She raised her head slowly, trying to figure out where she was. Her head hurt. Her knees hurt. Her shoulder felt wrenched. Actually, her whole body hurt, everything from an ache to the fire in her shoulder. Mostly she felt her head hurt, though. It was worse even than her worst hangover, back when...

When what? She blinked and let herself fall back onto whatever sort of bed she was using, eyes closed. What had she been doing last night to feel like this in the morning? Only, wasn't it still night out there? She cracked her eyes open to check out the window. Yup, definitely night out there. Yet how could that be? She never slept past mid-afternoon, no matter when she fell asleep. Not even that time...

Hunh, she thought, sluggishly wracking her brain. What time? I don't sleep this late even when I WHAT? She couldn't answer that. She could feel it, right in the back of her mind, dancing just beyond her ability to remember.

Well, I can worry about that later. For now, where am I? I don't recognize this place at all. The window should be... Where? Not where it is, that's for sure. So, that means I'm not at home. So where am I?

She decided to get up. Maybe this was just a wicked hangover, and all that she still had to face was the so-called 'walk of shame'. Surely it wouldn't be her first, right? After all, she was taking this rather calmly. Therefore, she obviously just had to find the washroom, her purse, and maybe some breakfast. At that point, her life would be back on track. She steadfastly ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that said it wasn't going to be that easy.

She followed the scent of coffee with a divided mind. On one hand, she really didn't want to see just who she picked up while out-of-her-mind drunk. On the other hand, he might know where her purse was. As well, he obviously had coffee. It was that last thought that decided her. She smoothed her dress down, somehow nervous. She explained it away to herself as just never wanting to make a bad impression on anyone. Finally she took her courage in her hands and walked into the kitchen.

Her first impression was quite enough to stoke any man's ego. Wow. I could dry sheets on those shoulders! And just look at those muscled arms! The hair's a bit longer than I generally go for, but it's not too bad. Though it's even blonder than mine! I hope his face matches the rest of him!

Sensing her presence, despite the fact that she was absolutely silent, he turned. Her brief flash of approval was wiped away when she got a closer look at his expression. Good grief! Doesn't this man ever smile? That stony expression looks like it's carved on! A face like that is wasted on someone that icy. She suppressed a shiver at his attention. This was, without a doubt, the most unnerving person she'd ever met.

"So." He said, never taking his cold, cold eyes from her face. After an uncomfortable moment while he searched her face for something (For what? She didn't know, and wasn't about to ask.), he gave her a long look from head to toe, enough to make her blush. When his eyes came back to her face, the colour in her cheeks made him give her a sardonic smile. It made her somehow more obscurely embarrassed that he could smile with no trace of warmth or amusement.

"So." He repeated, giving a decisive nod of his head. She felt like sagging to the ground with the feeling of having passed a serious test. He waved her to a chair, and she collapsed into it gratefully. She mumbled her thanks as he passed her some toast and a cup of coffee. They ate in silence, her appetite leaving her as she could feel his eyes still on her. Finally she managed to finish off the last of her toast, and she raised her eyes to his with trepidation.

She almost jumped when he started speaking, so unexpected was the action. "Let's start with a proper introduction. I'm Kale Diurn. This is my home. And you are...?" He trailed off, obviously waiting for her to introduce herself.

"..." She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She shut it, puzzled. It was an elementary question. She knew the answer, too. She was...

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. She didn't know the answer. Suddenly all the little things she'd been trying not to notice came rushing back at her. She couldn't remember any of her (undoubtedly there, she still knew her attitude) escapades. She woke up dressed. And, she noticed for the first time, filthy. In a stranger's house. A stranger she never would have picked up at a bar, him not seeming the type to be there. At night, when she didn't sleep that long. Hurting all over. She dropped her head into her hands, then jerked it up with a strangled cry as her palm made contact with what felt like a huge bruise on the side of her head.

"I see." The man said, with what she considered an insultingly calm voice. "So you still don't remember. And I bet you still don't want me to call the police, hmm?"

She'd been gearing up to get mad at him for his high-handed treatment of what was, to her, world-shatteringly bad news. However, all of her anger drained out of her at that phrase. "...call the police..." rang in her mind, spoken in a voice both more cheerful and chilling than that of the ice-man before her. No! She thought fearfully. Nononononooooooo! Don't... he... run!

