Lupus was in his own room, in his own bed, sleeping peacefully. Soon Rentic would come to wake him for breakfast. Mozelle would help him dress, and he'd go to the kitchen to join Gaius and Patenic for some of Malanda's excellent food. The thought of a family breakfast was appealing, but his mind backtracked quickly to something even more pleasant.

Mozelle. During the short time she had really been his, he insisted that she sleep in his bed, and now he was spooned against her back. He could feel her curly hair tickling his nose, and he was tempted to nuzzle into the curls. Something stopped him, though. *Phew. What did she eat last night?*

He opened his eyes to find golden eyes staring into his own. Stinkpot was curled up on his chest, his long whiskers twitched forward to brush Lupus' face. The little tabby cat noticed that his human pillow was awake and said something in cat language that probably translated to, "Well, it's about time! My dish is empty."

Lupus sighed, stroking his head. "Cat." Stinkpot mewed, patting his nose. "Hungry cat." Lupus pushed the cat off, then got up. Lupus slept nude, and he decided he'd better put something on. The bags of clothes they'd purchased the day before were on the floor nearby, and he rummaged in them, coming up with one of the packages of underwear. He turned it over in his hands, poking at the clear, shiny stuff held the garments, then decided not to open it. He had no idea if there was a right way and a wrong way, and he didn't want to be scolded for ruining anything. He started to put on the pair he'd worn the day before. After a moment, though, he stuffed them in the bag. If Mozelle insisted, he'd wear them, but if he wore trousers, there was no reason for her to know differently.

He smiled as he reached for one of the pairs of pants. *Or perhaps we'll make up. She could find out then, but I think in that case I'll be able to distract her from being irritated.* Stinkpot, weaving back and forth near his feet, meowed a bit more sharply this time. "Yes, yes. Impatiens." He considered a couple of pairs of pants, but finally settled on some made of black, stretchy material--with a solid waistband. Mozelle had showed him how to operate the fastenings, but Lupus didn't like the sliding thing. He especially didn't like the idea of all those tiny, rough metal teeth so close to his private parts. He was able to just pull these up, and settle the waistband just over his hips. Hooking his thumb in the waistband, he stretched it experimentally, marveling at how it sprang back to snugness. "Ee-lah-stick," he murmured, shaking his head in admiration.

He decided that was enough clothing for decency's sake, and, ignoring the shoes, walked into the kitchen. Stinkpot followed him quickly. Even if Lupus hadn't seen where Mozelle stored the cat food the day before, he would have known. Stinkpot parked himself in front of one cabinet door, staring at it intently. Lupus opened the cabinet (swinging the door experimentally to admire the smooth action of the hinges), and found the paper bag with the smiling cat on it.

He opened it and poured a few of the nuggets into his palm, examining them. He saw that they were different shapes: exes, circles, triangles, and... a fish? Lupus picked out the fish shaped nugget and examined it, then sniffed it. It did have a very faintly fishy smell. Stinkpot whined at him, and Lupus dumped the rest of his handful into the dish. The cat promptly began to gobble, tail waving happily. "Avarus." *Well, he certainly seems to like it.* Lupus hesitantly nibbled the fish. He made a face and spit the morsel into the sink, then finished filling the cat's dish. //"You don't have to worry about me fighting you for that."// His stomach rumbled, and he looked down at it. //"You can't possibly want more of that."//

He decided that he'd have to see to breakfast himself. He had a feeling that waking up any woman, who wasn't legally obligated to obey, to cook wouldn't be a good idea. He started looking through the cabinets. There were a lot of sealed metal cylinders, with pictures of various foods on them, but he had no idea of how to open them. He located a small box made of stiff paper. There was writing on it, and he spelled it out, remembering the alphabet he'd learned the night before. "P-o-p T-a-r-t-s." The picture on the outside looked promising--it seemed to be some sort of pastry, and the box had already been opened. There was a flat paper package inside. He sniffed it, and his mouth started to water. He couldn't identify the scent, but it was sweet.

