This was the stupidest things Emily had done in a long time. More stupid than following an alien-mutant into the sewers. More stupid that exorcising a ghost or trying to stop a man with a gun. How in the world had Janette convinced her to go on a blind date?

Several people would argue that the idea of a truly “blind date” was gone. It was so simple to type in someone’s name in google or a social website and find out what they look liked, where they lived, their favorite band, or their shoe size. But Emily didn’t like to use the complicated contraption called the interwebs. So this truly was a blind date. She didn’t even know how Janette knew this guy. All she knew was that his name was David and he was from across the pond.

Emily’s sleeves shirt was the color mocha. Cream colored lace lay on her collarbone and went up to her chin. She wore a pair of chocolate colored slacks and nude heels about two inches long. Her jewelry was chocolate gold and diamonds. Earrings dangled from her lobes, large bracelets circled her wrists, and a long necklace looped thrice reached to her bellybutton. Was it a little expensive? Yes. But this was a date and she was dressed to impress.

The restaurant was four stars and sat on the first floor of a historic hotel. Why did she agree to meet here? Emily didn’t eat. Was she just going to sit there while her date stuffed his face? Jeanette knew she was a mutant, so maybe she had revealed it to the man. She would just have to explain her mutation.

But who would want to go on a date with someone who was dead?

This was the stupidest thing Emily had ever done.

Sometimes the only way of getting over your troubles with one girl was to move on and see another. David wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Seyta, even on a good day, and with the way he had been avoiding her ever since that first of November a few years back he was even more unsure. Oh she would have rage at him, that he knew, but she had sent him the atlas he had wanted for Christmas. Going back and forth over how much she would kill him if they ran into each other was wearing him down. He needed to get his mind off this situation. And he was growing tired of having to eat his own cooking.

So he let himself be set up for a blind date. It wasn't as if he was looking for a one night stand or anything like that. He just needed to get out of his apartment and have some fun. As of late the only thing he had done outside the flat was work. Getting bladdered surrounded by the furniture in his flat felt like an ultimate example of patheticness. You do that in your home, you're an alcoholic. Do it in a bar or club and you're a normal bloke.

Not that he was going to be getting bladdered here. David liked classy places like this, and he dressed in a nice suit with a tie. His face was clean shaven, his hair not sticking at angles for a change. Sure at times the Brit could look a little on the gruff side, but he cleaned up nicely. When he had been told of where they would be meeting up David was quite pleased.

There was a young lady sitting by herself in the resturant, and when David told the server why he was there, it was the same young lady that he was directed to. No doubt about it, she was the one that he had been set up with. Although he tended to like blondes more than brunettes, it could be time for a change. Giving her his most charming smile David grabbed onto the back of his chair. Best way to avoid having to shake hands was to have your own occupied. "Right then, you must be Emily?"

Emily stood up when the man approached her table. She reached out her hand in greeting, bringing it up in such a way the he could either shake it or give it a kiss. Her handshake would be firm, yet feminine. She would take the kiss coyly.

Since she was five, her mother had prepared her to find a husband. In her time, an octoroon’s best chances for a future were to become the mistress of a wealthy plantation owner. She was trained to be everything a southern gentleman would want in a paramour. But she had hid her charm when her uncle started to find her attractive. Hopefully, she wasn’t too out of practice.

“Yes. You must be David. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She sat herself back down and placed her maroon napkin on her lap. Emily wondered if she should reveal that she was a mutant right away. She would hate to actually hit it off with this man and then find out he was a mutant-hater.

“Isn’t this a lovely restaurant? I’ve never been here before. Janette said we had to try the crab soufflé appetizer.” She opened her menu and began to search through the entrees.

David cursed his luck. His date for the evening did not get the drift that he was against hand touching and held hers out expectantly. He had had years of exposure to his mutation now, and knew what exactly activated it. Handshakes were out of the question, unless he was aiming to dislocate her arm. So when she offered him her hand he gave it a polite kiss, using the side of his hand, cupped only so slightly, to support hers. Despite what Seyta might currently think of him, David could be charming and well mannered. This was the sort of behavior that had filled his wallets and gotten him a tidy bank account.

