Fur as soft as bird's down found its way under his offered fingers. As if this were a trigger, he automatically began to move his hand down his cat's back, smiling as her spine arched to meet it. The motion was instinctual, something he did so often that on occasion he found himself doing it without realizing.
Maneki's pleasure was contagious. As she purred in contentment in his lap, he too felt the stirrings of enjoyment, as if someone were also petting him. He smiled and closed his eyes, resting his head back on the wall he lay propped against.
After running around in a nearby field for the sheer heck of it all afternoon, chasing bugs and rolling in the grass, the two of them were bushed. It felt nice to lay back and relax.
The village they were in was unfamiliar to him; he didn't know the name of it, though he had visited it on more than one occasion. All that mattered was that it was quiet, not bustling with hundreds of people. Not to mention that the weather was perfect: clear skies with no sweltering heat, a light breeze. And the building they were currently resting by was closed for the evening, leaving the two of them alone and undisturbed, except for the occasional villagers that passed by, but they paid no attention to the shirtless man and his cat.
<Today,> he mentally sent to Maneki, <was a good day.> For a response, Maneki's purr grew louder.
She had spent too long hiding away in Iris's wagon, avoiding the world outside the safe haven on the circus. But she couldn't hide forever and she didn't want to either. There was a whole world out there and she wasn't going to cower from it.
She wasn't performing today, so her clothes were simple and plain, her hair a rather complicated braid to eat up some of its length. Her feet were mostly healed back up, but she still walked a little delicately, limping slightly.
But food was needed and so she set out to pick up something to make for dinner. Nothing too fancy, she didn't have much money, but she just miiiigh splurge on some bacon or maybe some chicken. Assuming she could get a good price on it. It was a little late, but there had been a lot to do to set up the wagons and Liadan just hopped she wasn't too late to buy anything.
Stepping through the streets, she noticed a very pretty cat, a coloration she hadn't seen much of before. It was curled around some man, though Liadan found the cat much prettier.
As he continued to pet Maneki, Monnayage drove all other thoughts from his mind. Her fur was soft, comforting as it smoothed beneath his touch. He always made sure to stroke it in the direction that her fur naturally grew, since she hated having it ruffled or otherwise made unkempt in any way.
<Monnayage.> Maneki's thoughts came bidden into his otherwise emptied mind.
"Hm?"
<There's a woman staring at us.>
<Is she good-looking?> he teased. But when the cat failed to answer him, he opened his eyes and looked around.
Had he less manners his jaw would have dropped. Instead he simply stared—which, when he thought about it, was just as rude, but he couldn't help it. The woman Maneki had been talking about, and it most assuredly was this woman since she was the only person staring at him and his cat, had wings.
<What are those ugly things on her back?> Maneki asked. <Are those wings?>
He didn't answer, though, instead lifting Maneki out of his lap and putting her on the ground—much to her dislike—and then walking toward the stranger. His eyes had not left her the entire time he'd done this, being too transfixed.
Wings! He'd never seen anything so beautiful. He had to get a closer look.
Liadan noticed the man staring, and while she wanted to get annoyed, she knew that wasn't fair. She had been staring at his beautiful cat, so she couldn't say anything. And when she had a huge wingspan, she got a lot of looks. But it was still annoying.
Liadan put a hand on her hip, staring back, "Enjoying the look? Yes, they are wings. No, I can't fly."
Wings! Just the sight of them sent his heart jumping with exhilaration. He wanted to touch them, to examine every inch of them. Were they more like a falcon's, thin and tapered, or more like an eagle's, which were broad and wide-spread? Were the feathers more similar to human hair, or made from the keratin found in other avian figures?
Even with scientific fascination aside, they were gorgeous. He couldn't understand the bitterness in her tone when she spoke of them, as if they were a burden to her. With or without flight being open to her, he would have traded almost anything to have a set of his own.
Pushing away his passionate reveling, he stopped just short of the stranger and smiled at her. Then he broke into a low and respectful bow. "While the view is quite wonderful. . ." He straightened. "I couldn't help but notice the fascination you had in my cat. You seem as engaged in her as I am in you."
Maneki brushed against his pant leg before situating herself between his feet. He could feel her pleasure in the idea of being admired by someone, and it brought a feeling of pride that was not his own to his bosom. The cat was so full of herself--a trait he secretly shared.
