[Decisions, Decisions. She could hop on the back of Jack's pedal bike, accept that she'd have to put her arms around his waist to keep from falling off (or at least one arm on his waist and the other on her hat), and drop her guard that much more to accept his help. Or, she could refuse and walk back to town alone, still uncertain of where she was or how she could possibly get home.

One way or another, something told Fiona that Jack would remember her choice. She could make an enemy or a shaky ally. She just hoped she wouldn't regret this later.]

Fine. But make a move while I'm on the bike and your ass will be in the dirt so fast you won't have time to think of a witty pick up line. Got it?