When Emily took her seat David was polite enough to slide it in for her. That wasn't part of his conman repitoire. That was the table manners that his mum had drilled into his skull. It wasn't until Emily was properly situated that he took his own seat and unfolded his napkin. Unlike his date for the evening he had been here before. Before he had gotten his flat thanks to the Sanctuary he had talked his way into hotels just like this to have a meal, finding ways to avoid having to pay for the food until he had more than just a British ten pound note in his wallet. This particular hotel had been a pace where he had done some "business" in the past, but had not swindled a meal out of.

"I've 'eard that it's to die for," David admitted, wondering what he must have done to get this Janette girl so angry at him. Seemed like these days he couldn't tell where he stood in any relationship with a lady. He didn't even know how he knew Janette anymore. Was she that girl at the bar he had spent his first night in the states with? No, that was someone else, someone with a more Irish name if he was right. "I'll have to pass on it though. Seafood doesn't do well with me."

Well that was an awkward greeting. But Emily showed no hint of it in her expression. Come to think of it, he had held on to his chair pretty tightly. Maybe he had an issue with touching. That would be all right with Emily. People that got to close could sometimes smell something off about her. Or they would make a remark on how cold her hand was. This always led to awkward conversations.

He was a gentleman for sliding in her seat. That earned him some points. She stared at her menu for a second. The undead girl could order something and just push it around her plate. Maybe she could make an excuse about not being hungry. But then the gentleman would probably insist on paying for the meal and it would be such a waste of money if she ordered something.

A waiter came by the table and began to list off the specials. Emily didn’t hear a word he said. It was really beginning to bother her. Should she order food or not? Should she tell him she was a mutant or keep that a secret? She was brought out of her thoughts when he asked what she would like to drink.

“Um. Actually, I’m not that hungry.” Would it be rude if she asked to do something else? She turned her attention to her date. “If you want to stay, I’ll just get a water.”

When his date,Emily, said she wasn't really hungry David lifted an eyebrow. He was a big supporter of eating, if for no other reason than his stomach had been a little too empty too many times in his childhood. The only fond memories he had of Christmas time all had to do with food, certainly not anything that was tucked under the tree for him. While no chief or expert of fine cuisine David did enjoy food. His palate was defined enough to enjoy well crafted meals. A kind, yet critical eye examined Emily's body. He'd had dates before with girls who ordered small meals that they poked and prodded but never really consumed. Ladies who ate like that rarely got a second date with him.

"Please tell me that you're not the kind who starves themself to look good to their date," David said, holding two fingers up to the waiter to let them know that he needed a moment. Emily might not be wanting anything to eat, but that didn't mean he wasn't hungry either. If Emily really did not want anything to eat he would respect her desires and take her someplace else. After all, they were young and in the city that never sleeps. There was always something that a couple of mature adults could do for fun. Unfortunately if they didn't eat here he'd be having yet another homecooked meal in his flat. How funny that when he first arrived he had gotten sick of eating out and wanted a meal that he made that did not require the use of a microwave. Now that he had spent a long period of time doing exactly that he was craving a meal that he didn't have to prepare.

"I could go for a bite to eat, but if you druther do something else tonight I'm up for anything," David said, giving Emily his warmest smile, the one that he used to win over the ladies. He had over the years perfected his act, the subtle gestures and facial cues to get him what he wanted. Usually what he was seeking was trust from the other person. It didn't make a lick of difference how well filled his mark's pockets were if he could not get them to trust him. "Me da always said to listen to a lady, and do as she would like. Of course when she's as lovely as you that's not too hard to follow."

Emily smiled coyly and averted her eyes. Oh this guy was good. It almost made her forget about the nagging feeling of not knowing if she should reveal her mutation.

The prices at this restaurant were high. David probably had a light snack for lunch to keep room for the gourmet meal he would be enjoying this evening. He probably was hungry. It would be awfully rude if Emily didn’t allow him to eat. Plus, getting a reservation for this place was probably difficult. Why waste it?