He tore open the paper to reveal two thin, flat pastries, both glazed with a thin, hard white icing. The delicious aroma was stronger, and he took a big bite out of one of them. His eyes flew wide as the taste flooded his mouth. It was one of the most delicious things he'd ever tasted! He chewed rapidly and swallowed, eager for another bite. As he munched, he peered at the inside, trying to figure out what the filling was made of. All he could see was that it was brown. He looked at the box again, hoping for a clue, then looked up sharply when he heard a knock.

The sound wasn't coming from the front of the house, but from the kitchen door. Lupus knew that it led out to the strip of grass that ran between the neighboring houses, allowing the house's occupants to exit near the gate in the back yard fence. He glanced back toward the bedroom, and the knock came again. If he didn't do something soon, Mozelle might be awakened. He went to the door, took a moment to figure out how to disengage the lock, and opened the door. There was a plump, elderly woman standing outside, hand raised to knock again.

Mildred Clavell let her hand drop, staring at the young man who had opened the door. For an instant she thought it might be Mozelle's brother visiting, but this young man, though far from dainty, was not nearly as big. His hair was almost black instead of brown, and though it was longer than Mildred thought was strictly neat, it wasn't nearly as long that of Mozelle's brother, who sported a very healthy ponytail.

For the next few moments she thought with alarm that he might be an intruder, but she quickly discarded that idea. He just looked too at home. He was bare footed and bare chested. *And very nice, too,* she thought. She might be old, but she'd never be too old to look, and appreciate. He was also eating a Pop Tart. That seemed to indicate that he had been made welcome. She said faintly, "Excuse me?"

He swallowed the mouthful he'd been chewing, seemed to think for a moment, then said carefully, "Good morning."

"Good morning. I... Is Mozelle at home?"

"Sleeping." He glanced up at the sky, then back at Mildred, and smiled. "Very early."

"Oh, yes, it is. I'm sorry. I just thought... She'd mentioned before that she'd like to go garage sale cruising with me some time, and there are several good ones starting today, so I thought I'd see if she was interested." He was nodding agreeably, but looking a little blank.

Lupus had been raised in a society that valued hospitality, and he didn't want Mozell to lose respect from her neighbors because he acted rude. He stepped to the side, bowing, and gestured. "Come in."

"I don't know..." *Well, he doesn't really look dangerous, but maybe I ought to check things out. Besides, I'm as curious as a sack full of cats.* "Thank you."

She stepped inside, and he shut the door. He offered her the second Pop Tart. "Cake?"

"Uh... No, thank you. I've had breakfast. I don't believe we've met. Are you a... friend?"

The smile broadened, and his eyes glinted merrily. Mildred could feel herself starting to blush. Mozelle was a grown, single woman. Just because Mildred had never known her to have an overnight guest, it didn't mean she never would. He started to say something, just as Mozelle, dressed in a long sleep shirt, came shuffling into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Lupus, you aren't trying to cook, are you? You're a long way from... Millie!"

The last exclamation was a squeak, but Mozelle felt rather proud that she'd managed coherent speech at all before getting some caffeine in her system. Add to that the shock of finding her sweet little old lady next door neighbor (the one who baked her cookies and worried about her never having dates) talking to her half-naked houseguest, and she was pretty sure she qualified for catatonia. All in all, a little squeaking was to be expected.

But Mildred, though looking a bit befuddled, didn't seem the least bit apprehensive or condemning. Well, that would be like her. Mildred was the one who insisted on throwing a baby shower for a local girl who turned up with child, but without husband. She was the one who had been known to stop and hand one of those 'WILL WORK FOR FOOD' sign holders something out of her own bag of just purchased groceries. She was the one Stinkpot ran to when Mozelle refused to feed him canned food till he buckled down and ate the dry. If anyone would be tolerant of finding a semi-clad strange man in her unmarried neighbor's kitchen at an hour that indicated he'd been there all night, it was Mildred.

