was one thing to trust him, but he wasn't sure she really knew him well enough to like him yet.

"Both," she told him with a wry smile. Her eyes flickered down to where his fingers linked through hers, a shy flush pinking her cheeks. She hadn't felt this safe with someone since her parents' deaths; that wasn't something to be sneered at. "It doesn't mean you have to like me," she added quickly. "Or that you really even have to ever talk to me again. I probably come across as some kind of psychopathic serial escape artist with low self-esteem."

He smiled reassuringly at her assessment of herself. "Hardly. You're way too hard on yourself, though I have to admit I wasn't too sure about you at first, but you kind of grew on me. Maybe we just both needed a friend," he suggested with a small shrug.

"So ....since we're friends ....would it be awful of me to ask if you have any recommendations on where I should try to find a flat?" she asked hopefully. "Because I really do think I am going to brain my roommate with her own vibrator if I have to live with her for more than a week."

"How did you end up living with her in the first place?" he asked, moving to take another sip of his coffee before realizing the cup was empty. "How do you know each other?" he asked, momentarily glancing toward the counter and considering a refill.

"She's something like my fourth cousin three times removed," Tia admitted. "One of those long-standing offers to put me up if I ever came to America that she wasn't expecting me to ever take her up on, but good on her, she went through with it. And now she wants rid of me as fast as I want out of her flat." She laughed, following his glance to the counter. "Would you like another coffee" I'm considering one myself."

"I'm in no hurry, are you?" he asked, answering her question with a question. He had nowhere else he needed to be and was in no hurry to leave. Trying to carry two cups of coffee could prove a problem though. "I'm not sure if there are any vacancies in my building, but I can find out."

"I have nowhere else to be," she agreed, "and I am very much enjoying the company, even if you do have the patience of a saint for putting up with the constant stream of word soup spewing from my mouth." His offer surprised her, her expression opening up with genuine pleasure. "That would be really lovely of you, thank you. I take it your, um, building allows dogs?"

"I'm not sure, but I can find out," he repeated. "But if not, I'm sure we can find you something else." He didn't want to pry, but if he was going to help her find a place to live, he was going to have to know what she could afford.

"With you as my fearless leader, I'm sure we can, too," she agreed confidently. "Hold that thought, I'll grab us a refill." She rose from the table, taking their tray back over to the counter with her purse tucked under her arm. In her absence, Solo yawned and shuffled around, putting his head on Aaron's other foot this time.

Aaron watched her go, a thoughtful look on his face, before he was distracted by the weight of the dog's head shifting to that of his other foot. He took another peek under the table, shifting his foot just slightly beneath Solo's head, reluctant to bother him, since he was looking so comfortable.

The dog raised just his eyebrows to meet Aaron's peeking gaze, giving him the look all dogs have mastered by six weeks of age - the I'm lovable take me home look. He seemed to like his mistress' new friend, at any rate.

"Are you two playing nicely?" Tia asked as she returned, setting the two cups down on the table before sliding into her seat again.

"Yeah, I think he's just making himself comfortable again," Aaron replied as Tia rejoined him. "Does he does this to everyone?" he asked, turning back to Tia, secretly hoping his foot didn't fall asleep.

She giggled softly, shaking her head. "No, he's usually pretty stand-offish with new people," she told him. "I told you he likes you." She glanced under the table, rolling her eyes at the sleepy dog lounging there. "If he gets uncomfortable, just give him a shove. He won't take it personally. I've pushed him off the bed before, and all he does is get back on in a different position."

"DiCaprio's or your dad's?" he teased, though he didn't want to tease her about her father too much, knowing that the man had passed away recently and that she had to miss him.

"Both," she smiled impishly. "I don't think it affected Leo much, though. Honestly, you'd think he had no idea who I was!" Giggling, she took another sip of her coffee, feeling more relaxed as time went on.

"You and millions of other teenage girls," Aaron pointed out with a grin before finishing off his coffee. "So, do you want to check out the bookstore?" he asked, not wanting to overstay their welcome in the coffee shop.

She nodded, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "I would like that, yes," she agreed. "Although ....I don't have my CV on me. Will they want to see it, if they are looking for people to work there?"

"I think we can worry about that later," he said. There wasn't much point in worrying about it, unless they had a job opening, after all. He pushed away from the table, grateful Solo was no longer resting his head on either of his feet, and reached for the cane.

"All right." Leaning down, Tia hooked her bag over her shoulder, giving Solo a nudge as she wrapped his leash about her hand. "Come on, you big softy. Walking is good for your creaky joints." The big dog yawned and heaved himself onto his feet as she rose, sniffing curiously at the cane in Aaron's hand.

Aaron noticed the dog sniffing around at the cane and he paused a moment to let him check it out. "Don't get too used to it," he warned the dog. "I won't be using it much longer." At least, he hoped not.

Tia's smile softened gently. "I wouldn't draw attention to it," she warned him quietly. "Solo's cuddly is an old oak walking stick that belonged to my great-grandfather." Yes, her dog really was that weird.

