sliceitwithwind

"Hmm..." she noted helpfully as she mulled things over. "Next time? Let me know if you want an easy out. I can call, or Pierce can...and ditching a party to consult on police work is hardly rude. In fact, it's civic minded." she offered.

"If we get your name in among the med staff or on the consult list of doom, they can even check up on your excuse and have it validated."

"I'll think about it." Dilan says, "I hate it but - well, it is part of the job. So."

Sometimes you just do the crap things.

"Just letting you know it's an option." she shrugged. She did press releases for much the same reason but...

...she hated to see people trapped.

And the restaurant was obviously hiding from them. Or seemed to be. She couldn't see any street signs. "So...where are we?"

"Thanks, Aya." Dilan says, brushing his hand against her shoulder in gratitude, "I appreciate it."

She leaned into the touch slightly. Off duty? Well, she was an incredibly tactile person. "Hey, Protect and Serve." she quipped wryly. "From anything we can manage. As long as you let us anyway."

Dilan is happy to leave his hand there, then. He's always an incredibly tactile person, "Man, the sheer number of tasteless innuendos you are leaving yourself open for there, Aya."

"Yes, but I'm in good company and need not fear my meaning will be mistaken." she pointed out simply.

"If it's easier on your mind though, I'll rephrase it to 'I like to help, especially with things people hate.'. Better?" she teased.

"Years and years of hanging out with people who will jump at the drop of a proverbial hat has made me sometimes say the joke before I realize that I'm saying the joke." Dilan admits, "So I apologize in advance, but only the once."

Sometimes the pretty girls take him up on it. Sometimes he even takes them up on that.

"No need for apology." she laughed "It happens?" joking innuendo that was. She'd get annoyed if it was constant, but hey, she could deal. "Admittedly, you can't be any worse than the precinct, and it's unlikely I'll have to explain what I actually meant afterward."

"Like I said, only the once. I am who I am, and that's part of who I am. I just usually aim for polite." he grins and drapes his arm across her shoulders, long practice with short women making his hand rest along her upper arm rather than trailing down her chest.

"Luckily, who you are happens to be likable." she noted, bumping her shoulder against his side slightly. She didn't mind the arm draping...

...it was actually kind of nice. Damn. The boys in the precinct would call her a sap.

"I promise that if it's ever too bad I'll swat you like I do the precinct boys."

Dilan guides her slightly sideways into the restaurant of his choice, holding up two fingers for the waitress with a grin, "It's one of my saving graces. If I weren't likeable I'd be Ienzo. I'll accept your swatting if I run over the bounds."

"Hmmm, Ienzo being another apprentice if I recall the file. Not one of the public ones though. What's so bad about him?" she asked curiously.

"And don't worry overly much about the swatting. With you I'd need a step stool, and they're rarely handy."

"Abrasive. He's got the personality of asphalt with carpet burns." Dilan says after a moment, "On a good day he's just that fake grass stuff that people who don't like lawns get put in. Astroturf."

"Ouch" she laughed. She'd hadn't forgotten about the synethesia thing, but it was really interesting to hear a person described that way. "Somehow I don't think you could pull that off even if you weren't likable. Tell me about the rest of your group?"

"Well." He thinks for a while, "Even is like my little brother. Not that I have a little brother, but you know. He's a sweet kid, loves to experiment with coffee and kool-aid, makes berry tarts every year. Al is one of my two best friends, the biggest damn human I've ever met, and even more laid back than I am. Braig is my other best friend - our moms were best friends and after mine died his took me in. I've been his responsibility, self-chosen, since I was three days old.

"Which doesn't mean he's not a self-centred asshole, just that he's my self-centred asshole and he's always dropped anything if I needed help."

"Now those first two I've seen in the public announcements." she admitted. "Even is the blond? He seems very...genuine. I'm glad that seems true. And Al...I just hope he doesn't end up bar fights." that'd be very, very bad. A human that size, well...there'd be shooting. Probably before the cops arrived.

"Oh...boy." she chuckled at the description of Braig. "Well, every self centered asshole needs someone to balance them out. I've seen the type when they don't have anyone...he's probably a far better person for having you." Madigan. Well. Madigan.

"He doesn't. He'd be too afraid of accidentally killing someone." Dilan says with a shrug, "Even is the blond human. He's not actually that much younger than me, just a lot less experienced."

Dilan grins at the last, "Yeah, probably. Certainly better fed, he can't cook anything but meat-on-a-fire."

"Thank god for...well, favors." Al just couldn't be summed as 'small' "And common sense." It meant less paperwork and happier times for all around. "Decent little brother type to adopt."

"...I know a few like that. Danny for one. I'm teaching his kid to cook so we can keep the health hazards down." she laughed.

"I just do marathon cooking sprees, and make him promise to be good." Dilan says with a laugh, "And we eat out a lot."

"Unfortunately, Danny's got enough years on me that making him behave is a little hard." she admitted easily. "Even when I do cook for him and the kid."

"So, mainly, Ben and I stick to guilt tripping him about his health and trying to make sure he doesn't order out too much..." and not to mention a cops salary wasn't well suited for such anyway.

"Braig is three years older than I am. And a foot shorter." Dilan says cheerfully, "It's the foot shorter that makes it possible. If you ever want some ideas on things easy to make and freeze just let me know. I've got Braig's mom's cookbook."

"I can swap you a traditional Japanese cookbook for a little while. It was my moms." she grinned. More recipes for freezables were good.

"But Danny's got twenty-three years on me. And a foot. The nine year old is my best options!"

"I can copy it out. Or abuse grad students and have them copy it out." Dilan says cheerfully, "Lilly is learning both Japanese and cooking, so she could use the practice."

Dilan, unlike many teachers, demands that his students live a balanced life. They may come out a little slower than other grad students, but he picks up many of their bills for the extra time, and they're saner.

"It's actually an interesting read..all hand written with journal entries in the margins." she mused. "Your student might enjoy it." Aya had. It'd been...insightful. Like a lot of things about her mother, she didn't necessarily agree with the ideas, but she understood them better after reading through.

Luckily for her embarrassment levels, the margins had run out of room before her mother met her father.

"I won't end up doing anything nearly as interesting with your book. Mainly, Ben and I will probably close our eyes and flip pages for something to try..."

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