God he couldn’t have felt more like some gawky teenager. It was so bad that he wanted to pants himself for sounding like a dork. He was only glad that Nessa hadn’t had been here to hear all this or she would have absolutely never allowed him to live it down. He could already see the smug look on her face and the cruel twist of her lips as she prepared to unleash the first volley of jabs and sarcastic quips at him. It was so bad that Booker almost felt a little anxiety swell in his heart, or at least it would have gotten to that point if he didn’t know exactly how much his sister loved him. Still, it was best that she wasn’t here to see this side of him. He would only deal with so much loving cruelty at once.

Juliette, though, wasn’t making him feel bad about any of it. Given the odd little restaurant choice, their strange meeting, the fact that she had just ended a relationship, and now these two were trying things out on a first date, there should have been a lot of give her pause. But, she was rolling through it all like a champ, still with her wit and her beautiful smile intact. Booker was thankful for all of it.

A moment after his childish compliment was uttered, Booker turned back to see that she was giving him the most genuine smile. The two watched each other for the briefest of moments, shyly looking away before she finally responded.

>> "Thanks, Booker. You look nice, too. The bowtie is a good touch. Do you have a lot of them?"

He felt elated at the comment that he “looked nice”. Just coming off of work, he knew that he wasn’t at his prime. He was certain his hair was a little disheveled and he hadn’t really had a chance to real attempt to groom the five-o’clock shadow that clung to his jawline. But he did manage to at least brush his teeth before heading out, thanks to the emergency toothpaste and brush that he kept in his desk (don’t ask). So there was at least that tiny victory in his favor.

”Thanks,” he responded to her compliment. But, of course, she had to bring up the bowtie. Booker chuckled, his hand lifted up subconsciously to touch it. He gave it a little poke so that it sat right straight around his neck. ”Haha, yeah. I have a drawer full.” he said. They moved up in line a tick as and then he started to explain. ”In college I was trying to find myself. Never cared for regular ties until on of my friends suggested trying a bowtie and…it just felt right.” He puffed up proudly. ”Got some guff for it, but…I dunno…I like it.”

He breathed a small sigh as they moved up again. Only one more person to be seated between themselves and the wondrous food this place possessed. He gave off a deep breath, awkwardly looking about the room, finding it hard to really look at Juliette without grinning or smiling or feeling like a down-right fool. At one of these instances, the man just broke down, shaking his head as he eyed her. Was she as nervous as he was? He inquired, of course, curious as to her answer.

>> "Far from it… I think it's been a very long time since I've felt this nervous."

Relief washed over his shoulders like the coursing waters from a fall. ”Thank god,” he chuckled. ”I don’t feel so bad, haha.”

The breath he released seemed to take with it most of his earlier concerns. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one struggling a little through this. Deep down, he didn’t know why they were struggling with anything. Both were free and available to date now, they clearly had some spark of chemistry between them, and damn her smile was just as radiant as a summer day. So then what was the problem? It was a mystery to the librarian but thankfully he didn’t get to dwell on any thoughts for too long as it was their turn with the hostess.

>> ”For two?”

>> "Please,"

Booker nodded and followed the hostess as they gathered some menus and trekked the now only empty table that was situated near a window. It was small with black, iron legs and a slab of wood for the surface. The chairs on either side of it were of similar material but clearly different designs. Upon the top sat a small, red glass where a candle flickered on the inside. It was small, intimate, and seemingly precisely built for the two of them.

As the host set the menus down, Booker immediately moved around and pulled out a chair for Juliette to sit first (his manners were so deeply programmed by this point that it was like second nature). Once she was seated, he himself pulled his book bag from across his chest and set it next to him as he claimed his own seat across from the lovely nurse. A cheesy grin and he turned back to the host who rattled off the specials for the day: Chicken Tuscan and Angel Hair Pasta with Shrimp. With the news that a waitress will be by to claim drink orders, the host headed off.

”Thank you,” Booker said with a tiny wave. Pulling up his single page menu, the man briefly glanced at it. ’All looks good today.” But as he tried to focus on the menu, inevitably he found his eyes wandering back to the nurse across from him. When she would catch his look, he smile. ”Um…any ideas on what you’d like? Really it’s all good. You don’t have to listen to my suggestions.”

The thing about compliments was that as soon as someone commented on something on a person, they seemed to immediately need to touch it. Booker was the same way. As soon as Juliette mentioned his bowtie, his hands shot up to adjust the tie, making sure that it was in no way off-kilter. "It looks good on you," she commented, feeling the corners of her eyes crinkle as she watched him puff up proudly.

Neither of them had any need to feel bad for being nervous, which was made clearer by the fact that they felt the same way. It had been a long time since she'd been on a first date; since she'd felt the overwhelming need to not do anything completely stupid. It was positively nerve-wracking.

While they were following the hostess to the table in the back, Juliette began to fret. What if it was all a mistake? What if she'd just pulled him from his life to do something crazy and it didn't work out? What if they really didn't have anything in common?

No, that wasn't the case. They had plenty in common. They had a spark, too; a strong connection, and that was what they needed to make something out of... whatever they had just started. She calmed her breathing and went back to worrying whether or not her hair was falling in her face.

"Thank you," she smiled at Booker as he pulled a chair out for her. She took it gratefully and set her bag over the edge of the chair, out of sight and out of mind. She nodded a thank you to the host as he set some menus down in front of the two of them, listed the specials, and then left them to their own devices. As she looked around the table, she couldn't help but note how they managed to snag the perfect spot. It was intimate, cozy, and just generally had the perfect aura.

Quickly, she skimmed the menu, looking up every once and a while to catch Booker's eye. One time, it prompted him to start talking.

>>”Um…any ideas on what you’d like? Really it’s all good. You don’t have to listen to my suggestions.”

"Hmm," Juliette furrowed her brow a little bit as she skimmed the menu one last time. "Honestly, the lasagne sounds really good. What about you? Do you have a top pick yet?"

>> "It looks good on you,"

Booker smiled. The compliment still hung like a heavy haze on his head. He truly did appreciate her compliment, especially since not everyone he dated could appreciate the fine usage of bowties in regular attire. Most labeled Booker as little more than a wannabe hipster, someone who was trying too hard to be different. Truth was that Booker didn’t feel like he was trying hard at all. He was just being him and he knew what he liked and didn’t like. He liked bowties and that was all that mattered to him. Though, it definitely was a plus that Juliette happened to like he look on him too.

Shyly the man blushed, fidgeted with his bowtie a little again and just smirked at her. ”Thank you.”

As they were shown to their seats in the intimate location of the restaurant, Booker was quick to pull out her chair. Booker didn’t see this happen much anymore but he did pride himself in being a bit of a gentleman. He opened the door the people, he pulled out their chairs, he said “excuse me” and “thank you” and he was just a paragon of well-mannered behavior. Of course some people knew him would say that such things were unnecessary in this day and age, it was too ingrained in him to stop.

She offered her thanks, which wasn’t needed, and Booker just gave her a charming smile and a dip of his head in response. Claiming his own seat, he looked up to the hostess who quickly rattled off the specials before slipping away to return to her duties, thus leaving the two individuals to their own devices.

