#i sure hope they gave Fares Fares a nice hot drink after that recording session

[awo-audios]

Hii! Could we get the dialogue after you jump out of the plane? Cuz there's quite a bit of it before and after the "Why are you so afraid of heights anyway" convo you already posted here. Thank you so much :D

Sure! Here's everything I could find for the "Skydive" scene :D

[melissatreglia]

First Date

(After waaaaay too damn long, I managed to edit @southerndragontamer​‘s and my first-ever roleplaying session into a proper fic for ease of reading. Back in December 23, 2017, Dark and Grace went on their first date at a coffee shop. Be warned: you’re gonna lose a filling or two on this sweetness. :D )

Dark waited patiently at a wrought-iron table outside the charming little café for Grace to arrive. His aura was pulled in so as to not draw unwanted attention to Himself… or potentially cause panic among the people drifting in and out of the cozy establishment.

It was an unseasonably warm day for late December, and there was no chilly breezes to cut through the balmy air. In sharp contrast, Annie Lennox’s voice drifted over from the speakers inside the shop, and her pre-recorded tune was a sweet melody about building snowmen and walking in a winter wonderland.

To anyone watching, He looked like an ordinary – if handsome and rather well-heeled – young man expecting His date to arrive at any moment.

He absently brushed imaginary lint off the shoulder of His light woolen jacket, nodding in thanks to the waitress as she refilled His coffee mug. He did a quick inventory to make sure that not a single thread was out of place on His business casual suit. He then began to tap His fingers lightly against the container, stopping when He realized He was fidgeting.

Why was He getting restless? There was no rationale whatsoever for this bout of nerves. She’s just a girl, after all, He reasoned to Himself with cold logic. Only one of billions of humans on this planet.

He also knew that, in addition to the public setting, that Melissa and Ulysses were both already here somewhere. He couldn’t see where they were hiding precisely, but He could definitely sense their presence nonetheless. No doubt in an effort to protect their friend, because they suspected ill of Him.

He could scarcely blame them. It wasn’t like He’d given cause for them to think otherwise.

But He had no desire to harm this one. She had appealed to Him from the first, her quiet and soft nature a balm. And her blushes were quite charming, to say the least.

His gaze continued to scan the crowd, anticipating Grace’s arrival. He was finally gratified to see her walking down the street, sneakers thudding softly against the pavement. He saw her take a deep breath, shoving her trembling hands into her pockets. When she looked up from watching her own feet on the ground and her eyes met His, her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met. A lovely pink blush coloured along her face, but she closed the distance between them as He rose to His feet.

The smile on her face warmed His cold heart. "Hello again, Sir," she said, her voice soft and shy. The blush deepened noticeably when He took her hand and kissed the back of it in a chivalrous manner.

A smile spread on His face, mirroring hers. "Hello, Grace. You look lovely this evening." His voice lacked the echo and white noise, but was still fairly deep with His signature coolly polite tone. “How have you been faring since we last spoke?”

“Th-Thank You Sir, you look handsome as well. I’ve been well, getting ready for the holidays.” She sighed tiredly, pushing her glasses up her nose. “And dealing with an unruly family member along with that...”

He pulled out her chair for her, silently entreating her to sit with Him. She took the offered seat, smiling in gratitude for the kind gesture.

“Ah, yes. Family can be difficult from time to time,” He replied, as He wandered back to His seat across from her. “But they are still family, nonetheless.”

Grace nodded in agreement, adding, “That reminds me of a quote from the Disney film 'Lilo and Stitch': Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.” She then giggled. "And I agree. Family is family, even if they are difficult."

Amused by her response, He gave a low chuckle. “I’m afraid I have never seen that film, but I can appreciate the sentiment."

Dark signaled to the waitress, who came over to their table for Grace's order. Grace tucked a long lock of her brunette hair behind her ear, looking up at Dark with a hesitant expression. “I’ve never been here before, Sir. What would You recommend?”

“The coffee is really quite excellent, as are the croissants.” He took a judicious sip from His own hot beverage.

Grace smiled and laughed teasingly. "I'll take your word on it, Sir." She then turned to the waitress. "I'll just have a glass of water and a croissant, please ma'am." When the waitress left, Grace took a deep breath to study an obvious bout of nerves. "Dark, there's... there's something important I should tell You..."

He placed His mug neatly on the table and folded His hands together. “And what would that be, My dear?”

There was nothing to suggest anything beyond a mild curiosity in His demeanour, but she nonetheless recognized the hidden bite in that question. She swallowed and took another deep breath, meeting His deep, dark eyes.

