The indignant "I don't have all day," interrupts Odd's daydream while he's waiting for Kiwi to finish sniffing a particularly interesting group of bushes. He chuckles to himself; now that tone, he thinks, is something he used to be familiar with. The woman continues, "so would you and your dog just move along..." but the words die on her lips when he turns around.

"Delmas?" Odd asks, incredulous, and she raises an eyebrow at him — yep, definitely Sissi. Just for good measure, he adds, "Elisabeth Delmas?" and watches in amusement as her eyebrow twitches.

"It's still Sissi, you twit," she hisses.

"Ahhh, Sissi!" he crows. Arms suddenly flung wide, he embraces her in a dramatic re-enactment of a hug, "It's so good to see you haven't changed! My favorite pain-in-the-mmph—"

Her hand clamped tight over his mouth muffles the rest of his words, and when he stares at her in surprise, she shrugs and says, "You were making a scene."

He grins and she pulls her hand away quickly, guessing his next move. She looks good, he thinks. It's easier to get a good look at her now, when she's standing still, and really — she doesn't look all that different than he would've expected. Same dark hair, same impeccable make-up and glinting jewelry, same great body. She always was gorgeous.

"Get a good look, Della Robbia?" she snaps.

He winks at her. "You look wonderful as always, Sissi dearest."

Kiwi starts sniffing at her red heels, and makes to raise his leg, so Odd quickly pulls him up into his arms. "What are you doing here?" he asks. He was pretty sure she hadn't lived around here in years, not since Kadic.

She dodges the question, waving her hand vaguely and answering, "Oh, family things, you know." And then, an afterthought, "What about you?" She laughs. "I thought you were planning to go tour the world and show everyone those ridiculous films of yours."

He shrugs. "Oh, I work at a dog shelter around here. It's really cool."

"You work at a shelter. Full of mangy mutts?"

"Aww, don't tell me you're still hung up on that thing with Kiwi. Look, he loves you!" He holds up Kiwi, who pants happily, wiggling in her direction. She shrinks back and frowns. "I don't like dogs."

"You should come visit! Take a chance! Who knows," he says, grinning, "maybe we'll make a dog lover out of you yet."

To his surprise, she actually pauses and pulls her cellphone out of her purse to take a look at the time. After a few moments of silence, her brow furrowed and her bottom lip teased between her teeth in thought, she says, "Maybe I will. But don't get any ideas, Della Robbia," she interrupts before he can reply, "I'm only going because I have a few hours and there's absolutely nowhere for someone with my tastes to shop around here."

"Well, Highness," he replies, offering her his elbow with a grin. "Be my guest."

The Dog House is in desperate need to repair, and the facilities consist of a revamped old house and a concrete slab of a building that serves as the kennels. There are few employees, and more supply then demand - not matter how many dogs they adopt out, it seems there's always ten more strays they have to turn away for lack of space. But Odd loves this shelter and every dog inside its walls fiercely, and he can't keep a note of pride out of his voice when he introduces the place to Sissi.

She wrinkles her nose and says, "It really is a shelter full of mangy mutts." She eyes the crooked frame on the front door suspiciously. "You gave up your plans to work here?"

It wasn't really that simple. But he just smiles, amused at the frustrated look she gives him in return, and opens the door with a flourish. Camille is at the front desk, and she looks up briefly before turning back to the files spread out in front of her, phone pressed to her ear as she hums in agreement with the person on the other line. "That's Camille," Odd says, "Jacques is probably upstairs — he lives up there," he adds as explanation.

Kiwi brushes past Sissi's leg and trots over to the far corner, circling a few times before settling down on a deflated beanbag. "Kiwi's like our mascot!" Odd continues, excitedly. He gestures to the flyers by the desk, which all sport his trademark image of Kiwi. His Lyoko emblem, back so long ago, but he can't really tell her that.

"That's... tasteful," she says, dryly.

"You've always been a wonderful judge of taste," he replies, deadpan serious. She blinks at him, like she's trying to figure out if he's joking or not, and then clearly gives up, turning her back. "If this is a shelter, where are the dogs?"