"You didn't bring that with you all the way across the ocean, did you?" he asked curiously as he waited to follow her toward the door. He was able to navigate his way fairly well, despite the apparent injury, but he wasn't quite ready to run a marathon just yet.

"Yep," she told him with a bright grin, nudging Solo toward the door as soon as she realized Aaron was waiting for her to go first. The big dog loped easily along, not bothering to tug on his leash. He was pretty well behaved, given that his mistress didn't look as though she should be able to control him at all. "He never travels without it."

"Why is he so attached it?" Aaron asked further. He'd never heard of a dog becoming attached to a piece of wood, of all things. A favorite toy maybe, but why a walking stick"

"I have no idea," Tia admitted in a laughing tone, holding open the door so he could pass out of the coffee shop relatively easily before falling into step with him. "He hunted it out of the shoe cupboard when he was a puppy, and guarded it as though it was the most precious thing in the world for weeks. He still growls if it goes missing."

He murmured his thanks as he stepped outside, waiting for her to join him before leading the way presumably in the direction of the bookstore. "Maybe he senses something special about it," he suggested, though he wasn't really sure why the dog might have become attached to it. "Did you ever know your great-grandfather?"

"No." Tia laughed, dropping her hand to stroke the soft head that bumped against her leg as they walked. "I honestly have no idea why he likes it so much. Maybe it was the biggest stick he'd ever seen when he was a puppy, and he still has fond memories of finding it. Who knows?"

"But it's a little too big for a throwing stick," Aaron pointed out, assuming that must be true if it was a stick made for walking, not too unlike a cane.

"It's huge," she agreed cheerfully. "Seriously, it's like troll's club made out of oak, and these days, it's covered in tooth marks. But it keeps him happy, and that's the main thing. So even if my dog is weird, he's a happy weirdo!" She grinned down at the mastiff trotting along at her side. "With terrible arthritis and appalling halitosis."

He frowned a little as he realized just how attached she was to a dog that wasn't getting any younger, but he didn't want to worry her by pointing it out. "It's not that weird," he said, though he didn't really know for sure.

"Oh, it is," she laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. "Why the frown" Did I say something wrong?" Her smile evaporated as she considered that she might have offended him inadvertently. "I didn't mean to say anything offensive, I promise. Did I say something rude" Is it rude to refer to someone as a happy weirdo?"

"No," he replied, still frowning, though he was trying hard not to. "I never had a dog. Not even as a kid," he said, changing the subject just enough to hopefully divert her from what had really caused him to frown.

"I didn't have any animals as a dog." She shook her head, blinked, and laughed as she realized what she'd said. "No dogs as a kid, I meant to say!" Aware of how ridiculous that absent-minded comment had sounded, she laid her hand on his arm as she cackled, having to pause just in case she tripped herself over with her own giggles. "Oh, good grief ....my brain doesn't do that usually!"

He paused his walk, chuckling along with her, all too aware of the hand she'd laid against his arm, like they were old friends, though they had just met. "Do you ever feel like you've known someone forever, even though you just met?" he asked, knowing she'd probably assume he was referring to her.

Still smiling at her silly mistake, she shook her head. "Only once," she told him, thinking it might be a bit forward to mention that once was with him. "I can't say it's an unwelcome feeling, though. Oh, sorry." She glanced down at the hand on his arm, removing it with a flicker of shyness in her eyes.

"Me, too," he admitted. "Just once." He frowned a little as she removed her hand from his arm, but said nothing about it. There were a dozen questions he wanted to ask her, but he thought it better to keep most of them to himself for now, until he knew her better. Instead, he turned to continue on their way.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to touch you without your permission," she apologized, falling into step with him again. "I know some people aren't comfortable with being touched, and I should remember that. Just because I like being touched and hugged doesn't mean that everyone else does."

"I don't mind you touching me, Tia," he reassured her gently. He wouldn't have even minded if she'd taken his hand, but he wasn't quite bold enough to do it himself.

"That's ....good to know." And for someone who didn't seem to know when to stop talking, she had the good sense to leave it at that, offering him a warm smile as Solo nudged her closer to him to avoid something in his path.

He couldn't read minds and so he didn't quite know what was going on in her head, but he liked her a lot and he was enjoying her company. He didn't dare hope for more than that just yet, not until she knew him a little better. He suddenly came to a halt, not too far from their destination. "Tia, there's something I have to tell you."

Her smile became a little resigned as they came to a halt. "You've got a girlfriend, haven't you?" she guessed, disappointed but not so much that she'd give up on being his friend. "Or a boyfriend. I'm sorry, I'll stop flirting. I shouldn't have assumed."

"Women here tend to be pretty outspoken. The only difference between them and you is that you have an adorable accent," he told her, with a teasing gleam in his eyes. "So, how come no boyfriend?" he asked, curiously, though it might be none of his business.