Kale felt like cursing at himself for bringing that up right away. The only reason he managed to catch her before she sprinted out of the room was because he half expected that reaction from her. She tried to shake him off, fighting valiantly, but he had a grip on her arms and wasn't letting go. She was running back towards the bedroom, which only had a balcony as an exit. In the state of mind she seemed to be in, he wasn't willing to bet she wouldn't try to get out from it. And he lived on the ninth floor.

Some crazy chick falling to her death from his balcony was not how he wanted to start his leave. Actually, the crazy chick in general was a major crimp in his plans.

Still, he'd talked to her, then taken her to his home to recover. He couldn't very well wash his hands of her now.

"Oh shush, you ninnie! If I was going to call the police to handle you, I'd have done so. Relax!" He hauled her into his arms, using his whole body to subdue her without injuring her any more than she already was. "Calm down, will you? I can't get anything done with you like this! You're not helping anything. Not by fighting me. I am not your enemy."

With a final full body shudder, she went limp in his arms. She was still supporting her weight with her own legs, but he could feel her leaning into him as if she needed the support. Considering what she'd apparently been through, he figured she probably did, and tried his best not to shake her off like he did with most females. Finally he took her shoulders in his hands and pulled her back far enough that he could see into her eyes. No surprise, she'd been crying again. He grimaced slightly, then shook his head.

"Look, nothing's going to get figured out with you this high strung. I'm going to get you some spare clothes and a towel. I'm sure you'll feel much better when you're clean." He didn't mention his second reason. At the moment, he wasn't sure what was dirt and what was bruising. That was information he wanted before he decided what the next step would be.

She nodded, her blue eyes guileless. Though it could be a front. He'd known someone before who had looked just as sweet and ended up being a total bitch. He frowned at the thought, banishing the memories that came with her through sheer willpower.

He led her back to the bedroom, one hand on her elbow to make sure she didn't take off again. Once they got there, he sat her on the bed, than started going through the drawers. "You're way too small to be able to wear any of my pants. They'd trip you up. Will shorts do?" At her cautious nod, he tossed her an old pair from when he played sports back in university... He steered clear of that thought too, finding her a shirt he'd been given as a gift that he hadn't bothered to get rid of yet. It was too small for him. He then escorted her back out, showing her to the bathroom after making a brief stop at the linen closet. Then he retreated to the living room to brood over this rather unwelcome intrusion to his life.

She looked around her at the fixtures and was impressed despite her inner turmoil. He had so little in the way of furniture that she hadn't realized how very well-off he must be. This room was quite large itself, though it was well filled with the monster jacuzzi tub that took up a full wall. She was very, very tempted to try it out, but knew better. She was filthy, and really needed a shower. As well, that man (Kale, her mind reminded her) was waiting for her. She was already being an imposition, she knew. No need to be rude too.

She stripped quickly, wrinkling her nose at the state her clothes were in. Then she examined herself in the mirror, scrutinizing her whole body carefully. What she saw shocked her. Wait till after your shower. She told herself firmly. Some of that's probably dirt.

She spent quite some time luxuriating under his massaging shower head, just out of pure pleasure. Then she got down to the business of giving herself a serious scrubbing. Her body wasn't much trouble, but her hair...

It said much to her that she actually thought of just hacking it all off at several points in time. However, to have grown her hair out to the point where it touched her knees meant she must have wanted it that long. Still, it was a huge pain at the moment.

Finally she finished and got out, before giving herself a brisk towelling. She hunted for a hair dryer, but gave up the search after she found condoms in one drawer. It was only at that moment that she realized Kale may not appreciate her going through all his stuff. Instead, she just ran a wide toothed comb she found on the counter through it, then tried to braid the heavy, soaking mess. Finally she wrapped the braid around her head and the towel around the braid, coming to the conclusion that it was the only way she was going to be able to not soak everything around her. Finally she pulled the clean clothes on, since her skin was now mostly dry. She giggled a little at how loose the shorts were. The drawstring,when pulled tight, caused the shorts to bunch up almost double and both loops and strings to hang down almost to her knees.

Buoyed by her laughter, she bounced down the hall to where the living room was. Kale looked up at her entrance, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Why are you so happy?" He demanded, confused.

She giggled again at the look on his face before pulling up the shirt, which almost completely covered the shorts, to show him the giant bow at the front of them. She expected him to see what she was laughing at, so was startled to see his expression grow grim. She let out a small 'meep' as he was suddenly next to her, holding the shirt up with one hand while the other traced the bruises peeking over the waistband. She knew, without looking, which ones he was looking at. The ones shaped like fingers, curling over her hips.

