This is a conglomeration of the original second and third chapters, and of course a bit different at that. Don't forget to check visit-the-moon .tumblr .com and enjoy!

"Hello Lucy."

The girl jumped, looking up from the table she was wiping down. Her eyes landed on the black-haired man and she frowned.

"You're back?"

He smiled uncertainly and walked forward. "What, didn't miss me at all?"

She looked at him strangely. "What in anything I've said or done makes you think that I would especially miss you?"

"Well, then." He looked slightly disgruntled. "Did you think about where I'd gone?" A very unsafe question, but he was trying to get a more positive reaction out of the girl.

She shrugged, returning her attention to the table.

"You just up and left. I didn't know what to think."

He sat at the table, directly in front of her. She straightened with an aggravated sigh, her hands on her hips.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes, because I have to clean the table and you're on it!"

He lifted his arms off the surface.

"No, I meant are you mad at me for disappearing?"

"Why are you so concerned with what I felt about you leaving?"

"Harrison!"

The girl whipped around, almost losing her balance. She gripped the chair back.

"Yes?"

A broad-shouldered man frowned at her. "Get back to work, Harrison. Stop chatting with the customers."

She blushed. "Yes sir." Lucy returned to wiping, giving her visitor a discreet glare. He held his hands up in surrender, standing.

"I'll talk to you when your shift's over."

She groaned as he left. "Terrific."

She left the shop almost reluctantly, lingering to bid her employer goodbye. She wound her scarf around her neck, scanning the street.

Even though she was expecting it, she gasped, her hand flying to her chest when he popped out of seemingly nowhere. He smiled brightly at her.

"Done with work?"

"Clearly." She looked grumpily at him. His smile flickered but didn't disappear.

"Do you have any plans tonight?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"It's a yes or no question," he prompted gently.

"No."

"May I ask you out?"

She made a face. "You may ask, but I can't guarantee the answer."

He stepped in front of her suddenly, halting her path. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Lucy, come on," he wheedled. "Please?"

She frowned, his pleading smile chipping away at her resolve. Eventually she sighed, letting her hands drop in defeat. "Fine."

His smile could have given the sun competition for its brightness. She blinked, shocked by the sheer happiness that shone on his face.

"All I did was say yes," she muttered, tearing her eyes from his expression. She suddenly thought of something. "But!" He looked curiously at her. "No fancy restaurants."

He wilted slightly. "But where else are we supposed to go?"

She stared at him incredulously. "There are tons of other things to do."

"Like what?"

She gestured around them. "Walking in the park. A museum. I don't know, be creative!"

"Hm…" His eyes grew distant. Blinking, his focus returned to her with a smile. "So can I pick you up tonight?"

She frowned at him warily, burying her chin in her scarf. "You don't know where I live."

"I could find it if you told me the address," he hinted happily.

She chewed on her lower lip, watching him. He maintained the cheerful expression and she eventually sighed. "Fine."

He nodded in concentration as she told him her address.

"You don't have to write it down?" she asked doubtfully. He shook his head.

"Got it all up here." He tapped his forehead with a gloved finger.

"Okay." She still didn't look convinced. "So what are we going to do now?"

"You're going to go home. And I'm going to pick you up at seven."

She looked amused at his directions, which he took as a good sign. Better than her usual annoyance, at least.

"Alright. Bye."

"See you tonight."

He watched her walk away before turning and sprinting through Central Park.

"Excuse me, sir, this is a private apartment building."

The elderly doorman stepped out from behind the desk.

"Oh, yes, I'm here to see someone."

"May I ask whom?"

"Lucy Harrison."

"Oh." The doorman inspected him with a curious expression. "Then I apologize, please." He gestured for the tall man to pass.

"Thank you." He stepped into the elevator and watched the doorman return to his place at the desk. What an odd reaction, he thought absently. She must not have guests often.

Locating her door was easy enough with the large brass numbers. He knocked and stepped back. He heard footsteps and a pause, presumably for looking through the peephole, and then the door opened.

Lucy buttoned her jacket and looked up expectantly.

"Well? Where are we going?"

"Just follow me."

She watched his enthusiastic expression warily.

"What are we doing?"

"You'll see."

Once in the lobby, she waved goodbye to the doorman and followed him into the night air.

"Seriously, what are we doing?"

He sighed dramatically. "You will not stop, will you?"

"Nope." She stared stubbornly up at him.

"Fine." He looked at the sky, smiling. "We're going to dinner."