Liadan blushed just a little, not thrilled her staring had been noticed. But she always had a soft spot for animals, cats were the worst. Something about an animal that was so cute and would never love you just appealed to some masochistic part of her.
"Ah, yes. I hadn't meant to stare, I've just never seen one like her before. That coloring is beautiful."
From below, Maneki started to purr, her ego being fed at such a pace that her egotism bled into his own feelings. He found himself practically puffing up under the attention that wasn't even his.
Trying to push these feelings away, he cleared his throat--hoping he wouldn't start purring as well. He continued to smile. "She's a Siamese," he said. "And her name's Maneki."
He'd often heard that having a dog attracted women to a person, but he begged to differ. It helped that Maneki was gorgeous like him. Women seemed to like that.
"And I can say the exact same thing that you have in apology for my own staring. Your wings are . . . are beautiful."
"May I pet her?" Liadan squatted down, reaching out carefully to the cat, the tips of her wings dragging in the dirt.
"Ah yes. They are very pretty, I'll agree with that. But they are a horrible inconvenience."
Maneki was already submitting herself to the outstretched hand, back arched in welcome against it, before Monnayage even had a chance to say anything. Her purring increased in volume, a loud motor of ecstasy and approval that hummed through the air. He had a hard time concentrating on what the girl was saying through the sensation of her hand on his cat and the pure rapture she was feeling from it.
"I . . . ah . . . Yes," he said, not really having any idea what he'd just said yes to. He felt a broad grin on his face and couldn't remember it having become so big in the last few seconds. "Very pretty."
Damnit. Why did this always have to happen when someone was petting Maneki? He'd have thought that after two years he'd have gotten the magic under control, but no. His cat's emotions were flooding in with his far faster than he could handle.
<I like her,> Maneki said, to which he couldn't help but nod in agreement despite himself, as if he'd been the one to say it and he were now consenting with himself. <Even if she does have ugly wings.>
"Mm . . . ugly." He was nodding again. Then with a jolt of horror he realized what he'd said and quickly amended with, "Ah, an ugly assumption, to see them as an inconvenience. Their beauty alone makes them opportune." What was he saying?
"You obviously have never tried to use a privy with a set of giant wings on your back." Or done any number of tasks that made her want to scream in frustration. Places weren't made to accommodate her massive wings. They knocked things over and just generally drove her nuts.
Liadan's fingers worked under Maneki's chin, smiling down at the beautiful cat, "I would give you the damn things if I could." Everyone always did that. Gushed about how beautiful her wings were and how they would love to have them. She bet they would give them back after a few hours.
The girl's words were lost to him then. The moment her hands went to Maneki's chin, one of the cat's most favorite spots, he was lost. He should have stopped her, should have said no to petting Maneki, but the cat had been too fast for him.
"Oh," he said, his voice distant to his ears. He stood there motionless, staring off into space. "Oh, yes. Give . . . them."
Maneki pointed her head upward to make it easier for the stranger to pet her. Her purring seemed to become so loud that it made his own throat pulsate, until he realized vaguely that he was doing it as well. It make him blink several times in confusion. <Maneki . . .>
But the cat wasn't listening to him, caught up in her own bliss. Not that she would have cared, a familiar voice reminded him. She was as greedy as ever, and when someone gave her this sort of attention, she would not let them stop.
"You should . . ." He struggled for words between his own purring sounds. "Probably . . . not . . ." Not what? Not what? Oh, Kia, it felt so good.
Liadan stared at the man, a little creeped out by his reaction. Her fingers slowed on the cat's chin, "Um...what...are you doing?"
As her attention on Maneki slowed, he found himself coming out of a haze. "Doing?" he repeated, blinking some more. He gave a little shiver.
What was he doing?
And then the understanding hit him like a bag of rocks. "Oh!" Horrified, he looked down at her, gaze coming to rest on her stroking fingers. Maneki was looking at him warningly.
<No,> she said firmly. She mewed softly, paw batting at the girl's arm as she tried to get her to continue. But now that he had some control back, he couldn't let that continue.
Though she hissed at him when he bent down and though she raked her claws across his arm, leaving four deep gashes that made him wince, he still lifted her up off the ground as quickly as he could. The euphoria from before was flooding out of him, leaving outrage and horror in its wake. By now the purring had stopped completely.