Silence could be a terrible thing, especially when two people are on a first date. It allows the thoughts to wander, to bring up insecurities as to why there was so much quiet in the first place. Booker himself began to fear that maybe this was a mistake. Were they just supposed to be friends after all? As their kiss just a fluke, something brought upon by the loneliness and the situation that they found themselves in? Given time, Booker could have come up with a million reasons as to why they felt something that wasn’t there. But, sitting across from the woman, he knew that all of them were false.

There was something there. He didn’t know what it was but they did have some stuff in common and that spark couldn’t have been more genuine to him. Booker had claimed he felt a spark before, that surge of chemistry, but they didn't feel like this did. This was chemistry, kismet, a spark, and Booker wanted to explore it further.

He grinned at Juliette, trying to figure something to say. He knew that conversation would eventually come to them. They did in the hospital, after all, but they just needed to get past this first awkward little hurdle. So, Booker tried a different tactic. He inquired as to whether anything on the menu looked good to her. That was a nice and simple place to start, wasn’t it?

>> "Hmm…Honestly, the lasagne sounds really good. What about you? Do you have a top pick yet?"

He watched her for a second, tilting his head as she stared contemplative upon the menu of delectable Italian meals. It seemed that she would be going for the lasagna, who wouldn’t? The restaurant was known for a lot of things but there was this allure about their pasta and meat-sauced filled casserole that had always been a big crowd pleaser. Additionally, it was lasagna, really, if you were to go to a mysterious Italian restaurant, that would probably be your safest beat. It really, really is hard to screw up lasagna.

”Great choice. They hand make all their pasta so it really is quite delicious.” He twisted his lips contemplatively, returning his eyes to the menu when Juliette had asked what he was possibly going to order. Really, he was in the mood for their pizza as it was the item that kept drawing his eye. ”I’m probably going to get their Mozzarella and Basil pizza,” he said with a confirming nod and grinned. ”I MIGHT be coerced into sharing a slice if you like?”

He sighed, happy with his choice and gently set his menu to the side. He was starting to relax and could already feel himself being…himself around her. Lifting his strong arms and stretching a little bit to work out the kinks of his workday, Booker folded his hands upon his lap, scooted his chair a smidge closer, and caught her eye. He looked at her face carefully, regarding her, as it became easier for questions to ask bubbled to the surface of his mind.

”So, Juliette,” he said gently. ”I know you a few things about you…” he started to count them off on his fingers as he recalled. ”I know you like jogging…you have a fairly new feline in your life…you read the classics…you are a nurse, and, by the way, a totally biased dance judge,” He teased. ”…and you like the color green. What else can you tell his humble librarian about yourself?” He then stopped, chuckled and looked a bit sympathic towards her. ”Not to put you on the spot or anything, heh.”

In school, hurdles had been Juliette's least favourite competition in track. She much preferred long distance events, where the only thing standing between her and the finish line was time. Even as she grew up, she preferred not to have to deal with hurdles. Unfortunately, they were a fact of life that would follow her everywhere, no matter how much she tried to avoid them.

They were staring at a hurdle in that moment. Things hadn't been the slightest bit forced when they'd first met, when they were volleying sarcastic comments and avoiding eye contact for too long. Unfortunately, there was a weird bit of tension that had settled over the pair; the hurdle. It was just one, though - just one hurdle for them to get over before it was open road.

Lasagne had been a good place to start, she figured. They were at an Italian restaurant, and lasagne was an Italian staple, so there really shouldn't have been any way to get it wrong. Plus, it was a pretty universally loved dish, so she wasn't going to be trying something completely crazy in an already strange (although exciting) situation.

>>”Great choice. They hand make all their pasta so it really is quite delicious.”

"Mm," she nodded, more pleased with her decision with that information. Homemade pasta made everything so much better.

>>”I’m probably going to get their Mozzarella and Basil pizza ... I MIGHT be coerced into sharing a slice if you like?”

She met his eyes once again and grinned, cocking her head to one side. Pizza was probably the only other Italian staple that was better known than lasagne, although it was hard to get real Italian pizza anywhere but an authentic restaurant. Other places put things like pineapple on their pizza. Another prime example of heathens roaming the face of the earth.

"Share? With me? I feel like I've just been given a great honour," she teased, placing a hand gingerly in the middle of her chest as she feigned surprise. "I might have to share the lasagne, then. The servings are usually really big."

She mirrored his actions ever so slightly as she set the menu down next to her, watching as he took a more comfortable position at the table. Things were getting easier by the second, and Booker clearly felt comfortable enough to make himself a bit more at home, which was a good sign.

>>”So, Juliette, I know you a few things about you… I know you like jogging…you have a fairly new feline in your life…you read the classics…you are a nurse, and, by the way, a totally biased dance judge …and you like the color green. What else can you tell his humble librarian about yourself? Not to put you on the spot or anything, heh.”

"Good memory," she noted, dipping her head forward a little and then taking a sip of water. That was far more than she had expected him to remember, not matter how much they had clicked the first time that they'd met. "Alright, well... let's see..."

As much as he'd said he wasn't trying to put her on the spot, he had definitely put her on the spot. She'd given him most of the basic details when they'd first met, so anything after that was getting into stuff that didn't all need to be talked about on a first date. She still didn't even know how he felt about mutants. That needed to be discussed soon.

"Hmm, well, I'm a nurse, obviously, and I teach health classes at a private school as well. I'm probably the worst cook you'll ever meet, I love Led Zeppelin, and I really like being outside. Now you know all the basics," she said with a slightly nervous smile. She needed to get a feel for something before she told him any more than that. "Alright, now you."

There were two questions that she hoped that he would answer. The first being how he felt about mutants, and the second... was a very recent addition to the vetting process on dates: how did he feel about drinking?

Before Booker could answer completely, the waitress had arrived to take their order.

That was the fear, that all this would have been too hyped up in his head to see if there was really anything going on between himself and Juliette. They met only a couple times, the second ending with a seriously passionate kiss (while she was already dating something else), that it felt like maybe the bar had been raised too high. What if they had been wrong? What if either one saw values in the other that truly weren’t there. Booker didn’t even want to think of that possibility, but he knew that it was there. This all could have been just their imaginations projecting what they wanted or saw in the other.

But as the moments passed, as they grew just a little more comfortable, it was apparent that they didn’t need to worry. Sure there was still a healthy amount of fear in the back of Booker’s mind (that wouldn’t go away easily considering his track record) but the librarian could also feel a peacefulness started to lower down upon them. He didn’t need to worry and plot for what might happen, but needed to focus on what was happening right now.

The smiles came and the sass had returned to their lips. He had teased with the nurse that he would be ordering the pizza and he could be convinced the share a slice with her. The impish grin upon his lips prompted a similar response form the nurse as a look of faux-surprise flashed across her features.

>> "Share? With me? I feel like I've just been given a great honour… I might have to share the lasagne, then. The servings are usually really big."