She blushed, looking down, as his hands continued their careful inspection of her injuries. He pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, checking out her arms and shoulders. He pulled the towel off of her head as she closed her eyes (was it embarrassment? Something else?), then loosened her braid so he could thread his fingers through her hair, finding a few lumps due to the slight wince even his soft touch caused her. Lastly, he tipped her face up to the light, brushing her bangs back as he completed his inspection.

Finally he let go of her and stepped back. She opened her eyes cautiously, worried about what she'd see on his face. He'd be disgusted that she let this happen, she was sure. He'd blame her. She felt the fear down to her marrow. At first glance, the black look on his face bore out her fears.

His hands were slowly clenching, a sight that scared her more than anything else at that moment. She felt lightheaded, and her vision was starting to cloud. She locked her knees, determined to take his judgement standing.

Then he spoke.

"That... bastard. If I could get my hands on him right now..." He trailed off, noticing her trembling. His expression softened almost imperceptibly, and he reached out to chafe her arms gently. "Hey, I don't mean you. I'm not mad at you. And he's not here. I'm not going to hurt you, understand? You can stay here while you get yourself sorted out. I promise. I'm not going to hit you, I'm not going to rape you, I'm not going to throw you out, and I'm not going to tell anyone in authority about you until you say I can. Okay?" She was crying again, and clearly terrified. He wished she wasn't so jumpy. He was never sure if what he said was going to cause her to bolt again, or just collapse from strain.

He was still coldly furious, more angry than he could ever remember being in his life. From the look of the bruises on her stomach, shoulders, and legs, all easy to hide in this chilly weather, this abuse had been going on for a while. From her instinctive fear reaction, she was plainly quite terrified of whoever had been doing this to her, and not at all in love. That was such a small silver lining that he barely counted it in the face of everything else.

For one thing, this girl was tiny! She couldn't be more than 5'3", and slender. Having packed her, he was well aware that she was quite light, appropriate for her size and build. He was able to measure the mystery asshole's handprints with his, and he was likely comparable in size, at almost a foot taller.

For another, when she'd come waltzing into the room smiling, her expression had hit him almost like a blow to the gut. He'd known she was quite pretty since his first look in that alley. However, smiling, she wasn't just pretty. She was beautiful! That realization had shaken him almost as much as anything else that had transpired. He hadn't thought that about a woman since... Well, best not to get into that now. It was probably just his tiredness that had him keeping thinking about her, and them.

That was neither here nor there, though. For now, he had enough to deal with without old memories. Her, for example. Her asshole ex, or guardian, or kidnapper, whoever he was. The problems she represented. He sat her down, then tried to organize the problems he had to deal with. It would probably be easier if he hadn't been up for about twenty hours, fourteen of which had been at work. And pulling days like that for the past week. However, she wasn't allowed to sleep this night. Any fall that results in unconsciousness causes a concussion. Which meant he had to stay up too.

Joy.

He rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers in front of his face, considering. She stayed silent, still looking like she was afraid he was going to pounce on her any moment. Finally he spoke up. "We've got a couple of problems here. However, we'll start with the easiest to solve. I can't just keep calling you 'you'. Any ideas?"

She tilted her head to the side, considering, before shaking her head. "Not really, no. I don't think I ever considered a different name much. I just ran through a bunch in my head, but none of them felt right. I don't think I'd respond to them."

He nodded. "Fair enough. Generally, names are something others give you. A self-given one would be hard to feel ownership of." He tapped his fingers against his mouth, thinking. "Autumn. It suits your eyes and hair, it's my favourite season, and it's this season. Hmm... In case of introductions, we'd better come up with a last name for you too. Taylor. Autumn Taylor. What do you think?"

She blinked, then mulled it over. "Autumn Taylor, hmm? I like it. It has a nice ring to it. It's not my name, but I like it anyways."

"That's good." He replied, feeling rather warm inside from her approval, though he ignored that part of him with the ease of long practice. "The next, and the next easiest to solve, are actually two interconnected ones. Money and clothing."

She waved her hand dismissively, still obviously thinking about her new name more than his comments. "I can pay you back. Money's not really an issue." Suddenly her face grew thoughtful as she realized what she'd just said. "Hunh. I wonder if I was rich before. I sure sound like some rich snob, don't I?"

