Fancy trekked downstairs, rubbing her eyes and tugging at the bottom of the oversized tee she had put on to sleep in. She walked to the kitchen from memory, her eyes still half closed. Her hair was still rumpled and all of her make-up had been washed off, making her look very young.

Styxx looked up at her, frozen by the sight she presented. Her long legs were perfectly tapered, and her young face was beautiful and inviting.

She plopped into a seat. "Tofu can make you gay."

Styxx was snapped out of his trance by this odd comment. "What?"

"Tofu can make you gay," she repeated. "It has traces of estrogen that can alter the male make-up."

Styxx nodded. "Interesting. What do you want for breakfast?"

She looked up at him, bleary-eyed. "It's noon."

"Then lunch?"

She laughed. "Whatever you've got to eat. I'm easy." Her green eyes glinted teasingly at the double entendre.

Styxx shook his head, sliding a plate of fresh fruit towards her. "Help yourself to whatever."

She popped half of a strawberry in her mouth before standing and searching his cupboards. She found Cap'n Crunch and poured a large bowlful. She ate it dry with the fresh fruit.

"Is that good?" Styxx asked.

Fancy nodded. She offered the bowl to him. He frowned at her, taking a handful and a piece of cantaloupe. She watched him eat it, and watched the myriad of expressions cross his face. She choked on her laughter. "Acquired taste," she choked out.

He nodded. "Odd."

She smiled at him. When she finished eating, she said, "I have to go back."

Styxx nodded. "I know."

Neither of them moved.

"I really should go."

"I know."

Still motionless.

"Why are we still sitting here?"

Styxx shrugged, still watching her.

She stood, walking around the table to him. She reached out and cupped his face, stroking his lips with her thumb. Hunger glittered in her eyes. He stood, standing barely an inch from her. Her hand didn't leave his cheek, still tracing his lips. He could see the awe and confusion in her eyes, and it didn't make sense to him.

She stretched up onto her toes and pressed her lips gently to his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her just as gently. She broke away, her green eyes searching his blue ones. She shook her head, tuning away. "I don't understand," she murmured, running from the room.

Styxx fell back into the chair he'd recently vacated. He understood her confusion now; she'd never been with anyone who hadn't demanded she warm his bed. His emotions were raging, part of him wanting to go after her, the other wanting to let her come to him again. He cursed silently at himself.

Fancy pressed her back to the wall of the bedroom. She rubbed her hands hard over her face. She couldn't be attracted to him… her job doesn't allow it. She let out a long sigh, changing back into her dress and redoing her make-up. She looked exactly how she had when Styxx had found her when she went back downstairs.

Styxx looked up as Fancy walked back into the kitchen. Her eyes were empty. "I have to go, Styxx." Her walls were up.

Styxx stood. "Please, Fancy," he whispered. "Please stay."

He saw her eyes melt infinitesimally. "I have to go back during the day. Maybe tonight…" Come find me, she thought.

He reached out to her, but she took a step back. He let his arm drop. "I'll take you back," he murmured, leading the way back to the garage. They slid silently into the Mustang and Styxx drove down to where she had her apartment.

"Thanks, Styxx," she murmured, subconsciously tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're a good guy."

Styxx smiled halfheartedly. "At least one of us thinks so," he said softly.

She returned the smile. "Nice meeting you." She turned to go.

"Fancy?"

She paused.

"Eight o'clock tonight. Look for this car. Don't leave. I promise I'll be back."

She turned and smiled blindingly at him. "Thanks, Styxx," she whispered, returning to the car. She bent over the door and kissed his cheek. "I'll be waiting." She skipped to the apartment front and looked back. She blew him a kiss before disappearing.

Styxx drove back, smiling to himself. Fancy was a good influence, after all. Who would have guessed?