#fake date

“You really think that’ll work? Pretending to go on a date with you?” you asked, leaning against the counter at Family Video.

“It better work. Personally, I’m sick of hearing you pine over him. He’s had a thing for you ever since you joined Hellfire but he’s completely clueless when it comes to all the hints you’ve dropped,” Robin chimed in without looking up from the ‘returns’ pile of videotapes she was sorting through.

Clueless didn’t even begin to cut it.

You’d known about Eddie’s crush on you for months now, ever since Dustin slipped up and spilled the beans at lunch one day. The poor kid made you swear on your own life that you wouldn’t tell Eddie you knew.

True to your word, you kept the secret and began dropping hints instead. Eddie couldn’t read the room to save his life.

Any time you caught him staring, he’d break eye contact before you could smile back at him. Any time your hands accidentally touched, he’d move his hand away and play it off if you didn’t keep your hand perfectly still.

“I think it’s perfect,” Steve smiled. “There’s nothing like a bit of jealously to make you realise what you want.”

“I dunno,” you mumbled, chewing your cheek while you weighed up your options.

“When he sees you all dolled up, thinking it’s for me, the dots will connect. Trust me.”

“Fine, I’ll find out when he’s working.”

-

Steve’s plan had been in the back of your mind the whole time you’d been sitting around the table with your fellow Hellfire members. It was a long game of highs and lows all night. Despite the distraction, you’d manage to come out of the battle victorious with a mere five health points left. The party, albeit a little bruised and battered, was one step closer to defeating Myrkul and Eddie was in a good mood.

It took the usual fifteen minutes to pack up Eddie’s maps, dice, tokens, and other various game pieces before you climbed into the passenger side of his van. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie apologised.

“You say that every week and yet you never clean it.”

“I do, it just gets messy again,” he smirked.

You were halfway home when you glanced over at Eddie. His hair was frizzy, sticking up in places from all the near misses in battle where he’d had his hands running through it. The rings on his left hand were glowing gently from the reflection of his lit cigarette as he used it to control the steering wheel. His right hand was methodically fiddling with the busted cassette player that he’d been meaning to fix for months. As always when Eddie was concentrating, his tongue was sticking out and resting against his top lip.

“Got it!” he exclaimed as Rainbow in the Dark started blasting from the speaker, a huge grin spread across his face.

“When are you going to buy a new one?” you chuckled, prodding at the battered box.

“Stop touching it,” he slapped your hand away. “It’ll start crackling again. I’ve picked up some overtime next weekend, I’m hoping the gents will be tipping big to impress their dates.”

“No Valentine’s plan with anyone special then?”

“Nope, just work. Doubt there’s anyone out there who would want to spend their Valentine’s Day with the ‘Freak of Hawkins’ anyway.”

“You’d be surprised, some people like their men a little freaky.”

“What about you? Any plans?” he asked, the change in tone rather subtle.

For a moment, you weren’t sure if you were going to go through with the plan. Steve’s words echoed through your mind listed the pros and cons. ‘Trust me.’

“Yeah, I’ve got a date at Enzo's. At least I don’t have to worry about it going bad now if you’re working, you can come over and scare him off for me.”

“That’s great. Wow, a date. Um, yeah, I’ll fend him off for you if things go pear-shaped. Do I, uh, know the guy?” he stuttered.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” you answered, remembering Robin's claims that a little bit of mystery would be the key to the whole plan working.

“Of course,” Eddie agreed, a sarcastically dumb look plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but notice that this was exactly how he used to act when Dustin mentioned Steve. “Would you look at that? Here we are. Once again, dropped off in one piece, as requested.”

“You okay, Ed?” you ask, one eyebrow raised.

“Yep. Fine. Tired,” he mumbled through an unconvincing yawn. “Long game. I’m gonna go and, uh, get some sleep. Night.”

-

“And he said it exactly like that?” Steve asked.

“Yes, Steve, how many times do I have to go through it? He basically kicked me out of the van,” you answered.

“It’s definitely working.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. Wait until he finds out it’s me, he’s gonna freak.”

“He might not react at all. Believe it or not, he is professional at work.”

“Bet on it?”

“Shut up.”

-

Eddie had been an asshole all week.

Jeff and Gareth got the worst of it. You, however, had been getting the silent treatment. It was Thursday lunchtime when Eddie finally acknowledged you again.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Dustin asked Mike.

“Movies with El then dinner, you?”

“Arcade with Will. What about you, Eddie?”

“Work and band, why?”

“It’s called small talk,” Dustin answered. “What is with you this week?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he snapped.

“Tell your face that, man,” added Jeff.

“Lay off it. Why don’t you ask her what she’s doing this weekend instead and leave me alone?” Eddie prompted, gesturing in your direction. He did not stick around to hear the answer, walking away dramatically.

“Well, what are you doing?” asked Dustin.

“I’ve got a date,” you answered quickly and quietly, sinking into your seat as a sense of guilt began to creep up on you.

“You what?!” asked Gareth.

“I said I’ve got a date.”

“Yeah, I heard you. The fuck do you mean you’ve got a date? With who?”

