He smiled at her offer of coffee, as if she knew without asking that it was his drug of choice, or had become such after he'd quit smoking - another promise he'd made to his mother before she'd died. He'd kept one and broken one, deeming the promise not to contact his father's family null and void now that she was no longer alive to prevent it. He held the door open for her until she was settled and then closed it and went around to the driver's side to get himself settled, finding the keys already in the ignition and starting the car up. It wasn't his Porsche, but a Mercedes, a fine car in its own right, just one in a fleet of cars Humphrey Granger kept on hand for use by himself and other family members when the need arose. He steered the car down the long winding drive and onto the road, at her direction.

Settled into the car, there was no sound for a long while but the gentle cadence of Lyneth's sleeping breaths in the back seat and Piper's soft directions as they drove through the city. As always, when they crossed the river, her eyes turned toward the bank where the riverside loft stood, before remembering to look away. They weren't going there; they were going home. "Rhy'Din must seem very strange to you in comparison with Manhattan," she commented quietly, more to keep her mind from unhappy memories than anything.

"Rhy'Din is strange all on its own. I haven't had much time to explore," he replied, his eyes on the road, which was far different from the city streets he was used to back home. Too occupied with driving, he didn't really notice the way she turned away from the loft near the river, as if to avoid looking at it, but if he had noticed, he wouldn't have known why. A little lost in his own thoughts generated by her mention of Manhattan, he continued, "I wasn't really planning on staying very long." He paused a quiet moment before changing the subject. "Have you ever been to New York?"

"No, I haven't," she admitted, and there was regret in her tone for that oversight. "I had the opportunity a few years ago, but ....well, I made a different decision. A bad decision, but still ..." She shrugged lightly, casting it off with a smile. "Have you ever been to England?"

He glanced her way briefly as she hinted at something she regretted, but he didn't pry. Whatever had happened in her past, it was her choice whether she chose to share it or not. "Can't say that I have. I always wanted to go there when I was a kid, but..." It was his turn to shrug.

"I daresay the England on your Earth is a good deal different to the one I know," she mused, cheerful despite the odd sense of dislocation that came with such a topic of conversation. She glanced over at him as he drove, somehow missing his glance her way, finding her gaze tracing the strong features that marked him out as a Granger and yet made him unique in his own personal way. Turning her eyes front once again, she gestured to the next left turning. "Turn here, and park wherever," she suggested. "It's a very short road."

He was unaware of her gaze upon him, unaware of her thoughts regarding him, focused on the road, with a brief glance in the mirror at the sleeping child in the back seat who was still something of a conundrum to him. There seemed to be a lot she wasn't telling him, but they'd only just met, and he had secrets of his own. Who was he to begrudge her hers" "How so?" he asked, in reply to her question as he followed her directions, turning the car left onto the road indicated.

"Well, it's Catholic, for a start," she chuckled. She'd done enough research to know that while she and her Earth knew only three religions, and of those only one called itself Christian, other Earths were home to hundreds of different religions and had followed very different historical courses. "And it is the seat of the British Empire, which covers around a third of the globe. Apparently on most Earths, history followed a very different path to the one I know. That one is us." Her hand rose to point to a small house set a little way back from the road, on the drive of which was parked a cheerfully red Beetle.

He looked where she was pointing toward a quaint two-story house set back from the road. It looked a lot more homey than his high-rise apartment back home, but this was Rhy'Din, not Manhattan where every inch of space was a precious commodity. From the looks of it, she had done well enough for herself and needed no man to take care of her, at least, not financially, it seemed. He pulled up in front of the house and parked the car, shifting into park, but not yet turning the engine off. "Here we are," he announced, wondering if he should extend the evening further or bid her farewell before things got out of hand.

Of course, he didn't know about her aristocratic connections, or the inheritance that had paid for the little house ahead of time. He might, in time. If he had the time to spare. Piper glanced at Des, every facet of her being warm and inviting, not really wanting the evening to end here. "Aren't you coming inside?" she asked, somehow managing to convey hope that he would combined with the potential for disappointment if he didn't. She gave him a moment to think about it, leaning into the back to gently squeeze Lyneth's leg. "Lynnie" Wake up, baby, we're home."

There was a mild complaint from the back seat, followed by an enormous yawn. "Wan' Desth to tuck m' in."

Piper couldn't help smiling at that, but she made the effort to stifle the expression as she looked back at Des. "You don't have to," she assured him. "But I have fresh coffee. Ground today. Very strong." She was deliberately trying to entice him inside, though she couldn't have said exactly why.

