Disaster Recovery

Afternoon sunlight drifted through the cafe’s windows, settling upon the hardwood floors in languid pools. They stretched toward the soft shadows beneath chairs and tables, but didn’t bother to intertwine with them just yet, content to warm the floor they rested in.

Sable had arrived about 15 minutes early, deciding that would hopefully be not too early, but not too late. She’d ordered a mocha and a plate of small cookies— the latter of which she hadn’t touched yet, intending to share them with her date.

Her date.

Demons, Sable was hating this more by the second— when she’d told Hollis she wished she could meet people, this… isn’t what she met. Who even did blind dating anymore? People were using things like Bunble or whatever these days, right?

A scratching sound from the floor caught her ear, and she looked down to see Churro pawing at the floor close to her feet. Her service imp wiggled his round body when he noticed he had her attention, and pressed his side against her leg. The warmth of his little body was a reminder, gentle and certain— everything’s gonna be okay.

“I know buddy,” Sable whispered to him, hoping it wasn’t a lie. Her stomach was churning, acidic enough to burn. Sable took a few measured breaths, hands cradling her coffee. At her feet, Churro settled back down alongside her heartrate, though both remained alert.

Sable chewed her lower lip, and glanced at the doors. When would her date get here?

Eventually the cheery door chime signals the entrance of another patron, indifferent entirely to the disparity of her disposition. As if rudely summoned the broad shouldered bun pushes past the cafe doors and stands a moment. Her scowl, grand horns and studs immediately fighting for space amid the pastels of this otherwise soft interior. As always, Burrowgatory's locals extend a measure of indifference to her arrival, save for a couple looks-- but those are on her for standing in the doorway grimacing and glaring over the tables. 

After a bit more glowering her eyes catch on Sable, linger, and shift from open hostility to something more like amusement. Her brow quirks and she shoulders her way over. 

"You're Sable...?" 

Her voice lowers to affect a playful conspiracy. 

"You match-- though the notes I have are kinda shit."

Sable looked up from her coffee when the doorbell chimed, and had to stare at the newcomer. She looked like she belonged more in a biker bar than a local coffee shop— all leather and ripped jeans, matching the contours of her scowl. She reminded Sable of Jackal in a lot of ways— but somehow more intimidating, no soft center to the spiky exterior that Sable could see. She was hot, too, another similarity between her and Jackal; muscular in a lithe sort of way, like the jungle cats she’d read about, wandering the surface world.

Her heart skipped a beat, hand coming down to grip Churro’s harness. Please don’t be my date please don’t be my date—

Heavy boots thudded against the floor as she came over, and Sable’s stomach sank. “Yeah, um, yes! That would be me,” she stammered out, swallowing. Notes?? Why did she get notes but Sable didn’t—

The email probably went to Hollis. Because of course it would.

Sable cleared her throat, and crossed her legs, fiddling with the hem of her lacy dress. “Um, I’m— afraid I didn’t get the email, must’ve gone into my spam,” she lied. Her voice was wispy, unraveling so close to Sable’s lips that she worried she wouldn’t be heard. “What’s your name..?”

"Rowan? It was a text." 

Rowan dragged a seat out from under the table and dropped in it, head turned to get a quick layout of the place before returning to her  date. 

The other bun was cute. Pink, soft, dressed in a way Rowan never would herself but didn't mind looking at. 

The second thing she noticed was the fear. Girl looked like a deer in headlights. 

"Am I scaring you?" 

Rowan shook a lock of choppy hair out of her face, sat back and waited for an answer.

“Nope, no- not at all,” Sable said, all but tripping over her words. It was technically a lie because demons the bun— Rowan was intimidating, but also everyone she met made her heart try to escape her chest unless she could practice enough first. Which she couldn’t. Because Hollis hadn’t forwarded her the text, which apparently was a text and she should’ve known that because who uses email these days—

Sable took a breath, and loosened her death grip on Churro’s harness when he let out a soft whine. “Sorry, I just- have a medical condition,” she explained weakly. “It’s why this little man’s next to me.”

"That makes you scared?..."

Rowan caught herself asking before she thought to stop. You know, because maybe that wasn't the best way to start a date. The other bun- Sable apparently, seemed nice enough. 

"You- don't have to answer that," she added, her voice heavy in comparison even as she corrected herself. 

"Who's the little guy?" 

Maybe that was better. It had been forever since she'd been out on a date. The next time she saw Percilla she was going to kill her.

