Speed Dating

"I'm non-binary, I own ten cats, and my favourite pastime is making fossils of mythical creatures out of animal bones."

Jace stared at the person before him, unsure how to respond. He was beginning to regret letting his sister coerce him into coming. He shifted slightly in his booth, straightening his cuffs and tie. "Uh...."

The person across from him (they hadn't given a name) pushed a curl of their luxurious, lime hair out of their eyes. One side of their head, Jace now perceived, was shaved short, so close to the skin that he could see the markings of a tattoo beneath.

"Oh God," Jace thought to himself. "Why did I come here? No one here is even my type. ...Do I even have a type?"

The green haired person (with bright pink, round glasses that magnified their eyes) leaned closer. There was something to their expression, to the twist of the mouth, that said, "Your turn!"

"I'm Jace...," Jace started. What had Mallory said? Say something interesting, get it all out in the open? Jace hesitated, scrambling desperately for something to say. He wasn't very interesting. He was usually much cooler than this, but he wasn't very interesting. There was something about this green haired, brown eyed individual before him that set him distinctly off his stride.

"I'm Jace," he tried again. He pointed to the woman standing in the middle of the ring of booths. Mallory.

"Remember, you have five minutes, so make the most of it," Mallory called. "Learn as much as you can about each other!"

"My sister is the one running this thing," Jace continued. "Mallory. She made me come here because I haven't dated anyone in a while."

That was a lie. Jace had NEVER dated anyone before.

"This is my first time coming to something like this, I'm a chauffeur for a limousine company, and clearly the only one here in a three piece suit!"

Clearly the only one here with any fashion sense, he would have normally said. But there was something in the deep, pooling eyes of the person across from him that stopped him.

"I'm not very interesting," he concluded. "Anyways, what's-"

He was going to ask for their name, but the individual interrupted.

"Chauffeur, huh? What sort of people do you drive around?"

"Well, I, uh...." Jace flushed, adjusted his tie again and sat up proudly. "I actually work for a private firm. I'm not supposed to disclose any more information than that."

"Oh no, of course." They were on their elbows now, head propped up on hands and head tilted to the side. The wide, almost watery eyes stared at Jace inquiringly. "You could never disclose that you work for Bruce Wayne."

Caught off guard, Jace huffed out a laugh. "No I don't... I don't work for Bruce Wayne." He wished he did. It had been his dream growing up to be the next Robin. He had believed he could, and had prepared for it, taking martial arts classes and robotics and anything else that could help a powerless side kick. Then Mallory had gone and told him that Bruce Wayne was nothing but a comic book character, and that there was no real Batman. It had broken his heart in a way that was lingering.

The individual across from him was still gazing at him, watching the thoughts pass across his face. He was normally so good at keeping his face impassive. They had, if anything, closed the distance even more and Jace could see the sprinkle of freckles flung across their face and shoulders. He swallowed.

"I used to want to work for Bruce Wayne," he blurted out. It came unexpectedly, and he flushed again at the breathy sound of his voice. God damn this person and their unnerving attitude!

The person across from him arched an eyebrow. "Go on," it said.

Jace flicked his gaze down to his hands, clasped professionally before him on the table. "I'd actually trained for it. Tai Chi, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, plus a lot of robotics and programming courses. A little orienteering. Then Mallory spoiled it for me, so." He spread his hands expansively, capturing in that movement both regret and acceptance at his current situation.

"Damn," the person across from him said. "That's... really impressive actually. My only dream growing up was to be a mermaid."

Despite himself, Jace laughed. "Well, I'd say you managed to capture the essence of one."

The person across from him smiled. It was a smile unlike that Jace had ever seen. Wide and open, a few crooked teeth but that added to the lopsided beauty. There were dimples on the person's cheeks and Jace found himself blushing again. "Did I really just call them a mermaid?"

"Two minutes left!" Mallory hollered. "Two minutes everyone before you change partners!"

Two minutes? Jace could hardly believe how much time had already passed. His first few partners had been a slog.

"So," he pressed on hurriedly. "So. You build fossils?"

"Yeah! I have a little chicken coop in my backyard, plus a few pigs and lots of sheep. When they die, I use the bones to make different sculptures. Want to see?"

"Sure."

The individual fumbled through their navy handbag. It was shaped, Jace noticed, like a cat.

"Damn! I forgot my phone. Do you have yours?"

"Yeah," Jace said. "One sec."

He was momentarily distracted by the graceful motion of the individual. A strap of their tanktop had fallen during their search, and the individual loosened the shawl around their shoulders in order to put it back. There was another tattoo on that shoulder, which had been hidden by the gauze of the wrap. The individual looked up and caught Jace staring. A smile tugged once more at their lips. "Phone," they mouthed.

Jace flushed again. This was so unlike him. He never stared at people. In the business he had seen many crazy outfits, some of which were more skin than clothes. So why was he so put off?

"What the deuce, Jace?" he muttered to himself. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and passed it over. Like so much about Jace it was sleek and slim. The individual took it, and Jace couldn't help but admire the difference of their skin, how much darker his was than theirs.

"Um," he fumbled. "What are your tattoos?"

"Oh." The individual continued typing into Jace's phone, but turned their head so he could make out the picture printed there. It was a patch of scales, encompassing the whole side of their head.

"Like a mermaid," he said.

The individual across from him laughed. "Yeah, exactly! And this one...." they removed the shawl, "this one is my first creation."

Jace leaned closer. It was a small tattoo, the size of a child's fist. He could just make out delicate rib bones, a feline skull, and four pairs of wings arching down the spine.

"Cool," he said.

"Yeah."

They were still typing. Jace looked at Mallory, who was looking at her watch. He was almost out of time.

"Hey." Jace leaned across the table. "You never told me your name-"

"Time's up!"

"No!" Jace thought. There was still so much he wanted to ask. Where this person lived, what their cats' names were, what this person's name was, if they could see each other again....

"Here's your phone."

The individual stood up, readjusting their shawl.

"I gave you my contact. So give me a text later, and I'll send you my sculptures, 'kay?"

Jace stared for a moment, dumbstruck.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah. Yes. I would like that."

"Cool." The individual smiled at him. Their freckles crinkled before that smile, the dimples deep. Cute. They held out a hand. Jace took it.

"You'll text me?"

"Yes."

"We could meet up somewhere."

"I'd like that."

"Alright!" Mallory called. "Swiii-iitch places!"

The individual squeezed Jace's hand one last time before moving to the next booth. They left behind them a scent, lingering, of salt water and flowers.

"Mermaid," Jace thought. He smiled, and looked down at his phone.

There was a number there. And, more importantly, a name.

Nix.