He was torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. She was the first person he'd met in Rhy'Din who wasn't a blood relative that he'd made any kind of connection with, feeling an odd sense of familiarity and comfort in her presence, though he couldn't say why. They were as different as night and day, and yet, he found her intriguing. He was about to decline the offer, finding it too great a temptation, when Lyneth mumbled something from the back seat that made him chuckle.

"It must have been the gingerbread man." He smiled back at Piper, just catching the ghost of a smile on her face. "How can I say no to that?" he asked, though whether he was referring to the tucking in or the offer of coffee or both was uncertain. "I have nowhere to go and all night to get there."

He stamped his feet and wiped them on the doormat, unsure if she wanted him to take his shoes off or not. "I think she's setting us up," he declared from the other room, deciding the polite thing to do was to take off his shoes, keeping his balance with one hand against the wall as he withdrew one shoe and then the other. "I've seen Parent Trap, you know." Not that the film was very relevant to their situation, but it seemed to him that someone was playing matchmaker, and it wasn't just Caroline. Once he had his shoes off and was in his stocking feet, he shrugged off his coat and laid it against the couch while she started the coffee.

"If Lynnie ever whips out a guitar and starts singing that appalling song at me, I'll put her up for adoption," Piper threatened, half warning, half laughing as she set the pot to brewing. She smiled as Des made himself more at home, relieved that they hadn't weirded him out too much with their allusions to the tree and its inhabitant. "She likes you, though."

There was a thump from upstairs, and a plaintive voice called down. "Mummy! I can' get my thshoesth off!"

Piper rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she chuckled. "Well, come down here, and we'll get you changed," she called back. "Don't forget your jammies!"

A moment later, the thud of little feet on the stairs announced Lyneth's reappearance, waving her pajamas over her head.

He had considered investigating the tree on his own, but there was no way he could have done it without arousing suspicion, and he didn't want to give either of them any reason to mistrust him. Besides, the idea of a being he couldn't see living in the tree was still a little too much for him to swallow just yet. He'd rather focus on that which he did understand, at least for now. He took a casual lean against the couch, arms crossed against his chest as he watched this very ordinary scene playing out before his eyes, a warm smile on his face, touched by the simple interaction between mother and daughter, the love shared by the pair more than apparent. He had thought about volunteering to help, but thought better of it, choosing to quietly observe instead.

In a whirlwind of chatter about her day and her presents and the fun she'd had, Lyneth was expertly twirled out of her party dress and into her pajamas within a few minutes, beaming up at Piper as her mother bent to kiss her goodnight. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and Piper signed, smiling in resignation. "Go on then," she said with a laugh. "Ask nicely."

The big smile didn't falter from Lyneth's face as the little girl turned to march over to Des, lifting one hand imperiously toward him. "Bedtime, pleasthe," she said cheerfully. "You thsaid, you thsaid you'd tuck me in. And it'sth bedtime."

Behind her, Piper groaned in amusement. "Not quite what I had in mind, Lynnie."

Desmond turned away as Piper changed and dressed her daughter, so as not to intrude on their privacy, quietly moving past them to check on the progress of the coffee as his excuse. The coffee wasn't quite done yet, but he made himself busy gathering cups and spoons and milk and sugar, doing what Piper had said and trying his best to make himself at home, when what he was really doing was just trying to stay out of the way.

He turned as he heard little footsteps approaching to find Lyneth standing there in her pajamas smiling up at him, one hand extended invitingly. He threw a glance past her to Piper, before looking back at Lyneth, a warm smile full of undisguised affection lighting his face. Charmed by the little girl, he offered his own hand, with a small stipulation. "Just so you know, I don't really know any good bedtime stories."

"Doesthn't matter, I know lotsth," was the confident reply as the little girl tugged hard on his hand, pulling with all her weight to get him to the stairs and up them.

Piper nodded to encourage Des on, waving a hand reassuringly. "I'll come to the rescue in ten minutes," she promised him in amusement, watching as her daughter heaved on his hand.

He laughed at her response, letting her tug him toward the stairs, wondering just what he had gotten himself into. "Are you going to tell me one, then?" he asked, with mirthful blue eyes. It was amazing what one little girl could do to warm a heart that had almost grown cold.