"I was, ah . . . Ouch!" Maneki had caught him across the face with her paw, a horrible stinging now left where it had been. Caught off guard, he dropped her as he went to touch the new scratch, and she ran to sit at the girl's feet, glaring death at him. "Maneki!"
She'd attacked him before, but never on the face! That was off limits! It was deep, too, already bleeding onto his grasping fingers. Now he had a bleeding arm and a bleeding face. How ugly he must look, now!
<I was enjoying myself,> Maneki said with no remorse. He'd hurt her pride; he could feel it through their link. Lifting her like he had.
But his face! His beautiful face! He was speechless.
So was Liadan. She took a step back from the man, eyes wide, "Uh, well, um, you should get that looked at. And I uh...hear someone calling. So, it was lovely to meet you, you have a beautiful cat." And if you come near me, I'll kick you so hard you'll never have children again.
"No, wait!" he pleaded, half-inclined to go find the nearest healer, half-inclined to try and redeem himself. His arm and face ached, his pride as well--though he had a feeling part of that was Maneki, not him.
<Look what you've done,> Maneki said as the girl started to back away. <She liked me.>
"I'll strangle you later." This was not turning out as he'd first planned. Blood was not a way to a woman's heart, nor was purring like an idiot for no apparent reason. He must have come off as a lunatic to her.
He cupped his sleeve to his arm, soaking in the blood that was gathering there, then turned his attention back to the winged woman. "Let me explain myself!"
Though why she would want to talk to him now that he was ugly was beyond him, but he couldn't let her run off thinking him a crazy man. That just didn't do well with his ego.
"Strangle?!" Liadan had enough bad experiences scary men to last her a life time and now another was showing up. She took a few more quick steps back, "Don't you come anywhere near me!"
Her wings flared wide, an instinctual response to Monnayage's threat.
He stopped in his tracks. "Wha--strangle? No. No! I was talking to Maneki. My cat!" He pointed furiously at his familiar, who pulled her ears back and hissed at him.
Why? Why? He couldn't remember a situation ever getting this horribly out of line.
"Listen," he said, lowering his tone to sound more reasonable. "I know this all seems strange to--"
His walk forward was halted as a flare of white filled his vision. Maneki yowled loudly and scampered away, her steps so quick he couldn't catch where she'd gone.
Oh. Kia, they were beautiful. Left speechless, all he could do was stare at the girl's wings, cringing a little at the cornered look she was giving.
When he finally found his tongue, he shook his head. "Maneki's my familiar," he tried to explain. "I'm a mage. She and I . . . share things." Did this girl even know what a familiar was?
Ah, damned to hell. That would make things difficult. She already looked ready to kill him. He couldn't see any way out of this.
Liadan kept the basket between her and the crazy man, eyes wide. Panic was flooding her and she hated it. Hated the cringing fear some strange man was making her feel. Hands gripping the basket, she did her best to remain calm, to not let it beat her.
Her wings slowly folded back in, though a strength of will power, "Oh really? And that's why you are acting like a pervert?"
A pervert?! That was a low blow!
"I wasn't acting like a pervert!" he protested, all thoughts of scratches and pain gone. Sure, he'd been purring like an idiot, but that didn't make him pervert! It wasn't his fault that her fingers felt so . . . so nice.
Frustration wasn't going to get him anywhere. Despite the insult to his virtue--well, okay. He could be perverted at times, but he hadn't been this time--he had to stay calm.
Taking another deep breath, he tried again. "I don't normally let people pet Maneki," he explained, arms out in sign of non-hostility, blood dripping down onto the dirt below. "She was too quick for me, though. When people pet her, I can . . . I can feel it, too."
He felt a blush rising to his cheeks, then. Maybe he'd admitted too much with that last bit. "So . . . ah . . . I . . ." He didn't know how to continue, already feeling hot around the neck.
Well, that just made her feel dirty. Liadan's cheeks flushed and if looks could kill, Monnayage would be very dead, "So you just stood around while I was indirectly petting you? I feel like I should demand money for services rendered."
Liadan knew she was over reacting, she knew it. She could feel it, but that damned fear, that remembrance of the other man kept her from lowering her guard.
