There was no need for questioning it further.

He, Andrew Blair, was in love.

The movies and music always made it seem so easy, though. Those mediums were hardly good representations of what would really happen when a person like himself was given such an ostensibly difficult task. He had become a little wiser since high school, sure, but that didn't mean he knew how to handle this type of situation. There was no manual to peruse on the subject, or even a chance to take notes. He was just making it up as he went along. Wasn't that kind of the point? To improvise? Andrew didn't know. As of right now, the waterfowl was marching the length of the spartan room, wings flailing emphatically through the air as he blabbered to himself.

"Rachel, I love…urgh…Rachel, I want you to be my girlf…Your eyes shine like the ocean…fuck, that's not going to work. Shine like the ocean? Really, Andrew?…Your smile makes me want to melt…Oh yeah, that's romantic. Nothing says romance like crane pancakes…Ew…Your eyes are like the brightest jewels…that could probably work…"

The person in question was, quite fortunately, taking a shower and couldn't hear him.

His turn had come to draw the short straw of conflicting feelings, and the coincidence was not lost on the bird. It was hard to believe only two days had past since Rachel had been struggling with the same inner turmoil. He wondered if this fell into the same category. Did she love him? The internal argument he'd had yesterday had long been thrown out the metaphorical window. He exhaled heavily in mid-pace. Logic could not be employed in this situation, and he couldn't trust that jazz music would follow through again with the impetus he so badly wanted to have.

He would have to do this without relying on that particular avenue.

"I can do this, sure. How hard can it be to just say three words? 'Rachel, I love…'"

"You love what?"

He twisted around wildly as his heart hammered in his chest. To cover his slip, his beak hastily formed into a crooked grin. "PANCAKES!" Rachel's eyebrows rose at his tone. "Heh heh. I love pancakes, especially when strawberries are added in between each one. I sometimes add a good portion of whipped cream and it's an instant a la mode piece. I have trouble deciding between almond milk and coconut milk to mix into the batter. I mean, is there really that much difference? They both grow from plants. Almond is much, much better in flavor, I think, because I've always loved to savor that nutty aftertaste, even after…"

"ANDREW!" she shouted.

Andrew stopped. "Ah…yes?"

She crossed her bathrobe attired arms. It was spookily reminiscent to the time they first met. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

He shook his head rapidly. "It can wait."

"You're sure?"

Cue bobble-head imitation. "Yeah. Trust me, it can wait."

"Okaaaay…" Rachel drawled. Her tone made it clear she wasn't about to let it go.

He slipped past her into the bathroom, then closed his eyes. Divesting his dirty clothing, he stepped into the shower, all while a string of self-deprecating obscenities echoed through his head.

—

Avians and adhesive would never coordinate well together. Case in point: the bandages that were wrapped around Andrew's torso managed to hold up very well to the shower water, but there was no changing the fact they were still damp. The task of changing the bandages would be a trying one. Even with the adhesive coating now slick from the water, he was bound to have some of his feathers plucked by pulling them off. He bit his tongue in anticipation as his wing moved to attempt the imminently painful process.

Only to breathe a sigh of relief when a knock came at the bathroom door. "Andrew? Can I come in?"

"Sure. Give me a second." He pulled on his boxers, and put the towel back on its hanger before opening the door. Then he gulped.

Rachel was standing in the opening, holding a roll of gauze in her paw. He discounted this fact almost immediately as he focused on the rest of her. The leopard had traded in her bathrobe for a sports bra and a pair of hip-hugging (gulp!) boy shorts. His mind screamed at him to 'Look away, you idiot! Have some dignity!', but his head didn't heed the order. Neither would his eyes stray from the sight of her lithe body. His tongue had an equal predicament as it seemed to have gotten tangled in his throat.

"I thought we could change your bandages," she said with a coy smile.

He just nodded, still aphasic.

How was it possible she had the ability to make him so bold at times and so flustered during others? It perplexed him to no degree. Andrew knew he would never get an answer to that, and knowing that it wouldn't happen filled his soul with a certain kind of euphoric anxiety. At least he thought that's what it was.

He couldn't help getting a whiff of Rachel's perfume as she leaned toward him. She smelled like lilac. She steered him in the direction of the bathtub and positioned him on the edge as she sat opposite on the toilet.