He grinned wide and gave her an agreeing nod. ”You should feel extremely privileged,” he chuckled. ”I don’t share my food with just anyone.”

Their meals decided, Booker took a moment to collect himself. The whole purpose of this was for them get to know one another so that is what the librarian set out to do; he was an information professional, after all. He rattled off what he knew about her already, his eidetic memory serving him well to recall both times they last met and the information she had given about herself.

From the look on her face, she seemed somewhat impressed with what he could recall…

>> "Good memory,"

He beamed proudly and gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder. ”You could say that…”

A few moments passed where she collected her thoughts, deciding what she wanted to reveal to him right off the bat. While he did say he didn’t mean to put her on the spot, she looked as if she were immediately by a spotlight that he had cast upon her. He didn’t mean to make anything awkward, especially since talking about yourself was always pretty awkward, but he really just wanted to know; and short of hacking into her public records (which isn’t a good move to make in ANY scenario), the direct question was probably best.

>> "Alright, well... let's see...Hmm, well, I'm a nurse, obviously, and I teach health classes at a private school as well. I'm probably the worst cook you'll ever meet, I love Led Zeppelin, and I really like being outside. Now you know all the basics,"

Booker nodded, committing the woman’s answers to memory, smiling when she admitted that she would be the worst cook ever and praising Led Zeppelin. Not only was she a nurse but she was also teaching at a private school? She really kept herself jumping, didn’t she? Again he began to suspect that maybe he was little more than a floating potato before her eyes but he didn’t dwell on the idea of long. Instead he mere continued to just smile and watch the interest sparkle in her eyes and sweet words fall from her perfect lips.

He sighed a bit contentedly. ”It’s lovely to meet you…”

>> "Alright, now you."

It was his turn. Booker straightened up in his seat, looked down at the table where his hands now were, and casually tapped his fingers to some unheard rhythmic beat in his head. What could he tell her about himself? There was a lot but, really, he didn’t want to drown her with too much information. Instead he simply decided he would stick with the basics – until their waiter showed.

“And are we ready?” the woman asked sweetly.

”OH! Um, Sure,” he said as he waved to Juliette. ”Please, ladies first.”

He smiled, waiting for Juliette to place her order. As she did, Booker continued to gather his own thoughts pensively. What were the main things he wanted to say about himself? Booker started to compile and list them until the waitress had finished jotting down Juliette’s order and turned her eyes onto him. Booker grinned.

”Mozzarella and Basil personal pizza, please,” he said brightly. ”OH! And an Italian soda, peach please.” He turned to Juliette. ”They’re Italian sodas are pretty awesome.”

Once the waitress had finished taking down his own order, all smiles and sunshine, she stated that she would be back with their drinks and some breadsticks before she turned and left. Booker nodded but he didn’t forget where he had left off thinking about Juliette’s comment; it was his own turn to reveal more of his life. So, taking a moment to sip at his water, he pursed his lips in thought before responding.

”Okay! My turn! Be ready to…well…be bored.” A big grin. ”Um…Librarian at the New York Public Library for the past 4 years…I volunteer to read stories to kids during the summer…I love to dance…I love to read, clearly…I actually am a pretty awesome player of the ukulele despite what my sister, Nessa, says…” a proud smile accompanied that one. ”…I have been living with her for the last year, maybe year and a half…we actually have a growing fanbase on ViewTube with our channel, Pixel Rainbow where we play videogames…and, I know this may come as a surprise, so brace yourself...but I am a HUGE nerd.” He chuckled as he watched her for a reaction. ”And that’s me.” He then jokingly gestured to the door behind her. "Still time for you to escape if you feel like you have to."

>>”It’s lovely to meet you…”

"And you," Juliette agreed, raising her water glass to toast the occasion before taking a sip. They had technically met twice before, but this was their first attempt to really get to know each other. Was there a better place for that than a romantic little restaurant? Juliette couldn't think of anything.

She leaned forward and set her glass down in order to pay attention to what he was about to say. She was interested to hear what Booker would say to describe himself. Or, at least, the basics, anyway.

Before he could say anything, though, the waitress arrived to take their orders. Juliette smiled at her, but she had to admit that she was a little disappointed that she didn't get to hear his answer before they were interrupted. She turned to the waitress and ordered her lasagne as Booker, again, let her go first.

>>”OH! And an Italian soda, peach please. They’re Italian sodas are pretty awesome.”

Italian soda actually sounded amazing. And the best part? Completely non-alcoholic. Juliette could definitely roll with that. "I'll try the blood orange, please," she told the waitress, who nodded and jotted down another note.

"I'll be back with those in a minute. Enjoy!" The waitress took their menus and left the pair alone at the table once more.

Once again, Juliette leaned forward in her chair to better hear what Booker was about to tell her. It wasn't as if the restaurant was particularly loud (especially where they were sitting), but she wanted to make sure she didn't miss anything.

He began to explain the little details of his life, to which she listened attentively. Most things, she already knew, but there were a few surprises. The ukulele definitely definitely wasn't one of those; she could totally see him sitting with the tiny instrument. It fit his entire persona. Again, volunteering with kids - absolutely adorable, but she already knew that about him. The fact that it was a very regular thing only made her appreciate him more, though.

The thing that surprised her was the fact that he was very close with his sister. Usually, by twenty-eight (yes, she remembered his age from their first meeting), a person was not still living with their sibling. Of course, Juliette had nothing to base that on, being an only child. The only thing that she really had to compare it to was television, which was entirely biased and off-base. Still, it worried her ever so slightly. Was it something to worry about? She hoped not. Rather than dwell on it, she decided to just assume that there was absolutely nothing strange about it.

"A huge nerd? You? No way," she grinned. Of course he was a huge nerd. Anyone could have gathered that with just a glance or two. Juliette thought it was cute, though. He was his own person, and he was so entirely different from anyone she had dated before. It was refreshing.

>>"Still time for you to escape if you feel like you have to."

With a straight face, she glanced at the door, trying to see if she could make it out of the restaurant. "The door is right there..." she trailed off and then laughed to herself. "No, I would have escaped long ago if I had any plans to do that. There's nothing stopping you from doing so, though." Cue the charming wink.

The waitress arrived back at their table just as she said she would and placed down the two sodas. "I'll be back in just a minute with your food."

Their waitress had come at a crucial moment. Booker was just getting ready to offer his response to the fair Juliette when he had been interrupted by the peppy young woman. However, Booker held no ill-will towards her; she was just doing her job. While it was slightly annoying to be interrupted like that, the librarian took the opportunity to gather his thoughts and regather his thoughts. This had to be the toughest part of this date because he was essentially selling himself. He was presenting some key facts about himself and, while he couldn’t reveal everything in one sitting, he was going to have to put his best foot forward. But what else could he say? It wasn’t as if he were entirely THAT interesting.

Once their ordering was done, Booker indicated that he wanted to add an Italian soda to his order and this seemed to immediately catch Juliette’s attention. She beamed and nodded her head, before adding something similar to her own plate.

>> "I'll try the blood orange, please,"

Booker grinned. ”A woman who knows her Italian soda…” he nodded. ”…now I know you’re too good to be true.”