“I actually don’t eat.” She paused, wondering how to word this. “I have a mutation and it keeps me from eating.” There. She said it. If he wanted, he could get up and leave. Sure, he was a gentleman and probably wouldn’t, but Emily believed she could tell if he had a disgust for mutants. If he showed discomfort, she would excuse herself, making up some excuse for her sudden departure.

“But, I would love to sit here and still enjoy this lovely restaurant. I can order something small so the waiter doesn’t think it odd I have no food.”

"You don't eat because it prevents you from doing so or because you don't need to?" David asked, seeking clarification. He couldn't see anything about his date that would suggest a mutation that prevented eating. Then again looking at himself you would never guess that David was capable of punching through a wall. The muscle mass on him was minimal, no matter how much he tried to add to it. What confused David on how his dated didn't want food but had no issue with water. Both entered the system the same way and both had to leave it. If she could drink shouldn't she be capable of eating as well?

The admission of her mutation should have prompted him to discuss his own. It was known at the Sanctuary that he had one, and after hearing him called "Sledgehammer" it wasn't that hard to figure out what it was. However if someone were to approach him and ask if he was a mutant David denied it effortlessly. He brushed off his lack of physical contact with people as being a bit of a germophobe. It was an easy enough explanation for why he didn't shake hands and most people accepted it. Keeping the truth hidden though was the root of his problems with Seyta. Actually it caused problems with any of his relationships. It certainly had ended things with Anna.

"Because if you are looking for something small to keep things a little on the hush side we could order a dessert. The chocolate mousse is rather good I hear, but I'm more of the cream puff type meself," David offered as a solution. Alright, so he really would rather have a nice steak with some small potatoes and a fresh salad, but he was taught at least a little bit of proper manners. If he was to order an entire meal for himself and she only got a tiny thing to pick at he'd be disapointed in himself. Not only that but it would have reminded him too much of the dream where he was fighting in the pit to feed himself while the kid starved on the street.

Emily blinked. The gentleman didn’t even seem to bat an eye. Like she had told him she was a vegetarian. That was refreshing and made Emily smile. “I don’t need to.” She looked at her glass of water that she hadn’t touched. “And if I do, it’s a messy business.” If, for some strange reason, she did eat, the food or drink would just sit in her stomach until it rotted and smelled. Emily couldn’t even vomit. But she wasn’t going to share all this with a man she was on a first date with. This was embarrassing.

“I want you to eat your fill. It won’t bother me at all.” She brushed some hair behind her right ear and looked up at her date. “I’m sure you’re hungry. If you want, I could order something and you could take it home with you for later.

She reached out to hold the top of his hand. “I know you are a gentleman, so you probably find it rude to eat in front of someone who isn’t. But please, eat. I haven’t had to eat in centuries. I’m use to people eating in front of me. In fact, I want to watch you eat.” She looked down at her water again.

“I’m sorry if that sounds weird. I know it does. But please, order what you want. And I’ll sit here and talk to you.” She looked at the man with pleading eyes. Even her bottom lip quivered a bit.

The waiter once again stepped up to the table. “Are you now ready to order? Or will you still need more time?” Emily looked up and smiled at the waiter. “Yes, we’re ready. He is ordering for the both of us.” Emily wasn’t going to let him sit there and think too long. He was going to order something and he was going to eat it.

David had to share a laugh with Emily. He couldn't understand what her mutation involved, because there had not been very many details involved. How she described it though had set up a perfect opening for a witty remark. The charm was being turned back on for the first time in a while for the Brit. Maybe he was foolish for trying to seek out a relationship with Seyta. She was always angry at him for one reason or another. He would take full blame for his actions on that Halloween night and following morning, but the other times when she was angry at him he was without a clue as to what he had done wrong. "For even a normal person it's a messy business. Ask any parent."

She was right though about him being hungry though. Hunger was an old familiar friend for David and he had learned to ignore it very well. In a restaurant people could not hear your stomach grumble in emptiness. David had selected this restaurant because he had discovered that it was good on his stomach when he had been on a diet of mostly fast food. Everything he had had here in the past before was delicious. Having Emily order something that he would be able to take home later was a tempting idea, not because he lacked food, but because he really enjoyed eating here. Manners had kept him from doing so.

