Chapter Text
Fugo Dressel drummed his fingers on the smooth cotton tablecloth for the second time as he glanced around the dimly lit restaurant without moving his head from his other hand. He stifled another yawn and shifted his elbow.
He knew he had no right to be impatient; at Dratton’s insistence, he’d arrived fifteen minutes early for the blind date. At Oscar’s insistence, he’d worn both a suit and a tie. He’d already loosened the tie, but hadn’t undone the top button yet, which he thought he deserved some credit for. And at Python’s suggestion , he had made sure to use the time waiting to check the pronunciation of the recommended wines on his smartphone, so he wouldn’t sound like a fool when ordering. It hadn’t taken long, there were only five on the list and he wasn’t completely inept.
He fought the urge to pull out his phone again to play games—not that it had many, he was only permitted a basic model with cybernanny software installed. He did enjoy fucking with the spyware by searching up the most bizarre porn he could think of, which always led to a lecture in which Dratton would hilariously read out the searches while turning red with rage. However, he doubted the elegant waiter or any other customers would find it amusing if they read something like ‘ naked lady dances in spaghetti NO meatballs xxx vid free no virus ’ over his shoulder.
And, he reluctantly admitted, although he loved messing with Dratton in private, he actually didn’t want to embarrass him in public. Not only had he given him a job—and an outlet for his fire powers—but he had been the one to arrange this blind date. It’d been about five years working with the man, and it seemed that Dratton now respected him enough to send him out unsupervised to a fancy restaurant, in hopes of a potential romantic entanglement. That meant something, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up.
Fugo hadn’t really thought much about dating on his own. He was busy enough, and his job was dangerous enough, that each night he heavily dropped into bed, asleep before he hit the pillow. The little spare time he had he used to visit Oscar or Python, Slug and Toad—and rarely, Caron and Noel, who, being devils, had settled somewhere a little less obvious outside of the city between contracts. But Oscar had begun to nag him about a life outside of the OCT, and when he nagged right back, they’d fought—violently, wordlessly, but at the end Oscar had finally agreed to try dating, but only if Fugo did as well.
He let out a deep sigh. Despite having set him a little on fire during that argument, and getting one hell of a black eye in return, Fugo worried about his brother. He didn’t want Oscar to be like Dratton, married to the military. He knew he’d be a great dad and deserved a happy family like the one they'd once had so long ago. And so he decided that he’d put up with parallel dates until Oscar finally found someone compatible.
He’d been on several so far, and all of them had gone poorly. The first one had been rather funny, the young lady had been enamored with the idea of a military boyfriend and had almost fainted when he told her bluntly that he hated the government. The second one had been less funny, the woman had taken one look at his scars before turning around and leaving without a word. And the third one had gone very well, she’d been very cute and quite flirtatious and Fugo had almost agreed to go with her to her church the next day because of it. Thankfully, that date had been at Python’s coffee shop and his friend had been able to subtly signal to him that it was a trap by shaking his head violently and crossing his hands in an ‘x’ behind her head.
Fugo tried his hardest not to stare into the flame of the single candle on the table and ran his eyes around the room again. The tables were very widely spaced for privacy, and each held a single couple. Some, nervously glancing at and away from each other, seemed to be on a first date, like him, but others, like the couple at the nearest table who seemed on the verge of an argument, seemed like they’d been together for years.
He looked away from the couple angrily cutting into steak towards the door as it opened again. He didn’t know the appearance or name of the person he was going to meet—or gender, even, although he’d stated his preference was women, he wasn’t sure Dratton wouldn’t try to shake things up a bit with how badly he’d been striking out with them.
He sat up straight as he realized that the maitre’d was finally leading someone to the table. It was a beautiful young woman with long blue hair curtaining her face wearing a simple but stylish teal dress and strappy stiletto heels. He gulped as they drew closer. Perhaps it was a little mean, but he hadn’t expected the date to actually be attractive, and this woman was stunning . He took a deep breath as the waiter pulled out her chair.
Shit, here we go. Moment of truth, is she gonna see my scars and run off like that other one?
“Thank you,” the woman said in a low voice as the waiter pushed her chair in and handed them both menus before leaving. She was shyly averting her eyes from him, and he was surprised to realize that she was just as nervous as he was.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing her face. From this close, he realized she looked extremely familiar, but he couldn’t actually place why until she finally looked up at him with a smile that immediately dropped into an expression of abject horror—and it certainly wasn’t because of his scars.
“ Fugo Dressel? ” she hissed, and he nearly slammed his chair backwards in a double take.
“
Jillian fuckin' Littner?!
”