The short,  teapot-ish body hobbled quickly down the sidewalk keeping pace with Eliza, looking about ready to tip. No matter what time of day it was he would never be someone she would ever look at twice so she failed to notice him shadowing her or the scuffle that ensued on the barely lit street.

As she hit the corner, waiting for the traffic light to change, she saw her savior in the hoodie sweatshirt, sheepishly, standing over a pile of sizzling green goo.

“We meet again,” he called out over the mess.

Her eyes narrowed, a mix of shock and confusion, again, found its way to her face, “What the hell?”