Nikki tried her best to suppress her giggles until they were out on the sidewalk.

When the door to the shop swung closed behind them she let go and broke into a full fit of laughter at the absurdity of it all.

“What’s so funny?” Indiana demanded. But it only made her laugh harder.

At last she pulled it together.

“You know, I’m not sure,” she said. “I would say it’s you, but I think it’s not. I guess I just never realized what a funny place Earth is.”

He shook his head and smirked at her.

She wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

“Let’s get lunch,” he said. “I think you’re lightheaded from lack of nourishment.”

“No,” she said. “First we’re getting you a wallet.”

“To put my money in?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s unusual to see an adult man put all his money on the counter like that to count it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“I guess because it could get stolen,” she said. “Besides, it’s disorganized.”

“Did you really think that woman was going to steal my money?” Indiana looked horrified.

“No,” she laughed. “No, but you should still behave as much like the rest of us as possible. Here’s a good spot.”

They dashed into a men’s clothing shop.

“My man,” the proprietor said in delight, clearly already sizing Indiana in his head and calculating the cost of a bespoke suit.

“We’re here for a wallet,” Nikki said quickly.

“Oh dang,” the shopkeeper said. “Somebody jumped you?”

“I have never had a wallet before,” Indiana explained.

Nikki forced a loud laugh. “He’s such a kidder,” she said. “He wants a leather wallet. Do you have anything in brown?”

The shopkeeper unenthusiastically pointed them to a display rack. “There you go.”

Indiana observed the rack with naked admiration. He turned it one way. He turned it the other. He spun it like a centrifuge in a NASA experiment.

Nikki grabbed a random wallet off it and placed a hand on his arm.

To his credit, Indiana stopped playing with the rack immediately and followed her to the counter, where she placed the wallet down.

The owner picked it up, looked at it, looked at it again, and then rang it up.

Indiana surreptitiously pulled the enormous wad of money from his pocket and began to count it in a strange, hunched over manner, almost as if…

As if he expected the man to try to steal it.

Well, at least he had listened to her.

“Twenty six fifty-seven,” the man said. “You want a bag for this?”

“No thank you,” Indiana said firmly. “I need to put my money in there.”

He handed over exact change.

The man handed him the wallet. In so doing, he flipped it over.

Nikki could see that the wallet had pink writing stitched onto it. The writing said:

For the small amount of money my grandson hasn’t spent…

“Thank you,” Indiana said politely.

“Don’t mention it,” the man replied in an insincere way, turning on his heel and walking toward the back of the store.

Indiana tried to put the rest of the money into his wallet, but it wouldn’t shut, because he was shoving it in there haphazardly, coins and all.

“Come on,” Nikki said. “We’ll figure that out at the café.”

“Okay,” Indy agreed.

He followed her out the door like an overgrown puppy.

Without really thinking about it, Nikki found herself heading into the café she frequented every Sunday. It was probably a mistake, but they were already halfway inside.

“Welcome,” the hostess said, arching her brows in a coy way at Indiana.

“Hey, there,” he said lightly.

Damn he was smooth. And it didn’t seem like he was even trying. She wondered if he had any idea of the effect he had on women.

The hostess’s cheeks went predictably pink.

But of course, she hadn’t seen his new wallet.

Though Nikki doubted if the woman would care, judging from the way she stared at Indy like she was starving and he was a juicy steak. He could probably get away with a lot before she stopped drooling.

“Is this good?” she asked, gesturing to a very nice seat by the big window.

“Thanks,” he said. “Nice view.”

“I’ll say,” the woman muttered under her breath.

Indiana either didn’t hear her or pretended not to.

“Your server will be right over,” the woman said a little mournfully before returning to her post.

Indiana immediately got out his money and spread it across the little table. He pulled out his wallet and set it on top of the pile.

But before they could organize everything, their waitress came over.

“Oh, wow, is all that for me?” she teased.

Indiana looked up at her worriedly, but when he saw her smile he grinned back.

“I’m just kidding, honey,” the woman smiled. “Dang, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look like a movie star or something.”

“I’m not a movie star,” Indiana said raising an eyebrow flirtatiously, and Nikki burst out laughing.

“He’s cocky, isn’t he?” the waitress asked Nikki. “All the good looking ones are,” she answered her own question in a mock-sad way, nodding her head up and down.

Though the hostess who seated them had been conventionally pretty - blonde, curvy and covered in make-up, their waitress was decidedly plump and more than a bit matronly.

But Indiana was basking in her good-humored banter and engaging with her - showing as much enthusiasm for her as he’d shown indifference for the hostess.

Nikki felt a pang of admiration for this man who had his priorities straight and valued humor over cool.

“What can I bring you?” she asked.

Nikki ordered for both of them.

The waitress dashed off to put their order in.

