"This is unbelievable," I shake my head.

"You keep saying that," Daniel smiles. He seems pleased that I'm reacting so enthusiastically. I probably look like a puppy experiencing water or snow for the first time but I can't help it. I always imagined I would finally take a trip out of the country when I graduated college and had a real job. But I didn't even need to get on an airplane or take my passport. I just held a boy's hand and now I'm sitting at a café in the corner of Paris.

"That's the Eiffel Tower," I tell him pointing. "It's right there."

"I know," he assures me with another smile. "I told you I knew a nice place for breakfast."

"This is so crazy," I shake my head and take a sip of coffee. "French coffee," I muse shaking my head again. Daniel eats some cheese and grapes off the plate in front of us.

"Have you ever traveled before?" he asks.

"No," I tell him. "I've been to a few different states back home but I've never left the country."

"You know," Daniel says. "I feel like for someone who I stumbled upon half naked in her bathroom I really don't know you as well as I should."

I blush from the memory. God that was embarrassing. "What do you want to know?"

"Well," he says. "It takes a very special person to accept what I've told them. It also takes a special person to just trust a stranger to take them to a different country. What if I meant to leave you here?"

I shrug. "After what I've seen it wasn't that hard to accept what you said. Besides, I'm always up for an adventure. Even if you did leave me here I'm not entirely sure I would regret it."

Daniel shakes his head. "What's your last name?"

"Fields," I say without hesitating.

"Marley Fields," he says my name.

"Daniel Ross," I say his name like he says mine. "Why are you so interested in my name?"

"I like the way it sounds," he says and leans back in his chair. "What's your favorite color, Marley?"

"Green," I say. "But sometimes I think I might like others, but green seems to be the most reoccurring choice. What's yours?"

"I'd have to say green as well," he nods. "It seems to be a solid choice."

"I think so," I agree.

"Siblings?" he asks.

"Just me," I shake my head. "You?"

"Just me," he nods. "I think my parents wouldn't have minded having more children but my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer when I was five which made things impossible for them to have more children."

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "That's gotta be hard."

"It was, but she's fine now. A fighter and survivor, she works in marketing for research companies to raise awareness for different diseases. She's always traveling off to new places to go to fundraisers and events. She's pretty amazing."

"She sounds lovely," I tell him honestly and he smiles at me. "What about your father?" I ask. "What does he do?"

"He's a businessman," he says plainly and offers no other explanation. "What about you, what do your parents do?" he asks, turning the subject away from his father.

"My mom stays at home," I tell him. "She works freelance now, writing one thing or another. Dad works in an office. I'm not really sure what he does exactly, something with insurance and a lot of papers."

"Sounds enthralling," Daniel says.

"Very," I assure him and smile.

"Would you like to take a walk?" he asks. "We could get a closer look at the Eiffel Tower."

"I would love to," I say earnestly.

Daniel calls the waiter over and speaks something to him in French. He doesn't hesitate while he speaks and I'm amazed at how easily the words come out of his mouth. "Do you speak any other languages?" I ask.

"A couple," he nods. "I was taught at a very young age. We can go, I paid with cash." I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. Daniel leads the way and I walk beside him, feeling dizzy from swinging my head around trying to see everything that I possibly can.

"Does this ever get old?" I ask him. "Traveling wherever you want in the blink of an eye?"

"Never," he shakes his head. "I always thought that when I started using the pocket watch the world would somehow feel smaller. But it's actually been the opposite, it feels larger somehow. I'm more connected than most, but I'm still amazed sometimes by the places I discover and diversity of people. It's been amazing. I don't see how it could ever get old."

"I envy you," I tell him honestly. "If someone told me I could do what you do I would have given anything." We walk in silence for a time until we finally reach the Eiffel Tower. It's larger than what I expected and I pull my phone out of my pocket.

"Whoa," Daniel says. "Hold on a moment there, cowboy. No photos."

"What?" I ask. "Why not?"

"How would you explain a photo in Paris to someone?" he asks.

"It'll just be for me," I promise. "I won't post it anywhere...I just want to remember this, forever."

Daniel looks at me skeptically and I pout at him with a plea. "Fine," he caves. "But you have to swear not to show anyone or post it."