"D'you wan' me to?" She had to let go of his hand to navigate the steps, still at the stage where hands and feet were necessary to get all the way to the top. And once at the top, Lyneth took a moment straightening up, eschewing Des' hand for the hem of his jacket to tug him along with her and into her bedroom. It was rather sweetly decorated, definitely a little girl's room. What drew the eye, however, was the windowsill so stocked with plants it was a wonder the room got any light at all. The little girl released Des' jacket at the doorway, and threw herself onto her bed, snatching up an obviously much-loved stuffed rabbit, and held it out to him. "Thsay 'ullo to Teddy Rabbit, elsthe it'sth rude."

He resisted the urge to pick the little girl up and sweep her up off her feet to tuck her in his arms and carry her to her room, not feeling comfortable enough with her or her mother to presume such familiarity. He paused in the doorway to her room, which was charmingly and girlishly decorated, as she stepped inside and flung herself onto the bed. He smiled fondly as he followed her into the room, bending over to reach for the rabbit's paw and give it a handshake, as politely as one might when meeting a new friend. "Hello, Mr. Rabbit," he greeted the stuffed fellow, going along with the ruse, hoping the rabbit didn't talk back. "My name is Desmond, and I'm here to tuck the young lady into bed for the night."

The room, even in the moonlight, was bright and cheery, a happy place for a little girl to spend her days and nights, and Desmond was touched with the quiet caring that Piper had put into even this.

To his relief, no doubt, the rabbit did not talk back except with some very obvious help, showing off a lisp that was an awful lot like the one belonging to the small girl holding it in front of her face. "'ullo, Misthter Desthmond, do you like my flowers?" Lyneth beamed up at him, holding the rabbit up by its ears as she wriggled to kick her feet under the covers, apparently not needing or wanting more than the nightlight plugged into the wall for illumination.

"The title?" he echoed, once more lost in the flow of conversation and information she offered so easily but that was not so readily understood. She'd said she was from a different Earth, one that didn't know magic of any kind, not even in myth or legend, but that told him very little about who she was or what kind of life she'd left behind. He got the distinct feeling there was more she wasn't telling him, than what she was. He turned to follow her into the kitchen, reaching for her arm to turn her gently toward him, not allowing her to brush past him without helping him to understand. "What happened, Piper" How'd you end up here" Why are you so afraid of losing Lyneth' Talk to me. I'm not going to run away like a frightened child."

"Yes, my father is Lord Somerville, the Duke of Bath," she began, but stopped as his fingers curled to her bare arm, turning to face him with wide eyes. She could see in his eyes the desire to know, not just what had happened, but to know her, and it caught at her heart. That treacherous heart that had poisoned two men against her already. She swallowed, biting her lip, unable to keep the fear and sadness from showing in her eyes as she spoke again. "That isn't something that can be explained in a few sentences, Des," she told him quietly. "If I start, you could be here for hours."

His hand slipped away from her arm when she turned to face him, and he couldn't help but notice the fear and sadness in her eyes. What was she so afraid of? Was she afraid of him or of something else? Of being hurt or of doing the hurting" "I already told you, I have nowhere to go. Humphrey isn't going to send out a search and rescue for me if I don't come home right away. I'm an adult, Piper. I answer to no one but myself," he told her, trying to reassure her, to show her that he wasn't going to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble, though he still had no idea what exactly he was getting himself into. "Look, I just..." He sighed. "I'm just trying to help."

"Please ..." It was her turn now to lay her hands on him, catching his palm between her own as she turned fully to face him. "Des, I didn't mean to push you away, I just ..." She gave a sigh of her own, drawing him into the kitchen to pour out a couple of coffees for them both. "I haven't told anyone all of it," she admitted quietly. "I don't know why, but I want to tell you. You deserve to know what you're risking, if you choose to keep to that promise you made us." She handed him a cup, lowering herself to sit down at the table, her hands wrapped about her own mug. "Are you sure you want to know?"

He searched her eyes as she took hold of his hand, as if trying to search her thoughts, her heart, her soul. What was it that made her so sad" What was it that was so horrible she'd told no one, and why did she want to tell him, of all people" He let her draw him into the kitchen, taking the cup of coffee from her and finding a seat at the table. It wasn't the first time he'd put his own life on the line to help someone else. In a way, he did it every day of his life, knowing that one day he might cross the wrong person, but it was a chance he was willing to take, not out of a foolish sense of bravado, but because someone had to do it and there was no one better at it than him. "Are you sure you want to tell me?" he countered, not the lawyer in him speaking, but the man who, though he'd only just met her, was already starting to care for her.

