It wasn't that Calypso was unfamiliar with flirting and dating. After all, it was hardly a modern phenomenon. Holding hands. Stolen kisses. Things like that. It was just, she wasn't really sure which of those things were still relevant. Even worse, she wasn't sure if they had added anything new.

The fresh ocean breeze tore through her jeans at the pier, but she didn't feel cold. Festus was curled up behind (and around) the bench she was sitting on, and he eminated a comforting heat from his constantly working machinery. He seemed to like Wales. Neither her nor Leo were really sure how they had ended up there. They had just been in Tarifa in southern Spain (Leo had been rather relieved that they just barely had avoided Gibraltar and the pillars of Hercules), but they had gotten lost in some really bad weather, and the next thing they new, they had landed on the moors in Wales. Festus had shown his love for the country by nicking a flag off a pole, which he now proudly wore as an accessory around one of his front legs.

There were lots of people walking along the beach and the piers. Calypso watched as they shuttered in the wind and pulled their caps down. A young couple, maybe in their early twenties, walked by. The girl huffed and put her arms around herself, trying to hide from the cold. The boy took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders before she could even ask.

"Thanks, babe," she said, and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. Calypso watched them until they walked in between the brick houses and dissapeared down a narrow street.

"What do you think, Festus," she asked the dragon. "Do you have any up to date courting advice? Are romantic poems still... In?"

Festus creaked, long and rythmic, and huffed some smoke.

"I though not," Calypso sighed and patted the dragon on his head.

"Hey!" Leo came jogging down the pier, holding a plastic bag. "I got us some food."

Calypso frowned and pointed at his shirt. "And new clothes, I see."

"Yeah, the old one was not exactly fresh anymore. Also, I didn't think I was able to pull off showing my nipples through that rift."

Calypso frowned as she tried to read the text on his chest. "Is that even a word?"

"More like a sound," Leo shrugged. "Kutch, I think? Apparently it means cosy or something like that. That's what the lady in the souvenir shop told me. But, you know, maybe it is a super rude word. That old hag didn't seem very friendly. I think she overcharged me. "

Then he lifted the plastic bag and grinned. "There was this Indian take-away place at the trainstation. I thought it would be funny, you know, like the start of a joke. A Latino Greek demigod and an Ogygian sorceress eats Indian food on a Welsh pier."

He sat down on the bench next to her and rumaged through the plastic bag, pulling out plastic cutlery and several boxes of food.

"I got you something they told me was vegetarian. I do not know how to pronouce it, but they said it was good."

"Thanks, babe," she said, and took the box he handed her. The stew smelled amazing. Not that she didn't like Leo's campfire cooking, but it was nice to try something else. Everything else, actually. She felt like she had missed out on a lot of international and modern cuisine while she was trapped. Then, she smelt the scent of Indian spices rising from Leo's open box.

"Leo, your hands are on fire. Your food is boiling."

"Huh?"

"Dork, don't melt the container."

"Oh, right!" Leo's hands stopped burning, but when Calypso looked up at him, she noticed that his ears were still smoking.

"What, uhm, what did you just say?" he asked sheepishly.

"That you are going to burn your container?"

"No, before that."

"Your food is boiling?" She was playing coy, and she was very aware of it, but it was so much fun to see Leo's right eartip ignite.

"Nooo." He rolled his hand, gesturing for her to go further back. "When you thanked me. Did. Did you just call me babe?"

She shrugged and started eating, trying her very best to hide her smirk (and to surpress the warm feeling in her cheeks). Festus creaked, and Leo lit up, litterally. His hair was on fire now. A couple of mortals gasped.

"Leo!" She scolded him, and he abruptly stopped burning, but his grin was still plastered over his face. Aw shucks. He was adorable. Not that she was going to say that out loud, but...

"You did!" He sounded so genually happy about it, her stomach tickled. "You made me a cute nickname! I need to give you a nickname too." He tapped a rythm against the side of his container while he was thinking.

Then, he smirked, looking sly. "Mamacita?"

"What? You are not calling me Mama-anything." She pointed at him with her fork. "I have told you, I am not old!"

"Aw, Cal, it is just slang." But his cheeks went red.

"Leo, I think babe is sufficiant. I do not think we need to get creative."

He shrugged, but didn't stop grinning. "So youre saying I can't make you call me hunkmuffin?"

She snorted, trying to hide that she was just about to laugh. "No," she said, doing her best keep the giggles out of her voice. He could see right through it, though. She knew that. Leo always took pride in making her laugh, even when she did her best to surpress and disguise it. It just made him even more eager to joke around, as if making her laugh out loud would be a great accomplishment. A challenge. Maybe that was why she liked making him work for it.

"Aw, babe. Honey. Sugarpie. Darlin'. Cally. Mamacita."

"Stop it," she laughed and swatted him on the arm. But he grabbed her hand, and before she could react, he gave it a little kiss. There was a blush in his cheeks and his grin had settled into a content smile.

"Babe," he said with a sigh. Then he let go of her hand in favour of draping his arm over her shoulders, and took to eating quietly.

She watched him for a bit before returning to her own food. They sat in silence and listened to the waves on the beach and the sounds of the town behind them. She wondered to herself if anyone else got to see this side of Leo. The quiet, content and silently reflecting side. It was rare, and she had come to enjoy it. No joking around, no hiding behind a mask. Sometimes, calmed talking and a warm hand around hers. It never lasted long, unless he fell asleep. Maybe she was special, that she got to participate in those solemn and whispering conversations.

"Babe," she said again, and nudged him. "Can you pass the rice?"

She pretended not to notice just how very warm the rice was when she took the box.