She snorted with laughter. "Well, most people can't stand the amount that I talk for more than a day," she told hin honestly. "I think in England I just attracted the arseholes. They never really listened, they just stared at my tits and tried to stick their hands up by skirt. I had a boyfriend for about a year, a long while back, but Solo couldn't stand him. I found out after we broke up that he'd been stealing from me. I sort of swore off men for a while after that, but I'm glad I met you. You're lovely."

That was a lot of words for him to take in all at once, but he couldn't help but chuckle a little at her assessment of him. "Lovely?" he echoed. "That word is usually only used in reference to women here," he told her. He couldn't remember ever having been described that way before. Cute, hot, maybe even handsome, but never lovely.

"Oh, um ..." She thought for a moment. "Deliciously masculine, ruggedly manly, and all round gorgeous, with a side-helping of scrummy gentleman?" She batted her lashes at him, lips parting in a grin that was just this side of genuinely innocent.

That made him laugh, but there was a hint of worry in his expression. "You forgot the part about missing a leg," he reminded her, though she'd given him no indication that she cared much about that or found him less attractive because of it. Then again, she hadn't seen it yet either.

"Oh, you're right, I did," she agreed, tapping a finger teasingly against her lips for a moment. "Got it. Deliciously masculine, ruggedly manly, all round gorgeous, and heart-breakingly brave, with a side order of scrummy gentleman. There."

He chuckled again, deciding it was probably better to just let it go. "Oh, yeah, that's much better," he said, reaching for her hand again. "Come on, Chatty Cathy, I have an idea."

"You have, and I am eagerly awaiting finding out what it is," she agreed again, clicking her tongue to Solo as her hand slipped into Aaron's grasp once more. "I will need to feed the dog at some point, though. He gets cranky if his dinner's late."

"What do you usually feed him?" Aaron asked, as he led the way away from the bookstore and back toward his car, though he hadn't told her that was where they were headed.

"Cooked mince," she shrugged. "The dog foods available all have too much cereal in them, so Solo here gets lean beef or lamb mince every day. Lucky sod. There have been times when he's eaten better than me."

"I think there are some dog foods that are better for them," Aaron remarked, though he only knew from what he'd seen on TV commercials. "So, do you want to stop at your cousin's?" he asked. "I was thinking maybe we could go back to my place and order out. I don't know many pizzerias where dogs are welcome."

"I'd like to stop there briefly," she admitted a little awkwardly. "He has medicine as well. But the mince is cooked - I could just grab the bag and his meds and a bowl, if you don't mind him eating in your kitchen." She blinked, realizing she'd made an assumption. "That is, if you're driving. Otherwise you might have to write down your address for me so I can find it."

"I'm driving," he confirmed, wondering if he dared go one step further, but for now, he decided to wait. "I hope Solo doesn't mind car rides," he added, though it was pretty common to see a dog in the passenger seat with his head stuck out the window.

"He loves cars," Tia admitted with a faint laugh. "Are you sure you don't mind him being in your car, though' Some people get in an awful funk about him drooling when he's happy, and he likes you, so he'll be happy about being in your car."

"I think I can deal with a little doggy drool," Aaron replied with another chuckle. After all, dog drool was nothing compared with some of the other difficulties he dealt with on a daily basis. "Here we are," he said, coming to a halt a few feet from a navy blue SUV, which looked plenty spacious enough for two people and a dog.

"I'll put my bag under his head," she promised, knowing perfectly well that her dog was more than capable of producing a large puddle of drool when he was content with the world, and that he'd be able to smell the mince as soon as she collected it.

"Should we get him a drool bag?" he asked, mostly in jest, from the look on his face. He let go of her hand so he could get his car keys out of his pants pocket, unlocking the doors with the touch of a button.

"To be honest, he could probably do with one," she laughed softly, pulling her keys out of her bag to tuck them into her pocket before opening up the back door. "All right, Solo, up!" The big dog jumped up onto the back seat arthritically, turning himself around until he was comfortable. She got her bag under his head just as he settled down, grinning in triumph.

"Tia, he's gonna drool all over your bag," Aaron pointed out with a small frown. "I think there might be some rags in the back," he added, thinking that might serve her purpose better than ruining her bag.

"I'm used to having drool on my bag," she assured him with a smile. "Everything I own is washable, trust me. Besides, I'll grab his blanket from the flat when I nip in for his food, so I can have my bag back in a little while."

"Okay," he replied agreeably, leaving her to it. He waited until both she and the dog were settled before climbing into the driver's seat, reaching behind him to lay his cane to rest well within reach of both him and the dog. "Where's home?" he asked, as he buckled his seatbelt.

Tia bit her lips, glancing into the back seat to see Solo reach out a paw and gather the cane close against his floppy cheek as he settled down again. Grinning, she turned her eyes back to Aaron. "I promise I'll replace it if he damages it," she assured him warmly. "Oh, and I live at ..."

