It's Personal

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Making gift cards specifically wasn't something that Alison had ever heard of before, but she wasn't going to question Benjamin on his career choices. Too many people had asked her the same questions at one point: was she sure, did she really want to do this, was it worth throwing her life away just to design logos? Happiness was worth everything to Alison, and if Benjamin was happy with what he did, then the redhead vowed not to open her mouth—even if she was curious about how and why he had gotten into the business. "I guess we have that in common," Alison said quietly and lightly shrugged her shoulders. Screaming and accusations sprinkled with the occasional drink or five had been her entire life throughout the last few years of high school. At least Benjamin was able to understand her.

When the sugar-scented air caused Benjamin to get up from his chair and proclaimed that fresh cinnamon rolls were out of the oven, Alison nodded. "Alright," she said as she watched him walk away. Although their first meeting was going well, the redhead didn't have much of an appetite no matter how tempting fresh pastry was. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, Alison was still slightly nervous that everything was going to go wrong, or that her family was going to be awful to a complete stranger. The thought of Benjamin fielding various insults for the weekend all for the reward of macaroni salad and ribs didn't exactly seem fair.

As the blond returned to the table, Alison raised her eyes from the coffee cup in front of her. "I really love this place," she mentioned and glanced around the cafe. The pressure to reveal more about herself was making her slightly tense and she was hardly used to going on about her life.
 
He was relieved to find that she hadn't made any snarky remark regarding his occupation of choice. As ridiculous as it may have seemed, it earned him a living that he could just barely scrape by on, and to him it was perfect. Stressful, irritating, but occasionally enjoyable work that made him feel fulfilled in his own unique way.

Benjamin peeled away the outer layers of the cinnamon roll, popping them into his mouth as if they were a delicacy. "Yeah? Well, we agree there. Best cinnamon rolls in town. Best coffee, too, even though I'm not too big on coffee." Energy drinks were a bit of a favorite of his, but that wasn't to say he wouldn't down a pot of coffee - black - if he really needed it. Monster mixed with five hour energy tended to be the concoction of death, but it works wonders when Benjamin pulls all-nighters.

"So," he began again, trying to ignite the conversation after his short absence. "Anything else to warn me of? What rooms I shouldn't go into? What affectionate nicknames I should call you by?" That last one was a bit of a joke, but one some level it was genuinely serious. He had to know how to play that part, and he couldn't do that without knowing her limits and comfort zones. He tacked on a bit of a laugh to avoid any tension the question might've arisen.
 
There were plenty of things to warn him about, and about ten different incidents of her family being secretly terrible came immediately to mind, but whether or not they had enough time to discuss all of that was debatable. Instead, Alison shook her head and the motion dislodged a few stray, red, locks that had been tucked behind her ear. "Nothing too bad," she said, and tucked those same strands back into place with one hand. "I mean, they're not scary or anything, just...kind of mean, I guess." Kind of was a bit of an understatement, but that was neither here nor there, especially when Benjamin seemed to have made up his mind about tagging along. Plus, it was only for the weekend and Alison figured there was enough adult resolve between the two of them to cope.

Laughing softly, Alison shrugged her shoulders; it was something she had been doing a lot of lately. The lake house was open to everyone, and while there were skeletons in those closets as well, nothing was expressly forbidden. "You can call me whatever you want," she said, figuring that all pet-names would be standard. "I'm not going to complain if you make my parents uncomfortable," she added with another laugh, amused by the thought of causing embarrassment rather than enduring it.

Now nearly done with her coffee, Alison watched as Benjamin picked at the cinnamon roll in front of him. "Is there anything else?" she asked. "We'll have to look like a real couple, but how hard can that be?"
 
Didn't seem too difficult, really, as long as he played his part. Nothing they could say to him could ever actually hurt - or so he hoped. Benjamin had a thick skin, both emotionally and physically - thank goodness - and rolled with everything that came his way. Letting it all pass without a hitch seemed to be the best way to avoid stress or anxiety, in his experience. Otherwise it built, and built up tension and anger would never get him anywhere. With the knowledge that Alison had put up for it as long as she did, coupled with his experience, he should be just fine.

"No problem, sweetheart. Hope you don't mind getting touchy." He didn't mean it in any perverted, out-of-bounds kind of way, simply that it was the best solution to making them believable. And, of course, he was fully aware of the limits between them, no matter how friendly they'd gotten the past hour. This was for free food only; he'd keep his hands to himself on any other occasion.