“Does it matter?” you ask asked.

“Evidently it does. I’ve been taking the brunt of his crap all week and you’re telling me it’s because you’re going on a date?”

“How was I supposed to know he’d react like this?” you quickly try to defend yourself.

“Are you blind?” Jeff asks.

“No, but he is. I’ve dropped hints. Lots of them. If he doesn’t want to acknowledge it then that’s on him.”

-

“Wow,” smiled Steve, looking you up and down. He took your hand, albeit rather dramatically, and began leading you to the car.

“Save it for the restaurant, you dingus. Does this look okay then?” you ask.

“The dress alone might kill him, never mind the heels and hair.”

Ten minutes later, Steve parked up outside Enzo's.

“When we get in there, sit with your back to the bar. You’re about to get the full Harrington charm, okay?” he asked.

“Got it.”

“Hi there, table for two under Harrington,” Steve told the hostess.

“Follow me.”

“Here we are,” the hostess said as she gestured to a small table. “Here are your menus, the waiter will be over to take your order shortly.”

“Thank you,” you replied, taking the seat that Steve had pulled out for you.

“So,” you began.

“So,” Steve replied with a grin.

“I’m not going to lie, Steve, I feel really awkward.”

“I can tell,” he responded. “Relax. We’re just two friends, dressed up, and having a nice meal. Loosen up a little and have fun, or this isn’t going to work.”

You tried to relax, really, you did. But you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Eddie was burning holes into the back of your head with his staring.

“Welcome to Enzo's, my name is Ruben and I’ll be your server this evening. Any drinks to start?”

“Sparkling water for me, and…” Steve prompted.

“Lemonade, please.”

“Awesome, I’ll get that put in at the bar for you. Any starters today?”

“Do you-” Steve began, turning his attention back to you.

“More of a dessert person,” you answer.

“Me too,” smiled Ruben. “What mains would you like?”

“Lasagne for me, please,” answered Steve.

“Chicken Alfredo, please.”

“Awesome. I’ll get all that put in for you, enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, ‘preciate that,” Steve told him before he left the table.

After a couple of minutes of the usual “how was work?” and “how was school?” small talk, Steve’s gaze quickly shot behind you as he sat up a little bit straighter.

“Here’s your lemonade,” Eddie announced, placing the glass down in front of you.

“Thanks, Eddie. How’s your shift?” you asked with a smile.

“So-so. Started going downhill about twenty minutes ago,” he answered.

“Nothing worse than a shitty Friday shift,” Steve chimed in.

“Evening rush,” Eddie responded, unwilling to meet Steve’s gaze. “Everything okay over here?”

“Great, thank you,” you respond.

“Harrington,” Eddie muttered, placing Steve’s water in front of him with a little bit more force than he did the lemonade, before heading back to the bar.

“He won’t even look at me, this is working even better than I thought,” Steve chuckled.

-

One hour and one chicken alfredo later, Ruben returned.

“Well you two are looking cosy over here,” he told you. Steve had been giving you cues on how to sit and when to laugh all evening. “How about that dessert? I highly recommend the ‘brownie and ice cream for two.’ Chef special tonight.”

“Sounds perfect,” answered Steve.

“Alrighty, that’ll be about ten to fifteen minutes. Any more drinks?”

“The same again, please,” you answer.

A couple of minutes later, Steve gave another instruction.

“Rest your left arm on the table.”

“What?”

“Now.”

Steve let out a sudden laugh and adjusted himself in his seat. He placed his arm on the table, his fingertips slightly brushing against your own.

A loud crashing noise from behind you had heads rolling to see what was going on. Every pair of eyes in the restaurant landed on Eddie.

“Sorry folks,” he announced. Eddie quickly began picking up the larger shards of glass whilst another bartender brought over cloths and a broom.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Steve whispered, loud enough for only you to hear.

-

You really were getting the full Harrington charm, as promised. Steve had been feeding you brownie on and off for ten minutes, his glancing over to Eddie quickly now and again.

“It’s almost time,” Steve whispered.

“Time for what?”

“The grand finale.”

Steve leaned in slightly and wiped the side of your mouth gently with his thumb. “Ice cream,” he smirked.

“Is that really necessary?”

“One hundred percent. On my cue, you’re going to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom,” he began.

“But-”

“If this whole fake date has gone to plan, which by the way has been lovely, then I do believe Munson won’t let you make it that far. Go now.”

As instructed, you excused yourself from the table and made your way towards the bathroom. Just as you got to the door you felt a hand close softly around your wrist.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie asked.

“Everything okay?”

“No, actually, it’s not,” he answered. Eddie glanced around before pulling you through a door labelled ‘staff only’.

“Eddie, wha-”

“You can’t date Steve.”

“I can date whoever I like Eddie,” you respond.

“Why him?” he asked, his hand still wrapped lightly around your wrist.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he began, pausing in thought. “Because he’s… he’s got a reputation. Surely you’ve heard all the rumours?”

“And we both know him well enough to know he’s not that person anymore,” you answer, your gaze locking with Eddie’s who, surprisingly, held it.