Aaron glanced back to find Solo snuggling with his cane and he chuckled. "I'm not worried," he assured her, considering he wasn't going to need it forever - or so he hoped. He nodded at her directions and started off in that direction. It wasn't too far from the park, after all, since she'd walked there.

The place she directed him to was actually a three storey house that had been converted into two apartments. And as they pulled up, her cousin was standing on the front steps in nothing but her underwear, engaged in an enthusiastic shouting match with a man who looked like he was constructed entirely out of knees and chins. Tia hesitated.

"O-kay," she said slowly. "Solo, stay." The dog, who had lifted his head to see what the noise was about, growled quietly. "No, stay." He wuffled reluctantly, hoisting himself up to glare at the noisy pair on the steps. Tia looked over at Aaron. "I, um ....I'll be as quick as I can."

Fortunately, Aaron was right behind Tia, looming over her shoulder to glare right back at the man. "It's her stuff, and we're leaving, so get the hell out of the way," he warned the other man, in a tone of voice that left little room for argument.

"And what are you, her bodyguard?" the man snarled back at him, ignoring the hand Fran put on his arm.

"Jojo, leave it, she's just my English cousin ..."

"No, Franny, the boy's got something to say, he should say it," Jojo declared, pushing Tia out of the way.

A loud bark from Aaron's car declared that Solo was not happy about that.

Aaron arched a brow at the implied insult. He was hardly a boy and more man than "Jojo" would ever be, but he saw no point in repaying the insult. It was when the man physically pushed Tia out of the way that his expression changed from mildly irritated to outright angry. He didn't even bother to warn him again, instead tossing a fist into his jaw with lightning speed and accuracy.

It was a good punch. Fran's ex had obviously not been expecting it, stupidly lowering his head into the blow in a way that only resulted in his being knocked backward in a daze.

As her cousin shrieked and bent to help him, Tia hurriedly reached out to take Aaron's hand. "We're leaving now," she said firmly.

"Tell him to stay down," he warned her cousin regarding her boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or whatever he was. He'd never understand how people got themselves into such destructive relationships, believing it to be love. He didn't bother to waste another moment on the couple, as Tia tugged him toward the car.

"You didn't have to hit him!" Fran yelled after them. "And you owe me 200 bucks, Christina!"

Tia paused, turning to glare back at her cousin. "Christiana, and I owe you about fifty dollars, which is on the counter," she snapped back. "Put some clothes on and find where you left your dignity!"

As Fran's jaw dropped, the angry little English woman opened the back door of the car, one hand on her dog's nose to keep him inside as she dropped the bag she was carrying onto the floor in front of him.

Aaron didn't even bother to acknowledge Tia's cousin with a reply. All he wanted to do was get her out of there as soon as possible. He hobbled around to the back of the vehicle, opened the door, and dropped her bag inside, before making his way back to the driver's seat.

"Solo, sit." Despite the dog's energetic barking, the tone of Tia's voice was enough to get through to him, making him plant his rear back on the seat even as he growled at the couple on the steps. Tia hurried around to the passenger side front, sliding into the seat. She wasn't sure she trusted Fran not to call the police on them.

Calling the police would have been a bad idea, but the couple had no way of knowing that yet. As it was, Aaron locked the doors as soon as he and Tia were safely inside, wasting no time in starting the car up and pulling away. "Sorry, but he had it coming," he told her, making a half-hearted apology as they drove off.

"No, I'm sorry," she rushed to apologize over the top of his apology. "I should have just kept going. I'm awfully sorry. You didn't hurt your ....is your hand all right?"

"I know how to throw a punch. I'm fine," he assure her, though he couldn't say the same about Jojo. He'd reined in his punch somewhat though. All the man was likely to suffer was a bruised jaw, along with a bruised ego.

A large slobbery head inched itself over his shoulder - Solo, offering male solidarity in the protection of their shared female. Tia rolled her eyes at the big dog's affection, giving him a gently shove. "Down," she ordered fondly, and the canine stretched out on the back seat once again. "I'm sorry about him. He's obviously decided you're a friend."

Aaron chuckled, glad at least the dog hadn't decided to give him a big slobbery kiss. "Maybe we should have let him loose on Jojo," he remarked with a smirk, though that had been hardly necessary. "No regrets?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't blame him later for taking her out of there.

"Well, unless you suddenly put on a Yoda mask and ask me how I like my feet kissed, then no," she assured him with a warm smile. "Thank you, Aaron. I do appreciate this. And I will try to make sure you don't regret it."

He shrugged, as if it was nothing. In fact, he welcomed her company and that of Solo's, but he wasn't so sure she'd find his company as pleasant after a few days of living with him. On the other hand, it was probably only temporary, and it was better than living with someone who was clearly taking advantage and not caring for her own safety, much less Tia's. "It's not a big deal. And you don't owe me a thing."

"I'll pull my weight," she insisted fervently. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me, so there." She flashed him a wide grin. "Just as well I didn't give that store owner my address, isn't it' Goodness, can you imagine what she'd do with any mail that got sent to me there" I'm fairly sure she can read, but I wouldn't put money on it."