“So how do I do this?” Indiana asked.

“Most people sort out the bills and then put them in the biggest section with the larger denominations in back and the smaller bills in front,” Nikki explained, opening the wallet all the way to show him the compartment.

“Neat,” Indiana said. “It’s got a lot of hidden compartments.”

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“It’s an ingenious little thing,” Indiana said. He had discovered the change section, and was trying to see how to open it.

“That’s Velcro,” Nikki said. “You just pull it apart.”

“I don’t want to rip it,” Indiana said. “I just got it.”

“No, that’s how you open it,” she said. “You won’t rip it. Look.”

She took it from him, trying not to smile when he winced at the ripping sound when she pulled the pieces apart.

“Hey,” he said indignantly.

She closed the flap, then opened it again, causing the same noise.

“How did you do that?”

“One side is tiny hooks and the other is tiny loops,” she explained. “They cling to each other and then pull apart.”

“So it is okay for them to be wrenched apart?” Indiana looked skeptical.

“Yes,” Nikki said. “That’s their purpose.”

“Are they alive?”

“N-no, they’re made of nylon,” she said.

“Oh,” he looked a little disappointed. “I thought that might be their way of mating.”

Nikki stared at him in wonder.

“It’s foolish,” he said.

“No, no,” she said. “Earth is very different from Aerie. It’s natural to question things. But Velcro is not alive.”

“Then how do they reproduce?” he asked.

“How does who reproduce?”

“The wallets,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“My wallet, it has a grandson,” he said, sounding exasperated. “How did this happen if wallets can’t reproduce?”

Nikki gazed down at the embroidered phrase “For the small amount of money my grandson hasn’t spent” on his wallet, which took on new meaning when she saw it through his eyes.

She began to laugh again.

Indiana laughed too, though of course he did not know why he was laughing.

The waitress came back with their drinks.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” she said to an imaginary waiter and pointing at Nikki, who was still laughing.

She handed them their drinks and headed back to the wait station.

“Why don’t I see you laugh more often?” Indiana sounded serious.

Nikki stopped laughing. She pulled one of her curls down straight to her clavicle and let it spring back up before she could stop herself.

“Is it because you are undercover?” he asked quietly.

“I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” she said with a shrug.

“It must be hard not to be able to share what you’re doing with your friends,” he said.

His expression was sincere.

“I have a mentor in New York,” she told him. “I normally call her once a week.”

“What about your family?” he asked.

“They’re not that interested,” Nikki said, smiling and shaking her head.

“How could they not be interested in what you’re doing?”

“They just have different priorities,” she said.

“What are their priorities?” he asked.

“Well, they’re very traditional,” she explained.

He nodded, but still looked puzzled.

“I guess you don’t have much of a basis for comparison,” she laughed.

“I do not,” he concurred with a smile.

As much as she didn’t want to, she knew she was going to have to explain it a little better.

“Well, it used to be that people married when they were younger,” she explained. “Women stayed home and took care of the children and the house, and the men went to work.”

“Like on The Simpsons,” Indiana offered.

“Um, yeah,” Nikki said. “Anyway, my parents married young and my mom had me and my sisters. There were four of us.”

“Four children,” Indiana said. “That’s nice.”

“Sometimes it was nice,” Nikki said, trying not to remember the arguments and petty jealousies. “Anyway, my sisters are all married. Two of them stay home with babies. One works as an admin assistant but I’m sure when she has a baby she’ll stay home too. They take good care of those kids, volunteer in the community, and absolutely love their lives, and I can’t knock it. They’re all super happy. But it just isn’t for me. I never wanted to stay in Ohio. I wanted to see the world. And I always wanted to write.”

“And they don’t respect your decision?” Indiana sounded concerned.

“It’s not that they don’t respect my choices,” Nikki said. “It’s just that they aren’t that interested. And I think they worry about me. They think I’m lonely.”

“Are you lonely, Nikki?”

Damn.

She’d walked right into that one.

“I don’t regret my decisions,” she said carefully. “I wouldn’t be happy back in Ohio with my high school sweetheart.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he pointed out.

The waitress returned, sparing Nikki from having to answer.

“Okay, two bacon burgers with sweet potato fries,” the woman said, sliding the plates onto the table.

“Thank you,” Indiana said.

“You are very welcome,” she told him. “Have you ever had our sweet potato fries before?”

“I have never had sweet potato fries at all,” he said.

The waitress began explaining what made sweet potato fries the very best kind of fries.

Nikki watched as Indiana listened carefully and cracked the waitress up with his questions - some of which were genuine, while others were clearly intended to amuse her.

He was a good man.

He was the kind of person who would always be interested.

Keep an even head, Nikki, she told herself.

She could only hope that she would listen to her own advice half as enthusiastically as Indiana was listening to advice on proper French fry thickness.