“So you guys really don’t do dates, like at all?” Fletcher asked as he and Beam walked down the street towards the central city, a mile or so from their offices. Knarf trailed them at an appropriate distance since Fletcher had made sure to explain to the [Ogre] what a date was and the importance of privacy during it.

  “Not like this. We go to dinner, but that typically happens later, once the relationship is sure. It seems strange to be a couple in public before you’re even sure you want to be a couple to begin with,” Beam mused. “We Unhumans prefer to keep things more subtle in the beginning.”

  “Makes sense,” he said. “I take it then you’d like to keep this on the down low?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she replied.

  “Then this is okay?” Fletcher gently grasped her hand.

  Beam smiled. “Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought.” She squeezed his hand, her skin so warm to the touch it was almost hot.

  People stared as they walked, but Fletcher was finally able to shake some of the dark feelings from the day before and regain part of his old confidence as they strolled amongst the other pedestrians. It was still difficult for him to distinguish any main parts of the city since it all had the same architecture style and street signs were all in the Unhuman language, but Beam was sure in their path as she led him towards one of the most lively areas he’d seen since coming to Bren’it’p.

  “Everyone is out tonight,” he murmured to himself as they pressed into the throng. It was strange to rub up against so many different kinds of people: the winged [Tengu] and [Fairies], the furry [Werewolves] and [Bloodhounds], and the small, almost missable [Goblins] and [Gnomes]. He even caught a glimpse of some [Insectoids] in the mix, with their gleaming black shells and multitude of beady red eyes.

  “It is the start of the weekend,” Beam reminded him, glancing over her shoulder to smile at him.

  That smile always made him weak, and he’d do just about anything to see it.

  The nice thing about the crowd was that very few people were aware of a Human in their midst, and he didn’t hear a single slur as they made their way to whatever destination Beam had in mind.

  He did find himself breathing easier once she pulled him out of the flow and into the open doors of a formal restaurant. While there were some benefits to being locked in that kind of traffic, he enjoyed having his personal space back.

  “Table for two,” Beam requested of the host, a [Sylph] with blue hair and wispy skin.

  “Of course, ma’am. Right this way,” he said as he grabbed two menus.

  His pleasantness turned to surprise when he caught sight of Fletcher, but Fletcher kept a friendly smile on his face in hopes of limiting the reaction. The [Sylph] was quick to recover himself and take them to a table on the back patio where plenty of other couples were.

  A waitress came up as soon as they were seated, and Beam ordered them a type of wine Fletcher was unfamiliar with.

  “You’ll like it,” the [Jinn] promised as the waitress left.

  When the green liquid was poured into his glass, Fletcher doubted that promise, but a taste proved his fears unfounded. He was no wine expert, but this stuff was good, probably on par with the expensive stuff Maya Ortega liked. It had a distinct sweetness to it that enhanced the overall flavor.

  Beam then offered to order Fletcher’s meal as well, and he took a leap of faith to trust her. Fletcher appreciated that the waitress made absolutely no show of caring that he was a Human, a first from a stranger since his arrival in Bren’it’p.

  “So, how was work?” Fletcher asked once they were left to themselves to wait for the food.

  “Good. I mean, as enjoyable as managing the trust funds of politician’s children can be,” she said with a grin.

  “I’ll switch you, if you’d like. You can manage teachers and principles instead.”

  “Rough day?”

  “Eh. It was fine. It just seems that for every problem I solve, about ten more pop up that require immediate attention.” Fletcher sighed.

  “Isn’t that what you do as a Chief Education Administrator?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so. I do miss teaching though.” Luckily, he still managed to make time to visit the schools, even with all the other things he had to do.

  “You should have thought of that before you came all the way out to be chief of paperwork,” Beam joked.

  “If I’d known just how much paperwork was involved, I might have.” He chuckled, and the small talk continued until the waitress returned with their meals.

  The food Beam ordered for him was delicious, a type of savory meat wrapped in crispy bread with seared vegetables on the side, but the best part of the night was the conversation. He and Beam talked the whole evening, swapping stories of their childhoods and work.

  “Most parents would kill for a kid like you. Seriously? That's the worst thing you did as a teenager?” Beam asked.

  Fletcher smiled and shrugged. He didn’t have any particularly rebellious stories from his childhood, partly due to his hesitancy to take big risks given his Hexing. “I was what they call a ‘nerd’ in high school.”

  Her laughter turned to a sigh as she glanced around. “I guess we should get going. It’s getting late.”