Odd bites back his first remark. Sissi, he thinks, you gotta love her, she just never changes. "In the other building," he offers instead.

She sniffs. "This place must be a total pain in the wintertime."

"You get used to it." Odd draws himself up to his full height, and sweeps a hand in the direction of the back door. "After you, Sissi dearest."

He has half a mind to release Sissi to the chaos of the kennels alone, but he isn't that cruel and, besides, she actually does look half scared to death. It's close to meal time, and as soon as he opens the door the entire row of dogs are barking at them in tandem. He throws his hands up in indignant protest. "I can't feed you all at once! And we have a special guest! I think I'm supposed to tell you to be nice to her."

Sissi smacks him on the shoulder and Odd amends, "Okay, be really really nice to her?"

She hasn't stepped out from behind him, and he slings a friendly arm around her shoulder, "Come on, I have something to show you."

They head past Mary-Ann, Tybalt, Mittens, and Norbert — who is cowering as much away from the stranger as she's cowering from him; Odd makes a note to spend a little extra time with his little scaredy pup when he can. At the end of the row, he turns Sissi to face the cage and grins. "Introducing: Salt and Pepper!" And he can feel it, against his side, Sissi just completely and undeniably melts.

They're adorable, two Maltese puppies just old enough to be out of foster care and onto the floor for adoption. Pepper is sprawled in an undignified heat on the floor, Salt chewing on her ear, and their cage is in disarray - more water on the floor than in the water bowl, a chew toy ripped to pieces. Odd groans.

"Sissi," he says. "I have to go get something to clean this up with— are you—"

She waves him away impatiently, already crouching down to coo at the puppies. "Go, Della Robbia, I don't need you as a chaperone."

"Oh yes you've been oh so brave," he replies with a grin, but she just waves him away harder, completely distracted. "See," he calls over his shoulder, "just find the right dog and everyone's a dog lover!"

When he returns with the mop, she's wiggling her fingers through the mesh. "Careful," Odd says, "they bite." She flinches back so hard she falls on her behind, and he cracks up so hard that he nearly drops the mop, only catching his breath once he's leaned up against the nearest cage with Mittens licking at his fingers.

"It's nice to see you haven't changed," she snaps.

"It's nice to see you're still as gullible as ever."

"I was trusting you! You work at a dog shelter! They're dogs!"

Okay. She did kind of have a point. He puts his hand up and says, "Truce?"

He doesn't get a reply, but she brushes herself off and gets off the floor, eyeing the puppies a little more carefully now. "Sissi. They really don't bite. Though," he laughs, "you might get a handful of puppy slobber as soon as I open the cage."

Odd's the one who gets the full force of puppy slobber as soon as he opens the door, both puppies going straight for his shoes. As soon as he tries to mop up the puddles of water, Salt attacks the mop and Pepper starts barking indignantly at his shoelaces. "I could really use your help," he calls.

Sissi frowns at him, crossing her arms. "I'm not going into that dirty hovel."

He leans the mop against the wall and picks up Salt, cuddling her close as she tries to lick his ear. "How could you resist this adorable face?" He blinks at her, giving his best rendition of puppy eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself Della Robbia."

"I could have meant the puppy!"

She stares at him. "I know you better than that." The funny thing is, she really does. He's actually a little surprised at how much he's enjoying her company.

"You know, I actually kind of missed you, Sissi."

She sniffs. "Flattery isn't going to work, either."

"Most girls would say otherwise."

"Most girls wouldn't get in five feet of you."

"I'm hurt," he cries, a hand clutched to his chest. Salt barks indignantly, rustled from her spot at his shoulder.

"Your ego can take it." She fiddles with her phone, suddenly distracted from the conversation. He hadn't even seen her take it out of her purse, but a low whine from the floor distracts him — Pepper's taken on his shoelace, and as far as he can tell, she's winning. "Okay, pup," he says, "We have work to do!"