"I won't," I smile and flip the camera so it faces me. "Would you like me to take a photo of you two?" Another American tourist notices me trying to take a selfie. She smiles at me and I notice the group of people behind her all taking photos and looking at brochures.

"Oh, yes thank you," Daniel says and hands my phone to her. She nods and smiles and steps back to get some of the tower in the shot. Daniel puts an arm around my shoulder and we both smile as she takes a couple of shots.

"Thank you," I tell her when she hands the phone back.

"My pleasure," she smiles and goes back to her group.

I look down at the photo on my phone and smile. "It's a good photo," I tell him. He just nods, still unsure about me having a photo.

"So," he says. "We can wander around here some more if you'd like or we can go somewhere else."

"I want to see Big Ben," I say immediately.

"Big Ben?" he asks with a frown. "Really?"

"Hey, I know it's touristy but I mean we are standing next to the Eiffel Tower aren't we?" I remind him.

He rolls his eyes but agrees anyway. "Oh fine." He looks around and then motions his head in a direction away from the tower. "This way."

We walk a little ways down to a parked car. The glass is darkly tinted and Daniel stops by it and holds out his hand to me. I reach out and take it. "Remember," he says.

"I won't let go," I promise. He nods once and then he places his hand on the glass of the car. It's just like before. The glass turns grey and foggy and grows until we are swallowed by it. Again things are cold and grey and I shiver as Daniel and I walk forward.

"So what is this place?" I ask.

He just shakes his head. "Later." It only takes a few seconds for Daniel to stop at another opening and he presses his hand to it and then we're in London. He drops his hand from the glass of a building and I can't help but wonder if it took less time because London and Paris are closer than America and Britain. "Sorry," he says. "When I'm there I like to concentrate, it's not really conducive to speak when you're trying to find the way out."

"Sorry," I tell him. "I didn't realize."

"How would you?" he asks and then smiles to reassure me that it's OK. "Welcome to London." He doesn't sound excited at all.

"You don't like London?" I ask. "Aren't you from here?"

He looks at me like I've slapped him. "You do know that not everyone with a British accent is from London, right? Just like all American's aren't from New York and Las Vegas."

"Right," I say. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's fine," he says. I realize then that I'm still holding his hand. I snatch it away and apologize. "It's fine," he says again. "It's just a hand." Then he smiles and points across the street to where Big Ben is.

"Can I take a photo of this too?" I ask.

"Sure," he says. "I'll take one of you this time." I fish my phone out of my bag and hand it to him. "Stand there." He points and I stand and smile at the camera on the edge of the sidewalk. "Very nice," he says handing my phone back.

"This is so surreal," I tell him looking at the photo and them up to the large clock tower. "I can't believe I'm actually here."

"That feeling never really goes away," he admits with a laugh. "You think it would, after doing it so many times, but it doesn't."

"How long have you been doing this for?" I ask him.

He pushes his jacket back so he can put his hands in his pockets but doesn't answer. "Do you want to get a pint?" he asks.

"A pint?" I repeat. "You mean like a beer? It's..."I glance up at the clock tower. It's like ten in the morning."

"Welcome to London," he says again with a slight smile.

"I'm not twenty one," I tell him.

"Nor am I," he smiles. "You're in Britain now. We believe that if you're considered an adult at eighteen then you can drink like one too."

"Oh," I say. "Well, I guess so."

"You don't have to drink," he tells me. "But you should at least experience a pub. It's one of the better qualities of London." We walk down the street and I can't help but grin as a double-decker bus drives by. Daniel walks the streets like an expert and I follow his lead. I soak in the accents around me and snap photos of random things on the street. Finally Daniel grabs a heavy wooden door of a pub and holds it open for me.

"After you," he says and I step inside. The pub is quiet, given the early hour, but not entirely empty. Daniel points to a corner booth in the back and lifts a hand to the bartender—a tall black girl with an afro and a bandana with the British flag printed on it across her hairline. She smiles at Daniel and I when she sees him.

Daniel hangs his coat on a hook next to the booth and sits down after me. The girl from behind the counter comes over to us. "Daniel!" she says happily and loudly. Her British accent is astonishingly thick and different than Daniels. "It's been a while, how've you been?" Daniel stands and gives the girl a hug. He seems genuinely pleased to see her.

