A/N: A requested one-shot, with Gilen going on a blind date... I hope it's okay!
What was going on? It was dark... I could barely recall how I had gotten here... Oh yeah. I think Peter knocked me out with some kind of damp cloth over my mouth... But where am I?
I ripped the blindfold off and looked around, noting the fancy restaurant table in front of me and the red leather seats. The lighting was dim, with fake chandeliers hanging from the black ceiling. Orchestral music was coming from somewhere. I looked down and saw that I was in a black tuxedo, with a silk bowtie and black shoes. My hair seemed to be tied up.
What the heck?
I sighed and moved to stand up, but suddenly felt something grabbing my ankle. I held in a scream and looked down quickly, to see- who else?- Peter.
"Gilen. Sit. Down." he said between gritted teeth. "This was very difficult for me to arrange, and you will STAY and ENJOY YOURSELF."
I gulped and sat, wondering what I was doing here.
"What am I doing here?" I whispered, glancing down at the blonde-haired boy under the table.
"A blind date."
I sighed and rubbed my temple. Why did this have to happen to me? Ever since I had agreed to that weird contract with Peter more than a year ago, I had had to do this kind of thing over and over again...
"Oh, here he comes!" Peter said excitedly, whipping out his notebook and somehow fading into the shadows of the table.
A... someone... approached me, gnawing on a cigarette that had gone out ages ago. She was wearing a small red dress, with her short reddish-brown hair pulled back by a purple headband. She sat down and spit out the cigarette butt, glaring at me. "You're Prussia? Gilen Beilschmidt, так?"
"Uh... ja..."
"I'm Ukraine. Call me Marina. Nice to meet you. Where's our food?" she demanded, resting her head on her hand and sighing irritably.
".... We have to order it first..."
She huffed, her eyes, heavy with makeup, narrowing. "Okay, smart-aleck. Let's order, then."
I was so confused.
"Um, okay... I'll just wave down that waiter, then..."
The waiter walked over and bowed, asking us what we'd like. Marina growled out "whatever"; I ordered the salmon plate.
As we ate, Marina picked at her pasta that they had given her, grumbling about how she had wanted something more appetizing.
"... maybe you should've ordered for yourself then, instead of saying 'whatever'."
She glared at me. "You say something?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "No."
Peter appeared, his face between my feet. "Be nicer." he whispered, then disappeared once more. I bit my lip. How was I supposed to do that? With her?
"So, um... What do you like to do? Any hobbies?"
"Accusing the innocent of stealing from me to get more money."
Okay. Wow. How... delightful.
"Um, so... how was your day?"
"Terrible. Stop trying to make idle conversation."
"I'm just trying--"
Suddenly, a crash echoed through the restaurant, and I looked up, slightly startled.
Matt appeared, definitely not dressed for a formal occasion, running with a hockey stick in his hand to our table. "I have come to save my prince in distress!"
I tried to hold back the half-smile that threatened to appear. Finally, someone I could actually tolerate. "What do you want from me?" I asked, keeping in character despite the relief flooding my veins.
"I'm here to take you home!" he proclaimed, picking me up bridal-style and running back out through the kitchens, where it was complete chaos. I noticed a hole in the window and knew that was where he had jumped in from. We used the door this time, with Marina yelling behind us.
"I'm not paying the check!"
We emerged from the back of the restaurant, to see Al waiting for us in his red convertible. Matt hopped in, me still in his arms, and we drove off faster than was legal anywhere, leaving behind a pissed-off Marina and a Peter scribbling rapidly in his notebook.
