Guess I'm just a play date to you

[phdmotherfucker]

Who: Harleen, Alec, and special secret spies guests
What: A blind date from Hell (because a demon set it up, get it)
When: Feb 14th, 8 PM
Where: Antonio's Restaurant
Warnings: None

Harleen never did work up the courage to text the number the Duane Reade demon gave her, and was seriously considering calling the whole thing off or at least pulling a no-show. But then her mother knocked on her door and looked deeply disappointed at hearing her daughter would be staying in on Valentine's, then strongly hinted that she'd been hoping Harleen would be out all evening so the parents could have a "very romantic, private sort of night."

So obviously Harleen could not be anywhere in a five mile radius of home with that cursed knowledge.

She put on a nice dress and jacket, nothing too flashy or that could lead to ... certain expectations, and headed out to meet her doom. Dinner. Her dinner date.

She arrived too early, as she usually did, and was seated at the table first. She ordered a glass of wine and promised herself that everything was going to be just fine. No date could be as bad as the one in her other self's memories.

Comments

[serpentinthegarden]

The text wasn't really necessary since he had been spying on the entire date but one doesn't say that! He took a moment to send her a thumbs up emoji and a moment longer to text an uber for an Alec pickup.

[phdmotherfucker]

He hit his head on the table. Probably not hard enough to be an issue but he's drunk enough he might hurt himself again.

And one last thing, don't set people up who don't want to be set up. Asshole.

[serpentinthegarden]

If I took that advice he would never go anywhere.

Besides... now you know he is honest. Brutally, but that's a good trait.

[phdmotherfucker]

Now I know he is absolutely miserable and determined to take everyone else for a ride. I tried very hard to have a nice time anyway. Almost succeeded.

[ And then a while later... ]

Is it true that he's dying? Because as long as you're meddling: therapy.

[serpentinthegarden]

No! He keeps saying that but its not going to happen... It's a work in progress.

[ If Alec had something he felt he should live for maybe he would stop trying to die. But not like Anthony is going to write anything so sappy even if he was thinking it. ]

Gold star for that by the way. For not tossing your wine into his face or slamming the pasta down on his head.

[phdmotherfucker]

Definitely, definitely therapy. I can recommend some people.

I admit I was tempted, but I'm not wasting anything at those prices. Anyway he's not as bad as he thinks he is.

[serpentinthegarden]

I could use a list. Not that he would go to any of them.

But, I was hoping some one else would notice that. Alec is tough to get to know but worth it.

[phdmotherfucker]

I'll confirm who is taking new patients and send you a list next week.

You really shouldn't set him up on anymore dinner dates. Especially since he doesn't seem to eat.

[serpentinthegarden]

It seemed like a good/bad idea at the time. Get him out, meeting people.

[phdmotherfucker]

I can't believe I agreed to it.

[serpentinthegarden]

You really should have known better than accepting a blind dinner date from a stranger in the card aisle. It could have been to meet a real creep not... a socially awkward cousin.

[phdmotherfucker]

I just had a breakup. I'm emotionally vulnerable. Shame on you for taking advantage.

[serpentinthegarden]

Two lonely people getting together... Was any harm actually done?

[phdmotherfucker]

He hit his head on the table.

So.

Literally yes.

[serpentinthegarden]

Seriously hurt! If the ambulance hasn't been called then it doesn't count.

[phdmotherfucker]

So particular.