He also had to pause when Emily put her hand on top of his. He had his hand flat on the table so there was no risk of his mutation kicking in, but his entire arm tensed up in the effort to make sure that there was no movement whatsoever. Physical contact making him freeze up got in the way of relationships, not because he couldn't stand being touched, but because he was afraid of what he might do. Intimacy was a difficult thing for him, he did not hug, he did not hold hands. It did lead to a little bit of loneliness.

David would have argued the matter a little more about if he should or should not get something to eat, but Emily had stumbled upon one of his weaknesses. David was an excellent conman, people were easy to manipulate for him. Unfortunately he could easily be swayed by a women in distress. His look softened and his resolve weakened at the sight of Emily's quivering lip. It was one thing that he was aware of, one of his things that he wish he could change about of himself, but it did not happen. He was unable to say anything against him eating, especially once she told the waiter that he was going to be ordering.

"Emily would like the Pasta Roscutto, and I'll 'ave the New York strip, but we'll start with a small house salad to split," David said, ordering something that she could move around the plate easily enough to make it look like she was actually eating. With the waiter taking their order and going away David could focus on the date again. "I'll make a deal with you. We'll take your order to go and the first homelss person we see on the street will have a good meal today."

Emily gave a sly smirk. For some reason she felt like they were doing something wrong. Not bad, just a little naughty. Like they were sharing a secret that shouldn’t be told. “Deal.” And with that all of Emily's anxieties disappeared. She had been freaking out over nothing. Thank goodness that Janette set her up with someone decent.

The dead girl put the glass to her lips but didn’t drink. The ice clicked on her teeth. “You’re more handsome than Janette described you.” That wasn’t accurate. Janette had been drooling over David for months. But from what she said, she wasn’t his type. Janette could come off as a little clingy.

“So how do you know Janette? She and I use to work at a mortuary together. I moved back to Nawlins and she left a year later to try her hand at acting. I heard she was in a few commercials, but none that I have ever seen. We got back in touch after I moved back.”

Soon the waiter came back with a salad and an extra plate. “Would you like some fresh ground pepper on your salad?” Emily nodded and motioned the man to stop after a few seconds. The waiter left with a nod.

“So where are you from? Originally? I was born in Nawlins two centuries ago. It was a different place back then, but I love how the city has kept most of its Southern charm.”

Suggesting that they give her meal to the first homeless person they saw had multiple benefits. First of all there were plenty of his informants that worked around this area. A nice little treat like a delicious meal helped to cement their loyalty to the Brit. If he did not find one of his informants than he would just be building up his army of the homeless. Work related things aside there was the added benefit of looking good to Emily. It made him seem compassionate, the type of man who wanted to do good for those who were less fortunate. The sly smirk that she gave him told David that he had done well. The compliment on his looks was just a tidy little bonus.

Cockiness never did well with ladies, but confidence did go a good way. David gave her an equally sly smirk, one that showed he was a bit of a troublemaker. His marks always fell for the mischief side of him, at least his marks in romance. After all, David's most successful attempts at wooing Seyta was when she caught him looting. The baby face made people trust him. It was his troublemaker bits that showed he was not too angelic to have some fun. "I've been told I clean up nicely. You on the other 'and, you look effortless."

"Oh I know here through a friend of a friend," David said, cvering up that he really couldn't remember how he had met the lady who had arranged this whole date. Running a successful con and getting lucky in love weren't all that different. The idea was to deflect attention away from yourself, make the target believe that you really were interested in only them. Sure, you had to let out little drips and dribbles of information about yourself, not always true, to get them to really want to trust you, but on the whole it is about making the target feel good. David chose to ignore the bit where Emily mentioned being born two centuries ago. Didn't make a difference who the lady was, you do not bring up age ever.

"Can't tell from me accent?" David asked, slightly amused. He had discovered that a British accent was very popular with this Yankee women. True most of them couldn't get what sort of accent it was beyond the vague "British" one. Some thought he was from London, some thought that it was a Cockney one. "I'm from West Yorkshire, England. Haven't been here long enough to have the British washed out of me mouth yet."

