A big thank you to Lurking Lady, AwesomeJellyBean, and CGKrows! And a very big thank you to Random, the very first reviewer of Aisle 16! A very big round of applause! *claps* Okay, that's enough. But seriously, thank you guys :3 I love you all! Reviews drive my will power to go on!

But I have a request. Please tell me if my character seems Mary-Sue-ish. I really need to know. I know there's the extreme Mary-Sues; super hot, becomes Master Assassin of Specialness in a day, makes the main character assassin go all googly-eyed over them, powers of some sort. But then there's the subtle ones, and sometimes I just can't tell. But then there's the people with Eagle-Vision who can spot a Sue from a mile away. So to you select folk, please tell me if mines the golden target or not.

And please remember. Creative criticism given a nice warm hug, Flamers will be given Twilight. Choose your pick.

Dakota sat there in her car for a minute, waiting. Waiting for the man actually. It had been five minutes since he had bolted for her backyard, and a sudden worry began to swarm in her stomach. Looking over to the fence, Dakota numbly got out of the car and walked over to the cream fence. Unhinging the lock on the gate, she looked around. Her backyard wasn't too big; a patch of grass. She liked to keep it good-looking though, as dry, brown grass always got on her nerves for some reason. A few flowers grew in the corner, white daisies, purple pansies, red roses, pink dahlias, and white and blue petunias. A few dog toys littered the yard, and if it had been any other day, Dakota would have groaned and scolded Alfie for ripping the stuffing out of them again. But it wasn't any other day. It took a few minutes to locate the man, and she was quite shocked to see him. He was perched on the fence, staring out into the wilderness beyond. He was completely still, completely balanced. Dakota had only seen a cat be able to walk along fences, so the sight of him made her raise her brows high. Coming up behind him silently, the girl stared at him curiously before following his gaze out into the woods. She couldn't see what he was looking at so intensely, as not even a squirrel skittered across the ground. But those dark eyes were narrowed to mere slits under that hood -she could see a small bit of them from the light- that same dilation coming upon his pupils. His concentration was unwavering, so when he snapped his head to look at Dakota she jumped back immediately. He looked her over for a moment, lips in a tight, thin frown. She cleared her throat. "S-So what're you l-looking at?" Of course she was frightened! Glancing between his tomahawk and his jaw, he looked back to the woods.

"There are no enemies in the area." He grunted before swinging off back into the yard. She shivered. Again, that voice just...she didn't even know what it was! So Dakota stood there, staring out in the woods. Okay...? Turning around, she watched as he scanned the environment, looking up into the sky, and finally back at the house. Without a single word, he stalked towards the back door and went inside. It only took Dakota a second to scramble into her house as well. He had just walked into her house! Without permission or anything! He was currently investigating the room, glancing up suspiciously at the tv as he touched his gloved hand onto the marble counter. Dakota was going to say something, but unfortunately her words were lost as a gray blur dashed in front of her. Alfie snarled at the man was he picked up her cookie jar, a low growl rumbling within his throat. The man looked at the pitbull, and tensed. Alfie took a step forwards, giving an aggressive bark. The mans hand twitched once more, and with a flick of his wrist and a short 'shink', a blade was protruding from the bracer on his arm. He flipped it in his hand, holding it like a dagger and scowling at the dog. Alfie only barked louder, not the least frightened. He had to protect his master from this stranger after all. Dakota barely managed to pull the gray dog back before the man swiped at him with the blade, missing his black nose by an inch. It didn't faze the dog whatsoever, and Alfie strained to get out of Dakotas grip. Trying to soothe both the man and the dog, Dakota simply ended up dragging Alfie outside. Shutting the glass door, she gave a sheepish smile over the mans way.

