“A couple of reasons actually,” I start, wondering just how much to explain, “after Dimitri and everything that went down, I needed a break from supes, and I also didn’t trust that he wouldn’t come after me despite the fact that I was under HID protection. A human town talks when a supe comes to town, I would get a small forewarning. It was a safety precaution. It also kind of called to me? This is going to sound crazy, but you should be getting used to that when it comes to me now.”

He grins, “Now I’m intrigued, go on?”

“Well, I had been desperately looking for somewhere safe to live, I was twenty, been through things that,” I pause, and change the sentence, “been through too much. I just wanted somewhere to rest, to recharge, somewhere that was mine. I was working for HID but lived on the road, they would call me, and I’d tell them when I could get to the job based on where I was. I stopped in that little town, at Bobby’s, actually, and was looking through the paper, and my little house practically jumped offthe page and screamed ‘mine’ at me. One of Bobby’s regulars and now a favorite of mine, Pete, saw what I was looking at and asked if I liked it. Being me, I blurted out that it felt like mine; he said he was selling it as he had moved closer to town. I told him I had some money saved but not nearly enough and he ended up getting me a job at Bobby’s, and said I could pay him off in instalments. It was a damn miracle. I finished paying him off a few years ago, but I will never forget what he did for me.”

“Wow,” Raiden says, “that’s pretty cool. I would like to meet Pete. It sounds like he was there when you needed him.”

“Yeah, he was my favorite regular,” I chuckle, feeling a pang of sadness. I won't be working at Bobby’s any time soon, or ever. I have no need to now that I am working for SID.

“You will be able to go to see your house. I’ll make sure of it, and like I said, there is no need to sell it,” Raiden says.

I smile, “Thanks.” I change the subject, “Let’s get the boring shit over and done with.”

Raiden grins and puts his helmet on his bike, making me frown. That doesn’t seem safe.

“Don’t worry, Ransom has put a charm on them. If anyone tries to take them, they will get a nasty shock,” Raiden explains, clearly realizing where my hesitation has come from.

“Oh, awesome,” I reply as I put my helmet on my bike. I can’t help but pat the tank of the bike affectionately, “This bike is absolutely amazing.”

“I think so too,” Raiden smiles.

We start to head toward the doors of the mall, and I notice that the closer we get to them the more tense Raiden get’s, his smile leaving his face and his shoulders tensing. The man who was just laughing with me as we raced here has completely gone, and I don’t fucking like it. I can’t fix it unless I know what caused the change, though. Something tells me that it isn’t because he hates shopping as much as I do.

I want to get us out of the place that is clearly uncomfortable for Raiden as quickly as possible. I only need a few things to tide me over until I can get some stuff delivered. I spot a store that sells pretty much everything that I need, but it’s further in the mall.

“Come on, I think we need to go this way,” I say, since Raiden has fallen silent and has a scowl on his face.

His eyes dart in my direction, his expression softening slightly and then closing off and becoming hard again as he just nods.

We have been walking for about ten minutes when I realize that everyone is giving Raiden a wide berth and looking at him with fear and judgement. Raiden’s jaw is clenched tight, and that light that was in his eyes has faded completely.

Oh, fuck no, I’m not letting these stupid fucks have that effect on him.

I grab his hand, earning a gasp from a passing woman, and I stick my middle finger up at her because fuck her. The snicker I get from Raiden for my actions is well worth the glare the stupid bitch gives me.

Raiden looks down at me curiously, that amusement still dancing in his eyes.

I squeeze his hand, “Ignore the judgmental fucks. They aren’t worth your time.”

His expression falls, and he says barely above a whisper, “They’re scared of me.”

I shrug, “Let them be scared of you. The people that matter know who you really are; they know what you are really capable of.” I wave my hand around at the idiots, still giving us a wide berth, “These fuckers don’t matter.”

He smiles, although it’s not quite as wide as it was before it’s better than the shut down look that he had moments ago so I’ll take it.

“Thanks, Neith,” he says, squeezing my hand. I love how tiny my hand feels in his.

“Let’s get this boring shit out of the way so we can get back to the fun stuff,” I say as I start dragging him forward, studiously ignoring the shocked looks that are being thrown our way. I knew that reapers had a bad reputation, and that people were wary of them, everyone knows that, but I had no idea that it was this bad. It seems extreme, and I want to do a bit more research into the reason why so that I can understand better, not because I think that they are in any way right. It seems ridiculous to me to judge anyone based on anything other than their individual actions.

“You know people are going to stare just as much, if not more when we’re in town.” Raiden says as we move through the mall and finally get to the doors of the store. “I didn’t think. I just wanted to spend some time with you. I should have just let one of the others take you.”

I smile, “One, that is fucking adorable, people rarely want to spend time with me,” he looks down at me incredulously like he doesn’t believe me and I shrug, “I’m weird, in lots of ways that have made it difficult to have people in my life.”

Understanding fills his expression, but he can clearly tell that I don’t want to go any further into it, so he asks, “And number two?”

“Number two is that I’m enjoying spending time with you, and I don’t give a shit if loads of people are staring. It doesn’t bother me,” I add. What I don’t tell him is that I’m fine with it unless one of them decides to say something; I get protective over the people I care about. I grab a cart that’s by the door; I don’t plan to get too much, but I hate carrying baskets, so a cart it is.

“If you are sure?” he asks.