"I tried to tell you to stop," he said, flustered. Words never came easy when he was flooding with both his own emotions and those of his cat's. He couldn't remember what he'd said, but he was quite certain whatever it was had been along the lines of making her cease. Even if he hadn't exactly wanted her to. "And I have money, if you're really so upset about it," he added a little vindictively, reaching into his pant pocket for his coin pouch.
Paying her for petting his cat? Ridiculous! But he couldn't stand around and let a beautiful woman think he was some kind of pervert that got his kicks indirectly through his cat.
That made Liadan's eyes narrow and the last of her patience snapped. When his hand reached for his pocket, she hurled the basket right at his head.
No woman had ever thrown anything at him before. The shock of it was like a bomb going off in his face, and he didn't even move out of the way despite his reflexes. All he could do was stare at the basket that now lay at his feet, feeling the sting from its impact on his cheek. There was the feeling of being burned, of being dirty and foul.
Not only had he creeped this woman out, he'd also offended her. That was not allowed in his books. Ever. To her he was a moral-lacking degenerate. The opposite of what he ever wanted to be to the opposite sex.
He took a slow step back, hand on his cheek where the basket had hit him, eyes moving back up to the winged woman. He didn't know what to do, what to say. This had never happened to him before. He didn't like it.
"Madam, I--I'm terribly sorry to have distressed you." His voice was calmer than he felt. Maneki, sensing his disorder of thought, peeked her head out from the pile of wood she'd climbed into. "I don't--how can I make it up to you?"
The apology helped. It also helped that Liadan was aware she was being ridiculous. She took a steadying breath, her hands shaking a little as she smoothed her dress down, "I...I think we should start over. And so something with those scratches."
Start over? He'd never had to start over before. His actions with women were flawless.
Except this time.
At the mention of his scratches, he blinked, looking at his hand which was coated in blood from having touched his face. He became aware that blood was still dripping slowly off his chin and his arm stung as well.
He was used to injuries from Maneki. She was a finicky and spoiled cat. But these were deeper than usual, surprising him. Had he really offended her so badly? Or maybe his own distress had seeped in through her mental link and caused her anxiety.
"I'll be fine," he said. The marring of his body was nothing compared to the betrayal he felt for having upset this stranger. "And I don't think I ever told you my name. It's Monnayage. Monnayage Mint."
"It's-" Liadan paused, a pleasure to meet you wasn't really true, but she wasn't sure what else to say, "Nice meeting you. I'm Liadan."
She still didn't really trust the man. She pet his cat and he purred? That was...not normal, "You are bleeding quite a bit..."
He gave a wry smile, nodding at her. "Liadan." A pretty name. There was no point in her lying to him, but he appreciated the sentiment just the same. If she really wanted to start over, then he could try, though he doubted he would be as enthusiastic. Now knowing how she really felt about him.
There was the desire to lick his scratches, completely instinctual and hard to hold back on; nevertheless, he did not. He didn't want to freak Liadan out further. "It'll stop soon," he said. It always did.
"Um. Alright then. I guess I will...leave you to your cat then." Liadan glanced over at where the basket lay. She was going to have to move closer to get it and she really wasn't sure she wanted too. But it was Iris's basket, so she needed it back.
Monnayage followed Liadan's gaze down to the basket. Realizing what she wanted, he stooped down, picked it up off the ground, and held it out to her. "I believe this is yours," he said. His words felt formal now, stilted. A rock had settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
With a loud meow, Maneki was out of her hiding place and down by his feet in seconds, weaving around his legs with her tail held high. Then she was by Liadan's feet, doing that same thing. <A bad day,> she was saying. <A very bad day. She threw a basket at you.>
Liadan had started to reach down to pet the cat, then stopped, hands pulling back. She was not doing that again. She felt awkward and stupid, but it was still just weird. She took a careful step around the cat, taking the basket.
"I'm...not entirely sorry I threw the basket. But I am sorry a little for it." He had been rather insulting.
He didn't know what to say to this, and so remained quiet, shrugging as if the idea of the basket being thrown at him was no big deal. He'd deserved it, he guess, for not grabbing Maneki before the whole incident had occurred.
There was no denying it had felt good, though. Through Maneki's pleasure, he knew this girl was a professional at petting animals.
One other thing that bothered him was that he'd learned so little about her wings. That had been his main interest before any of this had started. Now bringing it up would simply be uncomfortable.
"Would you like an escort to wherever you were going?" he asked.