She rubbed her hand behind her head. "I'm sorry about that...he's never barked at anyone before." Alfie was a friendly dog, and usually greeted a person with an excited yip or a slobbery kiss. He never barked, more or less growled. So such an event made Dakota even more uneasy, if that was even possible. The man said nothing, his jaw tight. Well, at least she knew why he kept twitching his wrist so much. And that didn't make her feel any better. Her throat began to feel dry, and she quickly licked her lips. "Um, so, do want to sit down or...?" Silent as ever, he pulled out one of the chairs from the table next to him, turned it around, and sat down. Dakota cautiously sat down as well, placing her hands in her lap. It was silent for several minutes as Dakota looked around the room while the man looked at her expectantly. Finally she glanced at him from her kitty-clock. "Um...whats' your name?"

"Ratohnhake:ton."

Only a small shiver. "Wha-? Ra...Ra-what?"

He let out a small sniff through his nostrils. "Ra-doon-ha-gay-doon." Ra-whatever-his-name-was said slowly.

Silence.

Shiver.

The man let out a sigh of annoyance, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He's getting in a hissy fit because I couldn't pronounce his name?! "Connor."

The girl gave a small smile, putting out her hand. "Nice to meet you Connor. I'm Dakota." She kept her hand there, waiting for him to shake it. He didn't and simply looked down at it blankly. Frowning, she pulled her hand back onto her lap, and twiddled her fingers around. What now? There wasn't much else to ask him, and she didn't know what to talk about. Dakota was quite sure he didn't want to hear her talk about apples. So instead, she got up out of her chair and went towards the laundry room. She had to get the groceries out of the trunk. Unfortunately, she didn't notice Connor follow her outside until she had picked up a plastic bag full of applesauce and milk and turned around. How could he be that silent?! She hadn't even heard his footsteps behind her, not a single thing indicating that there was indeed another human being behind her and not just air. So it was only right for her to jump out of her skin and drop the bags. Almost faster than the speed of light, Connor had the bags gripped in his own large hands before they fell to the ground. Cat-like reflexes, super sneaky -if Dakota didn't know any better, she would have thought he was some kind of ninja.

Dakota watched him hold the bags, waiting there a minute before letting out a grunt. Dakota came out of her flustered state before getting the hint. "Oh! Sorry, um, just take those inside and put them on the table." With a mute nod, he carried the two bags into the house. He was...helping? Seemed a bit strange, but alright. Dakota wasn't going to complain of course, it always took her forever to get all the groceries inside. She didn't know why exactly, it was either due to laziness or no upper body strength. Probably laziness. Sighing, she grabbed three plastic bags in her arms and walked inside. With the most ungraceful actions she spilled the bags onto the table, some of the items falling out and rolling off onto the floor.

Connor did help get the rest of the bags into the house, placing them down much more gently than Dakota had. After that they were back to square one, sitting on the chairs and staring at one another. Of course Dakota had given up on staring and had her head against the table, looking down at the floor. A thick layer of dust was building up under the table. I seriously need to start cleaning under this thing...maybe if I got a new swifer or something. Wait, didn't I see a new mop-cleany-thingy on a commercial earlier? Maybe I-

"You have a very unusual home." Again, shivers. The girl raised her head from the table to cock a brow at him. The hooded man looked around the room, his unseen gaze finally coming back to Dakota. "I have never seen such devices in others. Such as that cold-box," He nodded his head towards the fridge. "Does it keep your food fresh? How does it stay at such a temperature?" He didn't give Dakota time to even frown at the question before gesturing to the lamp. "And I have never seen a candle like that. Is your husband wealthy?" Husband? Wha-? She was only twenty years old! Not even noticing as she flailed her arms, mouth flapping open and closed. No, he didn't notice any of that. He was staring at the lamp while she tried to find words to express what she felt. But, Dakota didn't know what she felt at the moment. Confusion was all that she could really identify. Though as her arms had just began to flap around, all movement ceased as he removed his hood. "I must thank you for what you have done for me. I know very few people who would be so kind to someone of my race."