“You just can’t, please,” he pleaded.

“Give me a good enough reason as to why I shouldn’t go back out there and I won’t.”

Eddie stayed silent for a few moments, his big, brown eyes locked on yours. The small staff room became stuffy all of a sudden, the air so thick it felt like you could barely breathe. You held your ground, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t. You stared back at Eddie, your eyes pleading with him to just say something. Anything.

You broke your gaze from Eddie’s and turned towards the door, ready to give up and go home. Eddie’s grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you back towards him, using his free hand to cup your face as his lips met yours.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, Eddie kissing you, but it felt like forever. The tension in the air vanished, leaving you with a cozy feeling deep in your stomach, where the butterflies used to live. 

“You can do better than him. You deserve better than him. You deserve someone who knows that you take extra sugar in your coffee when you’re studying. Someone who knows that you’re a completely evil genius in the best way possible when it comes to D&D. Someone who knows you’d rather be in bed with a book at-” he glanced at his watch, “nine o’clock at night. Someone who apparently isn’t very good at making the first move.”

“You’re clueless, you know that?”

“I am?”

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

If it wasn’t for Ruben who knows how long you would have stood there, entwined together, lost in the moment.

“Hey man, you heading home?” Eddie asked casually, placing a little distance between the two of you.

"What?" Chloe asked rather innocently. Beca's response was to simply look her up and down before giving Chloe a sympathetic look. "You're dressed casually," Chloe pointed out. Beca was wearing a chic grey sweater, the materials it was made from and the tag on in probably cost more than Chloe's whole ensemble. In her arms, neatly folded, hung a cream-colored blazer that paired well with her cream-colored pants. Chloe wasn't sure what they were made off but they both looked sleek, stylish, and comfortable. The shoes Chloe already knew were expensive. It was a brand she didn't know off, but the insignia had caught her attention – Loro Piana – and it was enough to prompt Chloe to look it up before. Beca kept the make-up and accessories simple, with her hair styled back. This was casual for Beca. Not undercover, regular street clothes casual. But her own personal level of casual, one that screamed affluence over anything else.

Chloe on the other hand was wearing her favorite black suite and skirt ensemble that she wore to court a few times now. "I look good in this," Chloe insisted.

"I know, but… Look, Chloe. We're replacing a man and a woman, one of whom had the audacity to book the entire gallery for a private affair for two, I think it's safe to assume it's a date. And if one of them is rich enough to make private art gallery dates a thing…" Beca started to explain.

"This really won't pass?" Chloe asked.

Beca looked at her wristwatch. "We still have time, and I know just the place, come on."

"Just the place for what?" Chloe had asked. But Beca didn't answer.

Instead, they found themselves in Beca's car, with Beca driving silently to some chic, invitation only type of boutique Chloe didn't even know existed. Beca had a light smile on her lips, looking a little proud of herself. When they got there, she had explained that she called ahead of time – so she already planned this from the start, Chloe thought to herself – before Chloe found herself whisked off into a dressing room to try out a few pre-selected outfits for her.

Chloe tried very hard not to chuckle, every time she had to march out and gauge Beca's reaction, "modelling" the outfits she had picked out for her.

Beca was fairly easy to read in that instance. Chloe knew she wasn't convinced every time she pressed her lips together and quirked an eyebrow, and so Chloe would march back and try the next one. Meanwhile Beca was busy looking at whatever was in the black velvety boxes brought out to her by the shop's attendants.

When Chloe stepped out with the third to the last of her pre-selected outfits on – a she knew she had found a lovely black dress with a black blazer that hugged around her figure just right – she knew she found the winner. Beca looked speechless for a minute before she motioned for one of the sales attendants to come back with a big black velvet box. Beca gingerly picked up the necklace inside. The chains were made of gold and attached to the intricate design of the pendant. Beca walked up behind Chloe and placed the necklace around her neck, careful not to touch Chloe directly. Chloe could pick up the scent of Beca's perfume, a delicate mix of floral scents. There was a softness to it that Chloe paired with the elegant yet soft casual style that Beca had for the night. Chloe couldn't help herself blush a little. It almost felt like this fake date was real.

A part of her wished it was.

Beca hummed her approval as soon as she clasped it close, proud of her own choices. The sales attendant walked up to Beca, the box still open. That's how Chloe saw the pair of earrings that matched the pendant of the necklace. Chloe's fingers briefly brushed against Beca's own as she reached for one of the earrings inside the box, sending electricity from where they momentarily touched racing through her veins, down her pulse, throughout her own being.

"Are you sure about this?" Chloe asked with a gulp, trying to squash the butterflies that were starting to wake in stir inside of her. "You're spending quite a lot for one 'date.' This might be too much."

Beca shook her head. "Not at all," she replied before looking away. She watched as Chloe put the earrings on herself. "They were made you," Beca then said rather awkwardly, turning around and walking on away before urging Chloe to follow her out.

This was bad, they have a mission to complete, but Chloe couldn't help but notice how they were both acting like teenagers

Still, a part of Chloe's mind was indulging in maybes and fantasies. Of how things would have been if she had met Beca in a different circumstance.