"It's good to see you. I've been busy with work, you know how it is," he turns slightly to bring me to the girl's attention. "Amelia, this is Marley, she's visiting from the states. Marley this is Amelia."

"Nice to meet you," I say holding out my hand. She shakes it.

"Pleasure," she says smiling. "A friend of Daniel is a friend of mine. You here long?" she asks.

"Erm, not really," I say.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it here. Daniel is a good guide," she smiles. "He knows all best places for a party too, so watch yourself." She winks.

"I really like your hair," I tell her.

"You're sweet." She puts her hands on her hips and Daniel sits down. "I like her Daniel, don't chase her off." Daniel just nods silently. "So what can I get the both of you?"

"Two pints," he says to her. "and two house specials."

"Sure thing Dan," she winks and walks away.

"She's cool and very pretty," I tell him. "I like her."

"Mel's a good friend," he nods. "I got stabbed a few years ago and she's the one that called the cops and kept me from going into shock."

My eyes widen. "Stabbed? What happened?"

"Bad choice of reflection," he says looking meek. His fingernails pick at a groove in the wooden table.

"Does that happen a lot?" I ask.

"Less now," he says. "I had to learn and it took a lot of practice to learn how to pick the right sorts of places to come out."

I think back of when Daniel appeared through my mirror. When I was lying on the floor in shock I remember him mentioning something. "You said that you've been shot at before?" I recall.

Daniel chuckles nervously from the memory. "Yeeeeah," he says dragging out the world. "That wasn't the best day for me."

"Were you hurt?" I ask.

"Luckily no," he smiles. "It was close though. Definitely the scariest moment I've had."

"Worse than getting stabbed?"

"Maybe not," he concedes.

"So what's the story behind the shooting?" I ask.

"I made a mistake and came through a rednecks mirror in Texas," he says. "I don't use that term lightly, either. This guy was drunk, he had a white wife beater and everything," he says and makes a motion in front of his stomach. "He had a beer gut and when I saw him I remember thinking 'I've found the ultimate stereotype of an American'. I was half tempted to take a photo but the guy was crazy, he pulled a gun on me and I dove back for the mirror."

He shakes his head. "I didn't travel for a whole week because I was so scared of something like that happening again. My grandfather eventually got me calmed down and talked some sense back into me."

Amelia comes back with two pints and waters. "You're food will be out soon," she says. "You need anything else?"

"No, thanks." She nods and walks away. I pull the dark beer toward me, the foam on top is right at the brim and I sniff it.

"You've never had a beer before?" Daniel asks.

"No," I tell him. "I've never really been interest in drinking and it's illegal for me until i'm twenty one in the states. My parents don't drink either and wasn't a party person going through school so I just never really thought twice about it."

"Well, cheers." Daniel lifts his glass and I lift mine to his. We both take a sip and I swallow quickly and make a face. Daniel laughs at my reaction and I push the beer away.

"That's disgusting," I tell him and take a drink of water to wash the taste out.

"It's an acquired taste," he says. "Don't feel pressured to finish it. I just wanted to be the one to buy you your first pint."

"You don't have to pay," I tell him, realizing that he paid at the café in France as well as the pizza that one night.

"Please," he says. "What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't pay? Besides, it's the least I could do after everything that I put you through."

"Yeah, but you took me to Paris and London, that in and of itself pretty much makes up for everything that happened before," I tell him.

But Daniel is already shaking his head. "No it doesn't, trust me, just let me pay for you. Besides, it's not like you have any money anyway."

I feel my face heat up. "Hey, just because I live in a tiny crappy apartment doesn't mean I don't have money. I have a job and I pay my bills. I might not have a lot of extra but I manage a living."

"Whoa cowboy," he says. "You're getting ahead of me. I only meant you don't have any of our money. You've got American cash and your credit card would probably send up red flags if a charge suddenly appeared in Britain, yeah?"

"Oh...right," I mumble. The cook comes out from the kitchen with two plates and sets them on our table. "Two specials?"

"Thanks," Daniel says and the cook walks away.

