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“I also am not particularly a fan of these things,” a familiar voice spoke from behind Emile.
Emile blinked and turned to see none other than Bluebird standing behind him, fully decked out in his usual costume. Though it was not the first time Emile had seen it up-close, he was still impressed by how well put together it was. Many superheroes as Emile understood had haphazardly constructed costumes, but Bluebird’s was rather polished much like the man himself always seemed to be. Of course, considering that he’d been a superhero for three decades, he guessed that was to be expected. Emile gave the man a half smile. “It is not something I’m particularly used to,” he admitted.
“It’s Rhea’s way of saying thank you, but she and Minnie do get overzealous at times.” Emile tried not to be startled by the casualness of the way he referred to Mayor Silvia and her wife. He guessed the superhero probably had the right at this point.
“‘Overzealous’ is a word for it,” he commented while looking around. The mayor had thrown a rather lavish party complete with foods that Emile did not know the names of, an open bar, and an actual orchestra. He shifted his weight back and forth. “I didn’t exactly do it for thanks.”
“She knows,” Bluebird assured, “but she still insists on saying thank you.” Emile didn’t really think offering free therapy sessions for people involved in an event like a school shooting called for an actual personal thank you from the mayor or an invitation to a party like this, but it’s what had happened.
“I imagine you’ve gotten plenty of such thankyous over the years.”
“Many more than I am comfortable with,” he said, and Emile could have heard the truth in the statement even if he hadn’t had many in-depth talks with the man before. “Yet, I am not allowed to refuse. At least not all of them. It is ‘impolite.’”
By the way he said it, he clearly cared not for being ‘polite,’ but someone in his life did. There was a fondness to the frustration the word was said with. Emile had never dared to pry, but he’d come to the conclusion that Bluebird must be in some type of committed relationship, likely a marriage, over the sessions they’d had after the school shooting.
Emile had not expected either to respond when he’d extended both Bluebird and Shadow Caster the offer for them to have in mask therapy sessions after the event. Yet, Bluebird had accepted the offer with thanks and Emile was happy to be able to help him with parts of his life he likely couldn’t talk about with most people.
Now they were, well, perhaps not friends as Emile had never seen his face, but friendly.
“Well, I’m glad I at least have someone to talk to.”
“Ah,” Bluebird said. “Actually, I was just about to take my leave, but if you are looking for company tonight… do you see that man over there?” he asked, pointing. Emile turned in the indicated direction at a clearly bored man sitting at a table. “Any first impressions?”
“Er…my age?” Emile said, confused about what was going on. “Cute?”
“I noticed him looking at you earlier in the evening. I believe the phrase is ‘checking you out.’ You should initiate a conversation with him.”
Emile blinked. Was… was Bluebird attempting to be his wingman? He opened his mouth to respond.
“I really must be going now,” Bluebird interrupted before he could. “Have a nice evening Dr. Picani.”
He was gone the next moment. Emile looked at the place he’d been. Well that was odd behavior. He glanced back at the man Bluebird had indicated and then down at the barely touched drink in his hands he’d more been using to prevent people from offering him more drinks than actually drinking.
You know what? Why not?
Emile crossed the room to the small table the man was sat up. He looked up as Emile approached.
“Emile,” Emile introduced himself and stuck out a hand.
The other man gave him a once over and then smiled. “Remy,” he replied and shook his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Remy.”
Remy tilted his head at him and then kicked out the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”
“Sure,” Emile obliged while sitting down.
“So, what brings you over here?”
“It’s a party and I got tired of being alone.”
“Well,” Remy said with a slow smile. “Personally, I’d be delighted to keep you company, but how on Earth did you end up coming to a party alone?”
Emile shrugged. “I don’t have many friends in the city. I’m pretty new in town and I’ve been busy.”
“Hmm, and busy with what?”
“I’m a psychiatrist. I moved to the city to start my own practice.”
Remy’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Picani,” he said.
Emile coughed a bit awkwardly. “Ah, yes, I am. You’ve heard of me?”
“Babes you’re on The List. Of course, I’ve heard of you.” He flashed Emile a smile, eyes alight. “The List didn’t say you were cute though.”
Oh. Okay, they were really doing this.
“I, uh, also think you are cute.”
“Well that’s fucking fantastic news.”
Emile bit back a smile. “So, what about you?” he asked. “Why are you here?”
“I was invited since I’m a nurse, but I was going to skip out on it until a friend made me come.”
“Oh, you’re a nurse? What kind of nurse?”
They kept talking as the party continued around them. It turned out they actually had a lot in common including a similar taste in music, an affection for coffee (though Remy’s seemed a touch more intense than Emile’s if his stories were to be believed), and a taste for donuts.
“There’s actually a really good place for donuts a couple of blocks from here,” Remy told him. “It’s one of the only ones I’ve found that is actually open late instead of just in the morning. Which considering I am not a morning person, is a godsend.”
Emile chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Well, I think we’ve probably stayed long enough to be polite by now,” he said. “Would you want to go there now?”
“Aw, gee, I totally would doll, but I’m here with a friend who…” he paused. “Actually, has been suspiciously absent for quite a long time.” Emile watched as he searched in his pocket for his phone and glanced at his texts. “Those. Bastards.”
“What?” Emile asked amused.
Remy frowned at his phone and typed something back. Emile couldn’t make out what it was, but it was in all caps. “I came with my friend because his husband couldn’t come, but apparently his husband ‘got off work’ and now they ditched me!”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Emile said not feeling sorry in the least.
“The assholes are probably having car sex right now,” he mumbled.
Emile’s lips twitched and Remy glanced up at him.
“Mind being a vengeance date?” he asked.
“That depends, what does a ‘vengeance date’ entail?”
“Well,” Remy said leaning forward a bit. “It’s just like a normal date, but I take a lot of pictures of the hot guy I picked up and post them to social media so everyone knows I had a good time despite them abandoning me.”
Emile chuckled. “As long as I get a normal date next time.”
Remy scrutinized him for a moment. “Deal,” he said.