He had to chuckle. As the waitress announced that their food would be here soon, Booker was once more left quite alone in this romantic setting with this woman who had so completely managed to ensnare him. He could feel his nerves starting to creep in, just a little, just enough to remind him that this was a date with someone whom he really liked. Everything he had heard so far from her, he really and truly liked. She was exactly the type of woman he would be dating and, well, that is what was happening right now, wasn’t it?

So, with a brave steeliness in his posture, the librarian straightened up and began to explain a little more about himself. Of course some of it was already gathered information, but he did drop both the fact that he played the ukulele and he lived with his sister. These were important to know right off the bat because living with one’s sister at twenty-eight was, well, a little different for some people. Truth was that Booker could have moved out whenever he wanted. He had the money and the credit, and the only reason he had moved in with her was because of the absolutely terrible break-up he had suffered. But hadn’t enough time passed? Probably, but it wasn’t as if he was going to be able to move out right now just so he wouldn’t have to bring it up. It was best that she knew now just so she didn’t get surprised…when…you know…IF things went that way…not necessarily today…or even at their next date…IF they have a next date…Okay stop.

Additionally, she needed to know about his ukulele. It was his instrument, his baby, but he understood that it wasn’t a favorite of a lot of people. Nessa barely accepted his playing (thought he had a secret suspicion she actually did like it), and more than one has stated that it was strange for him to play. So, if Juliette did have a problem with his favorite instrument, it was best that she knew it now. Total deal breaker, otherwise.

She was attentive and patient the whole time. Booker didn’t miss the fact that she had leaned closer to hear him better, her body poised to show interest in his every word. It did put him a little on the spot (he could feel the spotlight shining down upon his face), but Booker didn’t sway from it. He presented himself as best he could and though he would have understood if Juliette no longer showed any interest in him, but he really and truly hoped that she did.

>> "A huge nerd? You? No way,"

The corners of his eyes crinkled a little bit, true mirth coming to his features as he grinned at the woman’s first comment to what he had said. Yes. He was a nerd. But it was a flag that Booker had no problem flying. It was his passion and interest and why should he be ashamed of it? He was just thankful that Juliette didn’t react badly to that. Of course, if she didn’t realize by now that it was a big part of his life, well, there’s really nothing else he could do for her.

Still, he wasn’t cruel. It was said half-jokingly but he was offering her a way out. He gestured to the door less than twenty feet behind her; if she wanted to go then she had the freedom to do so. He held his breath in anticipation, waiting, preparing to have to eat an entire personal pizza and a lasagna on his own. But, as luck would have it, he would have to be returning to his apartment a complete carbo-loaded mess.

>> "The door is right there...No, I would have escaped long ago if I had any plans to do that. There's nothing stopping you from doing so, though."

He stared back at her, deadpan, no true expression showing on his face after the woman had offered him his own escape. She had winked, she smiled, and she jokingly offered the same in returned. It was only a second that Booker remained unmoving, but it wasn’t to scare her or because he was truly considering running away from this, it was just so that he could take a moment to appreciate this brief second in time. He took that moment to admire her: her beauty, her wit, her tenacity, and Booker knew whatever feelings he had for her were still there. He was smitten; there were no two ways about it.

Shyly, he took a steadying breath and carefully removed his hand from its spot on the table top and reached across the tiny table – to her hand. Gently he placed his hand on top of hers, smiling just a little as he felt that rush in his veins and the spark on her skin; it was still there. His eyes roamed from her hand, up her arm, around her shoulder, and back up to those perfect, soulful brown orbs. His expression began genuine as he shook his head a little.

”Nah…” he said softly. ”…I’m exactly where I want to be…”

Booker continued to stare into Juliette’s eyes, his sweet smile never faltering and his hand not removing from hers as he gently ran his thumb across her knuckles. The presence of the waitress really even didn’t register for him as she return to set their drinks down on the table. He heard something vaguely about their food being out in a mutant and Booker muttered a vague “Thank you” in response as his attention was too focused on the brunette before him. This certainly felt right…

Juliette really wasn't expecting Booker to leave when she offered him the door. As weird as things had been for a short while, it had become clear that they had chemistry. Plus, if Booker was having as good of a time as she was, then there would be no breaks made for that door. They were staying right there.

She grinned and turned her head to the side as she ran her hand through the back of her hair as she glanced down at her water glass. She looked up again as she felt something touch her hand.

>>”Nah… I’m exactly where I want to be…”

Juliette's eyes widened in surprise as she looked between Booker's face and his hand, which he'd placed atop hers. Her face grew warm and red, and she could feel a shiver run down her spine each time his thumb brushed across her knuckles. She never wanted it to stop.

"I am too," she admitted quietly, her breaths much more shallow than before. The restaurant seemed to have quieted down around them; so much so that she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. Was she seventeen again? It felt a lot like she was.

The waitress returned with their drinks, but the two were too distracted to pay her much mind. Juliette echoed Booker's "thank you", but didn't move to get the drink that was placed in front of her. She was too focused on other things. Sitting with Booker felt like a puzzle piece that had just fallen into place. Was it too soon to feel that way? Too soon to have the sudden urge to skip dinner all together and just leave with him? Probably, but that didn't mean she would stop feeling that way.

She cleared her throat and took her hand back slowly and set it down in her lap, trying not to let herself get too distracted. They still had a dinner to eat, after all. If only she still had that menu to distract her...

"Sorry," she clarified, furrowing her brow as she tried to sort through her thoughts, "where were we before? We were getting to know each other?" Man, it was hard to think when he was looking at her.

There was still a glaring question that needed to be asked. One that could undo all the good things about their date and make her turn and leave if he felt differently. She dreaded having to ask it, but it was a necessary thing to discuss. If they felt differently, then there would be no salvaging the date. It would be over in a flash, and she would have to bury her feelings deep down where they wouldn't be accessed again. God, she hoped he answered right.

"So, I was listening to this pod cast," she began. The pod cast had been years ago. It was just something she used to get the ball rolling without jumping in and asking outright. "They were discussing mutant rights, or something. Anyway, they said that the population of America is split with about seventy percent wanting mutants to have all the rights that humans do, and thirty percent wanting humans to have better rights. Weird numbers, huh?"

It had felt awkward, the way she ended that sentence. She felt her face go red again, so she grabbed her soda and took a quick sip, only stopping part way through (when she realized how good it was) to savour the flavour. Carefully, she glanced back at Booker to watch his reaction as she did so. All she had to do was not get lost in those green eyes.

Easier said than done.

It was just a gentle touch of the hand. There merest of whispers of skin against skin, of his thumb caressing the small ridges that made the knuckles of her hand. He was a bit worried when he started this gesture, if we’re being honest here. He knew what could come about from touching the woman. Just the smallest graze of her hand, of feeling his fingers stroke the very top of her skin, it was enough to ignite the fuses deep within his body. It was dangerous. If he strayed too long, Booker knew that he was putting himself at risk of ruining this chance of getting to know her. Action would rule over logic, he would cross the table, and he would meet her lips again.