"It's against the law to tamper with other people's mail, Tia," he assured her, though that hardly stopped anyone who received the wrong mail by mistake. "I don't know what your cousin sees in that guy," he said, circling back to the subject of "Jojo".

"To be honest, that's the first time I ever met him," she admitted with a shrug. "I knew he dumped her - she spent hours yesterday telling me all about it - so I assumed her various hook ups were her way of getting over him. But if she's still invested enough to stand virtually naked in the street and yell at him, then I have to seriously consider whether or not she's a little touched in the head."

"People have to sort out their own problems, I suppose," he remarked, just as the two of them did. "I hope you don't have any psycho exes," he added, though it hardly mattered if she did. He'd faced far greater dangers in his life.

She snorted with laughter. "Hardly," she assured him. "The only person who might be considered in that vein is called Rupert Harvey, and he's operating under the impression that I died about five years ago." She paused, realizing this sounded a little psycho in and of itself. "That was my last resort," she added. "He was so determined to get himself a rich wife, he decided little things like restraining orders didn't apply to him. My funeral was lovely, though."

He wasn't the type that was easily shocked, but from the look on his face, he was obviously not expecting that. "You're kidding me, right?" he asked, as he glanced her way briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead of him. He didn't bother to explain which part of her statement had shocked him the most though.

"I wish I was?" she offered a little uncertainly. At least he couldn't accuse her of hiding all her darkest secrets - she was certainly spilling them out at the least encouragement. Thinking before speaking seemed to be her biggest weakness at this point; the fact that she didn't seem to do it.

On the contrary, he found her honesty refreshing, so long as she was careful she who she was honest with. "A bit extreme, but that's one way to get rid of an ex, I guess!" he said, with a chuckle. "Does everyone there think you're dead then?"

"There's such a thing as being too stubborn, I suppose," he admitted, though it was in part his won stubborn tendencies that had seen him through his injury and helped him to survive. He quieted a moment as he realized he'd called her an orphan, which, in fact, she was, but he hadn't meant anything by it. He led the way up the stairs to the door and inside. Thankfully, his apartment was on the first floor, as stairs were one of his biggest challenges.

She hadn't actually noticed the word, but even if she had, it was doubtful she would have taken offense. It had been six months since the car accident - she'd finally gotten used to not having her parents on the other end of the line to talk to whenever she felt like it. "I personally think being a little bit stubborn is a good thing," she went on, happy to fill the silence as she followed him toward his apartment. "Or persistence, maybe. After all, if I wasn't persistent, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"

"Maybe, but I'm the one you texted you back, remember?" he asked, regarding the middle-of-the night text he'd made when he couldn't sleep. If not for that, she may not have persisted. He led the way down the hall to a door with the number "11" on the front and unlocking the door.

"I would have thought of a reason to text you the next day," she assured him with a faint smile, hefting the bag on her shoulder once again. At her hip, Solo wuffled curiously at the door, limping just a little as they followed Aaron inside. "Oh, monster, is it hurting" I'm sorry, baby, I'll give you your meds and it'll feel all better soon."

"Looks like you're stuck with a couple of cripples," he remarked, with a glance to the dog, sympathizing with his pain. He didn't usually refer to himself in a such a way, as he managed to get around pretty well, all things considered, but in a way, that's just what he was.

"Nobody here is a cripple," she told him firmly, a frown on her face. "I don't want to hear you call yourself that again. If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't know, and that's the way it should be. So don't you dare, Sandwich Man."

"Is that an order?" he teased, as he followed her into the apartment and set her bag down before closing the door behind him. By the looks of things, the apartment wasn't very spacious or luxurious, but it was clean and comfortable enough for one and maybe even two. "Make yourself at home."

"Yes, I rather think it is," she giggled softly, looking around with a faint smile. It was a nice space, certainly far better than the tiny room she had been sleeping in for the last two nights. "Do you mind if I feed Solo' He'll only need to go out for a few minutes in a couple of hours to do his business, and that hip of his looks painful."

"No, of course not," he replied. He'd already told her to make herself at home and didn't feel that needed repeating. Now that they were there, he was feeling a little bit awkward, but hopefully, the feeling wouldn't last. "Oh! Uh ....Let me find the pizza menu!"

"Okay!" She raised a playful grin at his sudden motion, setting down her bag to pull the big bag of cooked mince and a couple of metal bowls out, as well as a smaller wash bag that doubtless contained Solo's medication. "C'mon, Solo, dinner!"

While she was busy getting the dog's dinner ready, he went about locating the pizzeria menu, which he'd shoved in a drawer in his desk somewhere. "What do you like on your pizza?" he called from the next room.

"I like everything except anchovies," she called back from the kitchen, crouched on the floor to help Solo take his medicine before he was allowed to gulp down his dinner. "Good boy, such a good boy, Solo! Well done! Now you can eat."