"Now, don't fidget." She held up a pair of scissors. "I'm going to have to slice through."

"What about…?" he gestured to her paws.

Her voice went cold, "Absolutely not. Scissors are blunt. My claws, on the other hand, are very sharp. If I tried cutting through the bandages with them, you'd be bleeding out all over the floor instead of just feeling a sharp poke in the midsection."

He could feel himself pale at the prospect. "I'll go with the scissors."

"Good boy," she said, and began cutting.

He worked hard not to shiver at her touch, so he kept himself distracted by closing his eyes and sitting completely still. It was probably the worst idea he could think of. Minute trembles kept erupting on his body as she took away the gauze. One paw stayed attached to his chest for support, and his heart thundered inside. She pulled the bandage away slowly, delicately. He felt the sting of it, but not as badly as he would have if he pulled it off on his own. Still, by the time she had finished, his body was burning, and not just from the disassembly. "Wait," he said to her as she unwrapped the new roll of gauze. At least he could look her in the eye again.

"What?"

"I…I do have something to tell you. Promise not to run away?"

Rachel smiled. "Andrew, where do you think I'd go? You're the one driving the car. Besides, I like being with you. You're the only guy I've met that wasn't a one night stand. Any time I tell someone what I do in the corps, they say 'geek' and run for the hills."

"That's a shame. They couldn't see how beautiful you…" he trailed off, blushing heavily.

"How beautiful I am? Is that what you were going to say?" she coaxed.

He sighed, then grinned nervously. "Yes." He reached to cover her limbs in his. "You're beautiful to me. I can't believe it's only been three days since we met, but I like to think that we have a connection, and however long it takes, I want to see it through. I...I think I'm in love with you, Rachel." He looked down at his feet. "I know, it's stupid, a bird in love with a cat, especially this soon, but I really do feel that way. I'm almost ready to thank Stephen for his interference, but I don't know if you feel the same way about me. Hell, maybe if I waited a little longer I could…"

His speech was cut off abruptly as his wings were tugged toward her. All the exchanges they had shared since the last day and a half were left in the dust as she delivered the most sizzling kiss on his beak. He shook off his shock before reciprocating with equal fervor, wrapping his wings around her abdomen.

The bandages lay scattered on the floor, forgotten by both.

—

"I hope that dispelled your doubts."

"Admirably." He nipped at her ear with his beak.

"Don't do that," she said, voice tight.

"Why not?" He felt utterly confident right now, and nipped again.

"Because…hehe…stop smiling."

"Are you ticklish?"

He could see the leopard in the dim light of the hotel room, head lolling on the pillow, eyes half-closed in serenity. Her mouth was closed, but he knew laughter was on the edge of slipping out, and he swiftly took advantage of the fact.

"Ahhh! Andy, stop! I'm warning you! I'll…hehehe!"

"You'll what? Giggle at me some more? I'm just winging it."

Both paused at the pun.

"Was that as bad as it sounded?"

"Oh yeah."

"I'll admit, bad choice of words."

"No pun intended?"

"Oh, you're a riot." He brushed a wing against her belly, and she stifled another giggle. "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go around the city for a bit. See the sights?"

"Maybe in an hour or two. I'm fine just being here."

He kissed her forehead. "We could check out today, if you really wanted. I don't know about you, but Omaha is definitely on my list of least favorite cities."

"Mine too, actually." Rachel sighed. "Give it an hour, then we'll get ready, but first…" She leaned in with a winsome smile, and they started again.

They exited the hotel four hours later, bags packed, feeling the spontaneous bedroom sessions have filled their peace of mind. They had to reapply the bandages after Andrew began feeling some strain when she laid her head on his stomach, killing any passionate atmosphere. Not that either minded; they could always try again. Preferably when his ribs had healed more.

They put their bags in the trunk, shuffling them before Andrew realized something. He decided to let it go, but Rachel asked, "What are you thinking about?" She had obviously seen the thoughtful look on his face.

"Stephen, actually. It was him I was talking to on the phone the other night. He admitted to spying on us, finally. Of course, that was only after I stopped sounding like a petulant child."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Did he have anything to do with us getting stonewalled for a hotel room?"

Andrew grimaced. "Yes."

"I'm going to kill him."

"Linda won't be happy," he said lightly.

"Tough. That dog's put me through enough trouble the last few days."

