Heavenly aromas had led Bert to stray from his appointed rounds and cross the front step of the bakery.  He duly removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm. His eyes darted over the case of flaky sweet baked goods and he bit the inside of his lip slowly in anticipation of consuming something. His nostrils flared at the aromatic scent of rising bread.  

The customer in front of him was patiently waiting. He studied her briefly from behind, her long blonde hair complimented the baker's golden delights nicely.  Whatever the Almighty had given her was evident, even under a coat. Bert bit the inside of his lip again.  

"Plump and delicious." he muttered softly.

Delilah O'Connor was missing some things in her life... A good man and the good treats she stared at for the longest, indecisive for the moment as to what to get. Then she settled on the macarons that looked delectable... "May I please have five of those... Umm, a pastie too.... OH... Oh and... may I have some of your strawberry tarts, those are me favorite?" Her eyes lit up as the man behind the counter, a good looking man for sure. She turned when she got her bag and nearly plowed into the constable in her excitement to eat her sweet treats.

She was a lovely lass, with pretty blue eyes, a lovely smile, and waves of blonde that framed her face just right. She was definitely pleasantly plump. She dropped her bag in startlement. "Oh! Tis sorry I am, I am so clumsy...!"

Bert wasn't exactly upset when she bumped in to him. The happy accident allowed him a quick look all the way around her. Very tasty.. His truncheon had ridden up. That new fangled belt strap design was always getting caught on things.

Bert knelt down, placed his helmet on the floor and helped the blonde woman retrieve her fallen things. He normally had little time for women and their frivolousness, but he was on duty and heaven forbid he disgrace the uniform. Perhaps it was the sweet exotic aromas, and the flaxen hair that was making act more gentlemanly than usual.

"Careful, Miss. Don't want to drop that," he said jerking his chin towards the glistening scarlet delicacy. "I'm partial to treacle tart me'self." he said by way of conversation.

Dee gave a light smile as her eyes fell on the constable. "Why t'ank ye, sir, fer yer help." Then her smile brightened when he appreciated the tart as much as she! "Oh, tis me favorite too!" She gave a wide smile and straightened her form up. She then tilted her head, her chin moving toward her right shoulder and her eyes slightly closing in an almost flirtatious manner, "Me name is Delilah O'Connor... And yers?"

"I'm Constable Hailey, ma'am."

Had the baker added more heat to his fire because Bert suddenly felt quite toasty in his woollen tunic. He hesitated giving his Christian name to a member of the public, albeit an attractive one, whilst on duty.

"Constable," she murmured and lowered her lashes. She then smiled at him, and she said, "Tis lovely to meet ye." Her grin only widened and she took out the tart, breaking it in half and offering him the bigger half, "Since ye saved me tart, I think I will share it with ye," she grinned.

"Why thank ye." Bert replied gratefully accepting his half of the sticky sweet treat. As a trainee policeman in Middlesbrough, Bert recalled how he had been instructed: "A policeman should be morally upright with few vices." Bert tried his best to live up to those words, but the bakers shop was a regular earthly temptation for him.

"Are ye new to Whitby, Miss O'Connor?" he asked by way of conversation. Surely he would have recognised such a pretty face on his beat before?

"Ye're welcome." She gave a winsome grin and ate her half of the treat as well, giggling at the delicious flavor imparted upon her tongue. Well, she thought, that was delicious! "Oh, that I am, that I am," she said in reply to his question. "Have ye been here long, yerself?" Her eyes were bright with inquiry.

"About a year, Miss.  I'm from Middlesbrough originally. Yerself?" Albert said leaning towards the woman.  Albert suddenly felt rather warm in his uniform.  Had the baker and that new wife of his turned up the heat in those ovens of his?

"I've been here for, perhaps eight mont's," she said with her charming Irish lilt. She smiled at him and then tilted her head. "Perhaps ye'd accompany me to the market? Ye never know when a good, strong constable is needed ta save the day." She was clearly flirting with him. Her eyes twinkled merrily. "And ye look like a good, strong constable." She reached out and touched his upper arm briefly, lowering her lashes and biting her lower lip.