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The restaurant wasn't one of the fancier places in Destiny City, but it wasn't a diner or fast-food joint either. You didn't have to dress up for it, in other words. But Emory had still dressed up a little bit, wearing a white button-up shirt tucked into a nice pair of jeans held up with a belt. Nothing too dressy, but enough to show that he wasn't a complete slob. Enough to show he wasn't a typical guy who wore t-shirts and shorts and flipflops alongside his date's little black dress and heels. Enough to show he had at least a little class. His sister Bethany had teased him unmercifully and his mom had just patted him on the shoulder and told him to have a good time. And that was just what he intended to do.

He hadn't presumed to order dinner or drinks for both of them, not wanting to seem too pushy. Besides, he wasn't exactly sure how old Desdemona was and he didn't want to run the risk of inadvertently buying alcohol for someone too young to drink yet. He did, however, take her menu and hand it back to the waiter along with his now that they were done with them. That was just polite behavior, nothing presumptuous about it at all.

And girls thought guys had it easy on dates.

Emory smiled across the table at his date for the evening and relaxed. He couldn't help but smile at her -- she was so pretty and cute. "I hope you like this place, Desdemona. It's one of my favorites. I love the atmosphere and the food's great."

Emory thought of himself as Chrysotile, even powered down, but not because of any lapses or holes in his civilian life. He was sworn to the Negaverse, and that superseded everything. To him, Emory was the costume now, and Chrysotile the reality, despite never losing his sense of self or his memories after his corruption at the hands of his father. Even now, seated across from the girl who called herself Desdemona, he still thought of the two of them as Chrysotile and Amphitrite. He had to be mindful not to call her by her "real" name here in public.

Which would be easy. She was the complete focus of his attention; he only had eyes for her. He wouldn't have to use either name for her at all.

He returned the playful leg-bump with a gentle nudge of his own toe. "Well, the atmosphere can't help but be improved by someone as lovely as you," he replied, his own eyes twinkling as he looked at her. He really liked this girl. A lot. He figured she liked him too -- clearly, since she had all but asked him out -- but he couldn't be sure how much. He only hoped he didn't somehow blow it.

Emory gave a soft chuckle too, lowering his eyes as he felt his face redden slightly. Only she seemed to have the power to do that to him. She thought he was cute! And dashingly tall and handsome. That was surely a good sign.

But if there was one thing he loved to do, it was talk about himself. "Well," he began, leaning forward, hands clasped on the table, "I go to DCU, just about to start my third year in college. I'm studying social work, but that's really just as a fallback to what I really do, play basketball for the university team. I play forward -- that's the position up front who scores all the goals. I've played basketball since I was a little kid back in Chicago. Pretty good at it too," he added with with a self-satisfied quirk of the corner of his mouth. "It's kinda taken a back seat lately to, you know, patrolling and stuff. But it's still the big love of my life."

Realizing he may have just put his foot in it, he quickly backpedalled. "There are other things that could compete with basketball, though," he purred smoothly, then changed the subject. "What about Desdemona, international woman of mystery? I'd love to know more about you."

Emory beamed at her and his eyes lit up, as they always did when basketball was involved. "The season doesn't start til November, but we start having open practices as soon as September. Some of us, like me, continue having practices throughout the summer to keep our skills sharp -- Coach doesn't like people watching those, but I don't care. You're more than welcome to come watch me play." His blue eyes met hers. "You can be my very own cheering section." He liked that idea a lot.

The topic changed to her -- one of his favorite topics apart from himself -- and he watched her blush as she spoke. She seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable talking about herself. He couldn't figure out why, she seemed like such a vibrant, confident young woman. Had he touched a nerve somehow? That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I definitely think it shows," he smiled warmly. Instinctively he reached out a hand, squeezing her wrist gently. "You're so confident and alert on patrol -- I don't see how any of those Order creeps stands a chance against you. And you have energy gathering down cold. You got some smooth moves." He gave a soft laugh. "Maybe I can pick up some pointers from you."

