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“All men have a type, Sweetheart,” Rouge said like she bemoaned the fact, stabbing at her salad with a plastic fork.
“That’s a rather broad generalization,” Shadow said clinically, setting down the convenience store coffee beside him on the bench. The two decided to take their hour-long lunch break in the small patch of concrete Westopolis Parks and Recreation dubbed a ‘zen-sanctuary’. The city’s original idea for the areas was that employees working in the surrounding office buildings would have a place to sit and eat lunch outside while being surrounded by abstract rebar sculptures crafted by artists that weren’t even local. Somehow, it’s supposed to be more relaxing than sitting in the break room that smells because your coworker heated up fish in the microwave. Shadow once joked about the city not wanting to lay down sod and actually landscape the place. Rouge laughed.
“Human men that like blondes only date blondes,” Rouge said, “Same goes for redheads and brunettes.”
“And? Those are humans.”
Shadow’s friend sighed. They had gotten on to the topic of this conversation because an intelligence analyst in Rouge’s charge had been caught with a younger coworker in the public restroom. Sean Davis was a human that was close to retirement with a wife of forty years and two beautiful daughters in college. He was also notorious for cozying up to petite newbies on the regular. Shadow didn’t really understand - this guy already sucked because he willingly defies the promise he made to his wife - regardless of the number of years they’ve been together. And the type of woman he routinely picks out is closer to his daughters’ age than his own?
“Some avians only date mammals. Some mammals tend to go for invertebrates,” Rouge said tiredly, “We’re not any different. You have a type that you haven’t quite noticed yet. There’s almost never any special exceptions.”
“It just seems so superficial,” Shadow said.
“Not all people are superficial. Maybe it’s a personality trait that you find attractive. A skill. A way of life, even.”
Rouge took a big gulp of soda and continued on. It was overcast and stuffy outside and Shadow knew that Rouge had to fill out a report longer than her attention span when they returned to the good ol’ four-walls-and-no-windows.
“Take me, for instance. Have you ever seen me go out with a guy who has zero muscle mass?”
Shadow thought for a moment. It was only Tuesday. He shouldn’t have to think this hard about this sort of thing.
“I think you’re just looking for Knuckles in someone else,” he said.
“That’s an awfully sentimental way to look at it,” she said. Rouge took a long sip of her Diet Chaos Cola and the two silently people watched for the remainder of their lunch.
As fate would have it, Shadow visited a cheap bar just a few blocks away after getting off at 7 P.M. on that Friday. Shadow was finalizing the exact parameters of a two-month mission to Soleanna he was leaving for next week. And he got good overtime.
“From one of those girls sitting at the corner table,” the bartender said, sliding Shadow something amber and uncomplicated two drinks and an hour in. Shadow nodded, discreetly looking towards the direction the older human was gesturing.
Across the way was a young group of women of varying species and levels of inebriation. The only one looking his way was a pretty mink with a knowing smile and chestnut fur. She winked at him. He turned back towards the bartender.
“Thanks,” he said. The bartender smiled.
The next hour or so was uneventful. The gift that keeps on giving when it comes to being a field agent is the inability to not keep tabs on your surroundings. Down the bar, there was a raccoon trying to woo a sheep. Some human and mobian men were loudly enjoying the game on television. The mink’s group was slowly peeling off. Shadow thought that her whole party was gone until he felt a light tap on his left shoulder. It almost made him jump.
Shadow turned around to see the young mink. Bright eyed and bushy tailed. Literally.
“Hi,” she said, voice a little raspy.
“Hello,” Shadow said.
“I saw you across the way and I had to buy you a drink,” the mink admitted with no shame. Up closer, Shadow could not deny he found the mink attractive. She had on a shimmery gold dress that complimented her hazel eyes well. A pair of dangly star earrings hung from her ears. She had on a dainty pair of strappy burgundy kitten heels that Rouge would probably gush over. Her arms and legs looked well-toned. Perhaps she was an athlete.
“Thank you,” he managed to get out.
“You don’t seem like the type that would wanna walk over,” she said teasingly with a smile. There wasn't a hint of insecurity behind her eyes. It also seemed like she wasn’t remotely buzzed. Either she’s good at holding her liquor, or she didn’t need liquid courage
“You think I’m too insecure to walk up to a group of women at a bar?”
The mink took that as her cue to sit down beside him. She leaned in towards Shadow. Her eyes looked a little greener in lower light and Shadow formally decided that he was interested in her.
“You’re just the hard-to-get type. Dark, mysterious, handsome. RBF,” she said, “I’m Blythe.”
Blythe extended her hand out towards Shadow’s to shake. He took it and gave her a firm one.
“Terios,” he lied.
Blythe the Mink was from one of the dozens of small communities within the Station Square-Central City metropolitan area. Blythe danced as a kid, had a garage band in her teens, hated salad, and was a Cancer. She was a graduate student at a university in Central City. Blythe’s area of study was anthropology and she was currently working on a dig over in Mystic Ruins. Her plans post-graduation were to go for the doctorate and head wherever they were unearthing something. Shadow tells her that he has a couple of friends that treasure hunt as a hobby, to which Blythe was delighted to hear. They made refreshingly earnest conversation for the next hour or so. Blythe stubbornly tried to dig out any information she could about ‘Terios’. He told her the truth on the mundane things and remained cryptic when asked serious questions. Blythe could somehow tell that he was lying, but she didn’t push.
Shadow had also assessed Blythe correctly - she was an athlete. She had a good track and field scholarship at the institution she received her undergraduate at. Pole vaulting virtually covered all of her tuition.
“I don’t miss it,” she admitted.
“What do you do now?”
“A little of everything,” Blythe said, “My friends and I run a lot.”
Shadow’s interest was piqued.
“The ones that you were with tonight?”
“No, completely different crowd. It’s more of a casual thing,” she said, “No Blue Blurs in our little club, that’s for sure.”
Shadow let out a small chuckle. He forgets that he’s at risk for hearing people make reference to Him colloquially.
More like the civilian concept of Him - swift, true, just, good, intangible.
They didn’t know the real version. Transient. Childish. Impatient. Noncommittal.
Maybe the general opinion on Him was right about the intangible thing.
“So, what’s a guy like you doing all alone in a place like this?” Blythe said while leaning in closer. She was going in for the kill.
“After-work drink,” Shadow said coyly, like he totally wasn’t going to take the bait.
“It’s 9 P.M.”
“I work late.”
“Working for the man?” Blythe asked.
“Working for the man,” he agreed.
“Who’s the man?”
The dark hedgehog leaned into the mink’s ear. Blythe’s breath hitched before he had even said anything.
“If I told you, it would ruin the fun,” Shadow whispered.
The early next morning, after leaving Blythe a short and sweet note consisting of two words, he snuck out of her sketchy apartment and made the walk of shame back home. Shadow bought an apple fritter and coffee from their convenience store and a guy who he had never seen before checked him out at the register. He made a beeline for the subway stairs and boarded his line.
And on the subway, Shadow couldn’t decide if Blythe was just his type or if he was looking for someone else in her.