He was down to the center of the cinnamon roll, and looking quite satisfied, gave her a thumbs up. "Guess that's it, right? Shouldn't be too hard. I play my part, you play yours, and thinks should go smoothly. And, hey, if they ask any questions, I've gotten good at deflecting. No worries there."
 
Out of all the Craiglist ads that Alison could have replied to, she was glad that she'd stumbled upon Benjamin's. Just from their brief talk, the redhead gathered that they were rather similar and although they had grown up in different types of families, the stifling resentment was still there. In a way, she felt for him and had she been more brave, she would have asked him more questions. As it was, they were only supposed to hang out for the weekend and fool her family into thinking that she was doing the right thing. They may have hated that she was an artist, but they had always wanted her to settle down—having Benjamin there was just one less thing for them to harp about.

Shaking her head, Alison laughed softly, a bit of a blush spreading over her cheeks. "No, I don't," she said, "that's what's expected right?" They were sure to be staying in the same room over the weekend, and Alison could only hope that she and Benjamin could spend the five hour car ride getting more comfortable with one another. He may have been a natural actor, but Alison was always a bundle of nerves and hatred when it came to family matters. If anyone was going to blow their secret, it was sure to be her; just something else to worry about.

Watching as Benjamin unfurled his cinnamon roll to the core, Alison nodded. "That's it," she confirmed, happy to hear that deflection was a secret talent of his. "I've got a car, so I can pick you up tomorrow. It's probably going to be kind of early, long drive and all." Of course, Alison wasn't against him sleeping on the way. "And I'll pay you then, too." It wasn't as though he could run off on her, so she was fine with giving him the money before the weekend was up.

Shifting around in her seat, Alison grabbed her phone and brought up his contact information. "What's your address?" Going anywhere without GPS was more or less a nightmare.
 
He was all out of smiles, content to just offer a nod here or there to show he was still engaged. He crumpled the wax wrapping of the cinnamon roll when he was finished, then leaned back in his chair and set his palms flat on the table before him. "Time's no problem. Gives us time to talk, right?" Unless he did pass out on the way, which was very possible and even likely. Long, silent car rides tended to get to him, and he always felt terrible upon waking. Benjamin considered downing coffee early to keep him awake and alert, just so he could avoid the headaches. He seemed a little uncertain about the payment, but replaced it quickly with enthusiasm. Couldn't hurt, right?

Benjamin hopped up out of his seat and pointed to the green street sign across from the coffee shop. "Straight down for about a mile, 'till you hit a nice little street called Valley; that's where you turn. Fourth house on the right, and bright red one-seven-three for your convenience. It's, uh, shared. If I'm not awake, Tom will answer." He cringed inwardly at that; Thomas was a terrible alarm clock who wasn't as much a roommate as he was the "occasional friend who showed up and shared the bill". "Just let him know it's time to go, he'll get me moving." Which was exactly why Benjamin would try to avoid that and wake himself up as early as he could manage.

"Guess you can use this nice little place as a point of reference, if you want. Not too far, either." A conveniently placed coffee shop about a mile from home? It was no wonder he'd suggested this place for a meeting. "Or, hey, just follow the fence. It leads all the way to my street. Don't know why they put it up, really, but it makes a good landmark."
 
Although the directions were simple enough, Alison still keyed the street name and house number into her phone. She didn't think she would forget between now and tomorrow morning, but her mind was already in so many different places, trying to prepare for the barrage of judgment and keep up with a somewhat flimsy lie and she still had to pack for the weekend. Pressure wasn't a foreign concept to her, but Alison didn't thrive under it and she could only hope that Benjamin did.

"Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a nod. Before her final goodbye, Alison thanked him again for coming, for agreeing to meet with her at all and tried to assure him just one more time that the weekend wouldn't be terrible—it was more for her own benefit than his.

The rest of the day was spent packing, making last minute adjustments to her schedule and trying to quell the urge to back out completely and disappoint her family just one more time. The redhead talked to herself for most of the afternoon, muttering as she stuffed clothes and personal items into a large overnight bag about how wrong this could go, and already trying to think up excuses for when someone—her sister—found out that Benjamin wasn't actually her boyfriend. "How pathetic are you?" she asked herself in a frustrated huff as she folded another pair of shorts and finally finished packing her bag. Shaking her head at herself, and sure that she looked like a complete loon, Alison hauled the tawny-colored bag up from her bed and set it by the door.

