Dreams and Nightmares

He waited on the couch for her, swirling the water in his cup. Yetta was still getting dressed, figuring out her outfit. The heels were, of course, optional. He had them made partially as a joke, meant more as a weapon than anything to really wear. The heel came down in a sharp spike, with holes leading up to it for the fingers. He didn't know anybody who could walk like that, much less dance. 

The hairpin could also be used for stabbing, he supposed. It wouldn't be as effective, meant more for beauty. The simple wooden spike, the tip shaped like branches holding a flower, would stand out against her fiery hair. Crow thought he'd picked well, if you asked him.

The moment of truth came when the door opened, and Yetta stepped out, balancing perfectly on the sharp heels, brushing off her dark red dress. The ruffles leading up to her side exposed her thigh, which had a strap around it. The metallic glint of a knife shone as she stepped over, Yetta pinning her hair back with the pin. "Exactly how much was this dress?" she asked, spinning for him. His mouth dropped, standing up to take her hands in his.

"Don't worry about that," he managed. "I made sure it was covered." He looked at her, from head to toe, stepping back. "I- you didn't- you didn't have to wear the heels, not those, at least." He gestured to what she had on now. 

"Wasn't quite vibing with the other pair." She shrugged. "These are good practice."

"We're dancing tonight," he pointed out. She patted his chest.

"Then you can keep me upright. I trust you." She smiled, taking his hand. "Now, I think we have a date to keep?"

. . .

Dinner was first. Crow pulled her seat out for her, brushing his knuckles against the back of her neck as she sat. She hummed, painted lips splitting into a smile. Yetta watched him cross over to the other side, sitting down as well. Crow had picked a classy joint, soft music, sung in French, playing through the speakers. 

He had ordered a soft wine, assuring her that getting drunk wasn't the intention. She raised her glass to him, winking softly in response. The lights were, in a sense, loud, with how bright they were. It was a little blinding, but they surrounded Crow like a halo. 

When the food came, she stretched her hand across the table. "We meant to fix things?" she asked, palm outstretched. He took her hand.

"We did," he confirmed. "Let's start here." He took the small metal crow out of his pocket, placing it on the table. "Did you make this?"

She laughed softly. "Yeah. I'm toying with metal right now. I figured once I get good with sculpting, I can make stylized grenades and bombs," Yetta admitted. She took a bite, humming softly as her eyes closed. It was heavenly. 

Crow raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. "My next question is, why did you make it for me?"

Yetta hesitated, fork hovering in the air. She sat back. "It's been waiting for you for a while, actually. Since before you-"

"Before we broke up."

"Yeah." Her head started throbbing, and her eyes felt heavy. She sighed softly, putting her head in her hands. "Not that I had any room to complain or argue about it," she added. "It was your choice."

"It still hurt you."

"Well, not like, end of the world, hurt." She shrugged. "More like, it hurt in that sort of way that you feel when your expectations aren't met." The words from the music blurred in and out, and she fought to stay focused on the conversation at hand. "That's why I was so mad about the other night."

"That wasn't my best move," he admitted, oblivious to his date's struggle. "Zavala had warned me about playing favorites. Personal attachments in my own department. That sort of thing. And I took it as I needed to leave you. I didn't want to, believe me. I didn't. But I wanted to be professional."

She chuckled, ignoring the tremors in her hands. Yetta set down her glass, and folded her hands in her lap. Words weren't coming to her, so she nodded for him to continue. He didn't, finally taking notice. "Yetts, are you ok?" he asked, reaching out for her. 

"I don't- I don't kn-know-," she slurred, the world starting to darken, while staying blinding at the same time. She felt her head start to fall, hearing the clattering of dishes and Crow's panicked shout. 

. . .

Cold snow was under her, shocking her awake. She opened her eyes, rolling to her side and vomiting. Looking around, she could see the barren landscape of Europa, groaning softly. She reached behind her, looking for a gun or some kind of weapon to defend herself with, before feeling her hand smack a warm shoulder. 

Yetta looked over in confusion, her touch softening. Crow lay beside her, eyes closed. He was still breathing. Good. They were still in their clothes from the date. Not so good. She didn't have her gun on her, and neither of them had brought their ghosts along, because they didn't think they needed them. 

Glint and Jason were still at Ms. Noble's, the elderly woman probably telling them story after story. With a rough shake, she woke Crow up. "Get up, we have to move," she ordered. Cold was starting to set into her skin, as she woke up more and more. 

Crow groaned, shivering. His thin coat didn't do much against the bitter chill of Europa. Yetta was already standing up, drawing her knife from her thigh. "Where are we?" he asked, looking around. "How did we-?"

"We're on Europa, specifically, the bad time-line. So. Here's what I'm aware of so far. We don't have our ghosts, somehow *you* ended up here with me, and if we're lucky, Corrupted Carman isn't here. Most likely, we're unlucky. Hope you brought a knife." She shook, both in fear and from the biting cold. "I'd say let's get inside somewhere, but no matter where we go on this planet, it'll be freezing. So let's not become icicles and figure out how to get my warp shit back in gear."

Crow peeled his coat back, revealing the side arm tucked into his belt. "We're hunters, do you really think I'd go out without some sort of weapon?"

"Hot."