Dakota didn't really think about his whole 'thank-you', but was instead looking at his face. Back at the grocery store she'd only gotten a small glimpse, and had a very vague image of Connor's face except for his jaw and nose. But all of those thoughts were erased and burned as she stared at his face. the strong jaw she had already noted, along with the wide nose. But he had high cheek bones, a faint scar just under his left eye. Dark, long, brown hair -Dakota wasn't sure if it was truly dark brown or just a very light shade of black- covered his head, tied back by a strip of red cloth. A small braid, with red and green beads came beside his right cheek, with a loose strand or two coming onto his forehead. Right now his expression was soft, kind even. But it was those eyes again that caught her. Oh, those eyes. Like her feelings, Dakota didn't know how to explain those eyes, why they were so striking to her.

But, he was quite handsome for a crazy person.

Finally, she gained back her senses and began to wrap her brain around what he had said. "Your race? Why would someone be rude to you because of your race?" What was he anyway? His skin was dark. Hispanic perhaps? No, it was something different. Something-

"I am from the Kanien'kehá:ka village." Yet again, he had interrupted her thoughts and said another one of those crazy names. He cocked his head to the side, raising one of his arched brows before furrowing them deeply. "Are my people not 'savages' to you?" Connors voice was laced with venom, hatred, and was ended with a deep growl. His face was no longer kind, no. Lips turned into a deep frown, his nostrils flared once more. "I have heard people call me many names before. 'Mutt', 'half-breed', 'animal', and so on. But savage..." He stopped himself, crossing his arms over his chest, before shaking his head. He let out a frustrated noise through his nostrils, closing his eyes, and turning his head towards the right. "But that is not my point." His muscles, tensed from the sudden rage, relaxed themselves slowly as she calmed himself down. "You have been kind to me, so I will be kind in return." Connor leaned forwards, brows knitting together slightly. "But I must know, where am I?" Dakota had been awaiting that question in the logical side of her mind. Of course it was currently having its beauty sleep, so the question came upon her quite suddenly.

She looked outside for a moment. Alfie was waiting outside the door, sitting down with his nose pressed against the glass as he eyed Connor. "You're in Pennsylvania." Dakota said numbly, not glancing over to see his bewildered expression.

Connor rubbed a hand through his hair for a moment. "But...I was just in Boston...how..." The mumbling caught her attention of course, plus the mention of Boston. But he quickly shook it off and narrowed his eyes at her. "Never mind. Where is the nearest carriage? I must get back to Boston. I have very important matters to attend to there." Wait-carriage? What the heck was he talking about. No one took carriages over to Boston! That was just -no, he was just plain weird. Shaking her head, Dakota got up from her chair and went towards the fridge. She needed a juice box. Of course, Connor followed behind her silently, looking at the colorful little juice pouch curiously Dakota didn't really care about what he thought, and looked up at the clock. 10:50. Time went by fast when one was dealing with a psychopath. Taking her own sweet time she walked over to the couch and plopped down into her comfy red chair. It was her favorite chair, one of the little throw pillows on it sewn by her deceased grandmother. It was a nice cream color, with decorative flowers and a cute little blue bird in the middle. It was very dear to her heart, so as Connor came by her, she quickly pulled it against her chest and sucked at her straw. Dakota didn't want him to touch or, or even brush his coat against it. He looked quite dirty, dust and muck on his gloves and clothes and face. She hoped that he had at least taken one shower in his life as he sat down on the couch.

He shuffled around a bit before settling down. His back didn't touch the couch, his hand folded neatly in in his lap his, his stare intense. "As I asked you before miss. Where is the nearest carriage, I must get back to Boston." The words were harder, sterner, more demanding. Dakota didn't answer, the sound of her sucking at the empty juice box making him flinch. The girl simply turned her head towards the painting next to her and shrugged.

"I don't know. There aren't really any 'carriages' around here. At least none that I know about." Dakota didn't even care what he did anymore. As long as he didn't break anything. A sudden overwhelming wave of exhaustion fell onto her shoulders, the bags under her eyes showing more clearly. Perhaps staying up till 5 a.m. on her computer hadn't been the best idea after all. She only glanced back for a moment to see his distressed look, hands unfolded and his hand twitching again. It wasn't a good thing when that hand twitched. So, because of that small twitch, Dakota cuddled the pillow closer, and tensed. Connor stared at the ground, and finally let out a sigh. It was silent again, the only sound the muffled barks from Alfie outside. They weren't on square one anymore, they were far behind square one. Possibly square negative five. Was there a square negative five? Probably. The juice box had grown very flat, all the air sucked out of it. Not even a drop of apple juice in there.