Sleep didn't come easy that night but morning had arrived all too soon. It was just before eight when Alison reached for her phone to turn off the alarm she had set. Normally, it took her a few tries to get out of the bed but anxiety was helping to haul her up from the covers and start her morning routine. It was incredibly simple; a shower, some hair product, a blow dryer and a bit of eye make-up before throwing on some comfortable clothes. Driving for five hours in a cute outfit may have impressed some people, but Alison had enough things to worry about that day. When everything was done, Alison forced herself to pick up her bag and had to continue to force herself out of the house—if she lingered any longer, she was going to start to talk herself out of going at all.

After locking up, Alison pulled out her phone and dialed Benjamin's number. After a few rings, the sound of a voicemail chimed on the line, "hey...it's me. I'm on my way to pick you up. I'll be there in like five minutes, maybe? Uh—see you then, I guess." Hanging up, Alison tossed her bag into the backseat of her blue Taurus before getting on the road.

The coffee shop had been easy to find, and Benjamin's house was much of the same. After finding the right street, the red house was hard to miss and she found a parking spot in record time. The neighborhood looked rather unassuming and Alison made quick work of jogging up the front steps. She knocked her knuckles against the door a few times and waited for an answer, hoping that her voice hadn't sounded too anxious in the message she'd left, if Benjamin had even listened yet.
 
Benjamin went back and forth between wondering what he got himself into, and hoping the food was good. Hey, it wasn't his fault that it was in his genetics to be incapable of passing up good food. Food was food, and Benjamin tended to be too busy to actually make anything decent. The rest of the night, he'd stress over what clothes he would bring, whether those were good enough - or too good, and he needed to put them back - and how on earth he was going to manage getting up that early. He set the coffee timer to five and put his alarm on the same time, set it next to his pillow, and slept.

By the next morning, he felt refreshed enough to make himself a decent breakfast - one pancake, but it was good enough for him - and make himself look nice. An old backpack filled with the essentials sat by the kitchen entrance. He ran a comb through his hair, brushed his teeth until they were sparkly-white, and threw on the nicest set of clothing he had that wasn't already thrown away into the backpack. Overall, he looked quite nice and he was obviously one who took pride in his appearance.

He unhooked his phone from its charger to let Thomas know what was going on, only to find a voicemail from someone decidedly not Thomas waiting for him. Looked like Alison was on her way, and had called a little earlier than he anticipated. No problem, he was ready. Just a bit longer of flattening out the wrinkles here, making sure his shoes were tied properly, taking the house key from its ring to hide in the mailbox for when he came back. The less keys he had, the better he could fit the entire ring into his pocket.

Then the knock came, just as he'd heard it in his head a few times the night before, and Benjamin was at the door as soon as he could. He tugged it open with a wide smile, trying his best to not look tired and make himself seem presentable.

"Got your message," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Came earlier than I expected, but that's okay. I'm all ready to go if you are." Which she probably was, he reminded himself, and she might have been waiting for him to call her back but he'd checked his phone too late; idiot, should have been paying attention-- "Let me just get my bag."
 
"Oh!" Alison said, suddenly feeling like she should have come later, or at least made a stop to grab something that resembled breakfast on the way. As it was, five hours in a car was a long drive, and the redhead wanted to get on the freeway before it got too crowded. The last thing she needed was a traffic jam to add to her stress when it was already halfway to reaching its peak. "I'm ready," she nodded and stepped backward to leave the porch, "you can sleep on the way if you're still tired. I don't mind." It wasn't like she hadn't made the drive solo before, but she really did want to get to know him a bit better before he had to suffer through meeting her family.

After agreeing to wait for him to get his bag, Alison went to wait by the car. She pulled out her phone again and began to go trough it, seeing a text message from her older sister; Madison had such little faith in her and the reminder about the party wasn't appreciated. Scoffing under her breath, Alison shook her head and stuffed her phone back into her pocket where it belonged. Luckily, Benjamin had picked that moment to return from inside and soon enough, they were on their way upstate.

"How do you feel about drive-thru coffee?" she asked, planning to stop at a fast food place and grab something quick. At a red light, she fiddled with the radio, scrolling through station after station until she found something acceptable. There were CDs in the car as well, but Alison didn't feel like messing with any of them, and there was ample opportunity to pick a few out if the radio got to be too unbearable. "Oh, and I have your money," she said, thankful for the red light holding out as she twisted in her seat to produce a wad of bills. As she handed off the money, the line of traffic began to move once more.