Most people preferred cheese and pepperoni, but Aaron wasn't most people. Still, he wasn't sure what she preferred and didn't want to order something she might not like. "How about spinach and peppers?" he inquired, taking a lean against his desk as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"I trust you!" she promised with an audible smile, pausing to make room in the fridge for the rest of the cooked mince. Washing her hands, she patted Solo's back gently, moving to seek out Aaron wherever he might be.

"Do you like mushrooms?" he called back, still debating, not realizing she was about to join him. The apartment was sparsely furnished and decorated, but comfortable enough. The only real clues about the man were a collection of books and music, as well as some family photos, all scattered about the living area on shelves and tables.

"I do like mushrooms," she agreed in a more normal tone, stepping into view with a faint smile. "Honestly, I will happily eat just about anything once. I even ate alligator once." Seeing he was on the phone, she closed her mouth, drawn toward the books and music he had collected.

He arched his brows at her statement, but was too busy placing their order to remark on it yet. In the end, he decided on cheese, mushrooms, and spinach, foregoing the usual sausage and pepperoni in favor of veggies. Once that was done, he ended the call and returned the phone to his pocket before turning to see where she'd gone. His books and music were both eclectic collections - the books mostly made up of history books and sci-fi novels, while he music was mostly a mix of classic and contemporary rock.

When he turned to find her, she was focused on his books, running one long finger along the spines with delicate care as she browsed through the things he obviously had an interest in. She glanced up as his voice fell silent, offering him a warm smile. "Have you ever read War of the Worlds, by Wells?"

"I have, actually. Have you?" he asked, arching a brow at her question. Was it too much to hope that they were like-minded in their reading tastes" Here she was living with him, and he didn't even know her favorite color, but then, wasn't learning about each other half the fun"

"I have," she nodded in agreement. "I quite enjoyed it, although Wells' style is a little pompous for my liking, but I did have the advantage of being able to visit Portsmouth and actually see the ship that Thunderchild is based on."

"Really?" he asked, interest piqued. "I've never been to England," he admitted, though he'd obviously been other places, mostly due to his time in the military.

"Oh, Warrior is beautiful," Tia told him enthusiastically. "The first of her kind built in Britain, she's fitted for steam and sail. And, of course, in the same place is HMS Victory, which is probably the most famous wooden walled ship in the world ....and as I say that, I realize you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Um ....you might have heard of the Mary Rose? What's left of her is in Portsmouth, too."

Having served in the Navy, he was obviously interested in ships, though he had been part of Special Forces and not a sailor. "Maybe we should visit the naval park," he suggested. "There are a few historical ships on display there you might be interested in seeing."

"Oh, I love ships," she confessed happily. "Especially wooden sailing ships, although having an engine is a big help if you have a small crew. My father used to race at the Cows regatta when I was a teenager - he lost me overboard once, threw Bertrand in to save me, and left us both there so he could beat his recorded time." She laughed at the memory. "The coastguard picked us up about an hour later."

"I guess it's a good thing you could swim!" he said, chuckling a little, even though that was something he thought was appalling. "My Dad was in the Navy, so I've always been interested in ships," he explained.

While some men might jump at such an opportunity, Aaron frowned worriedly, but not because he wasn't attracted to Tia so much as the fact that he was worried he might disrupt her sleep. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," he murmured. Then again, if things kept going the way they were going, it was possible they might end up in bed together anyway, and that brought another whole set of problems and worries to mind.

Her brow rose as she held his gaze. "What it comes down to is this, Aaron," she said firmly. "You are going incredibly far out of your way to make sure I'm all right. You are too tall to get comfortable on your couch; I'm not. So I'm going to insist that you sleep in your own bed, and if you're going to try and insist that I sleep in your bed, it had better be alongside you, or I will get very annoying."

"Yes, but ..." He started, breaking off as he realized it was probably futile to argue with her. "You're not going to budge on this, are you?" he asked, though he already knew the answer to his own question.

"Nope." And she knew she'd won, too, whether she slept in the bed or on the couch, accepting her win with a gracious smile and a kiss to his frowning lips. "You shouldn't take things quite so seriously all the time, you know," she suggested. "You might win an argument with me if you didn't - I'm very easy to distract."

"Mmm," he murmured, kissing her again, almost as if he was temporarily lost in her spell. "There wouldn't be much point in seducing you, if I was going to sleep on the couch," he pointed out.

"Oh, is that what this is?" she asked with a smile, letting the bag thump from her shoulder to the floor as her fingers played their way up over his arms. "Should I assume the position, or act the innocent?"

"I doubt either of us is innocent," he said, circling one arm around her waist, while his other hand held onto the cane, though he hardly needed it at the moment. He dared to touch another kiss to her lips, allowing them to cross the boundary from acquaintances to possible lovers, if she so desired.

"Isn't that nice to know?" Tia giggled, the sound muffled in the kiss he touched to her lips, only too happy to let that kiss deepen naturally as the wrap of his arm encouraged the arch of her spine, pressing her closer into him.