He gave her a look, then gestured towards the rest of the apartment. "I'm not exactly hurting myself. What I more meant was that you need clothes. I don't shop. Plus I would not be comfortable being around while you got some things. However, I can't just give you my debit or credit card. If my banking security is any sort of good, they'll get a freeze on them before you're anywhere near done. Mostly what I was asking, I guess, is if you're up to carrying cash while you shop."

She nodded, considering. "I think I would be fine with that. However, I don't think I want to be packing it through a mall. Too much of a chance for trouble. Is there a department store around here? Then I can get everything all at once. I don't really want to spend too much time out in public right now." She gave a barely perceptible shudder at the thought, but he noted it. "Plus it'll cost less. Even if neither of us are approaching poverty, there's no real reason to waste money. Well, your money. I'm sure I waste plenty of mine like that..." She sent him a saucy wink to go with that, and he had no trouble imagining her blowing hundreds, or even thousands, on whims.

"That's fine with me. I'd rather not spend the day ferrying you from store to store." He didn't let on that he'd seen her shiver. He knew she wouldn't want it noticed. "What are you going to tell them, though? If you don't want to attract attention, buying a whole new wardrobe right down to the underwear isn't the best idea. It'll make you stand out."

She gave a gusty sigh and suddenly looked put upon. She gestured to the empty space beside her expansively. "Lost, they say. Probably it's on its way to Mexico, they say. They're looking, they say." She leaned in almost conspiratorially. "Mexico my ass. It could be in Antarctica, for all I know. All I know is that my bag disappears all the time, and I almost never get it back! And my favourite shirt was in there too! So I had to go get cash, since I wasn't sure if you took Amex, (oh, not everyone takes Amex, dear. The coffee shop over there doesn't even take Visa!) then go buy a new wardrobe. Not that I mind shopping, but my first day here was supposed to be at my favourite park, with my cousin, and it's beautiful out there! I tell you, flying is more trouble than it's worth!" She looked so exasperated at the end that he couldn't help but chuckle.

"That was well done." He commended. "A very neat little plot. And you filled in most of the holes I could think of. I've known professional actors that weren't that good. That should work out just fine. If not, I'm sure you'll be able to improvise something that will. So tomorrow good for that, then? Or, I guess it's today now..." He glanced over at the clock, which confirmed it was way early in the morning. A time he hadn't seen with his own eyes since his college days. However, head injuries equal sleepless nights.

"'It's not tomorrow until you've gone to bed or the sun has risen.'" She quoted, eyes dancing with humour. "So your tomorrow is my today, since I woke up earlier." She tilted her head to the side and placed a finger on her chin. "Does that make you my past or me your future? Just think, you could tell everyone at work that you've met your future!"

He blinked at her, slightly dumbfounded at the idea she'd just spawned. "Uh, what?"

She shook her head exasperatedly. "Silly man. Your today is my yesterday, and your tomorrow is my today. That being said, we're having a conversation right now. So now we know. In the dead of night, the threads of reality and time unravel!" She said the last in a spooky tone, though it wasn't enough to disguise the humour in her voice. She was obviously enjoying her nonsensical idea. Then she focused off into the distance once again. "Then again, maybe I'm just special, and can do things like that. Like Black Belt!"

She looked right at him then, expecting him to join in her laughter. He, however, had no idea what she was talking about, and said so. He was starting to get used to being caught off-guard. Her train of thought has clearly not bothering to go through reality.

However, it appeared his comment had astounded her. "You've never heard of 8-Bit Theatre? Really? But... but... It's so funny! I got into it when..." She trailed off, frustration obvious in the set of her face. "When what? How was I introduced to this? It's not that big a deal, but I can't remember!" The last few words were hissed out, barely audible through the rage she put into them. That reminded him that, however annoying her missing memories were for him, it was worse for her.

"Look, Autumn, getting mad isn't going to make anything easier. It might even make it less likely that you can access your memories. Give it a few days. If, after that, you still can't remember, we can find a specialist to help you. Okay? Just, just relax. Give it some time. You're not in the way. You can stay here. Just let it be." He didn't want her going hysterical again. He didn't think he had the strength left to deal with her right at the moment. He hadn't dealt with any hysterical girls since he'd graduated from college. Any girl that had started had gotten the cold shoulder and ignored. He hadn't cared. He could just leave scene-causing girls behind. However, Autumn was both in his apartment and had a good reason, so he couldn't just walk out on her. So the best thing to do was calm her down before she really got started. He wasn't particularly good at calming girls down, but he seemed to have managed it for now.