This man was definitely a charmer. Emily wondered how many other women this man had used that smile and words on. The girl’s experience with courting was tinted, so she couldn’t help but have negative thoughts when a man showed interest in her. The first man who wanted her affection was her uncle, and when she refused he had her killed. So Emily was stand-offish when flirted with. But she didn’t want to be. She knew all men weren’t dogs, so she shouldn’t act like they were.

He knew Janette from a friend of a friend, huh. That wasn’t very informative. Maybe the man didn’t want to talk about the other woman. Which made sense, this was a date between her and him. No reason to involve another woman. Or maybe it was because Emily knew how difficult Janette could be and her date didn’t want to give his opinion on the loud and needy woman.

The woman listened to where the man was from. He would probably never lose the accent. It had been centuries and Emily still held on to her own Southern dialect. “Don’t try to get rid of it. It’s charming.” Emily never considered herself attractive. She cared for her appearance because it was what a lady was meant to do. She was charming because she was meant to be. Maybe this man could get past her barriers and see a genuine smile. But not on the first date.

“So what brought you to The Big Apple? And are you enjoying your stay?” A woman came by and filled up the man’s water. Emily’s hadn’t changed in amount, even though she kept on putting it to her lips. “I came for a friend and stayed for the people. They are very interesting.” If the man seemed interested in the conversation, Emily would go on. Otherwise she would change the subject.

"Thank you, but I'll admit that the British accent doesn't help much with blokes They tend to think that I'm the stereotypical snobbish Brit that says thinks like 'toodlepip'" David admitted. He would not deny that he had a good dose of self esteem, but he was not the stick up the rear, never say a curse word or be spotted having a cup of tea that came with the general image of a British man that prevailed. Forget about the tea, David needed coffee to survive, and fish and chips would kill him. He was British yes but not a caricature.

"My business was growing and I came here to do some expanding." It was the stock explanation for why David was no longer in England. The truth was that he had become too much of a presence on the local police force in his hometown. New York City was kind to him, filled with so many more people who believed him when he said that he could sell them their dreams. Giving the true answer to anyone who asked, even those at the Sanctuary, was a foolish action. By now the lie was said so many times that it was effortless, coming out of him as smoothly as the truth. For years David had gotten the practise of using falsehoods as honesty. Even over looking the criminal aspect of his life David had been untruthful. He had tried to convince everyone that his family was not as poor as they were.

"You came here for a friend?" David asked. Getting the topic back off of him and back on Emily. To help her with her illusion of being normal he carefully switched their glasses, his partially empty again now that he had taken another drink, hers full. If it did not get drunk the ice in it would have melted eventually. Just because she admitted to a mutation did not mean that his date wanted it to be showing. In that regard he could relate to her. His own mutation was hardly subtle when in use, but he kept it hidden from as many as he possibly could.

Emily’s experience with the British was fairly positive. She had spent a few years overseas helping during the two world wars. The women there were hard-working and strong. So many of them lost their men in those wars. They took up the slack. Emily didn’t see them as snobbish at all.

David seemed to be avoiding answering questions in detail. Was he trying to seem all mysterious or something? Well, let him. It was kind of him to switch glasses. He was being thoughtful.

A man came by and brought two salads. He asked if they wanted any cheese or fresh pepper and Emily declined. The salad had all types of vegetables, nuts, and other delicious ingredients. It looked very tantalizing. She mixed the dressing with the rest of the salad while talking.

“An old friend of mine was ill and wanted to see me before she passed away. She was getting special treatment at a hospital in this city. They made her passing so much easier. I stayed in the city for a while because I want-“ A woman came by asking if they needed anything. Emily said they were fine. She watched her date for a second to see if he was enjoying the salad. It looked like he was. She was very glad he continued to eat even if Emily couldn’t.

“I wanted to stay in the city because of the large mutant population. Nawlins has a few, but it is nothing like the amount I have met since I’ve been here. I think it is because it is such a big place with so many different cultures. People are more understanding here, so they flock to this city. Sure, I’ve met a few mutant haters. One even cut off my head once. Another hit me in the head so hard with a bat my neck turned 180 degrees.” Well this conversation got morbid fast. “But overall, I believe the people of this city are good and wouldn’t hurt anyone just because they were different.”