Trying to mop around two energetic puppies is a feat all by itself, but he's had a lot of practice and he's cleaned a lot of cages, including plenty of ones with messes worse than this. After the floor is mopped, he sets to work collecting the tragic remains of a dinosaur chew toy, talking to the puppies as he works.

At the quiet click he looks up, and Sissi's standing nervously inside the cage, looking like she doesn't want to step anywhere she doesn't have to. Pepper runs over to greet her with a yip, and she carefully sinks to her knees in front of her. Pepper stops to scratch her head with a back leg and - yep, there it is again, the same melty look Sissi gave them when she first saw them.

"You do have a heart, after all."

She looks up at him, sharply, then reaches out to scratch Pepper behind the ear. Salt comes running over and sniffs at her knees, then gives her a big, slobbery kiss. "Ugh," Sissi says, but she's still smiling at them.

Odd dumps the ruined chew toy onto the blankets in the corner, and then gathers them all up in his arms to take to the laundry room. He slips past her and the puppies, and by the time he comes back with clean bedding and a different toy she's got the two of them climbing all over her lap.

"Why haven't you adopted any of them?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Kiwi gets jealous."

Sissi raises an eyebrow at him. "But, some day."

"No," he says, completely serious. "Kiwi's going to live forever."

He's pretty sure her responding why do I put up with you look is patented; he saw it directed at Herve or Nicholas more times than he can remember. Huh. He hasn't thought about them in a long time either. He grins at the image in his head: Sissi all indignant and her cheeks still rounded with the last of her baby fat, Herve picking at a pimple and staring at her with a combination of fear and adoration, and Nicholas drumming a rhythm on his lunch tray, completely oblivious to everything around him.

The door to the kennels bangs open, and Jacques comes in, starting up a fresh round of barking from all the dogs. "Dinner time!" He calls. "And then walks for everyone, we don't want any more accidents like the time — oh, Odd." He pauses in front of the cage, frowning in surprise. "I thought you were off today?"

Sissi shoves Pepper off her lap and gets to her feet, readjusting her skirt and fixing her hair. Jacques gives her a wide grin. "I'm converting an old friend to the ways of the dog lovers," Odd replies, as they step back into the corridor. "She didn't know what she was missing."

"I always welcome more into our ranks," Jacques says with a wink. "I'm Jacques. And you're—?"

"—Elisabeth Delmas!" Odd interrupts, before Sissi can reply. She sneers at him, and then draws herself up, dignified, and says, "It's Sissi."

"Well, Sissi," Jacques repeats, imitating her emphasis. "It's nice to meet you. But I-" he gestures to the growing roar of noise surrounding them, "-unfortunately have a house of hungry hounds to feed."

Odd groans and clutches at his own stomach. "Speaking of being hungry ... I'm starving."

"Don't tell me you're still such a baby when it comes to food."

"I'm still a growing boy."

She blinks at him. "You're twenty."

"A growing man!" He flexes his arm, winking at his own bicep. "I need frequent fuel to keep this svelte body in tip-top shape."

Sissi rolls her eyes, and then digs her phone out of her purse again. He catches a glimpse of a mess of reciepts and a tube of shiny lipgloss. Ignoring the noise of the dogs and Jacques' traditional meal-time singing, she frowns and punches in a few keys. Odd watches her for a moment, and then adds, casually as he can, "Do you want to come with me? There's this deli around here that makes sandwiches so good I could eat an entire row."

She glances up at him. "Are you asking me out?"

Odd raises his eyebrows. "I was thinking a meal between old friends—" he ignores her expression, "—but I wouldn't protest a date."

She doesn't say anything, and he holds a hand out to her, mock polite, but his intention is sincere. "Come with me, Sissi dearest?"

She takes one last look at her phone, a look flickering across her face that he can't begin to distinguish, and says, "I can't believe I'm saying this but." She raises an eyebrow as he wiggles his fingers at her, "Yes, fine, whatever, let's go."

"Sissi dear," he replies, grinning. "Call me Odd."