She smiled faintly, recognizing the fear in his body lines as being the normal fear of every man that he'll have to deal with a female having a little breakdown. She was sure she'd seen it before. She was sure she'd see it again. It was pretty instinctual for men. Still, she wasn't sure he'd thought it through as much as he thought he had. For one thing... "What if I don't have my memories back by Monday? It's the weekend now, but what about when you have to go to work?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't go." He smirked at her look of disbelief. A little bit of payback for how she made him gape. "Seriously, though, I'm on leave. They told me point blank that I had to take my vacation time, since they didn't want to pay it out, and they wanted it done before people started worrying about Christmas. I chose now since I like September better than November anyway. If this isn't sorted out by the time I have to go to work, we'll discuss it then. Okay?"

"Okay." She replied, subdued. She looked down at her lap, mulling over everything he'd said and not said. Finally she looked back up at him. "I still don't get why you even let me stay here. You don't seem to be that naive, to automatically assume I'm what I said. It's pretty unbelievable."

He met the challenge in her eyes squarely. "What difference does it make? After watching you bolt at the very idea of calling the authorities, I knew there was no place you could go. Even a women's shelter would do that. Or mention it, at the very least. Then you'd have been off like a shot and back to square one. Besides, even if you run off with the shopping money I give you tomorrow, what's the big deal? As well, you could steal everything in this place down to the kitchen sink and it wouldn't make much difference to me, financially. And if you're just playing me to get a good life for a while, I'll figure it out eventually no matter how good of an actress you are. And in any of those cases, I get the rather base pleasure of tacking your hide to the wall." He shrugged. "It really doesn't matter much to me. And if you figure out who hurt you, I get to tack his hide to the wall. Contacts or no, I can make it happen. I'm not a bully, but I do enjoy exercising righteous anger. I think everyone enjoys vengeance. So I really can't lose."

She raised her eyebrow at his comments, surprised despite herself. Ice man indeed! It seems I pegged him right earlier. Still, he has a good point, and I really don't have anywhere to go. And even if he is a cold jerk doing it just for the sake of the 'fun' he'll have with revenge, I need an ally. "I see. So you have thought it through. I'm impressed."

He could hear the coolness in her voice from where she disapproved of his motivations. He didn't care. She needed him far more than he needed her, and at the end he would get the chance to flay someone alive, be it her or him. Hopefully him. Kale told himself firmly that it was just that any male that would hit a woman deserved to get his comeuppance. That his anger was merely because of his actions themselves, not to whom they'd been directed to. "Well, I did have all the time you were unconscious to do so."

Suddenly her eyes widened almost theatrically. "Oh my... You put me there in my clothes!" She almost wailed. "Those sheets are going to be filthy! I can't... I didn't mean... It's bad enough that I put you out of your bed for the first half of the night! Now I'll have to change the sheets before you can go to bed at all! Oh man, I really am being a huge pain for you, aren't I?" She jumped to her feet and rushed out of the room to where she remembered the linen closet being. He caught up with her just as she was pulling some of his spare sheets out of the closet. She glanced up at him. "Soft cotton. Good choice. Lots of people go for satin, or even silk."

She shook her head at the folly of people who think like that. "It feels good when you pull it out of the bag, but actually dealing with it? Silk duvet covers are the worst, though. You go to throw your duvet on the bed and it just slides off the other side. And God help you if that thing is even a centimetre lower on one side than the other once you get it settled. The entire thing slips right off as soon as your back's turned."

He raised an eyebrow at her still somehow unexpected chatter. "Coefficient of friction's that close to zero, eh?"

She looked back at him, her face absolutely adorable in an expression of confusion. "Co-what? What does that have to do with silk?"

Kale looked at her for a moment, completely poleaxed, then groaned and facepalmed. It wasn't enough that he had an abused amnesiac in his apartment. No, she had to be stupid too. Well, maybe not stupid, his conscious amended. Ignorant. Bubble-brained. Clueless. I don't know she's stupid. He took another look at her confused face. Yet.

He took a deep breath, deciding how to word this that she'd understand. "Silk is slippery." He said, opting for a cautious approach.

She gave a decisive snort and glared at him. "Well I know that! That's what I just said!" She huffed, spitting mad all of a sudden.

