Blaine's godson liked it, too, when he would kneel down and talk to him. Of course Ian was only four... either way, he just wanted a respite from the rain in his face, and that irritating trickle of water down his collar from the umbrella's run off was better than torrents in his eyes.

There was a sparkle in his eye to match the sly grin that crossed his face. "I wouldn't mind that at all. Your lap looks mighty comfortable," he mused. She was too young for him to seriously consider sleeping with, but there was no crime in flirting. Thank God for that. "Besides, if I don't get an umbrella, I get to share yours, and I'm sure you'd be a lovely escort around the city."

He scooted an inch or so closer, which stopped that cold trip down his neck. "Are they the only ones who think they're at war? The United Earth should be able to wipe this place out if they actually thought it was a threat."