Joey sat on the park bench. To be honest he hated to be called Joey, it made him sound like a little kid, he thought, but what could you do? He was a successful business man, he liked to joke that he was semi-retired, though he was much to young to actually be 'retired', he'd built up several businesses to the point that they either ran themselves or he sold them for so much profit he didn't really have to work anymore. He'd taken up a life of wandering, not entirely aimlessly mind you, but rather going where the whim took him, living in one city or country for a while then moving on.
He was a large man, almost a giant, well over six feet tall and solidly built. Being on permanent vacation hadn't meant that he'd let himself go, either. His dark hair was neatly groomed, his face smooth shaven to avoid the inevitable comparisons to a bear his stature earned. If there was one thing he hated more than being thought of as a kid, it was being compared to an animal.
He looked around the large park, enjoying the summer sun, the smell of growing grass, the wind in the trees. No one tried to sit on the bench with him, which he rather liked as well, though really there weren't many people in the park this early in the day during the week. He smiled to himself, closed his eyes and leaned back, mind drifting off aimlessly. He was still drifting when a startled shout pierced his reverie, when someone plowed into his outstretched legs and bounced. He bolted upright, eyes flashing open, hands coming up...
It was a girl. That was all he noticed at first, the young woman sprawled awkwardly across the ground where she'd tripped over him, a look of confusion mingled with panic crossing her face.
"Help me, please..." she pleaded, her voice colored by some accent he didn't recognize, probably local. He looked about at her words, seeing the two rough looking men jogging his direction down the trail. A mild frown crossed his face, his dark eyes flashed with annoyance and he levered himself to his feet, brushing the creases of his dark trousers out by habit as he stood and took two long strides to intercept the young Turks.
"Two? You need two men to terrorize a bit of wee fluff?" he rumbled with a dismissive snort. The two men looked up and up, taking him all in. One looked nervous, uncertain, but the other pulled a knife and flicked it open with a clatter.
"None of you business, tiny. Walk away." Knife sneered. Joey sighed sadly. Always had to be the hard way.
"Can't do that, doesn't work that way." he shook his head sadly. "A gentleman doesn't walk away from a maid in distress, right or wrong." He waited for a long second for them to process it, "If you want to dance, then dance." He suggested, rather than waste time staring at them. The man with the knife took the invitation, leading with a strong stab. For all his size, Joey was faster, his hand coming up to clamp on the thug's arm with a crushing grip, though not without injury, the razor sharp blade laying open a streak of crimson along his palm as he moved. He squeezed, feeling bones grinding into fragments as the man screamed, dropping the knife as his partner took off at a run. Joey lifted the man by his broken arm until they were eye to eye.
"Care to try again? No? I suggest you leave as soon as possible then." He rumbled, dropping the man to the ground. As the man staggered off, clutching his ruined arm, Joey picked up the discarded blade, clucking at the cheap object, then with a grunt snapping the blade off and tossing the pieces into the trash can. He spared a single glance at the painful slice in his palm before turning to the girl still sprawled on the asphalt, breathing hard. Odd that she hadn't run, but not unsurprising he mused. As he walked over to where she half sat he took a good look at her, his first.
She was young, certainly that, younger than he expected. Her age was hard to determine, in part because she was so very small, tiny even. In addition to being short, she was slender, with comparatively long legs tucked into form fitting jeans that hung low on well curved hips, a zip up sweatshirt left a wide band of pale skin across her lower belly exposed. She looked up at him with a heart shaped face; large green eyes stared at him from under long dark hair. She was, he realized suddenly, gorgeous, flushed from the chase, the rise and fall of her breasts under her sweatshirt rapid, the flush of exertion coloring her cheeks. He took a second to compose himself, to put away his lust carefully before extending his uninjured hand to help her too her feet.
"It is safe, ma'am." he rumbled, "They won't be bothering you for a while." She stared at the giant looming over her before taking his massive hand in both of hers. He was surprisingly gentle as he pulled her to her feet, the insistent pressure suggesting that if he had wanted he could have lifted fully even if she'd fought him, and never noticed the difference.
"Thank you. I think they wanted to... to rape me." she suggested, dusting herself off. He appeared to think about it before nodding his agreement. She noticed the slow drip of blood... "Oh! You are injured! Let me see!" she took his hand in hers again, turning it palm up inspect the long, shallow cut.
"It's nothing. The sort of thing that is unavoidable when someone pulls a knife." Her hands, so tiny next to his caressed the uninjured skin, dabbing at the trickle of crimson with a bit of cloth she pulled from a pocket.
"It is not 'Nothing'... you were hurt helping me. It was a brave thing to do, very brave. Let me repay you." She pressed the handkerchief into his palm and turned, still holding his hand and began to walk away. To avoid embarrassing her he followed meekly.
As he walked he thought to himself that her stilted, almost formal way of speaking, combined with that faint accent, sounded incredibly sexy, but he put that thought out of his head immediately, doing his best not to follow the faint sway of her ass in front of him, but finding the swish of her dark hair equally compelling.
"Um... if you don't mind, ma'am, but where are we going?" he rumbled. It didn't matter much to him, but it did seem the polite, expected thing to ask. She dropped his hand, turning to face him, tiny hands on her hips as she looked up at him.
"I live just over there. I thought I would properly bandage your hand and treat you to a good meal as payment. You are not afraid of little me, are you?" she smiled mischievously, her dark, full lips turning up delightfully in amusement. He flushed, shaking his head.
"Oh, not at all ma'am, I just thought I'd like to know, less surprise that way." He stuck out his healthy hand again. "I'm Joey, by the way. Er... Joseph that is, but most folks call me Joey." She took his hand, despite the odd left-handed grip, her hand swallowed in his completely as they shook.