“Dark, Sir... Do You remember the rescue operation in October that was launched for Miss Melissa, when she was Your... ah, house guest?”

“Indeed. I remember everything.” He considered her for a long, silent moment that was heavy with unspoken meaning. “You were involved in that, weren’t you?”

She nodded. "Yes, Sir. I was." She slowly took her glasses off, ignoring as best she could how everything around the table blurred without them, and set them on the table. She then met His gaze again, letting Him see the emotions in her eyes without the thin glass shield. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I was the one who provided the consecrated acid. I'm not ashamed of it, because I did it to protect Melissa. She's my friend and I'd do it again, if I had to, even though it probably wouldn't work again. I also suggested using cold iron against You."

“I see.”

For a split second, a feeling of pressure and electricity pervaded the air, as if lightning were about to strike. The hairs on her arms and neck stood up as His power uncoiled around them with His anger. But reality instantly snapped back on itself so quickly, it was almost as if it never happened.

He closed His eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again to gaze at her calmly. “Forgive me,” He said in a carefully neutral tone for the fright it may have caused her. “I am sure your only concern was for the welfare of your friend. That is quite commendable, even noble.”

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She fumbled for her glasses, her hands shaking as she put them back on. Giving herself a moment to calm her racing heart, she allowed herself a small smile.

“It's alright, sir. I understand. And I was very worried for Miss Melissa; that’s why I did it in the first place. I don't really like hurting anyone, even a Hellgod, without a good reason."

He nodded at this, His expression softening into the hint of a smile. “I know you are not a violent person by nature, dearest Grace. And I should only expect such a thing from a lady who bears the name of a prized virtue."

She blushed at the compliment, squeaking, “Th-Thank You, Sir.”

He briefly sipped from His drink again, then added with a smirk, "I’m quite certain I have done something deserving of such recompense in My long and, one might say, chequered existence. Purity is for the angels, after all, and I am far from that.”

She giggled. “No. You’re no angel, Sir. I can agree on that.” She worried at her lower lip, reaching up to tuck the disobedient lock of hair back once again. “Dark, I’ve got to be a bit blunt. Why did You remember me, Sir?"

He considered her question for a long moment, as He struggled to decipher His own feelings on the matter. For one moment, the silver-tongued demon was at a rare loss for words… but then inspiration came to Him. He had found in Himself part of a strange but beautiful truth.

“There’s nothing so captivating as meeting one’s opposite,” He finally said. “Two selves fuse together to become one whole, as if you are two different sides of the same coin. You are as close to an angel as I will ever find in this world, or any other. My only hope is that I am worthy of your affections.”

Grace's jaw dropped at His words, and she stared at Him in shock for a moment. "Dark, Sir... I... I think that last part is mixed up. I'm the one who should be saying that." Her face turned bright red, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

He chuckled at this, a genuine sound of merriment. “Then we are at an impasse, My dear. If we both feel less than the other, perhaps we should agree that we are equally worthy and unworthy at the same time.”

"Sounds like a good idea, Sir." The heat in her blush wasn't fading, and she let out a tiny cough as the moment between them seemed to draw itself out. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she perked up. "This is gonna sound odd, maybe. But, what do Anti and Meg like for dessert?"

He tilted His head, regarding her curiously, then gave a shrug of His broad shoulders. “Meg has a preference for ice cream, and Anti has a taste for Yorkshire pudding. I rather like them both together. Why do you ask?”

Grace gave a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed at the back of her neck sheepishly. "I just wanted to make the three of you a little something for Christmas. I'm planning to bake a little something, anyway, and I thought it'd be nice for all of you to have a treat for the season too. A gift, you know?"

He smiled slightly, adding in a mild tone, “What do you prefer for a treat?”

She grinned. "Like you, I have a fondness for chocolate."

“That is very thoughtful of you, dearest Grace, to think of the three of us during this time of year.” His gaze met hers again unerringly. “It has little significance for Me, of course, but it is still a special occasion for them.”

He reached across the table, open palm up in a silent entreaty to bridge the gap between them, if Grace so chose. Grace reached over, hand shaking slightly, to grasp His hand in her own much smaller one.

She gave Him a shy smile, and His responding glance was pleased as He grasped her hand gently, enveloping her fingers as if she were made of fine porcelain. Her hand was warmer than His, and He held onto that sensation. When their eyes met, her cheeks pinkened further but she didn’t look away.

“And it is good to be thought of fondly,” He added.

“You’re welcome, Dark. I figured you’d all like a little something… even if human food doesn’t really sustain You.”