Of course he would have more control than that. They had to be more than that, especially with the chemistry the two of them were feeling. That was why, even if he was disappointed by the fact that she pulled her hand away, that he was also thankful for it. Lord knows he wouldn’t have had the strength to do so himself, so he relinquished his hand from over hers the second she started to slowly pull back. Did she feel that very same short fuse the two of them happened to share? If so, he had to applaud her for her level of control.

A deep breath and Booker returned his own hand to himself, giving her a sweet and understanding smile in the process. His hand found its way to his peach soda, pulling it to his side of the table, where he casually started to swirl the contents within with his straw. It was merely a distraction, a means to keep his hands busy and occupy his mind between moments of talking. When she was talking, he was attentive and listened closely, when she wasn’t, well, it was difficult to remain on his own side of the table.

Thankfully he wouldn’t have to stir for long…

>> "Sorry…where were we before? We were getting to know each other?"

He dipped his head down, nodding and smiling at her bringing them back to topic. That’s right. They were supposed to be getting to know one another. This was a date, after all, and so far, while it was already going pretty well, there was still a lot that should be discussed and much more to be discovered. Shaken from his own musings, the librarian nodded his head, confirming her thoughts.

”Yes! Yes…” he said with a breath. ”That we are and, if I may say, you are a delight getting to know.”

Taking up his drink, Booker took a long deserved sip from his soda and sighed contentedly. Oh how he would have probably sipped the whole thing through the straw between his slips and rudely slurped at the bottom until every last bit of the sweet, fruity, deliciously was nothing more than a memory. But he knew he had to pace out his drink, there was no point in wasting all of it right now. So, another small sip, he set his glass down, resting back against his chair a little and giving the woman a smile as he tried to think of what else he could ask her, judging what was too mundane to ask versus what was too personal to inquiry. This was probably the one that thing Booker hated about first dates, the trying to maneuver these choppy waters of appropriateness.

Juliette would be the first to break the silence with a rather different change of topic…

>> "So, I was listening to this pod cast…They were discussing mutant rights, or something. Anyway, they said that the population of America is split with about seventy percent wanting mutants to have all the rights that humans do, and thirty percent wanting humans to have better rights. Weird numbers, huh?"

In the midst of listening / being entranced by her voice, their waitress had slipped by again, bringing a small basket of thin, crisp Italian breadsticks covered in sesame seeds, and leaving them at the edge of their table. Booker had muttered a silent “Thank you” again, but his eyes were wholly on Juliette as she began to describe the podcast she had listened to. Reaching over, he tucked the basket of bread sticks a little closer into the table in hopes of suffering the tragedy of them falling into a heap on the ground; he didn’t take one, though. Instead the man merely listened.

So far it had sounded like an interesting podcast. To be fair Booker had heard a few in his lifetime, also discussing mutant rights and their place in the world. His expression betrayed nothing of what he was thinking on the subject, and instead was solely centered on the woman before him. When she had reached the end of her commentary, uplifted with a “huh?” at the end, Booker finally breathed again and nodded his head.

”Very odd…” he said.

Now, here was the kicker. If there was one thing that should be known about Booker B. Bookman, it was how pro-mutant he was. Working in a job that was seeped in knowledge and history, it was eye opening to see how the world has treated people who were different. Races, genders, religions, now genetics, it was the same argument all over again but with a different wrapping. In truth, for Booker, to see anyone try to push down another people was just tragic and a real reminder of how the world at large treats those who go against the norm. However, for as sad as that was to see the same crimes being repeated over and over again, he also knew that (much like the others) the beliefs would topple; they always did.

Finally taking up a breadstick (he was starting to get pretty hungry and the soda alone wouldn’t do it), Booker snapped it carefully in half before he bit on end and thoughtfully chewed. He liked Juliette, he really did, but if she was bringing this up in order to get him on that 30% anti-mutant band wagon, then all this would end up being the most tragic loss of his time. He didn’t want to think that the nurse was like that, but…well…he had been surprised before.

Maybe it was better she know his stance right off the bat as opposed to beating around the bush. After all, there was always an equal chance that she was merely trying to gauge whether he was pro-mutant…like her. He would have to roll the dice.

Swallowing his bit of breadstick, Booker breathed a hefty breath and responded. ”Tragic…” he said, enigmatically at first. ”…that in this day and way people can still be so bigoted.” Leaning back in his chair, he took another nibble of his breadstick. There was no turning back now. ”I mean, I get that the ‘new’ can be scary, that some mutants had some seriously dangerous powers, but they’re DNA is still basically the same. No matter what, we’re all still human.” He gave her a soft smile. Might as well go for broke. ”I’ve marched at a peaceful pro-mutant rally or two…if we’re being honest.”

He looked away for a moment, almost scared of what her reaction to that news would be. After a second he glanced back to her, trying to gauge her reaction. He hoped it was favorable. And, if not, well, he could probably still make for the door without having to take the check.

In the midst of a heavy silence, the waitress returned with a basket to breadsticks. Juliette gave her a quick smile once again and then watched as she left. She really did pick the most opportune moments to show up.

She had figured that Booker was just waiting for the waitress to leave. That seemed like the most convenient option. Then, he didn't answer.

For a moment or two, Juliette held her breath. She had set her drink down while she waited for an answer to her poorly-worded question and tried not to worry that he was taking his time answering. He'd given her two words and then trailed off, remaining silent for a while. Maybe it was too poorly-worded? Maybe he wasn't going to discuss it with her?

Or maybe, like a regular human being with regular though processes, he was just taking a minute before he answered. She watched him take a piece of bread and chew it for a minute, clearly in thought. That was a good sign, at least. She did the same, taking a piece of bread and tearing off a piece to distract herself with. Silently, she willed him to say something else so she wouldn't feel like such a complete screwup.

Mostly, she was just hoping that she hadn't gone too far. Some people were extremely touchy about social justice issues, while others still were completely unwilling to discuss such heavy topics on a first date. Still, Juliette needed to know. If he felt differently, she wasn't going to finish out the date. There was no way around that. As much as she liked Booker, her mutation was her life, and she could neither hide it from him nor could she compromise on the subject. It was make or break.

Eventually, the silence was broken.

>>”Tragic…”

...

>>”…that in this day and way people can still be so bigoted.”

Thank God. "Yeah, it really is," Juliette agreed, leaning back in her chair as she tried to keep herself from grinning while talking about the touchy subject. She had been scared for a while there, and her hand had started to travel to her bag to make a quick break for it. However, she'd gotten the answer that she wanted. Or, at least, the answer that was being fed to her. She really hoped that he was being sincere.

>>”I mean, I get that the ‘new’ can be scary, that some mutants had some seriously dangerous powers, but they’re DNA is still basically the same. No matter what, we’re all still human. I’ve marched at a peaceful pro-mutant rally or two…if we’re being honest.”

Her smile grew wider. She'd thought that it wasn't possible to like Booker any more than she already did, but there it was. She officially liked him more than she had before.