And who knows how far they might have gone, if they hadn't been interrupted by the buzz of the doorbell announcing that their pizza had arrived.

Solo raised his head with a lazy bark in answer to the buzz, the sound making Tia laugh as she broke from the kiss. "I suppose that means our dinner is here," she said with a smile. "Am I going to the door, or are you?"

He pulled away from her with a reluctant frown, even as she smiled up at him. "I'll get it," he told her, though it might prove difficult juggling a pizza in one hand and a cane in the other.

He wouldn't have to do it for long, to be fair. She wasn't far behind him as he headed for the door, bending to hug her big dog fondly as he looked up at their passage.

He traded a few bills for the pizza, along with a tip, thankful the delivery boy knew him and knew of his difficulty. Though it was clear enough to see the cane in his hand, there were some people who seemed oblivious to such things, even to the point of being rude.

Tia was there to take the box out of his hand before it became a struggle to juggle with it, flashing the delivery boy a wide smile just to see him blush in surprise at finding an unexpected girl. She slipped back to the couch, setting the pizza on the coffee table, and disappeared into the kitchen, investigating the fridge for those elusive beers Aaron had mentioned.

Once he was finished paying and chit chatting with the delivery boy, the door was closed and locked, Aaron turned to find Tia in the kitchen and the pizza on the coffee table. "There are plates in the cupboard!" he called, though that probably went without saying.

"There are quite a few cupboards, you know," she called back with a laugh, the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing following her remark to prove she was plate hunting at his suggestion.

"I'll be right there!" he called again, as he made his way toward the kitchen, pausing a moment to eye Solo. "Stay, Solo," he told the dog, hoping he wouldn't go after the pizza as soon as they were both out of sight.

The big dog gave him the most innocent look a dog can manage, and curled up on his bed, eyeing the pizza box covetously. Tia glanced over as Aaron came into view. She'd found the cupboard with the plates in it, but since he had almost a foot on her, it was something of a struggle to get them down.

"Does he like pizza?" Aaron asked as he joined Tia in the kitchen, easily reaching into the cupboard for the plates. Though Solo had already had his supper, he wasn't sure if the pizza box they'd left on the coffee table would tempt the dog or not.

"He likes cheese," she shrugged, stepping back to let him do the reaching. "He knows better than to go for human food, though. Besides, he just ate - he'll probably watch us eating it while he falls asleep, and dream happy doggie dreams about eating a pizza that's just for him."

"Should we give him a slice?" Aaron asked, unsure if pizza would upset the dog's digestive system. He didn't mind giving up a slice to make the dog happy, so long as it wouldn't make him sick.

She laughed, shaking her head. "No ....if he gets one slice, he'll want the whole thing, and it's very hard to fight off a determined Solo," she told him in amusement. "He'll be fine, I promise."

"If you say so. He's your dog," Aaron replied without argument, setting the plates on the counter for a moment so he could grab some napkins. "I've got the plates. You have the beers?"

"I have the beers." She held up both hands, one bottle in each, and offered him a triumphant little grin. "Fear me, I have successfully navigated your fridge without injury or disaster. I am unstoppable!"

"Do you want a medal?" he asked with a chuckle before starting back toward the living room, plates in one hand, piled with napkins, cane in the other.

She giggled as she followed him. "Oh, I think a feat such as this requires, at the very least, some kind of diploma, don't you?" she teased in answer. "Something edged in gold I can frame and hang on the fridge so I'm reminded of it every time I do it again."

"Remind me to make you one later," he teased in return, though it was unlikely. He led the way back into the living room, easing himself onto the couch before setting the plates and napkins down beside the pizza box.

Tia was still giggling as she slipped down onto the couch cushions beside him, setting the beers down before bending double to undo her sneakers and pull them off, revealing that she'd actually been boosted in height by at least one and half inches. She was, in fact, even smaller than she first appeared. "Are you good with arts and crafts, then?"

"I wonder just who is seducing who," he murmured back, glad she wasn't going to hold something he'd done or some girl he'd crushed on when he was sixteen against him. He leaned in just a little, as if he was about to kiss her lips, when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

Close enough to taste his breath on her lips, Tia felt herself grin as his pants vibrated. "That'll be her," she teased softly. "She's finally realized what she threw away all those years ago and desperately wants you back."

"She has pretty bad timing," Aaron teased back, pulling away so that he could dig the phone out of his pocket and see who it was that was calling. He frowned as he recognized the caller and tapped the phone to answer the call. "Hi, Mom. What's up?" he asked, silently mouthing the word "Sorry" to Tia.

Tia shook her head gently with a smile. It wasn't a problem that he wanted to talk to his own mother, after all. She touched his knee as she rose, indicating that she was going to get another drink from the kitchen without a word, not wanting to interrupt.