Liadan's eyes narrowed again, lips pursed into a thin line. But guilt made her nod. It was strange, part of her brain felt very justified at throwing the basket at the creep. He was being just weird and trying to blame it on the cat.
But he just looked so pathetic, it was hard to stay angry, "I'm going to the market, for some supplies."
For one who wanted to start over, she wasn't putting in much of an effort for it. He couldn't blame her. Her edginess was founded on the assumption that he was a creeper, a man that blamed his perversion on his cat.
How on earth was he supposed to prove to her that he wasn't any of those things? A pervert at times, yes, but he hadn't meant to be this time around.
"Supplies for what?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he made his way toward her, making sure to keep a comfortable distance in case she felt like abusing him with her basket again. Maneki trailed at his feet, meowing, her guilt at having hurt him coming through loud and clear. Of course she was too prideful to actually voice her apology, but the attempt made him feel a bit better.
"Dinner mostly. I'm part of a traveling troupe." Liadan glanced over at him, making sure he kept his distance. He seemed like he was going too, but she still didn't really trust him, "What do you do when you aren't purring at strange women?"
Her distrust burned as bright as the sun through storm clouds after a heavy rain. Like it or not, he could see her eying him from the corner of his eyes, though he tried to act like he didn't notice, feigning interest in what she said.
Then her final statement hit home, razzled him. Were he a cat, his fur might have stood up on end in offense. The feelings went through to Maneki, whose fur did rise.
"I wasn't purring at you!" he cried, rounding on her, arms up in the air in exasperation. Why did people not understand? Noticing his rise in temperament, he tried to calm himself just as quickly as the outburst, lowering his arms. He gave a loud sigh of frustration and gestured at Maneki. "She was purring at you. Not me. I got the brunt end of it."
He ran his hand through his hair, other hand on his hip. "Maneki and I share thoughts, feelings, senses. What she feels, I feel. Most of the time. Sometimes I can shut it out, but she jumped in too quickly, like I said earlier. I didn't have time." Babbling. He was babbling. He just didn't want her to think of him like . . . like that. "And you're not strange. You're beautiful."
<And she has nice hands,> Maneki said, peering up at him with an unreadable expression, almost like mischief. All traces of guilt were gone. <It's what you're thinking. I thought it, too.
While he loved Maneki, he definitely wanted to strangle her right now.
"What was the question again?"
Liadan flinched when he raised his voice, shying away from him. She was not sure she did want to keep walking around with him after all. Her heart was pounding and she wanted to get distance between her and the man.
She kept remembering the winged demon, his switching from kindness to anger and the fear. She just shook her head, "It's nothing. It doesn't matter."
Something was wrong here. Terribly wrong. There was no reason for a woman to be this jumpy, even if he had come off as what she deemed "a pervert" earlier.
Blessed Kia, had she been mistreated by someone? The thought brought an angry splotch of red to his face. That would certainly explain why she jumped around like a frightened mouse. The idea that someone would do such a thing to someone so lovely made his blood boil.
But there was nothing he could do about that now. Except . . .
"Liadan," he said, voice more sincere than it had been thus far, passion burning now that he thought he knew what was wrong. "Forgive me." He put his hand over his heart. "I've been discourteous to you, and that was never my intention when I came to speak to you." Hand back at his side, he stared her straight in the eye, making sure to blink so that he didn't come off domineering. "I can see that you're uncomfortable. I will force myself on your company no longer."
He bowed then, short, then looked up and flashed one of his winning smiles. "But I hope that when we meet again, it might be under better circumstances."
At that, he lifted Maneki from the ground, cradling her on his arm. This time she did not protest to being carried. <Let's go find some salve for these ugly wounds you've given me,> he said to her, noticing the dried blood streaks on his arm from where he'd not wiped them away.
Liadan felt awful, but she felt better when the man had gone. He had been weird, yes, but the yelling and then the kindness and just him being male had frightened her. She had to take several long, deep calming breaths, her entire body trembling before she could keep going. She was not going to live her life like this, she wasn't!
[hr:1lqug4q3][/hr:1lqug4q3]
It had been a long day and Liadan was worn out. She was back to work, telling fortunes and reading palms. It was all silly and the art of telling people what they wanted to hear, but she was good at it. The exotic looks helped as well, wings and glowing eyes and all that.