"Not at a restaurant?"

"Nope." He grinned at her.

"Then where?"

"Somewhere else."

He merely smiled in response to her annoyed glance.

"You're irritating."

"So you've said."

She followed him as he walked confidently down the darkening New York streets.

"Where are we going?" she asked insistently.

"Here."

He stopped her in front an apartment complex. Unlike Lucy's, this one was clearly a luxury building. She eyed it uncertainly.

"What is this?"

"It's a building."

She stared flatly at him. "Why are we here?"

Not answering, he held the door open for her. The man at the desk ran out to take the door, but he waved the man off. Lucy stepped inside, looking up at him apprehensively.

He followed her in, letting the door shut behind them. The doorman bowed quickly.

"I'm sorry Mr. Merchado, I didn't expect you to come by this evening…"

"Doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "I don't need anything."

"Of course. Have a good night, sir."

He touched Lucy's back lightly, and she jumped. He pulled his hand away quickly, muttering an apology. He pushed the elevator button and beckoned to her when the doors opened with a light ting.

"Where are we going?" Her voice was tight with anxiety and he glanced at her.

"You'll see." He smiled hopefully at her. "Why don't you trust me at all?"

She looked up at him hesitantly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

He beamed at her. "So you are. Oh, here we are!"

The doors opened with another chime and he walked backward out onto the roof, gesturing around with a dramatic flair. Her eyes widened as she slowly stepped out of the elevator, taking in the scene.

Small globes of light hung on every wall, softly illuminating the table set with two plates and a silver dome, presumable hiding the meal. Music emanated gently from somewhere, mimicking the atmosphere of an expensive restaurant.

She turned her incredulous gaze on the scene's mastermind. He was watching her reaction carefully, but when he saw her face, beamed at her.

"Do you like it? I didn't spend a penny."

"I…" Her eyes swept the roof again. "It's…amazing."

Somehow his face managed to light up even more.

"Well, are you hungry?"

Lucy walked forward, still appearing to be in a daze, and sat in the chair he pulled out for her. She looked up at him as he sat. He watched her with a concerned expression and waved his hand in front of her face.

"Lucy? Hello? Are you okay?"

She blinked and gave him a sour look. "I'm fine."

He grinned. "Ah, back to your old self."

She made a face at him, then looked down at the delicate plate.

"What's for dinner?"

"Well that depends." He grinned mysteriously at her.

She looked curiously at him. "On what?"

"On what you think is under this." He curled his fingers around the cover.

"You cannot possibly expect me to guess correctly."

"If you won't guess, we don't get dinner." Bright white teeth flashed at her in a cheeky smile. She stared at him skeptically.

"Really?"

He didn't respond. She sighed heavily.

"Fine. Um, lasagna?"

He lifted the cover to reveal a casserole dish full of steaming lasagna. Her eyes widened.

"Wait, what? Really?"

His smile widened. "No, I just magically appeared this platter as soon as you guessed so you would have exactly what you wanted."

She rolled her eyes. "You just had to ruin it, didn't you?"

He inspected the lasagna. "I don't know, it still looks pretty good to me. Have a bite and tell me if it's any good."

She gave him an exasperated expression, but the corner of her mouth pulled up.

She took the spatula and deposited a serving on her plate. He watched her carefully as she cut a tiny portion and placed it in her mouth. She tilted her head, chewing slowly.

"Hm."

"What does that mean?"

She couldn't help but smile at his anxious expression. "This is…"

"Is it okay?"

The girl grinned as she drew out her review. "It's…alright."

"Alright?"

She laughed. "Fine, it's good. It's very good. Congratulations."

He beamed at her. "Why thank you." He spooned a serving onto his plate and began to eat.

"Mm."

Lucy looked up. "What?"

"This is good."

She shook her head in amusement. "Alright, you've made your point. But," she gestured around at the myriad of lights, "why all this?"

He followed the movement of her hand. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you do all of this?"

"Because you pretty much forbid me from doing anything else."

She made a face. "All I said was no fancy restaurants."

"Yeah," he protested, "that's nearly every date I had planned!"

"Wow." Her voice was flat. "You are very creative."

"Well we can't all be amazing photographers, now can we?"

She frowned. "I'm not an amazing photographer. I'm an art student. And that's not what I meant and you know it."

"No." He sighed. "It's just…that's what I wanted to do. I wanted to do something for you that you can't do for yourself."