"Shiny new tricks, huh? I'd really like to see those. I haven't been able to pick up many new techniques since I moved here." Emory didn't say that the reason he hadn't picked up any new techniques was because he was too proud of his Chicago roots and maybe thought a little less of Destiny City's Negaverse contingent, something he would never admit to and perhaps didn't even consciously realize. "But I'm always open to learning. Especially from someone as talented as you are."

The waiter arriving with their drinks interrupted the conversation. "Thank you." Emory smiled at Desdemona and raised his glass slightly in a salute to her before taking a sip. He couldn't help but smile at her; she was so pretty and so clever and such a good Negaverse agent. It briefly occurred to him that there might be lapses in her memories, and that was the reason she had steered the topic away from herself so deftly. The words spoken to him in warning in the warehouse back around New Years Day drifted through his mind -- those who are powered who corrupt lose their past. He wondered who she had been before; she had seemed so familiar to him when they first met.

Not that any of that really mattered now. She was who she was here and now, and if she had memory lapses, so what? This was the perfect opportunity for her to build a new life, create new memories. And he sincerely hoped he'd be part of those new memories.

He decided to switch the topic back to basketball, just in case there were any prying Order ears listening. "So, basketball," he nodded, setting his glass down and folding his arms on the table. "Have you ever seen a basketball game? The idea is to get the ball through the other guys' hoop as many times as you can while keeping them from doing the same thing to you. Pretty simple, right? Each goal counts as two points, so like in the pros you'll see scores in the hundreds of points. College basketball games don't score as high, but I like watching college games better because they're faster moving and played harder. Better competition."

"I bet you could," he replied, returning the wicked smile. Her words and the promise in her voice sent a thrill of excitement through Emory. It was more than just the prospect of learning new ways of harvesting energy, it was everything else about her. She was vibrant and exciting and he found her irresistible; she could show him something as simple as how to walk and he'd be captivated by her. He hoped the promise in her teasing words led to more than just a professional relationship.

With a laugh, he set down his glass and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Good, I'm glad you know the basics of the game! You'd be surprised how many don't." So she really had lost her memories when she'd been brought over to the side of Chaos. That was a sobering thought, though he didn't let it show, maintaining his smile so it didn't come across like he pitied her. Whatever and whoever she was before she became Desdemona and the Amphitrite he knew were gone. He wondered if it worked the same way when someone from the Negaverse was purified, a process he had only heard about recently. It seemed incomprehensible to him, the idea of purification. Weren't you made better when you corrupted?

But back to the subject of basketball. He'd think about that other stuff later.

"That's the heart of the game -- passion. It's hard to put into words, you really have to experience it firsthand, either by playing or watching someone play." He squeezed her hand again. "I'm so excited for you to come watch me play. I think you'll like it." He really hoped she did, too.

Emory felt his face flush a little as her lips brushed his fingers. The questions he had about what she'd been through could wait for another time, perhaps when they were powered up (in their "true" form, as he viewed it) and patrolling together again. This was neither the time nor the place for such a conversation.

"One-on-one would be a great introduction to the game," he purred in response. He imagined she'd be pretty good at it once she learned the ropes. "It'd give you up close and personal exposure to the passion of the game. And I promise, I won't take it easy on you." Returning her wicked little smile, he followed it with a slight chuckle. "No easier than I would anyone else just starting out at basketball."

Their meals finally came -- he'd all but forgotten about dinner, ostensibly the reason they were there in the first place -- so he disentangled his hand from hers and sat back. "You're gonna love the food here," he assured her with a confident smile.

That bit lip and pout got to Emory more than just about anything else Desdemona had said or done. He allowed a playful grin in return. She absolutely was a passionate girl -- she had more than demonstrated that on their patrol, how passionate she was about the Negaverse and sticking it to those Order jerks. The suggestion was indeed better than the implicit, as far as he was concerned. He hoped he would get to know other aspects of her passion before long, and demonstrate some of his.

He stuck a fork into his dinner and tasted it. "Mmm," he murred around a mouthful. "This is really good. I haven't tried this dish before. Think this is going on my top ten list." With a smile he watched her enjoy her dinner. "The company is indeed better, I agree," he added. "Maybe I'll add you to my top ten list as well."