(( Extremely sorry for the wait on this! I didn't realize it had been so long D: ))
 
Benjamin grabbed the bag beside the couch and slung it over his shoulder before returning to the door, keys in hand. "I'll be okay, I think. Just not used to waking up this early, y'know?" He shut the door to the house behind him and turned the lock before stuffing his key into his pocket. He'd been lucky to remember to leave a spare beneath the door mat for Tom; had he not, he'd be going home to a very unhappy roommate and sleeping with some very sore ears. He was used to his best friend berating him for stupid decisions, but how to avoid them was always the first thing that came to mind these days.

He'd been on longer car rides, so this couldn't be too bad. Maybe a thirty minute nap to refresh his mind if he couldn't distract himself from the time with some idle chat. He would have brought some music of his own, but wasn't sure what she liked so had decided not to. Other than that, he was about as ready as he could get. "Alright. Off we go then?"

Coffee actually sounded like a good idea. He'd probably end up crashing later, but the temporary boost of energy would do him good if he wanted to make a good impression. He rubbed his eyes roughly to wake himself up and nodded at her suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds good." Okay, so besides a terrible taste in coffee, he also apparently had a terrible taste in radio stations. Which he, thankfully, didn't change the radio to. No, he was much to polite to put someone through that, much less the woman giving him money. He accepted the cash with a wide, thankful smile, and tucked it into the side pouch of his bag.

((Nah, it's fine--I'm slow too. Take your time.))
 
After getting two coffee's from a drive-thru window, burning her tongue and cutting off a truck in the process of getting onto the freeway, Alison relaxed back into her seat. The drive was pretty straight forward, just long and across many uninteresting stretches of land. Normally, things went a little better when a friend tagged along—there was singing to songs on the radio, telling funny stories and easy conversation—it was different with Benjamin, though. It probably had everything to do with the fact that he was a total stranger, but the redhead hoped that the next five hours together would help both of them feel more at ease with each other. After all, they were, allegedly, a couple.

"So," she said after sucking in a deep breath, an attempt to make conversation. "Um, do you like this music?" It was a lame question disguised as an offer to change the radio station. Alison reached for her coffee again, momentarily steering with her knee as she peeled the tab back and took a drink. It was cooler after sitting for the last ten minutes, no longer lava-hot and ready to scald the hell out of her mouth and throat. The caffeine was welcomed even if nerves were doing a wonderful job of keeping her alert. "I have CD's somewhere—the glovebox, I think." Everything ended up there eventually, anyway.

Glancing over at Benjamin, Alison wondered if it was too early for conversation, if she should just leave him be until he'd had more than half of his coffee. She couldn't help her anxiety over the entire situation, worried that her sister was going to see right through the ridiculous scheme and that her parents would ultimately still be disappointed in her. In the back of her mind, Alison wondered if it was too late to turn around, make up some crazy excuse and hide inside for the weekend.


(( Are you enjoying things so far? D: I feel nervous for some reason ))
 
Benjamin sipped thoughtfully, eyes glued to the road ahead as if there was something to see. Really, he was just thinking and trying to sort this all out, figure out what he was to do next. For a long moment, he didn't move and appeared not to have noticed her question. "Don't have to like the music to enjoy it," he said, remarkably chipper for running on coffee and a few short hours of sleep. Benjamin was content to listen to whatever played, and relaxed back against his seat.

"This'll be my first time at a genuine family gathering, you know. My family did it... once, two years ago?" He chuckled a bit. "Terrible. As usual, because everyone's got a temper." His family was a bit too aggressive in conversations. He couldn't help but feel a bit excited to be going, even if it wasn't his family he was visiting. It was necessary to remember that these were "pretend-girlfriend's-family" first before they were strangers, and he had to act accordingly.

Basically, he had to act normal. He did well around people he didn't know, so this shouldn't be too much of a hassle. A smile and a bit of banter, some compliments and a friendly attitude could go a long way for Ben, so long as Alison's family was human enough to catch onto the charm.

"Hey, I have an idea. Have you ever played twenty questions?"

(Hey, don't feel nervous. I'm having fun. What about you?)
 