While his responses didn't suggest that he was a mutant, they did suggest that he supported the mutant cause. More than that, actually, he fought for it. He was a fighter, just like she was. It was too soon to be making any connections or assumptions like that, but there her brain went, off the tracks as usual.

"We might have gone to the same ones, then," Juliette told him. While she didn't attend every one, she had been attending far more recently, since the X-Men were often supposed to be there for both support and security. She enjoyed them quite a bit, too. "The Odessa one was intense."

She took a bite of the piece of bread that she'd ripped off and chewed it slowly, no longer in a rush for words or answers. They were on the same page, and that was what she needed. For then, anyway.

"That makes you... a mutant... supporter?" she asked slowly, figuring she would try her hand at one more question.

There it was. Booker laid out exactly what he believed in. He was a mutant supporter, through and through. Booker had always been one. He was an educated man, one who had seen the path of history and what happens to those people who are disenfranchised. It broke his heart to watch documents or movies about the subject. To watch these kinds of human atrocities, to see them act so close-minded and cold to their fellow people, it was just too much to bear sometimes. But, despite all those, Booker liked to believe that he knew a bit better than those people. That he was educated, that he was smart, that he wouldn’t repeat those mistakes; and he would fight for those who couldn’t.

Now Booker wasn’t some hippie, wearing Birkenstocks, sitting around a campfire and singing sounds of uniting and peace. But he was someone who felt it appropriate to express his opinion and to do whatever he could to help people. He marched, or sat, when there was an event he was able to attend and he spoke loudly about his opinions several times over when he and Nessa updated their gaming channel. Still, these were important parts of his life and he needed to make sure Juliette knew this side of him, lest she get herself into a situation she wanted no part of.

As he chewed on his breadstick, he did comment on how odd those numbers were and, with bated breath, went into his spiel about how he felt. He didn’t see mutants as sub-citizens, but just as any other person. They couldn’t help what they were, no one could, so why subjugate or punish them? Booker was one who felt that equality was important in life and he made sure to regal the young nurse with those thoughts of his.

It was only after he had admitted that he had taken part in a few rallys that he turned his eyes, fearful of what she would say. Would this be it? Were they done already? But, as he turned his eyes up to her, Booker felt a swell of appreciation for the young woman again. He didn’t need to worry – she was smiling.

>> "We might have gone to the same ones, then…The Odessa one was intense."

He smiled. Wide, relieved, and even more beguiled by the woman. She really did seem too good to be true sometimes. She attended those rallies as well? He let those thoughts swim in his head. What were the odds? Maybe they had even met before and he never would have known it! It all only added more weight to the concept that these two were almost meant to meet. For what reason, in what capacity, well, that was yet to be found out, but judging from the combustible air the two of them seemed to possess whenever they were together, it seemed to be fairly obvious.

”Maybe,” he said with an endearing smile. At the mention of Odessa, the man arched his eyebrows, a look of both sadness for the event and giddiness at the idea that he too had attended that particular rally. ”Of course I was there,” he confirmed. ”I mean…it was such a tragedy and the turnout was so spectacular that it was hard to miss. It was absolutely terrible what happened, but it was good to see so many people uniting. Those X-Men,” he nodded. ”They really knew what to say. I only hope it doesn’t need to be repeated.”

Booker grinned at the woman, watching as she munched on one of the breadsticks. They were really reaching a natural groove now and it was becoming less and less difficult to come up with conversation pieces. Another bite of his breadstick, Booker chewed on it thoughtfully for a second before taking a sip of his drink to moisten his throat. Just as he did so, Juliette inquired of him again…

>> "That makes you... a mutant... supporter?"

Finishing his sip, he nodded his head, giving her a proud smile. ”Certainly,” he confirmed. ”Proud supporter for years,” he nodded. He then sighed as he tilted his gaze to her. ”I had a good friend in college, he was a mutant,” Deepened sigh. ”Could make things explode. Hell of a party trick. Unfortunately he got a little too stressed thanks to finals and…” Remorseful breath. ”…anyways, a lot of people got hurt. I...almost did.” A careful shrug of his shoulders and another sip of his drink. ”I knew it wasn’t his fault. He just…lost control. It was a shame, yes, but even surviving that I would still support.”

The incident Juliette may have heard of. About six years ago there were splatterings of news of an explosion in a fraternity where a damaged gas line was blamed. Booker and a few of the other survivors knew the truth but their sides of the story were essentially squashed out, dismissed by the college, forgotten and erased from the eye of the public. But Booker knew, he always would, and despite the misery that came from it, he would always support mutants.

Her thoughts had trailed back to the Odessa rally the previous summer. Despite the fact that it had been less than a year since it had occurred, it still felt like forever ago. It had been directly after that rally that she'd volunteered to join the X-men, spurred on by the events that she'd just witnessed second-hand. A lifetime had passed since then, even though she was still adjusting. She couldn't imagine going back to the way her life had been before.

The strangest thing that she was still trying to wrap her head around was the fact that she and Booker could have been standing in the same space all that time ago without even realizing. Had she felt that magnetic connection before without knowing? They could have been feet apart and never known.

>>”I mean…it was such a tragedy and the turnout was so spectacular that it was hard to miss. It was absolutely terrible what happened, but it was good to see so many people uniting. Those X-Men... They really knew what to say. I only hope it doesn’t need to be repeated.”

Juliette nodded emphatically. From the sounds of it, Booker was not only a mutant supporter, but a supporter of the X-Men. She didn't feel like she would have to hide that part of her life from him at all. Then and there, she decided that she would tell him exactly why she was a bit different than the average human, but not then. They were sitting in the middle of a restaurant, after all, and a nice one at that. If the topic came up directly, then she would talk about it, but she wasn't about to bring it up without reason.

"Cafas... did a good job with that speech," Juliette nodded, thinking back to the time when it was necessary to talk like that. The pink-haired mutant had done an excellent job of putting things plainly but respectfully. "And Abby, the little girl. Both of them were really something else that day."

Her question of his position as a mutant supporter went answered, and she got the answer she was expecting. He was not a mutant, from the sounds of it. She couldn't be too disappointed, though - just about every other part of him was perfect, and despite the fact that she knew more mutants than the average person, they weren't all that common. It wasn't unusual for him to be a human, but she had gotten lucky with the fact that he was a mutant supporter, so it was good enough for her.

Besides, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that it would be a good thing to have a part of her life that didn't revolve around the X-Men and her powers. If he stayed in her life, that was. She was getting ahead of herself again.

The thing about his response was that it more than answered her question. A friend in college had lost control of his powers and caused an accident. She gave him a sad glance, trying to imagine what it must've been like to have something like that happen, especially in a time like college years. "Booker, I'm so sorry," she breathed, placing her hand on top of his.

The idea of that triggered something in Juliette, a news article that she remembered from years ago. If she was remembering the article correctly, then there had only been one person that got out unscathed. A male student. "Were... were you that student that got out unharmed? Despite everything?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep. She imagined that it couldn't have been easy to come out of something like that. Even just reading about it had made her emotional, and she hadn't experienced it.

