The déjà vu girl hesitated in front of his open door long enough to assure him she wasn't completely insane. Then, she kept a careful distance behind him as he turned on the lights and showed her to his couch, pulling off an old blanket that showed a Chinese dragon made of fuzz. One of those street side fuzzy blanket vendor deals. She also did some healthy hesitation before collapsing into the couch and allowing him to encompass her with dragon fuzz.

"You're going to be okay," he murmured as gently as he could, aware of how fragile she had become.

Leaving only a lamp on so as to keep some soothing level of darkness to the room, he went to the kitchen and started warming up a cup of milk with a few drops of honey. Since she had a sweet tooth, and this was the most natural nerve cure he knew—

Her voice burbled from the couch. He left the microwave to get into hearing range.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Thank you," she said, eyes still wide and to the floor.

"Nothing special. Just doing my job."

He caught a faint shadow of a smile from her before returning to a beeping microwave. He gave it a few stirs, then crossed the short distance from his kitchen to the living room, where he placed it on the nightstand closest to her.

"This should help settle your stomach and calm you down," he said. "Just some milk and honey."

She nodded to show she had heard. Her clasped hands in her lap had those white, bold tendons sticking out again.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, and sat himself on the coffee table in front of her. He already had an idea of what he was dealing with, but that didn't change the fact he had a beautiful girl who shouldn't be as alone as she implied having a break down on his couch.

"Don't worry about your boss," he said, leaning his hands off his thighs.

Her chin snapped up to give him an alarmed, incredulous look.

"She knows I talk to Margaret," she said. "She knows…the look she gave me today—and there was a car—"

"—that followed you from work?" he guessed, making her stare again. He shrugged. "Why else would you come to a bar when you're obviously not a drinker and are afraid to go home? It was probably the first public, crowded place you saw. You're car still there?"

She nodded. "I just sort of panicked."

"Figured. You work at that big-ass office building three blocks South, right? Intel or Sprint?"

"Intel." She blinked her wide eyes at him. "You're incredible."

"Just using my brain. Part of my job."

The tremulous smile she gave him said she was having none of that.

"You're kind of reaching neighborhood hero status," she said, reaching for the warm mug he had brought and bringing it to her nose for a sniff.

"And you're disturbingly trusting. Not that I'm going to do anything to you, but are you sure you don't have any friends or family around?"

Her nose lingered over the brim of the mug a she answered. "My family live three hours North in Main, and any friends I have, well, they work with me. I can't…risk them."

"That bad, huh?" But that was to be expected with this particular supernatural being, who also had managed to get her hands on a little power.

She nodded and took a tentative sip of the milk.

"So sweet," she breathed, and her eyes finally relaxed, drooping even. "It's okay. Somehow I just know I can trust you, Mr. Meliodas. I've, um, kinda learned to trust those feelings over the years."

The sound of his name from her gave him an involuntary shiver. Not the best sign for one trying to stay back as a neutral party. Though it did strike him as peculiar. He hadn't had much interest in women since, well, two hundred years or so. Yeah they were nice to look at and sometimes touch if he got the chance, but that's where his interest ended. To have just his name in her voice causing such a reaction…

Maybe he should have called someone else to take her home.

"I just realized, I don't think I got your name," he said, leaning forward and unintentionally catching a whiff of her hair, womanly and Herbal Essence.

"Elizabeth Liones," she said before taking a sip and practically melting back into his couch.

"Elizabeth," he repeated, deciding he liked the taste of it on his tongue. "Why didn't you go to the police?"

"It seemed a bad idea," she said between sips. "Something is off about this, and if she's as good at hiding it as it seems, I'd probably just get in a worse situation going there. And I was being followed." The mug paused at her lips. Then her face snapped back up to him, suddenly alarmed. "Oh my god, I didn't mean—I must sound insane and you—you even went out of your way to help me—"

He raised a hand. "It's cool."

"No, no it isn't, I can't be bringing you…" she put down the mug, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

And before he could say anything about that, thick, river-like tears ran out from beneath her dark silver lashes.

"I'm so sorry, this is so wrong, I should have—I should have—"

"Not asked for help?" he asked incredulously. "Elizabeth, you came to my bar so scared you couldn't even think straight. You were so scared, you threw up, and I know it wasn't because of the drinks. Even a lightweight could have handled the minute amount of alcohol I put in them."

She put the mug back on the night stand and hid her face in her hands. "I still haven't paid you."

"Hush. It's nothing. Some juice and a sandwich isn't going to break anyone's bank."

She let out a shaking sigh that was half a sob, biting her lip. Without thinking, he pulled in the corners of the blanket about her more tightly.

"What…what am I going to do?"

"Probably pass out on my couch and wake up to face the day with a clearer head," he said, back to his usual chipperness. "Who knows? Maybe things will be a bit better tomorrow. Things change."

She just whimpered.

A rare pang ran through his chest, moving him to reach out and tuck that metallic smooth hair behind her ears.

"Just trust me on this one, and get some rest. Drink the milk, it will help, I promise."

She sniffed loudly. "When you talk like that, you sound so familiar."

"Well, I have been practicing my Bob Ross voice. Happy trees, happy trees."

That earned him a chuckle, albeit still a sad one. But she obeyed, returning the mug to her lips, her breathing a little shallow with hiccups.

He pushed off his knees and went to the front door.

"I'm gonna head back. You just get some rest, okay?"

She stared a little at that. "You're just going to…trust me?"

"I thought by now I would have impressed you with my barkeep intuition." He saluted with two fingers, flashing a cheesy grin. "Besides, I keep all my important stuff somewhere no one can get to. I fear no cute girls."

She flushed and quickly turned her attention back to her milk.

With that, and a twirl of his truck keys, he locked the door behind him and headed back down to the parking garage.