He raised his wing like a student in a classroom. "You're forgetting me, and I don't feel much like killing him as I wanted to a while ago."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, he led me to you. Need I say more?"

She smiled. "I suppose I could give him a little leeway, but…"

"Oh, don't you worry, I already have something special in mind. Let's get some lunch. I'll explain it to you on the way," he said, closing the trunk and offering her a wing.

She hooked her arm around it. "Lead on, good sir."

—

"I have to admit, it sounds interesting. Reward and punishment all at once," the leopard mused. "I'm sure Linda will be thrilled."

"That's what I'm hoping for."

They had just arrived at a rather eclectic restaurant five minutes east from the hotel. They weren't going back, so both elected to drive there. The Element's concierge highly recommended it. After the irritation of before, Andrew felt a little bad for the guy, and to correct it somehow Andrew asked for the best restaurant in town. Inwardly, he felt gratified: he was performing a kindness, even if he was the only one to see it that way. He was also taking Rachel for a proper date, unlike the impromptu bar brawl with the misogynistic Paul Bunyan wannabe. The past day sequestered in the hotel room had been absolutely wonderful, but both he and Rachel felt that it was time to move on to the next city.

"I've never actually met her at all," she said as they exit the car.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she chuckled, taking his wing again. "It was cute, though. Every time I tried to visit Stephen, when we were both at home, that is, he'd quote every debate from 'When Harry Met Sally…' to the letter. 'Men and women can't be friends' and all that other bullshit. Then he'd switch immediately to some obscure sci-fi reference he knew I wouldn't get."

Andrew groaned. "I know what you mean. That Star Wars reference I paraphrased back in Minneapolis? The results of watching the trilogy too many times. Not willingly, I might add. Anyway, go on."

"There's not much to tell. Stephen continued with the evasion until I forced him to tell me why I couldn't come over. That was when he told me about Linda. Back in '96, I think."

He nodded. "That's about when I met her. It wasn't too long after they hooked up that Stephen's pranks started to wind down. I'm amazed how much control she has over him."

Rachel gave him a pointed look.

The bird groaned again and laughed as the hospital room entered his memory. "Okay, I guess that was a tad hypocritical."

"Ya think?" Thankfully, it was only her tone that had the sarcastic pitch. Her face said that she was playing with him. She clutched his wing a little tighter.

The restaurant came into view. It was small compared to the buildings around it, including the fortress-like glass cage on the right. The structure was no more than two stories tall. To Andrew, it appeared terribly out of place: an archaic Chinese abode appropriate more for a domestic environment, but not for this tangible urban arena.

"Let's hope the food is as good as he said," Andrew commented as they entered.

The interior of the restaurant was entirely painted red, with curtains of the same color lining the tables above. The wooden floors and tables look incredibly expensive. He swore there was enough money invested in the tables to pay for twenty tanks of gas in his car, and probably more. They barely had any view of the ceiling at all, save for slivers of black-painted steel plates. The chandeliers hanging down were oval-shaped, mimicking the style of Chinese lanterns.

Rachel's eyes were wide as she took it in. "Never mind the food. I'm ready to hire a goddamn decorator."

Both looked down as a goose waddled their way. He addressed them in a rather flamboyant Chinese/American accent, "Welcome to O Dining & Lounge! I'm Mr. Kwok, host and owner of this restaurant. Table for two?"

Andrew at least managed to keep a straight look on his beak, though it was a hopeless battle when Rachel whispered in his ear, "Stereotype much?"

He prodded her stomach. "Uh, yes. Just us."

They were quickly seated, admiring the atmosphere. The scene was pretty lively, though he noticed many glances in their direction. "We must be the odd couple of the day."

She looked around, then, before he could even open his mouth to speak further, the leopard was sitting beside him, placing her head on his shoulder. "Let 'em look. I don't care who knows."

"But…"

"Chuck and Sophie made it work, didn't they?"

That effectively shot down any argument the waterfowl had. He chuckled before kissing her. "That they did." He waved a wing to the watchers, who hastily looked away. "I love you, Rachel." It was the first time he had said it without the 'I think' or stuttering up a storm, and he was a tiny bit shocked at himself, but he also felt as if a great weight had been displaced from his chest, and he knew he would never take those words back.

Rachel smiled mischievously. "I know," she said, and latched onto his mouth.