She held his gaze for a long moment, trying to read him the way he had tried to read her. "Yes," she said simply. "I don't know why, but ....I do want to tell you."

And she did, laying out her life and its joys and woes for him in a careful narrative that left nothing out. She began with her family, the aristocratic world she had been raised in; took him through her years at Cambridge University, studying for a degree she had not finished and didn't have a use for; the disaster that had been her relationship with Terence, and its ending in her own jilting at the altar which had led to one chance encounter with a male whose name she had never learned and whose face she had never seen. She told him about her early pregnancy, the uncertainty and illness that had plagued her until she came to Rhy'Din; about her stupid plan to be married before the baby was born, and how that had come to be fulfilled with Oliver Granger, his cousin. She described Lyneth's birth, and the acceleration of her daughter's growth. And then came the recent darkness ....the abandonment by her husband and his replacement by something that bore his face; the way she had played along out of fear and watched as Lyneth was seduced slowly away from her; the relief and pain of that second abandonment, knowing she couldn't heal her daughter's pain at the loss.

By the time she reached the annulment of her marriage, and the buying of this house, Piper had cried herself out. Her coffee was cold, untouched, as tears dripped from her chin. And still she tried to smile and pretend she was fine, even as she added her worst fear. "I'm poison," she told the man she had only met a few hours before, the man who had made an impression on her aching heart and found a smile from her daughter she'd never seen before. "I drove Terence to another woman, I sent Ollie God alone knows where ....I even managed to run off some Fae thing when I was trying to play along. I almost lost Lynnie. I don't think I can take loving and losing anyone else."

Yet, even as she revelled in the heat and sense of sharing, of belonging, Piper felt herself beginning to tense as his fingers touched her cheek, the old familiar feeling that she was being cruel in giving out affection, in hinting toward the swell of her heart. No matter what he had told her, she knew deep inside that she was poison, and Des did not deserve to be sucked in and destroyed the way Terry and Ollie had been. Abruptly, she pulled back, her eyes wide with fear and apology. "I'm so sorry," she heard herself say, one hand over her mouth as though she could take the kiss back. "I ....I shouldn't have done that. I don't mean to ....I mean, well, you've been so kind to listen to me, I'm not taking advantage of that. I'm sorry."

Des drew back slowly, sensing her tension and reluctance. Unlike her, he regretted nothing, having kissed her for all the right reasons, though they'd only just met, but he didn't want to spoil whatever might be blossoming between them by pushing his luck. She obviously possessed a tender heart that had been broken more than once, and he didn't want to add to make things harder for her. His fingers grazed her cheek momentarily before he pulled his hand away, a reassuring smile on his face, even if he was a little disappointed. "Did you enjoy it?" he asked, trying to make a point.

Her gabbled apologies stuttered into silence, those large blue eyes almost disbelieving of his answer to her guilt. What kind of question was that to ask her" Did he think she went around kissing just anyone who happened to sit down with her" Swallowing the badly thought out incredulity, she bit her lower lip, dropping her hand from her mouth to reveal a tiny curve as a barely perceptible smile made itself shyly known. "I ....Yes," she whispered softly. "Yes, I did."

His smile grew and he extended a hand to wrap his fingers around hers. "Then, don't apologize," he told her, his blue-eyed gaze meeting hers, as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, but then he was moving to his feet. Not because he had worn out his welcome or needed to be anywhere. He'd already told her he had nowhere to go, nowhere but back to Maple Grove to face the music with Humphrey and make ready for the return trip to New York. "I should be going," he told her as he let go of her hand and pushed away from the table, his coffee barely touched. It was too tempting to stay much longer and too soon to allow himself to be tempted, for her sake anyway.

She didn't release his hand as he rose, lifting herself up onto her feet with him, lingering in the gently chaste contact of palm against palm with her small smile growing plainer on her face as it became clear that he was not running, or diving in. He was leaving things open to chance, yes ....but that was far better than taking or giving or forcing the fragile possibility of something more. If he came back to Rhy'Din. "Will you come and see us before you go back to New York?" she asked him softly, as much for Lyneth's sake as for her own. Her daughter had taken a liking to the unexpected Granger, after all.

The smile faded at her question, knowing he was running out of time for this little excursion. Tomorrow was Christmas, and he was due back in court on Wednesday. It didn't leave him much time. "I don't know. I can't stay much longer. I've got this big case pending." He shrugged his shoulders, even as she clung to his hand, blue eyes full of regret, but not because he'd met her. Regret that there simply never seemed to be enough time. "I have a few days off coming next weekend, if the offer for dinner is still open."