"Fish and chips? Really?" I ask, looking at Daniel.

"It's stereotypical but accurate," Daniel shrugs. "It's a good dish."

I pick up a fry. "I do love salty fries," I admit.

"Chips," he corrects me. "They are called chips."

"So what would I say if I wanted a bag of potato chips?" I ask.

"You'd ask for crisps," he says cutting into his fish with his fork.

"That's confusing," I shake my head. "I also don't understand why you have so many round-a-bouts."

"That's only because American's don't seem to know how to probably drive them," he says getting defensive. "They make complete sense from a traffic standpoint."

"Hmmm," I say, mostly just to egg him on.

Daniel and I eat in silence for a few minutes. I take a moment to allow my brain to process everything that's happened since I woke up this morning. An impossible task but I still try anyway. I eat the fries, chips, whatever they're called, while I look around at the different individuals sitting at the bar.

"What's on your mind?" Daniel finally asks.

"How long have you been doing this for?"

"You mean traveling through reflections?" he clarifies.

"Yes."

"Since I was fifteen," he tells me.

"Your dad gave you that watch when you were only fifteen?" I ask surprised. "Wow that's...well he must trust you a lot."

Daniel shakes his head. "My father didn't give me the watch," he explains. "My grandfather did."

"But I thought you said it was passed down from father to son?"

Daniel leans back and lets out a deep sigh. "That's a complicated story," he says. "I don't really feel like telling it right now, either."

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be nosy I'm just trying to make sense of all this."

"It's fine. You're allowed to ask questions," he assures me. "I expect you to, actually. It's only natural."

I glance over at Amelia who's laughing with one of her customers at the bar. She's wearing a red shirt that stands out among all the dark wood in the pub. She's like a spark in the room and glance back to Daniel. "Why are you sharing all of this with me? You don't even know me. For all you know I could be a serial killer or maybe now that I know your secrets I'll blackmail you."

Daniel smirks. "Well, you would probably go down in history as the first serial killer to use a lamp as her murder weapon." I blush. That was not one of my finer moments I'll admit. "But I told you before that I believe everything happens for a reason, Marley."

"That wasn't just some bullshit line that you give all the girls?" I ask.

"No," he says seriously. I look into his eyes a moment, but I still don't feel like he's lying to me. After all, everything so far that he's said has been true. I mean, I'm in London, if he wasn't lying about being able to travel through mirrors everything else seems trivial.

"Does Amelia know about you?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head. "No one outside of my family knows."

"No one?" I ask doubtfully. "You were fifteen when the watch was given to you. There's no way a fifteen year old boy doesn't have an ego the size of Mars and doesn't show off his new given powers. And you're telling me that you haven't used that trick on the girls or to show off?"

I laugh but Daniel just looks at me coolly and I swallow my laughter and take a breath. "No one knows, Marley," he says again. "No one."

"You're really not messing with me," I whisper.

Daniel shakes his head and looks away from me. His fingers find the cigarette behind his ear and puts it in his mouth. Again, I notice he doesn't actually light it. He stares across the room at nothing. He's got the same blank look on his face that he had when the pizza arrived at my apartment. I wait and eat another fry off my plate. Finally Daniel lets out a long sigh and looks at me again.

"I'd like you to meet my grandfather," he says.

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"I think he'd be able to explain some things better than I can..." he says. "Would you be willing to meet him?"

"I, well I guess so," I say. "You really want me to meet your family already?" I try to joke again but he's not having it.

"I would really like you to meet him," he nods.

"Sure," I smile gently at him.

Daniel pulls out his wallet and sifts through some bills and puts them down on the table. "Come on," he says. "We'll go now."

"Oh, OK," I say and Daniel stands and shrugs his jacket back on.

"You headed out?" Amelia calls.

"Yeah. Thanks for everything, money is on the table," he says.

"OK, bye! Come back soon!" She winks at me and we step into the street. We walk three buildings down into a department store. Daniel steps onto the elevator and we ride it up to the second level into the women's department. He finds a mirror situated on one of the back walls.

I take his hand and he looks at me, before he can open his mouth I say, "I won't let go." He offers a slight smile and nods his head and for the third time that day, we both disappear.