  Fletcher finally unglued his eyes from her to see that the patio was mostly empty. They’d been here for hours without even realizing it. “Yeah, I guess we should. This was nice though. We should do it again sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He closed out the check, happy to spend more of his extra cash, and then together they left, entering the still lively street. Knarf was nowhere to be seen, but Fletcher wasn’t looking very hard. This had been his best date in years, or maybe even ever, and he didn’t need his bodyguard to come ruin it.

  They strolled back towards the quieter part of town where his apartment waited. As enamored as he was with Beam and her golden beauty, he couldn’t help feeling like he was being watched as they walked, even when there was no one around them. He didn’t bother mentioning it though, recognizing that he’d been on edge ever since the fountain incident.

  “There’s a park near here that’s just perfect for picnics,” Fletcher said as they stopped in front of his building. “Got any plans this weekend?”

  “Just one. A picnic with some guy,” she answered with a laugh. “This really was great. Maybe there’s something to this Human dating system after all.” She squeezed his hand. “Goodnight, Fletcher. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, Beam,” he said, releasing her hand.

  As she turned to go, he decided that he had to take this chance, so he grabbed her arm and swung her back towards him, softly pressing his lips against hers. She kissed him back, the heat of her hands leaking through his shirt on his back.

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  And then the moment was over as Beam pulled away with a smile.

  “Tomorrow then,” Fletcher said, releasing her arm.

  “Tomorrow,” she confirmed before walking away.

  He watched her golden form fade away and counted this as a good enough reason to keep this job for a while longer.

  ***

  Two and a half months later, Fletcher was on his usual morning jog. Knarf ran with him, though the [Ogre] never seemed particularly happy about it. The air was cool enough that Fletcher wore a beat up hoodie over his tank top, but his legs were still freezing thanks to the fact he packed only shorts for workout attire.

  Bren’it’p supposedly didn’t get very harsh winters which meant he might be able to keep his jogging habit through the whole year, which would be a big bonus to him. So far, with it being early December, that had proven true.

  This day marked his three month anniversary of being in the city, and thanks to his blooming relationship with Beam, he found a lot more joy in that achievement than he would have in regards to his job alone. It also helped that there had been fewer anti-humanism incidents.

  In fact, the worst he’d dealt with for two weeks now was the stares which always accompanied his movements in public. Most of the people in his neighborhood were used to seeing him about, and a few even waved or said “hi” if they saw him on his walking commute to the office.

  Even if all the streets seemed the same at first glance, Fletcher was getting familiar enough with those closest to his apartment to actually recognize the small differences that distinguished them, making it so he could navigate himself on a few different routes for his jogs and still find his way home. Almost every day he went out for the first month, he’d required Knarf to take the lead in order to get home. He was also learning enough of the Unhuman language through his personal study to kind of direct himself through street signs.

  As they passed through the market square where the [Yeti] and [Undine] attempted to drown him all those weeks ago, Fletcher waved to the [Sylph] at the fruit stand, and she waved back.

  A couple of other shopkeepers also nodded in his direction as he passed, marking a real change in attitude since his arrival. Bren’it’p was starting to feel like home, and Fletcher could see himself living here for years if things kept up this way.

  A few streets past the plaza, they picked up two recent additions to their jogging crew, his coworker, Fieva, and her son, Ruvo, who was sixteen years old. The two [Werewolves] had more stamina and speed than Fletcher could ever hope to match, but Fieva wanted Ruvo to practice being around Humans since he’d recently been accepted into a combined Human/Unhuman boarding school on North America's eastern shore that was set to open next fall.

  Ironically, Fletcher’s dad’s most recent letter informed him that Fletcher had gotten a job offer for that same school only last week.

  “Good morning,” he greeted the pair as he came to a stop before their apartment building.

  “Good morning Mr. Anders,” Fieva said.

  “Morning, sir.” Ruvo ducked his gray, furry head.

  “How are you doing, Ruvo?” Fletcher asked him directly, trying to set the young [Werewolf] at ease.

  “Fine, sir. And you?”

  “Good. Happy to be out in the fresh air,” he replied. “Shall we?”

  Fieva nodded, and the four of them set off at a faster pace than Fletcher preferred, but one he was learning to endure for the sake of his companions.

  “How is school going?” he asked the teenage boy after several minutes.

  Fieva was taking them into a quiet, less busy part of town that Fletcher had never been to before, but he trusted that she would know the way back. And if worse came to worst, it would be good practice for him with the Unhuman language and street signs.