The fading of his smile swallowed hers up for a moment, before he made his regret clear. Her smile blossomed again, a slow nod of her head in answer to his hopeful suggestion that he was still welcome. "It is," she assured him. "I'd offer you the spare room, but I think you should use at least some of your time with your family. You'll never be comfortable with them if you don't take the time to know them and let them know you."

He shrugged again, a solemn expression on his face, not bothering to point out that they didn't really feel like his family - not yet anyway. They were just strangers who shared the bloodline of a father he'd never known. "I'm not sure it matters," he admitted, but it was all he said about that particular subject. If it hadn't been for Miranda, they all would have more than likely gone about their lives without ever knowing the difference.

Her other hand folded about his, nestled in her palm, deep eyes serious and calm as she spoke. "Family is important, Des," she told him quietly. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have so many of them in one place that is so easy to get to." One shoulder rose and fell in a gentle shrug, her sadness returned for a brief moment at the knowledge that her daughter would never seen the Earth her mother came from. Lyneth would not survive more than a few hours there, with no magic to bolster her life force.

Des remembered the story she'd told him about her own life, about Lyneth's inability to ever visit her mother's home, about the possibility and danger that Lyneth's father might one day try to steal her away to God knew where, and he found himself stepping closer, tugging one hand away from hers so that he could touch her cheek once again, if only to make a point. "I'm not running away. I'll be back. I promise." This time, it was his turn to initiate the kiss, tilting his head slightly so that their lips fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. Unlike her kiss, his was softer, gentler, but with an underlying heat that smoldered with promise for something more.

She got the point, her smile beginning to grow as he leaned close to her, as his lips caught hers in his own kiss. She trembled just a little, unused to gentle affection that wanted nothing more than to be enjoyed in the moment. The last male who had kissed her had been wearing Ollie's face, going through the motions of making love by means of some strange goodbye as she quaked deep inside. Under Des' lips, Piper felt herself relax, the fear she'd been holding onto for so long pushed aside with terrifying ease. She didn't want him to go, but ....if he didn't go, he couldn't come back.

Once again, he wasn't sure what was going on between them, but he felt something with her that he haven't felt in a long time, or maybe just hadn't let himself felt, the wall he'd built around his heart collapsing, if only temporarily. He wasn't sure if it was going to work - her life was here and his life was back on Earth - but he didn't want to think about that now. He'd think about that later. He drew a soft breath as he broke away from her lips. It would have been so easy to take advantage of her, to take her to bed, to erase the memory of any other man, but for once in his life, he wanted to take it slow, to do things the right way. She deserved that much from him; she was too important to take for granted. "I have to go," he told her quietly, knowing if he stayed any longer, they might both regret it in the morning.

She lingered close to him, her breath mingling with his even as he drew back, her eyes locked with his. "I know," she nodded once again, her voice quiet, gentle again in the near silence of the house. "I should get to bed. Lynnie will be up early in the morning." Her lips quirked in a wry smile, one hand rising to tentatively stroke his jaw. "Happy Christmas, Des."

He returned her smile, hopeful this was the start of a beautiful and meaningful relationship. Time would tell. "Happy Christmas, Pip," he replied, shortening her name without even realizing it. He brushed a final kiss against her forehead before he pulled away from her completely. "Give Lynnie a kiss for me," he told her, unsure why he was saying that either. It just seemed the thing to do, the little girl effortlessly melting his heart, along with her mother, where so many others had tried and failed. He turned away to retrieve his coat from where he'd left it laying against the back of the couch before he changed his mind.

"I will," she promised, stepping back as he turned away, curling her arms about herself as she watched him take his coat back from where he had left it. The hope was there, burning brightly, that perhaps this time she'd do things right. Perhaps this time she wouldn't destroy the man who was already on the verge of softening the hardness she had gathered about herself in defense against the worlds that had delivered her so much pain. And perhaps this time, Lynnie would find someone to love with her, and not instead of her. "Drive safely."

He threw the coat over one arm, rather than over his shoulders and back. He had the memory of her kiss to keep him warm, after all. He headed for the door, one hand on the doorknob before turning back, smiling back at her with a look of hopefulness on his face. "I'll be back," he promised again, and then he turned and slipped out into the night.

((D'awww ....oh, the possibilities! ::cackles:: Many thanks to Des' player for this scene - loads of fun to play!))