The call became mostly small talk, during which Aaron answered with mostly bursts of answers. "Yes, Mom." "I'm fine, Mom." "Don't worry so much, Mom." This went on for about ten minutes, during which time he looked worried toward the kitchen to make sure Tia wasn't angry about the interruption. At last, he said something different. "Sunday' Uh ....Can you hang on a second?"

It must have been something inherently English, this urge to leave the room so he could have privacy for his phone call. Whatever the reason, Tia amused herself by finishing the washing up and wiping down the counters in the kitchen before pulling a couple of beers out of the fridge and returning to the living room, raising her brows curiously at the look on Aaron's face.

He covered his phone a moment so that his mother wouldn't hear what he and Tia were saying. "She wants me to come to dinner Sunday," he whispered. "Would you like to come along?" This wasn't a particularly unusual occurrence as he was pretty close to his family, though he hadn't talked about them much.

A slow, almost disbelieving smile crossed her face, surprised and pleased that he would extend the invitation to her after knowing her barely a day. "I'd love to," she told him softly. "Thank you."

He smiled in relief, not because he was concerned about going to dinner alone, but because it would have been awkward to leave her behind. "Back, sorry," he apologized into the phone. "Is it okay if I bring someone along?" There was a short pause while his mother presumably replied, and he turned his head away from Tia and lowered his voice, though she could hear his every word. "A friend. Yes, a girl. No, I mean, a woman." Another pause. "I'm not going to explain on the phone, Mom."

Biting down on her smile, Tia opened her fresh beer, taking a slow sip as she leaned back on the couch. Solo was snoring by this point, dreaming his happy doggie dreams on his bed by the wall, completely at home in this new place purely because she was comfortable here.

"You can ask her yourself when you meet her on Sunday. Yes, Mom. I'll be fine. Try not to worry. I'll see you Sunday, okay' Love you, too. Say hi to Dad. Bye," he said, exhaling a sigh of relief as he hung up the phone. "Sorry about that. She worries about me."

She smiled at him in her warm way. "I think it's rather sweet that she calls to make sure you're all right," she assured him. "My parents used to do that with me all the time. I don't think my father ever really trusted me to be behaving like a responsible adult after the goose incident - he never let me live it down, anyway."

"She never lets me forget the fact that I'm the baby of the family," he said, rolling his eyes a little at that. He frowned when she mentioned her own parents, though, feeling a little guilty that he still had his. "You were pretty close to them then?" he asked as he reached for a second beer, hoping she didn't mind the question.

She nodded, glancing down at the bottle in her hand. "I miss them every day," she admitted softly. "You're lucky to still have yours. I envy you." She forced a small laugh, swallowing the sound in a gulp of beer.

"Sorry," he apologized again, though it wasn't his fault. He leaned toward her to brush a kiss against her temple, offering what little comfort he could. "My Mom's gonna love you anyway. She's been pestering me to find a girlfriend for ages."

"So ....she's going to love me purely for being female and attracted to you?" Tia asked with innocent teasing, only too pleased to be able to distract herself from her moment of grief. It would be a long time before she'd be able to reflect on her loss without upsetting herself, after all.

"Probably," he replied with a chuckle, glad she was smiling again, despite good reason to be sad. "I haven't had a girlfriend since college," he admitted. Yes, he'd used the word girlfriend in reference to Tia, even though they hadn't really discussed that.

"If I solemnly swear not to cover your apartment with my underwear in various states of dryness, will that make you feel better about having one now?" she asked sweetly. It didn't seem as though she minded being called his girlfriend.

"What makes you think I'd mind that?" he asked, teasing her back in return. He didn't deny that her the title if she wanted it, but he wasn't sure if she really did or not. No one else was vying for it, after all.

"Well, some men get disappointed when they discover that the absolutely tiny panties are only for special occasions," she shrugged, grinning over at him. "I will never understand how some people are so certain that women wear lace frilly knickers and bras all the time - we deserve all the jersey-cotton we can get our hands on, too!"

He laughed at her explanation, which wasn't really much of an explanation at all. "It doesn't matter to me what kind of undies you wear so long as you're comfortable." Then again, if she wanted to wear frilly lingerie for him, he wasn't about to argue about that.

"Sometimes a little discomfort is worth it," she mused impishly, wriggling over to rest herself against his side, enjoying the ease she felt in his company. "I hope you know I'm not expecting sex tonight, Aaron," she felt the need to say aloud. "I mean, if it happens, wonderful, but ....I'm just enjoying being with you. If that's all right, that is."

He slid an arm around her shoulders as she moved closer, taking a lean against the couch, beer in his free hand. "No pressure there," he said, with a bit of a chuckle. He was once again relieved that he wasn't the blushing type. "So, do you want to be my girlfriend or do I have to steal a microphone and embarrass myself just to win your heart?"

"Oh, I think we can spare you that embarrassment," she assured him with a faint chuckle, glowing just a little as his arm wrapped about her shoulders. It seemed as though she fitted almost perfectly against him. "You opened your home to my elderly dog; I'm pretty much yours for life, if you want me."