Every second he was with Juliette, it just seemed more and more like forces beyond themselves were pushing them together. Booker liked to think that people could govern their own journey but the paths that both Juliette and Booker took just seemed to constantly be syncing up. Their interests, their passions, the fact that they were both mutant supporters in a world that was fearful of them, even the idea that they were both at the same rallies without even realizing it was painting a pretty clear picture; maybe they were just supposed to be together.

But, as interesting (and romantic) as that idea was, if anything his discussion with Nessa those weeks ago had proved to him that this was decidedly more complicated. Questions needed to answered, time together had to be had, they needed to see if compatibility was actually a thing that existed between them beyond the level of just smooching in exceeding romantic locales. They needed patience, despite the fact that the universe seemed to be screaming in their ears. They had to be sure.

Moving on to more sensitive topics, i.e. their beliefs on mutants, Booker outright admitted that he was a mutant supporter. He always did. That was not something he ever wanted to hide about himself, especially when his sister’s ex-girlfriend was not only a mutant, but a member of the X-Men! After all the good that they did for the city, for the world really, how could anyone think anything about against them. Sadly he knew it was possible. Mutants will always have those people too scared to accept them, people who were fine with the status quo. But while there were people who did that, Booker would stand with them.

They were good people and they needed a cheering section too.

As he confirmed that he had been to the Odessa rally too, Booker found himself unable to escape from the idea that they could have been at the same one. They both heard the X-Men bravely take the stage, they both listened as the pink-haired mutant, Alchemist, gave an impassioned speech about equality and turning the other cheek. He had even heard that little girl, begging for people to just stop. Booker had shed tears at that rally, and to know that they spilled on the same ground as Juliette, well, he just wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

>> "Cafas... did a good job with that speech…And Abby, the little girl. Both of them were really something else that day."

”Certainly,” Booker agreed. ”If anyone was going to speak for Odessa that day, it needed to be them.” he said with a soft smile.

As the topic turned away from the rally, Juliette had asked if he had always been a mutant supporter. Before he could really think otherwise about it, Booker had gone into one of the big incidents that helped shape him. Not only was it a memorable ordeal to have to have gone through, it was also one of those things that the librarian knew helped to define him. Maybe it wasn’t the most suitable conversation to have on a first date, but Booker was too deep into explain his beliefs on mutant support to leave it out. It was a shaping moment for him, after all.

The story seemed to immediately hit a chord with Juliette. The look of surprise and sympathy on her face simply couldn’t not be denied. He didn’t know her experiences with mutants but if she were the supporter she said she was, she would certainly understand where he was coming from. They all heard the bad things that anti-mutant activists had latched onto in hopes of proving that mutants are too dangerous to be left unleashed. But it was important to note, as well, that that it took real strength to stand beside them, even in the hardest of times.

For Booker, the night that Jamal’s powers went haywire, was a night that he would never forget (nor could he). He would always remember the young man’s face, the anger, the frustration, the stress, and the vision of those destructive fire exploding out of his body. It was like watching a grenade explode in a cartoon. He could practically see the waves of orange, yellow, and red as they burst away from Jamal in undulating waves. There were still times that it woke him up in the middle of the night.

>> "Booker, I'm so sorry,"

He was shaken from his thoughts that he blinked for a moment in confusion. His eyes fell down to his hand, feeling an odd pressure on it that he didn’t notice before. It took him a second to realize that Juliette had actually placed her hand over his, a comforting gesture. He breathed again, a short breath, but a breath nonetheless and gave her a warm smile. He was coming back and her compassion only made him turn his lips a little in thought. She really as just so very perfect.

”Thank you,” he said softly. Another second and the usual ray of sunshine that was Booker B. Bookman could be seen flashing across his features. Turning his hand around under hers, he carefully curled his fingers around her hand and just held it. It felt good. He nodded his head. ”I’m okay now. Scout’s honor.”

After a few more seconds of holding her hand, Booker breathed in deep, smiled, and reached over with his free hand to claim his Italian soda again. Taking a long sip, he carefully gave her hand a soft squeeze and just nodded his head, again, that he was fine. However his story did more than just make her sympathetic – it jogged her memory.

>> "Were... were you that student that got out unharmed? Despite everything?"

So…she had heard about it. He knew that most of the press stories that had been published blamed the whole thing on a leaking gas line, but there were a few, smaller papers and rumor mags, that published the truth and were disregarded. Which version Juliette knew, he wasn’t sure, but the common denominator between either was the anonymous surviving student who walked away without a scratch.

Booker took a breath as he stared back at Juliette’s eyes. He wasn’t a mutant, that he knew of, he was what most called an adapted; it was what save his life that day. But would Juliette know the difference? If she was a mutant supporter, maybe. The truth was that adapteds, from his understanding, were extremely rare. Even the hardiest of supporter may not know what one is. So, should he even try to tell her? It was a big part of his life, that was for sure, but it wasn’t as if it would affect her. It only affected mutants, right?

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and, carefully, nodded his head. ”Yeah,” he said in earnest and with no hint of a joke or a gag in his voice. He shrugged his shoulders, presenting himself rather unimpressively. ”That…was me.” He then repeated the moniker that had circled around the school for the years that fooled. ”The-Luckiest-Sonnvab****”. A small smile and aslight chuckle fell from his lips. Maybe she would just think it was luck? Would probably be easier for both if she did.

As Booker awaited her reaction, he glanced off to the side to see that, indeed, their waitress was on the way over, one hand holding a rather large plate of lasagna, and the other, a small chopping block where his personal pizza sat upon. It seemed, with her usual apt timing, their waitress was bringing their meal.

The hand that she'd placed on top of Booker's had been received well. Well enough for him to turn his hand around and hold it, anyway. She gave him a small smile, her eyes flashing down to where they were touching briefly. More than anything, she just wanted to keep them like that. Keep them intertwined and never worry about having them fall away from each other again.

The memories that Booker was dredging up to explain his willingness to support mutants didn't seem to be good ones. She hated to imagine the recovery process after something like that, especially while losing a friend in the process. Grief was a heavy weight that could follow people around forever; she knew that well.

Booker, on the other hand, had survived the ordeal in perfect condition. Juliette had remembered reading about him; the anonymous student who had walked away without a scratch. As if survivors guilt wasn't already enough.

"Booker, I'm sorry that happened to you," she told him earnestly as the waitress approached. She took her hand back and let it rest in her lap, the path between their arms having been cut off by the food. While it smelled amazing, and she was hungry, she couldn't help but resent the fact that she had to take her hand away.

"It's just too bad that that luck didn't follow you to the hospital dance contest," she joked, trying her best to lighten the mood. The last thing that she wanted to do was make him continue to focus on a horrible subject matter. Dates were supposed to be happy, good times, after all. Not times for going over past worries and hardships. Well, first dates, anyway.

Still, she was mulling over the fact that Booker hadn't been scathed by a mutant attack. Within the mansion walls, there was lots of chatter about adapteds, especially with Gemma, the counsellor, around. Unless Booker had some sort of shield mutation, adaptedness was really the only explanation that she could think of for why he could have possibly escaped from an attack by a mutant. She regarded him curiously, trying to figure out whether that was the case or not.