She wanted nothing more than to sit with her feet in warm water and chat with Iris, but the circus was in a great mood, having done a huge amount of buisness, so she was stuck in a crowded tavern. It wasn't all bad, she was having a good time, savoring the cider she had gotten earlier. She had a mug already and was starting to get into the mood.
Tapping her foot to the music, she watched as some people started dancing. She wanted to join in, but it was far too crowded for her wingspan and kept to her seat, back to the wall so her wings wouldn't get in the way.
The wings were what gave her away. Monnayage could never forget such a beautiful sight. But neither could he forget his first encounter with—what was it? Liadan?—and how she'd been absolutely terrified of him. It was an experience he did not wish to relive.
So, when he walked over to her table, Monnayage made sure that Maneki stayed out of sight—something she agreed to only because he blackmailed her for having hurt him so badly the last time. Would Liadan even remember him? It had been a while.
He was a much better sight, too. Clothed, a nice, off-white shirt adorning his usually bare chest. His hair was brushed. This was a place that required its patrons to not look like they'd just come off the streets.
"Good evening," he said to her over the music, standing next to the empty chair across from where she sat. "Mind if I join you?"
It was worth a shot, and he was more than ready to bow and depart if she declined.
Liadan had started to say yes, turning to look at the new arrival when she froze, cheeks flushing when she realized who it was. She hadn't really handled that encounter very well and while she wasn't really over the trauma of her kidnapping, she was aware that she had over reacted.
She gave a small nod, her body tense, "Of course. It's uh, been a while. Your cuts seem to have healed well."
He'd been recognized! That delighted him and he beamed at her as he took a seat. While most of her recognition might have come from how their last meeting had been, he liked to think that it was also nearly impossible for one to forget a good-looking man such as himself. Good to know that his previously scratched and bloodied self had not turned her off.
"Just cuts," he said, waving off the comment as if he hadn't obsessed over them once he'd left her and his head had cleared. As if he hadn't, like always, worried that the scratch marks would leave permanent scars, making him ugly forever. "But thank you."
He looked around at all of the dancing people, smiling amiably at their catchy happiness. He'd managed to get himself in a seat across from her, and so far, besides a somewhat tense posture on her part which was completely understandable, she was showing no other signs of discomfort.
"What brings you here?" he asked, gesturing with his hand at their surroundings.
"My..." Liadan hesitated a moment, not sure she wanted to say what she was to the stranger. So many people got the wrong idea about what her job meant but he had proven to be a gentleman, so far anyway, "My troupe is traveling through the area and we are celebrating a good show."
Se gestured to the loud singing that some of the performers had started, "What about yourself?"
"Your troupe?" he repeated, brows lifting a little. One as beautiful as her couldn't be part of a circus. No! He certainly hoped not. Maybe he'd misheard her.
His eyes moved out to the dancing people that she gestured at and he decided to not ask her about it. Best not to know, unless she told him.
"Just enjoying the show, like yourself," he said, nodding at the people. They all seemed so happy. And they smelled much better than those in other places. These people bathed. "Surprised to see you here. Someone as pretty as yourself should be in a palace, no?"
"Yes. My troupe." Liadan smiled bright and brittle, "I'm a fortune teller by trade, hardly palace material."
His eyes followed a couple out on the dance floor. The young man, while trying to look as though he were confident and knew what he was doing, kept stumbling and bumping into those around him by accident. His partner, a beautiful young woman, appeared to be humoring him, though Monnayage could see her pursed lips.
At the words "fortune teller" he looked back around at Liadan, somewhat surprised. That was the last thing he'd expected to hear, next to her being in a troupe. "A fortune teller, huh?" he said. "Does that mean you could tell me my future?"
"For a few coins, I can pierce the stream of time for you." Liadan smiled, though she was watching the dancers. Things always changed once people found out. She held out one of her hands, palm up, "What do you want to know?"
"Hm." Monnayage looked down at her hand, unsure of what to do. Was he supposed to put one of his in hers? He didn't know anything about the mumbo-jumbo known as "fortune telling."
Not put off for long, he grinned. "Well, I know this beautiful young woman. Finest features you've ever seen." He gestured in the air to emphasize his point. "Thing is, I didn't hit it off so well with her last time." Now he looked straight at her. "Can you tell me if I might get myself a second chance with her? You might have met her. She stands out a bit."