Someone save me from women and the trouble they bring with them! He thought desperately. "A coefficient is a number used to show physical effects in math." Not the scientifically approved meaning, but it'll work for this. "The coefficient of friction is a number that shows the effects of friction. Friction tries to keep things from sliding around. The coefficient is the number we give to show, oh, a ranking of slipperiness. Ice, silk, things like that have a very low number attached. Something like hardwood floors and linoleum, where you can slide in your socks, but don't have to worry about slipping, have fairly low numbers. Carpet, on the other hand, has a fairly high number. It takes effort to slide on it, but it can be done. Things like rubber welcome mats, new car tires, and hiking boot soles have a very high number, and it's hard for them to slip."

From the glazed look in her eyes, most of his lecture had gone over her head. That thought was mostly proved in the vague voice she used in her next comment. "I'll take your word on it." He resisted shaking his head with difficulty. On the other hand, he mused, at least she's not still mad at me!

He followed her into his room, where she quickly stripped the bed, then re-made with the deliberate care that made it obvious she was more used to messing up beds than making them. He guessed that her mother had likely made her bed for her while she was at home. Still, he couldn't help but grin at the smile she gave him at her accomplishment.

"There you go." She chirped. Yes, chirped. He didn't know people could actually do that. "All done. Now you can go to sleep." She covered a yawn with the back of her hand. "I kind of want to too. Do you mind if I steal your sofa? I'm tired..."

He could tell that all the excitement of the day had caught up with her. She was not going to be happy with what he had to say, that was for sure. "No."

She blinked at him dazedly. "I can't have the sofa? Why not? I don't think you're chivalrous enough to give up the bed, and I wouldn't accept it either. I'm shorter. It makes sense."

"Not 'no' to the sofa." He told her. "'No' to sleep. You've had at least one serious concussion today. You can't sleep. People are supposed to stay up for twenty four hours after that. You aren't allowed to sleep until tomorrow evening." He saw her expression of dismay. "I don't think you'll be able to do it by yourself, so I'm going to keep you up."

"But... but...you..." She trailed off, obviously having a hard time sifting what he'd told her through her tired brain.

"But nothing." He said. "Having to deal with you in a coma is not something I want to do." He couldn't remember if coma was the correct danger of sleeping after a head injury. However, it did seem to impress her, and he found he couldn't care if he was wrong.

"Oh. Okay." She said, immediately subdued. "So what should we do, then?"

"I'm not exactly sure." He replied. "Any ideas?"

Note to self, he thought exasperatedly, NEVER let her pick the activity again!

"Go fish!" She said happily, obviously gloating over the fact that she, again, had the vast majority of cards from the deck. He reached out and grabbed the last card from the stack in front of him, knowing that the completed pair spelt his doom in this, the fifteenth game of their 'Go Fish' marathon.

So far he'd won twice.

He couldn't help but be impressed at the amount of energy she had. Where he was getting worn to a thread, she just got bouncier the longer she was up. He considered this while she decimated the remaining contents of his hand and finished the game.

She picked up the cards, then began shuffling them. Then she gave him a glance from under her lashes, and he was immediately on the alert. She wanted something, and he needed to be awake to veto bad ideas. Like building a fort with his books. Or playing 'Spy' in his home. "So..." She hedged, the opening comment. He scrutinized her carefully. "I was rather... impressed... with your bathtub while I was in there earlier. Would you mind if I..."

That was as far as she got before he broke in exasperatedly. "That's what you wanted? A bath? For crying out loud..." He shooed her away from the cards. "I can take care of those. Just be careful you don't fall asleep in there. I'll knock on the door in a half hour or so and make sure."

He shook his head and put away the cards. Really, she could have just asked normally. It was just a tub, though he knew it was impressive. It's not like he would have said 'no'. He threw himself onto the couch and raked his hair back exasperatedly. Silly girl has no idea...of...what's...'portant...

Thanks to my wonderful editor kiwigreeneyes, once again. Her comments on my stories often become my favourite parts, above and beyond the story itself. Thanks also to rana for the reveiw. I'm afraid this won't be the most imaginative retelling of the amnesia idea. I really only wanted to bounce them off of each other without the other characters around to get a feel for them and their personalities. Then it just got long. I hope you enjoy it anyways. I do have some very 'me' stuff in it, though.

As for everyone else, I hope you like the story, and I wish you all the best in the new year.