Of course, she didn't want to pry the information out of him. If he was an adapted, then that was information for him to tell her, not for her to try to guess. She wouldn't have wanted him to expose her as a mutant before she was ready to come out and say it, after all. Then again, she didn't want to be left guessing...

Booker had made her feel safe, like she didn't have to worry about her past or her genetic code. She felt safe enough to decide that it was alright to share the truth in a public space after all. Just perhaps in a hushed tone. Her eyes darted back and forth quickly to make sure that the rest of the restaurant was focused on their own meals and conversations before continuing. Sure, the public opinion on mutants was good then, but it was hard to know who might have been listening and what kinds of prejudices they might have. She had been given the ability to keep it a secret, which physical mutants often didn't get, and she planned to make the most of it.

Juliette took a breath before starting on the topic. "I should tell you something," she began, "well, several things. I'm... not just a mutant supporter. I am a mutant. And that private school that I teach at is Xavier's Sister School. I'm also a member of the X-Men."

There it was, plain and simple. It was both the biggest part of her life and her current biggest secret. If Booker had been embellishing about his support for mutants, then it was the time for him to admit that. She wasn't about to block the door. She only hoped that he still felt the same way about everything as he had claimed to before, because she really happened to be enjoying the date. While she waited for his reaction, she cut a piece of her lasagne and took a bite

It was always hard for Booker to think back on Jamal. Though he didn’t tell Juliette the whole truth, that he had Jamal had actually been dating at the time, it was still a hard topic to bring up. They weren’t serious or anything like that, it had just been a college thing but the event had far reaching effects on the man sitting before her. He had always been an advocate for mutants but most would have figured that the incident would have poisoned his view of them.

Needless to say it only made him a bit more sympathetic. He firmly believed that if Jamal had gotten the help he needed, met the right people, and didn’t have to hide his powers that he would have been able to control them and avoid all of this. But that was the past. Years had passed and while Booker still paused to think about Jamal from time to time, it was purely as a lesson, not the lamentation of a lost love.

But breaking the news to Juliette had some rather interesting results, though not surprising if she were a mutant supporter as she said she was. Her hand found a home over his and Booker was shaken from his thoughts. Turning his gaze back to her, the librarian smiled, the sensation of her hand upon his feeling so right in the moment. Carefully he turned his hand out, slipping hers onto his palm where closed his fingers around it. It was warm, soft, and still there was the small charge of chemistry he could feel flowing from her skin onto his.

It was like magic.

>> "Booker, I'm sorry that happened to you,"

He dipped his head down, the sadness there but it was aged and already wearing off. The nodded his head, looking away briefly before lifted his gaze to her again. ”I appreciate that. Really.” And he did.

>> "It's just too bad that that luck didn't follow you to the hospital dance contest,"

The sadness was melting away. He couldn’t be sad right now. He was on an amazing date with an amazing woman and that should be his attention. He tried to wave the incident off, capping it as just another incident of him being one of the luckiest guys in the city. However Juliette was quick to help try to alleviate any tension that could have arisen thanks to his story with a tiny joke at his expense. Someone more sensitive would have probably taken it as ill-timed but, as it was said, that event was years ago and Booker was never one to let the storm clouds gather for too long.

A large smile broke over his face as he tilted his head at her, giving her a faux-offended expression. ”Wow, you’re going to go there, huh?” He chuckled. A shake of his head followed as he could see their meal was upon them. ”I still think that the judge, for as smart and attractive as she is, was paid off.” He gave a small wink in her direction.

Their food set before them, Booker returned his hand to his side of the table, only momentarily getting a bit irritated with the waitress who kept managed to pop in at times where it was least appropriate. However, he knew she was just doing her job and, either way, the food had to be delivered. So, with a practiced and patient smile that only a librarian could possess, Booker beamed at the waitress as food was set down. Before Juliette was the rather large bowl with a chunk of lasagna in it, and in front of himself was the wooden slab with his homemade Italian pizza on it.

Everything just smelled so wonderful. Making their own ingredients from scratch was time-consuming, but looking at the fair before them and Booker was grateful for it. After spreading a napkin over his lap, he picked up on slice of his pizza by the crust and pulled it off. The mozzarella cheese pulled, leaving strings grasping onto the entirely in a vain attempt to stay whole. A drop of tomato sauce fell upon the wooden plank, and the scent of basil and other authentic herbs wafted through the air before him.

He couldn’t wait. He took a bite and sighed a bit in satisfaction at the flavor. It had been too long since he was last here, and even then it was with Nessa after her terrible break-up with Rebecca. To share such good food with such good company as Juliette provided, well, it was just perfection in his book. Setting his slice down, he sighed as he took a sip of his soda and finished chewing, dabbing his fingers on his napkin. He was going to ask how her lasagna was but it seemed that there were was something else on her lips…

>> "I should tell you something…well, several things. I'm... not just a mutant supporter. I am a mutant. And that private school that I teach at is Xavier's Sister School. I'm also a member of the X-Men."

Admittedly, when Juliette first started talking, he got a little nervous. He could only imagine what she was going to say. Was it something bad, like, was she actually married? Or maybe it was something entirely different, like maybe she had a kid he didn’t know about (which would have been fine with him). But it seemed that his imagination had quickly run from zero-to-thirty, with no indication of what her secret could be – and certainly wasn’t prepared for what fell from her lips.

Watching her with an unreadable expression, Booker found himself…admittedly surprised. Like, really surprised. She was a mutant. That was really not a problem for him. He had been with mutants before (Svetlana briefly came to mind), but to add a cherry to the cordial, she was actually an X-Man? He was on a date with a freakin’ X-MAN? He gave off one, shuddering breath…and tried so, so hard not to fangirl right now because it would be drastically uncool. Still, he couldn’t help the uplift of his eyebrows or the twinkle in his eyes. As much as he wanted to just stare in awe, though, he needed to actually say something, anything.

”J-Jesus Christ…” he said in astonishment. He looked at her closely, scrutinizing her with both awe and curiosity. He followed the X-Men on social media, especially when his sister started dating one, and he had to marvel at something that had initially slipped past his attention – he recognized her. Not just from the dance off in the hospital but from reports and recordings on YouTube. In an equally hushed and respectful voice, he leaned in whisper, ”…y-you’re Firefly. Oh… my god…you’re THE Firefly.”

He sat back in his chair as he looked over the woman very closely, unable to really process what it was that was happening right now. He was on a date with an actual X-Man – AND it was actually going well. To be fair Booker didn’t think anything like this was at all possible but he wanted to try and at least keep a crumb of coolness about his person. However, from the gleeful expression on his face and the astonishment in his voice, he was quickly failing. A deep breath, followed by another and Booker was calming. Still he was geeking out, but he was calm.

He gulped. ”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to nerd out…” He sighed, looking just a little timid before her. ”I just…wow…I mean…I’m such a big fan and I respect what you guys do and…” Another breath. ”…I’m sorry. Really. I…jeez…I feel like I’m making a complete spaz out of myself…”