Generally speaking Aidan was a good boy. He did the usual good boy stuff like helping old ladies cross the street, tending the garden for his landlady who was suffering from her arthritis and forming secret rebel groups to oppose the Renegades. What he usually did not do - what he didn't even dare to think about doing, on fact - were one-night stands. And yet there he was, having woken up next to the woman he had lusted half his life after. The thought alone - and that of the last night - were enough to bring a light blush to the Irishman's cheeks and make his heart go faster. He hadn't even known half the stuff was possible.
Fact was that even after such a night Aidan couldn't stop being a nice bloke. So, after having stared at Tracey for a little while with a dopey, love-sick smile on his face, the former Ravenclaw got up, pulled on his jeans and trudged into the kitchen to make breakfast where he was currently occupied making omelets. And freshly-pressed orange-juice. He tended to go the whole way when being a nice boy.