Connor growled at her as she desperately searched the juice box for even a little-itty drip of liquid left. "How do you not know if there are no carriages? Do you know nothing woman?"

Dakota raised a brow at him. Woman? Did he just call her woman? Her mouth opened, then closed quickly. Dakota wanted to tell him off very badly, but held her tongue. No matter if he was some stinking sexist pig, he was a still a stinking sexist pig that was two feet taller than her with weapons strapped onto every part of his body. So, insulting him in her mind, she got up from her comfy chair and stomped up the stairs. The man didn't follow -thankfully- and Dakota boiled as she marched into her room and flopped down onto her bed. Letting out a long, frustrated groan, Dakota slammed her head into her blankets. All she needed to do was cool down, collect herself. Connor was impossible, true, but Dakota could manage to deal with him. At least once she found out where he lived. The moment she knew that, and he would be out of her life and back to Boston or wherever he had come from. Yeah, that sounded nice. She just had to calm down was all...

~*~*~XXX~*~*~

So, it turned out that 'calming-down', was actually taking a nap.

An hour nap at that.

More than enough time for Connor to find his way around things.

It had been a terrifying sight to see the oddly dressed man putting his hands into the toaster. Thankfully it hadn't been burned, though had been extremely warm. Of course that hadn't been the only mishap while Dakota had been asleep. He'd broken the lamp, a vase, burnt out her other lamp, somehow got the peanut butter jar stuck onto the ceiling -how'd he'd managed to get it up there would forever remain a mystery- and made a large hole in her curtains. Of course he had been polite and said a small sorry, which made Dakota a bit better. She could get the curtains fixed later. At the moment she was currently fussing over his hands, trying to make sure that they were one hundred percent okay. Connor simply rolled those dark eyes of his, growing impatient as Dakota turned his hand around for about the twentieth time. "I am fine miss." He said sharply, pulling his hand away from her. But she quickly snatched it back, frowning at the man.

"Nope, it's not 'fine' until I say its fine. Hands aren't just 'fine' when people slot them into toasters." So, she looked over his hands again. They were very large, larger than she would expect, and with his gloves off she could see them clearly. The skin was calloused, a few dark marks from blisters and scratches. They were extremely hot, but Dakota didn't know whether it was from the toaster or they were always like that. The man practically radiated heat, and Dakota had been quite startled to find such heat blowing onto her when she sat down next to him on the couch. One of her windows was open, sending in a chilly draft. But Dakota liked it like that, as she always liked to cuddle into her blankets and drink hot cocoa in this type of weather. But unfortunately she couldn't do that because of the extremely annoyed man in her living room. After two minutes of huffing and eyeing that hand, she let go of it and nodded her head. "Okay. It's fine now." Connor didn't say anything. Instead he simply pulled his gloves back onto his hands and glanced towards the kitchen. Alfie waited there silently, wagging his tail ever-so-slightly when Connor looked over. Dakota had put up the gate she used to have when he was just a pup, not wanting her dogs nose to get chopped off by blades.

Silence took over once more.

Dakota quickly cleared her throat, shuffling on the cushions. Connor remained still. "Um, Connor...so...what's, what's your favorite...color?" 'What's your favorite color?! That's all that you can think of?! Stupid, stupid, stupid-!

Instead of the reaction she expected -a raised brow, one of those snorts through his nose, even a grunt- he only looked at the floor and furrowed his brows. "I...haven't thought about it before." He...didn't know what his favorite color was? That was actually...kind of sad, really. Now it was Connors turn to shuffle around uncomfortably. "My work has kept me very preoccupied. I never had time to think about such things."