Mildred felt relieved to see her friend whole and healthy, if a little startled. "Hello, dear. I didn't mean to intrude, but your friend here graciously invited me in. I just came by to see if you were interested in making the garage sale rounds with me today." She eyed Lupus. "But I'll understand perfectly if you have other plans." Mozelle was blushing deeply. Mildred thought it was very cute. Mentally she added, *And it's about time, young lady.*

"Oh. Thanks, but I don't think so. I have a guest..." She looked at Lupus, then Mildred. Mildred, amused, thought that her brain must be racing ninety miles an hour. "He's... he's..." She smiled brightly, but her eyes were a touch desperate. "You know how I've told you that you can sort of meet people from all over the world on the Internet? This is Lupus--he's from Italy. He just came over, and he needed a place to stay for awhile. He's..." Inspiration seemed to strike. "He's really my brother's friend! They belong to a history role playing group--ancient Rome." Her voice trailed off, as if she had run out of steam.

Mildred nodded. "How nice. How long will he be staying?"

Mozelle seemed to give up. She put a hand on her forehead. "I have no idea."

Lupus had squatted down to pet Stinkpot. The cat never stopped eating, but did lift his eyes toward the man in an 'it's hard to be adored' expression. Mildred leaned toward Mozelle and whispered, "Isn't it nice that your brother's friend is so good looking?" While Mozell was blinking at her, she raised her voice to a normal level and continued briskly, "Well, we'll have to get together. You two can come over for supper sometime. I'll keep my eye out for any of the things I know you like, dear." She smiled at Lupus. "It's been nice meeting you, young man."

He stood, and bowed to her again. "Noble lady."

Mildred pressed a hand to her chest, surprised to feel herself blushing. "Oh, my! You've got yourself a charmer here, Mozelle."

Mozelle gave Lupus a wry look. "Don't I know it."

She closed the door after Mildred, then turned to stare at Lupus. His smile faltered. "I did wrong?"

"Were you in the kitchen when she knocked?" He nodded. "No, you didn't do wrong. She'd have known that you were in here, and if you hadn't let her in she might have gotten worried and called the police. I'm just glad it wasn't my neighbor from the other side. Mrs. Clutterbuck would have spread the word that I was throwing orgies."

Lupus frowned. //"We would sue her for slander. I wouldn't allow anyone to defame you like that."//

Mozelle sighed, but she smiled, too. "I can't remember any man ever wanting to defend my honor." She pointed at his hand. "You've gotten into my Pop Tarts."

"Pop Tarts? Strange name, but delicious. Mozelle," he pointed at the inside of the pastry. "What? Not fruit."

"No, it's chocolate."

"Chah-coh-lit?"

Her eyes rounded. "That's right! You didn't have chocolate back then." She giggled, putting a hand over her mouth. "Your first taste of chocolate! I'm corrupting you. Still, I guess it's a fair exchange."

She didn't expect him to catch the nuances of that last statement, but his expression sobered. He reached out, laying his palm against her cheek, and said quietly, "No, Mozelle. Not corrupt, never that. Still pure, in all that matters."

She stared at him, feeling warmth welling up inside her. *Oh, no you don't, Mozelle! The man used to own you. Worse still, he thought it was right and proper that he own you. He was going to let them turn you over to that shit Celsus... But he didn't. He was going to let me out. He could have gotten in serious trouble for that. I'm pretty sure that helping a slave escape was a major no-no back then. Damn. I am going to have to consider forgiving him.*

Lupus could sense that Mozelle was having some sort of inner debate, but all she said was, "Those are good, but you need something to cut the sweetness a little. Sit down, and I'll get you a glass of milk." As he sat, she reached for the refrigerator door, but paused. "And Lupus? Next time you answer the door, wear a shirt. We have a lot of senior citizens in the area, and some of those dirty old broads don't have strong hearts."