“As I said,” and one of His fingers gently brushed against the pulse point of her wrist. Her pulse was racing, but not out of fear, and this pleased Him more than He was likely to admit. “You are very thoughtful.” More on impulse than plan, He reached up with His free hand, tucking the dark strand of her hair that had fallen forward back behind her ear.

She felt a little shiver at the contact, eyes widening in surprise at how intimate such a simple touch felt, before finally registering that He had stopped talking.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Would Meg be alright with some kind of baked treat? I don’t know how well I can make ice cream if this unseasonably warm weather keeps up.”

He smirked a little at this. “Well then, if you wish to have a back-up, Meg also enjoys strawberry shortcake.” But then His moment of humour died. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to spend very much time with you until after the New Year’s celebrations have passed. I hope you are amenable to this.”

“Y-yes, Sir. That’s perfectly alright. Can I pass the gifts through Melissa, so you all get them on Christmas? And, um... maybe give You one early?” That last bit slipped free unbidden, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. Her face was burning once more, and He chuckled gently at the bright pink in her face. 

“An early gift? I must admit, I am intrigued.” He purred, charmed and delighted by her shyness. “What might that be, sweetest Grace?”

She lowered her hand and said softly, throat suddenly dry, “Umm… You’ll need to lean over for it, Dark. I can’t reach You from here… a-and close Your eyes? Please, Sir?”

He shrugged, and decided to humour her.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed her nerves and leaned over the last bit of distance to reach Him. She whispered, “Merry early Christmas, Dark.” 

She kissed His cheek, His skin cool to the touch of her lips. He smiled as He felt her lips brush against the stubble of His beard. When His eyes opened again, there was a hot longing behind the near-black irises. A moment later, she pulled back, fighting a silly grin.

“On second thought, I believe I can arrange for us to have an appointment with a sprig of mistletoe.” He reached up again, this time to lightly brush His fingertips along the soft curve of her jaw. “Would you like to spend a little time with Me on Christmas Day?”

She trembled slightly at the touch. “O-only if I don’t take up too much of Your time, Sir. I… I know You’re busy, and You have Meg and Anti to look after.”

“That I do,” He replied, deep voice a pleasantly soft rumble. “But, if you are willing to put up with them for one day, I suppose we can manage.”

“I don’t mind, Sir. I’d like to get to know them both better. Especially Meg. Anti, I know well enough from Jack’s channel. But Meg’s something of a mystery to me. I hope they won’t mind my presence, though. I’m human, after all.” This last was said with a little smile and a bit of a teasing tone, mischief seeming to glint in her eyes at that moment. 

“They will be on their best behaviour with you. If they are not, they will reap the consequences.” He sighed. “Such is the price of parenting.”

“You have all my empathy, Sir. I’m not a parent, so I can’t relate. But I sympathize.”

Dark chuckled. “But it does seem I have monopolized your attentions this evening, and you no doubt need some rest and quiet before the festivities begin. Perhaps, I could walk you home?”

“I thought You said You’re not an angel, Dark.” She giggled. “You’re such a gentleman.”

“Haven��t you heard, My dear?��� He added with a quiet laugh. “It is often told I’m a humourless ponce with a makeup fetish. Truly, such is the worst of creatures.”

She burst out with a peal of laughter at His self-effacing description. “I-I’ve never heard that one before, Sir.” She then quieted. “But yes, please. I’d like it if You walked me home. Thank You, Sir.” 

He stood, offering His hand to her, an invitation to walk with Him. “Shall we?”

She smiled, sliding her hand into His and standing as well. She was no longer shaking, and she actually grinned up at Him. “We shall.” 

The walk was quiet, the streets darkening with the encroaching night. Constellations danced above their heads, and the kindly moon lit the way where the streetlamps failed. He did not let go of her hand until they reached her doorstep, where He kissed the back of her hand a second time.

“Until Monday, dearest Grace. ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow.’“ There’s the vaguest hint of an echo, but He otherwise held Himself back.

She blushed at the courtly gesture, her voice a near-whisper. “Until Monday, Dark. ‘That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’” There was a brief moment of silent thought, before she added, “Sir, You don’t have to keep holding Your powers back. Especially if it hurts.”

He smirked. “Next time, I won’t. Good night, My Grace.”

“Good night, Dark,” she replied as she slipped into the door of her home.

He waited until she was safely in her dwelling before taking His leave. A creaking like an oak threatening to fall lingered in the empty street as He vanished.

Alone in the comfort of her own home, Grace slid back against the door and sighed. Oh my god, she thought as she slowed her breathing. I survived a date with the Devil. I kissed Him on the cheek, and now I’m going to see Him and His kids for Christmas! She gave a little giggle that verged near hysterics.

Nobody will ever believe this!