Sable swallowed, staring at her coffee. That made you scared. She knew she was weird, but her eyes burned at having it thrown in her face. She ignored it, clearing her throat again. 

She smiled at Churro, who pressed against her leg comfortingly. “This is Churro, he’s my sweet little guy,” Sable said, and Churro did some happy wiggles at the sound of his name, nearly tumbling away from her leg. She let out a huff of amusement that barely eased the tightness in her ribcage, and lifted her gaze back to Rowan. Was this enough eye contact? She hoped so.

It took everything Rowan had not to reach across the table and-- what would she do? She didn't know.

Good work,  you've blown it.

The least she could do was make it up to her, but how even? Nobody will mess with you while I'm here? That was dumb. 

"Pun not intended?" 

At least the Pampki seemed to be having a good time. 

Sable looked up from her coffee and for a moment she looked so small Rowan felt herself freeze.  

Percilla had said she should date nicer people. That probably meant not being like this in return. 

"Hey, uh...do you want to start over? You're cute. You seem nice. I just say things."

There was a pause. 

"I'm sorry, I mean." 

She needed a drink.

Sable blinked once, then again, and by the time she understood the pun Rowan was referring to, she’d already switched tracks.

“I’m…” Sable trailed off, fiddling with her coffee cup as she considered her words. Her therapist told her to step up for herself more, but— this didn’t seem to be the time. Rowan had apologized, and… honestly, she wanted to start over too. Maybe salvage something from this.

“Thank you,” Sable said with a small, warm smile. “For the apology, I mean, it’s— it means a lot.”

After a beat of awkward silence, she pressed the plate of cookies closer to the center of their table. “I, um, ordered these cookies for us to share? I just ordered their sampler since I didn’t know if you had any allergies…”

'Oh my god she ordered cookies.' 

Was all Rowan was really thinking of for a beat. Sable'd accepted her apology. She'd smiled. She'd gotten a cookie sampler. She was some kind of pink saint. Rowan felt a pang of guilt reaching for one, but she wouldn't say no to free cookies. 

Except-- as if suddenly remembering something, she stopped herself. 

"Which...kind do you like?"

Sable tucked an errant coil of pink behind her veil, and shrugged. “I mostly just like sweet things, honestly,” she said, a little amused. “Though I have a soft spot for the caramel chocolate ones.”

"Well you're welcome to 'em."

Rowan grinned and plucked a distinctly unchocolate cookie from the plate, somehow managing to fit the whole thing in her mouth at once. It wasn't hard-- they were small. Her eyes closed happily as the sugar hit. It wasn't a drink but it'd do. 

"Yea. Yea same. Sweet tooth." 

With a quick, fanged grin she added-- "You're next if we run out of cookies."

Sable let out an amused breath through her nose, and took a cookie for herself as well, nibbling on it happily.

Well, until Rowan said— said that, and Sable choked on it. She coughed into her arm, face burning. “You- I- what??” she squeaked.

"You're sweet, is all."

Rowan grinned watching Sable squirm and took  another bite out of a cookie. It was true.

"Cute too— you alright?"

She hadn't meant to murder Sable but if this was all it took, then the rest of the date would be fine.  Her voice took on a playful tone, eyes not unlike a furrdin about to play with her food. 

"Wanna get out of here once we're done eating? I'd love to walk you around."

Maybe she could make it up to her after all.

Sable’s face was on fire now, she was sure of it.

What was happening?? Was she being flirted at???? This wasn’t part of the plan, flirting doesn’t usually start until the second date—

“I’m, um, I’m fine, thank you,” she managed after a long sip of coffee. She crossed, then re-crossed her legs, fidgeting under that heavy stare. “That sounds, um— really nice, yes!” she said before her brain could catch up.

Rowan popped another cookie into her mouth and enjoyed the show. Sweet demons she was cute.

It didn't take long before the two of them finished. Rowan tried not to seem impatient. The cafe was nice enough, but she longed to move. It was a great day for walking around town with a cute bun on her arm. Maybe we can grab drinks later.

Rowan stretched once she'd escaped her chair and sighed gratefully. Looked towards her date with an impish grin. 

"Ready?"

Sable had to smile at the look on Rowan’s face, and stood as well, dusting off her sheer lace dress. “Ready,” she said, grabbing her purse. This would be okay, she wouldn’t look too strange walking next to Rowan. This would go well. She let out a breath, and smiled up at her— only then processing that she had to look up to make eye contact with her now that they were standing. Demons help her.

“Lead the way!”