Time apart seemed to make things worse for Darielle. She thought it would clear her head, but instead, it filled her head with Raphael. She would vacillate back and forth between wanting to see him again and pursue a potential friendship to leaving New York and not looking back. The only thing that kept her going was the fact that she could, in fact, tuck tail and run at anytime. If she felt too uncomfortable, she would just leave New York, but until then, why run? Wasn't she running all the time? Isn't that why she didn't have a real home? She just moved from job to job, hotel to motel to hide the fact that she has nothing? When you were in a hotel room, the things in the room aren't meant to be yours. They are generic to accommodate who ever passes through. It usually gave her comfort that the room would look the same for another occupant. But if you had an apartment or house, something to call 'home base', and it still looked like a hotel room, there was something wrong. She refused to set up a location and fill it with her things only to find that it was so empty.

Escape was comforting to have as an option. This way, even if she did or said something embarrassing, she could leave. Then she wouldn't have to face him again. This gave her courage to stay. So when evening came and she awaited him in her small generic room, she wondered what decision the end of the evening would bring: stay or leave?

Once again, she heard the 'shave and a haircut' knock at the door. She peaked out the peephole and asked.

"Who is it?"

"You learn fast." He said. She opened to door and knocked twice. He chuckled and stepped in. She turned to the teapot and he knew that was his signal to disrobe from his NightWatcher costume. He did and took his place on the chair. Which, incidentally, was already turned the other way for him. She sat down and he opened the pizza box, handing her a slice first before taking one himself.

"Thank you," She said, taking the slice and eating it right away. The cheese stretching so she couldn't bite it off. He laughed and tore the cheese for her, forgetting that she wasn't one of his brother's and that it was typically impolite to touch someone else's food while they were eating it.

"Uh, sorry." He said, embarrassed.

"That's okay." She chewed. "You saved me from at least five more awkward minutes." He smiled and grabbed his own piece.

"So, you got questions ready?" She nodded, her mouth full. She put down the pizza and scrunched a napkin in her hand to catch the grease. She pulled up three piles of papers, choosing the middle one: Locations. She began to ask him questions and he answered them promptly. No need to think, he had the information at the ready. He was very impressed. Her questions were perfect. Delving deeper into what he had started, but her questions prompted answers that gave clarity and definition that had been lacking. She was sieving information from him in a controlled and organized process. Her mind was very detailed and intuitive.

She was writing furiously and had taken a haphazard bite from her pizza. Sauce oozed onto her cheek, but she clearly didn't want to stop writing and lose her thought. He watched it start to drip and it was about to fall from her chin onto her shirt when Raphael took his napkin and dabbed at her face. She finished writing and he tried to put the napkin down as if nothing weird had just happened.

"It was going to drip on your shirt." He explained automatically. "Pizza sauce can be a pain to clean. Trust me, I know…" She nodded.

"Thanks," Two things flew through her mind instantly. Once again, it was a small thing that she gave great importance to. First, he did something nice for her; just a thoughtful thing to prevent a stain. Second, and more importantly, he had invaded her personal space and she was not afraid. She had never allowed anyone outside of the medical profession to touch her in such a manner. The face was such an intimate area. She had seen it in movies. The cheek and the chin were touched gently by lovers to show affection and to caress for other purposes. While smudging pizza sauce was decidedly not a romantic motive, the result was the same. She was touched. She became aware that once again, their knees were touching. She could feel his coolness against her blushing heat of embarrassment. She felt her face flush violently and she stood under the precept of organizing her papers that she had let slip to the floor.

Raphael had not missed a detail. Her body temperature shot up, her face turned fire engine red and she became jittery, anxious. He had crossed the line and he hadn't even realized it. He stood only to kneel down and help her gather papers.

"I'm sorry." He said. "Maybe I should go." Go? No! She was making such a mess of this.

"Do you want to go?" She asked. Hoping he would say something like, 'no, I never want to leave' or something romantic like 'only if you come with me'. Instead he said,

"Maybe I should. It's gettin' late, you have work in the morning and I have practice." She tried to hide her disappointment.

"Okay. I can organize these. I actually think I have enough." Great, he thought. Now I'll never see her again. I just lost my only excuse to drop by.

"Oh, that's great. Glad I could give you enough material."

"Yeah."

"Well, take it easy." He said. He went over to the bed and pulled on his outfit. He picked up his helmet and turned to her.

This was it. He was leaving! Gone forever? The sudden notion of never seeing him again started to give her a small panic attack. She knew she was on the brink of doing something either hysterical or extreme, but she didn't know which way it would go. If he salutes me, I'm going to lose it, she thought. He gave her a big friendly smile and gave her a two fingered salute. She closed her eyes. He was getting ready to say 'G'night', when he saw her walk up to him and without stopping kissed him on his mouth.

He was so startled, he didn't kiss back. She pulled away, shocked at herself, but also discouraged that it wasn't returned. She started to turn away, when he suddenly put his hand on her face to turn her back. He felt her cheek burn, but she turned to him willingly enough. He gazed at her a moment and brushed the hair from her face as he had so often wanted to do, then kissed her back. She put her arms around his neck and then the kiss ended. She tucked her face into his neck and he hugged her tightly against him.

"Darielle." She exhaled as he said her name for the first time since they had met. They held each other for a while. Basking in the new knowledge that they shared the same affection for each other. There was nothing so rewarding.

"I don't want you to go." She whispered. "I didn't mean for you to go."

"I didn't want to. I thought…well, let's just say I was way off, okay?" She pulled away and smiled sadly.

"I think maybe we both were." They both chuckled awkwardly, unsure what to do now. He looked at the clock.

"You really do have to get some sleep. I really should leave. You gotta work early." She was very tempted to ask him to stay. She didn't want him to leave, but she also didn't want him to get the wrong impression. While she very much wanted to lay next to him and sleep, she was also afraid to. Inviting anyone to her bed was simply not an option. Regardless of the intent, the intimacy was too high.

"Well, how 'bout this? You go to sleep and I'll stop by tomorrow or…today," he said glancing at the clock again. "And maybe we can talk about other things."

"Other things?" She asked, unsure.

"Yeah, I wanna know everythin' about you. Favorite color, where you went to school, how you got into speechwriting…everythin'. We'll take turns interviewin' each other, whaddya say?"

"I think I'd like that." He reached for his helmet, apparently he had dropped it in his haste to hold her.

"G'night."

"Good night."