The girl flushed angrily. "I don't need to go to fancy expensive restaurants to have a good time. I can care for myself perfectly well, thank you very much."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that." He backpedaled quickly. "I just meant that I wanted to treat you to something. I'm not insinuating anything…" He stared anxiously at her, praying for her to stay. She met his gaze, her cheeks slowly returning to their normal color as she assessed him.

"Fine." She answered his silent question shortly. He smiled, but the smile was tainted by the apprehensive expression in his eyes. She picked up her fork, frowning at the lasagna.

"I'm sorry."

She glanced up, her angry eyes softening just a bit, just enough to give him hope.

"Don't apologize," she said faintly, looking back down at her plate.

"Lucy, you didn't originally live in New York, right?"

She looked up sharply, taken aback by the unexpected question. "Um, no. Why?"

"Just…thinking." He was actually wondering about her (as much as she tried to hide it) sweet disposition, and how uncharacteristic it was of a New Yorker. "Why'd you move here?"

Her eyes were still wide and startled, giving her the appearance of a frightened animal. She wrestled a neutral expression onto her face.

"Oh, Parson's mostly."

"What else was there?"

She bit her lip, looking back down to her fork. "Family stuff, that's all."

"Okay." It was obvious that there was more to her story, but he wouldn't pry. After all, he'd just had a close call and once was enough for him. "What's your favorite color?"

She looked amused at the sudden question. "Blue. Why?"

He shrugged, his bright blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "No reason. What's your favorite book?"

She tilted her head, thinking. "I don't have a particular favorite. What's yours?" she challenged.

He had to grin. "I can't say I have a single one either. What was your favorite subject in school? Besides art."

"History." Her answer was immediate.

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "How come?"

"I just like the vast amount of diversity in the world, and history kind of packs all of that into one class."

"What's your favorite time period?"

"Ancient Greece, I guess."

He froze, the curious smile fixed on his face. This was dangerous territory.

"Really? Why?"

"The art. And they were very creative, what with the gods and all."

He relaxed. Okay. So she didn't have any inkling at all. Thank the heavens.

"It's interesting, actually, how many people look similar to the statues and pictures that the Greeks made." She looked contemplatively at him. "You, for example."

He froze again.

"You remind me of one statue I saw…" She frowned, pointing her fork at him. "I can't remember which one but I swear there was one that looked like you." She eyed him a bit longer before turning her attention back to her pasta. "Oh well. Maybe I'm crazy."

He laughed, but the laugh came out nervous and unnatural. "Yeah, we all see things from time to time."

She looked up, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." He gathered his wits and beamed at her. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"Dunno." She blinked and returned her gaze to her plate. "You just sounded kind of…freaked out." She glanced up.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You sound like your normal, ineloquent self."

He made a face and she laughed.

"Just so you know, I'm usually considered extremely eloquent."

"Mm," she murmured doubtfully, a smile playing around her lips. "I'm sure."

"I can be," he grumbled. "It's your fault."

"My fault? Why is it my fault?"

"You're very distracting."

"Well I can leave now if that helps."

"No, no!"

She grinned at his hurried exclamation. "Alright then. Stop complaining."

He returned the smile. "Never."

The girl rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."

"Perhaps." His grin widened. "But you don't mind."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows. "And since when did you decide that?"

"Since you started laughing at my jokes." He smirked at her. She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing and ate a bite of lasagna. His smirk turned to a gentle smile as he watched her. "Thank you." This was said softly, so softly he didn't know if she heard until she looked up.

"Why?"

"For putting up with me." He made a face. "I know you don't want to."

She hesitated, biting her lip. "No. I don't…mind. Not anymore."

He beamed.

"But I would like to know one thing."

"What?"

"What are you not telling me?"

His heart stopped. "What? What do you mean?"

"I can tell you aren't telling me everything. Not that you've really told me anything, but I feel like you're…hiding something."

"How—I…" He gaped at her. How could she tell?

"I just…I want to know why." Her eyes questioned him and he found a glint of mistrust in them.

His mouth opened and closed as he tried desperately to think of something to say. But his cleverness had abandoned him and he could only think of the truth. Was she worth it? Was this girl worth the risk that came with revealing himself? Or could he leave, right then, and never see her? Could he do that to preserve his secret?

"Please forgive me," he whispered.

I know there are some incongruencies in the next chapter, so bear with me as I fix it. Hopefully it will be the last rewrite until the end of the story.