Dakota leaned a bit closer, curiosity in her eyes as she subconsciously played with her thumbs. "And what is your work?" He had a job? What kind? Perhaps he had a job at an office, and cracked from all the pressure of paperwork, an angry boss, or the fact the he was stuck in a little cube all day. Dakota had tried working at an office once...it hadn't turned out so well. Three broken tables and a restraining order later she had a job at the local Starbucks. But her question went unanswered by the dark man, as he kept his gaze firmly towards the ground. So, throwing any chance of getting some sort of response out of the man, Dakota shifted her body to face the man in front of her properly. With legs crossed in front of her, she smiled brightly at him. "You have time to think now." He glanced up at her. Ah, there's the eye-brow-raise I was looking for. "I'll help you with it. Now, lets start with the basics. Red or orange?"

Connor crossed his arms over his wide chest, looking to the side. How come he never looked at her unless he thought she was crazy? "Neither."

Dakota frowned a bit. "Alright...pink or purple?"

Again, the only reason he looked up was to give her a bizarre look. "Pink or purple?" He repeated as if in disbelief.

The girl simply crossed her arms over her own chest and huffed. "Hey, I know plenty of guys who like pink or purple!" Her finger quickly traveled to her chin, tapping it lightly as she stared at the ceiling. "Though most of them do have an attraction to men..." Dakota glanced down to see the edge of Connors lip twitching upwards. It was barely for a second before he went back to his usual neutral stare, but is was something. Smiling a bit broader, she went on. "Fine, not pink or purple. Yellow or green?"

He took around ten seconds before deciding on yet another "Neither."

Dakota nodded her head. "So all that's left is blue. Do you like blue?" Well, he did have it on his clothes. And besides, the only other two colors left were black and white and they seemed rather bland. Connor glanced at the floor, then the ceiling, over to Alfie, before his eyes finally landed to meet hers. He gave a curt nod. Dakota clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms against one another. "Great! Now, what kind of blue do you like?" They had started with the basics. Blue wasn't exactly enough to satisfy Dakota. She needed specifics.

But Connor only cocked his head to the side. "Type?" He said slowly.

Dakota sighed heavily. "Yeah, types: navy, sky blue, light blue, midnight blue...?" It only seemed to confuse Connor further, as he shuffled around in his seat on the couch and stared at her. Letting out a frustrated noise, she shook her head. "Just-never mind. Your favorite color's blue, alright?" Shaking her head of any other annoyed thoughts, she resumed her happy state. Dakota would have to be patient with Connor. "Now, what's your favorite animal."

The man took a moment to think about that one. "...the eagle." Something flashed in his eyes as he said it. Dakota couldn't place what it was, but something had been there for sure. Nodding her head, the girl looked over to Alfie. The gray dog had gone from wagging to wriggling in his spot, licking his chops and baring his sharp teeth slightly as Connor looked at him as well. Alfie did not like Connor one bit. Dakota had to admit, there was a strange air about the man, but she didn't know why the pitbull would hold such a strong hatred towards Connor. Looking back over to the dark man, she saw him staring suspiciously at the tv. He pointed a large, gloved finger at it. "What is that?" He looked at it as if it were about to start spewing flames at any second. This guy doesn't get out much, does he...? Grabbing the remote up, Dakota flicked it on. Not the best idea...

As soon as the screen flickered on, Connor had jumped up from his seat, knocking over the vase next to him. Well, at least it had been a gift. As soon as he moved Alfie scrambled to his paws and was over to the living room in an instant. Wait, how did he get over the fence?! He nipped at Connors heels, and Connor, in return, swiped at him with his tomahawk as the theme song of the Big Bang Theory sounded in Dakotas ears. The disgruntled girl quickly grabbed onto Alfie, her hands slipping against his collar. Her palms were always quite sweaty, and at this moment she cursed such a thing. Dakota only hoped that her neighbors couldn't hear the commotion. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The elderly couple across the street had been on their porch, drinking some tea when they heard the yelling, crashing, and shouting. It made them nervous, but they didn't do much about them. The only thing the old, gray-haired husband did was shrug his shoulders and say in his raspy voice, "Kids these days."