  “Fine, sir,” Ruvo answered simply, nowhere near as out of breath as him

  “What’s your favorite class so far?” Fieva had asked Fletcher to befriend her son, and he was determined to give his best effort to that cause, no matter how many awkward conversations it took. In his experience, most Unhuman youth struggled to open up to Human adults for the first few interactions.

  “PE.”

  “And what do you like about it?” Fletcher decided that this would be his last question for now, partly because he didn’t want to press Ruvo too hard, and partly because he was running out of strength to maintain the pace while chatting.

  “Coach Nerraw has us play a lot of soccer. Most of the other kids complain about playing a Human sport, but I really like it,” Ruvo said, finally giving Fletcher more than five words.

  “What position do you play?” If the kid was actually going to talk to him, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity, even if his lungs were begging him to do just that.

  “Center forward,” he replied. “But I’m thinking of trying out goalie next time we rotate positions. I’m taller than the one we have now, and I’m definitely faster than her.”

  “Good. I hope you get to try it,” Fletcher said with a smile.

  “Do you play any sports, Mr. Anders?”

  Ah. So sports was the secret to unlock Ruvo’s friendship. That would make things a lot easier going forward.

  “I ran track and cross-country when I was in school,” he answered between breaths. Maybe he should have let the conversation die earlier. His lungs were starting to burn, and if anything, Fieva was only pushing them faster.

  “But you’re not very good at running,” the [Werewolf] said.

  “Ruvo!” Fieva chided, but Fletcher was laughing so hard he had to stop running and lean against the nearest wall to catch his breath. The kid had a good point.

  “Sorry, Mr. Anders,” Ruvo said sheepishly as the other three came to a stop and walked back to him.

  Fletcher waved his concerns off. “No, no. You’re right, Ruvo. I’m not very good at running, not by a long shot compared to most Unhumans, but I’m not too bad for a Human.”

  “So you’re saying I’ll have a good chance at making the soccer team when I go to Jersay Academy?” Ruvo asked with a grin.

  He laughed harder as he nodded. “Deities, yes, at least if the Human kids are anything like me.”

  “Why do you say ‘deities?’ I thought most Humans only believed in one God?” Ruvo said in a sudden change of subject.

  Fletcher’s lungs stopped burning quite so much as he stood up straight and stretched one of his legs. “It happened during the early years after the Merger and during the First Unhuman War. While a lot of us still believe in only one ‘God,’ as a society, we sort of adopted the Unhuman swear word of ‘deities’ and just kept with it,” he answered. “It’s one of those weird cultural swaps that happened, like how a lot of Unhumans use the peace sign as goodbye.” He held up two fingers. “This is a Human gesture that you guys took as your own.”

  “Oh, cool. I didn’t know that,” Ruvo said, making the same gesture with both of his hands. “Where did you guys get it?”

  “That, I don’t know.” Fletcher glanced at Fieva and Knarf. “Sorry, I’m almost ready to go again. One of these days I’ll be in good enough shape to keep up.”

  He moved to stretch his other leg as the sound of a shot rang out, echoing around the stone buildings.

  Knarf was on top of him in an instant, pressing him into the cold stones below as Fieva and Ruvo both screamed. Another bullet tore through the air, and Fletcher heard Knarf gasp.

  “Knarf,” he said, but the [Ogre] didn’t respond.

  There was no shooting for a few moments as Fletcher rolled out from under his bodyguard. Fieva was crouched over Ruvo in the nearest alleyway, and green blood spilled out from Knarf at an alarming rate.

  That was a bullet that had been meant for him, no doubt about it. Unhumans were restrictive on their access to guns, and it took serious means to get one. This was meant to be a political statement, an genuine assassination of the singular Human allowed in the city.

  “Over here.” The [Werewolf] motioned Fletcher to her. He crawled over to her, moving quickly as a bullet shattered into the stone wall behind him.

  Once he was in the safety of the alley, he moved to a crouch and peered around the corner to Knarf’s fallen form. After everything the [Ogre] had done for him, he wasn’t willing to abandon him. The shooting had stopped again, but that wasn’t to say the gunman was leaving, and for all Fletcher knew, they could be repositioning to get a better shot into the alley where the three of them hid.

  “Take Ruvo and get out of here. I’ll only draw their fire to you,” Fletcher said to Fieva, pushing her to the other exit.

  “What are you going to do?” Fieva asked as she pulled Ruvo to his feet.

  Fletcher replied with the most obvious answer. “Save Knarf.”

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