There was no turning back now, and at the very least, one of them was excited to be heading up north. For now, the only thing that Alison could do was hope that Benjamin's sunny and relaxed attitude rubbed off on her over the next several hours. After all that had happened between herself and the family, along with the way her relationship with Madison had deteriorated over the years, Alison couldn't help but worry. At some point, the redhead hoped to calm down enough to behave like a normal person, and not make her pretend-boyfriend think that she was something of a crazy, anxious freak. Non-judgmental as he seemed to be, a person could only tolerate so much nervous small talk.

"Yeah," Alison nodded, glancing over toward Benjamin. "I have—my friends and I played it a lot in high school." It had been ages since she had revisited the game, though, but she was instantly missing the stolen wine coolers and someone's basement. Still, it was the thought that counted and Alison couldn't think of a more perfect way to get to know Benjamin, not only as a person, but also as someone she had allegedly been dating. Her mind had been so clouded with apprehension that a game had never even occurred to her.

Settling into a steady speed, Alison took one hand off the wheel and reached for her coffee again. "Alright, question one," she said after taking a sip and swallowing, "what's your favorite color?" It was best to start off easy and basic.


(( I'm liking it! I just wasn't sure if it was too slow or if you were bored and I worry about things for absolutely no reason. ))
 
It was a silly, stupid game, he'd had to admit. But he recalled it being quite entertaining on long trips, and a good way to get to know somebody. Like friends you just met. And if he could make getting to know Alison better, then this looked like it was going to be the best option. Benjamin settled back against the seat. "Favorite color? Hm... Let's go with blue." No shade variations, no specific material-- just good old fashioned blue. Well, maybe red, the color of his favorite dining chair as a kid. But maybe that was just because it'd been the only chair not to squeak when he sat on it.

An average question, but it was a good start to getting them more comfortable around each other. She seemed awfully nervous about the whole thing, and Ben wasn't quite sure how to deal with that. Assure her that he wouldn't do anything embarrassing? That was already expected. Benjamin wasn't great at being supportive, anyway.

"What about you? You seem like a... red. Or maybe pink. You know, warm colors. The stuff people cover their walls in during the winter so it feels cozier."

(Don't worry, I overthink things a lot-- I know how you feel)
 
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Normally, Alison didn't have a problem with new people, or getting to know them but having to see her family did something horrible to her personality. It was all that the redhead could focus on, and her thoughts tended to spiral out of the control, only to land on the worst possible scenario where everyone finally confessed what a pain in the ass she was. Although Alison may not have gotten along well with her family, they were still all she had and the thought of making things worse filled her with dread. Still, Benjamin's efforts were appreciated and if she was thinking of and answering questions, she couldn't worry about everything under the sun.

"That suits you," she replied after glancing at him and then looking back to the road. He seemed like a blue kind of person, maybe even calming.

When the question was turned on her, Alison shook her head. "My favorite is green," she said, "hunter green, actually, like a forest." As a redhead, there were a lot of colors that were apparently, off limits to her and her mother had gone out of her way to make sure that she never wore anything pink or red, or anything that clashed horribly with her hair. As an adult, she didn't own many warm colors because of her childhood. Saying that, however, was a good way to ruin the mood and Alison kept quiet as she thought of another question.

"What's your favorite food?" Still basic, but still informative.
 
Calm, loyal, considerate blue. That was what the psychic infomericals told him, even if they were a crock and couldn't possibly indicate anything about him. It was just a color. It was convenient that Benjamin had years of practice to get this kind of small talk right, otherwise things could've gotten awkward. He did feel a little tricked when she revealed her favorite as the complete opposite of what he'd assumed, but hey. He was close. Kind of.

"Green, huh?" Benjamin shrugged. "Well, I guess it's a nice color. Can't say I'm good at figuring out favorite colors." He had to admit, green would suit her much better than any other color. One color fits all, he supposed.

"Pizza. And, uh, mushrooms are good," he admitted, fully prepared to stand up for his taste in pizza. It really wasn't as bad as everyone wanted to believe, and Benjamin had excellent taste, thank you very much. He could go for some pizza right now, but food would have to wait. Benjamin took in the scenery - wasn't much, actually - for a moment before clearing his throat to let her know that it was now her turn to answer the very same question. No questioning from him, just piggybacking.
 
Twenty questions was the mother of all distractions, and as the inquiries rolled on, Alison finally began to relax. Suddenly, it no longer mattered that she was driving toward her emotional death, or that parts of her family were going to judge her just for showing up. She had someone by her side to help ease the tension, and stranger or not, Benjamin was a cute security blanket, easy to talk to and open up around—which was a feat in itself. Inwardly, she wondered why he was in the greeting card business and not invested in something more social where his naturally calming air could help others in a more productive way.

"I like mushrooms," she said, approving of his choice. "My friends don't, but sometimes I order them anyway and make them pick around everything." It was a good thing that pizza tended to please just about everyone, universal and incapable of being wrong no matter the topping.

When the question was turned around on her, Alison bit down on the inside of her cheek, pondering as they continued down the highway. "Chicken noodle soup," she said after a beat as the song on the radio changed to something a little more upbeat. "Most kinds of soup, honestly. It's easy to make." While she may not have been any kind of chef, chicken soup could be thrown together without a second thought and on cold, winter days, it really hit the spot.

"I guess it's my turn again," she said, shoulders no longer so tight as she got comfortable in her seat. "Do you have any pets?" she asked, glancing over to him, "and if not—what kind of pet would you want? Any kind of animal."
 
Strange how well he fit in with strangers. Actually, it was completely logical; raised by strangers, housed by strangers. He spent more time with people he didn't know that friends to the point where the irish proverb seemed to have become his personal motto; strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. Alison would make a perfect addition to his friends list.

"Wow." Benjamin liked that idea. Liked it more because watching others go through so much trouble just to eat pizza sounded entertaining, if he wanted to go the "terrible and cruel friend" route. "That's a terrible thing to do," he said humorously. "I ought to try that."

Benjamin made a face of disgust. "Soup? That's like cereal with chunks. I mean, chunk you can't actually identify. You can identify cereal." So maybe he was being a bit over-dramatic, because some soups he could stomach if he really tried. But he preferred keeping his liquids and his solids - with the exception of cereal - far away from each other.

Now that they were off the topic of food... "I had a dog, once. Not anymore, but if I could I'd get another." He couldn't actually afford to support a dog, as much as he would enjoy a furry face to keep him occupied on slow days. He was absolutely certain that Tom wouldn't mind. "German shepherd. I grew up around them, you know. Good dogs." He couldn't remember much about them, other than their ridiculous names, but couldn't help but look upon others of the breed with the same affection. "Your turn."
 
For a moment, the redhead was starting to think that maybe they were actually compatible, and that pulling off this lie was going to be easier than she thought. It was only when Benjamin looked disgusted at the mere thought of soup did she change her mind. "Wow," she echoed his usage from a moment before, "we're going to have to break up if you're going to keep being so unnecessarily judgmental over soup." Alison smiled, though, amused by his comparison of chunks of cereal to chunks of whatever else. "Haven't you ever had homemade soup? Something that took a full day to make? Because I'm not talking about soup from a can—that's gross." Just the thought of wet noodles and questionable chicken parts sliding out from a can was enough to make her queasy.

Thankfully, the topic of animals was infinitely more appealing and Benjamin was back in her good graces as he mentioned German Shepherds. They were good dogs, and a good choice. "You can't keep piggybacking off of my questions," she pointed out with a laugh as they began to pass a row of billboards for hunting lodges and other woodsy attractions. "Ask me something original," she went on, "be creative."

Because she had been asked, though, "I'd want a dog, by the way. Probably an Irish Setter because we had one when I was little and haven't had a pet since she passed."
 
Benjamin rubbed his chin. "Well... no. But that's because I can't cook and neither did my parents. And when they did, I'm pretty sure it was just homemade oatmeal." Or maybe it wasn't, but he couldn't actually remember the sludge. It had tasted fine though, as far as he could recall. Maybe a bit watery.

"No idea what kinda dog that is, but sounds fine. As long as it's a real dog, and not a fragile baby-dog-- I hate chihuahua's, you know? I got bitten by one, once. Probably scarred for life, too."

"I thought that's how it worked," he said innocently, then nudged her gently with his knuckles before turning back to stare thoughfully out his window. His eyes shone with mirth, but he struggled to make his voice sound as serious as possible. "Hey, don't tell me what to do. Here, how's about this one: you've earned a million dollars, or won it. However you want to pretend. Where do you go-- what do you do with all that cash?" Him? Buy a private island, invest the rest and live off the interest. Fancy diners every week, as many pancakes and breakfast platters as he could handle. Maybe an xbox.

"How much longer, do you think? I think my legs forgot how to walk."
 
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