Two days later, the road was crossing a stretch of brushy wilderness. The sun was already fading from yellow to orange before Belle slowed to a stop.

Turning to Arthur, she smiled and said, "Ready for dinner?"

Arthur picked at the stained collar of his Abbey Road shirt. "I-I-I suppose. If you wouldn't mind, um, staring at the road ahead or something, I'll, uh, start getting things set up. O-okay?" While the blood wasn't yet rushing to his face, his breathing was as strained as his twitchy grin.

"Works for me." Setting down all her bags but the duffel of bullets, she walked forward a bit, rifle ready. A glance back at Kiku confirmed he had already unloaded but was conversing with Arthur. The latter was waving his arms energetically, while Kiku went through one of his bags and nodded.

Belle had to wonder what Arthur was planning if he needed Kiku's help. He obviously wanted to impress her, but, given the circumstances, she had no idea what exactly he could do, assisted or otherwise.

She could imagine Kiku helping with the cooking. There was plenty of deer over Arthur's shoulders, but he was... talented enough to ruin all of it if he tried anything complicated.

Turning back towards the north, she shot down a distant infected and waited.


Just before the sun hit the horizon, Arthur called for Belle. "I, um, think everything's, er, more or less ready."

Getting to her feet, Belle put away her rifle and turned around. She had to do a bit of walking to get to the setup, but Arthur couldn't exactly just move it closer to her. Two tall candlesticks, nicked but polished, stood straight at the sides, partially embedded in the mud. A few smaller candles dotted the square, beige tarp between the tall candlesticks. In lieu of a proper tablecloth, two lacy place mats lay half-hidden under mismatched but fine china dishes. Sauced, steaming lumps of meat with decorative green sprigs sat on each of the main plates, and smaller plates held slices of grapefruit arranged in starbursts. Silver forks and knives were placed carefully to the side, pinning down paper napkins. In the middle of the tarp stood a well-scrubbed vase with various tiny flowers spilling over the rim. Arthur stood tensely at the far end of the setup, his walking clothes shed for a dress shirt and waistcoat that were a bit faded but matched the accompanying grey slacks. His sneakers didn't quite fit with the rest of the outfit, but they reflected bits of flame as well as the melted candle wax.

"Um..." Having no chair to pull out for her, Arthur just spread her section of the tarp out smooth and invited her to sit. After seeing Kiku on the other side of the road watching for infecteds, Belle put her last duffel to the side and complied. Arthur hovered over his spot and then spent a minute straightening one of the candlesticks before he joined her. Repeatedly shifting his knees, he picked at his collar and glanced at Belle before looking down at the food.

"Well, um, everything's ready with, uh, Kiku's help, so dig in, and all that." He grabbed his fork and knife a bit too eagerly but positioned the handles precisely against his palms as Belle picked up her utensils.

"Fancy," she commented cheerfully, cutting off a piece.

"U-uh-huh." He quickly put a piece in his mouth.

Not sure what to expect, Belle tried her first bite. Orange, thyme, parsley, meat. Not very tough, either.

By the time she finished chewing, she had started to feel Arthur's gaze on her. When she looked up at him, he hurried to cut up more of his meal, though not without constantly stealing glances at her.

"It's really good," she said, dabbing some of the sauce off her lip. She'd had better meals, but, if she limited the category to deer, she wasn't sure she could still say that. The herbs were a bit faded from age, but they were still recognizable and complemented the meat well. She suspected the success was due to Kiku, but there was no reason to jump to conclusions.

"Um, thanks." Arthur forked another piece and looked at it. "We're, uh, lucky we found that orange tree earlier."

"Yeah, it's a nice touch." She chewed through another piece before glancing at the empty spot of tarp opposite the grapefruit plate. "Don't tell me Kiku's bringing in wine or something."

"What? No." Frowning, Arthur looked at the meal for a few moments before it finally clicked. He already knew there was no wine—but there were no other drinks, either. He had completely neglected to get any.

"Hang on," Belle started, setting the messy edges of her silverware on the rim of her plate. "I didn't think to bring my water bottle with me. Let me go—"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Arthur scrambled to get to his feet first. "I-I'll get it. Um..." Heart pounding, he walked onto the roadway. "Wh-which bag?"

"Not that one," Belle said as he tried to unzip the duffel of bullets. "On the far left. Um—my left, sorry." She tried to laugh a little, but Arthur's shaking was starting to make her unsettled.

Arthur fumbled with the bag handles as he tried to get them out of the way.

Belle sighed. "Goodness, Arthur, I can get it—"

"No! S-stay where you are!" Gulping down air, Arthur finally tugged at the zipper. "Um, please."

"All right." Belle shifted her legs, occupying herself by cutting up her meat.

After another minute of shuffling, Arthur finally retrieved the water bottle. For a moment he wondered why Kiku wasn't helping in this dire situation, but since the swordsman seemed to be busy pummeling two zombies, Arthur let the matter slide. Besides, he couldn't expect Kiku to do all of the work. This was his date, and he was the one screwing it up, too.

How could he forget to bring drinks? When was the last time he had any sort of meal without washing it down? Hadn't he planned on swiping some crystalline glasses for this? What was wrong with him? He should have thought of drinks when he set out to prepare a meal, just as he should have remembered how to shake hands when he first set out to introduce himself. He did such a splendid job with both of those.

Grabbing his own water bottle as an afterthought, he hurried back to the tarp and set the drinks down panting.

"Thanks," Belle said, picking up hers.

"Sorry," Arthur muttered, shoving another forkful into his mouth.

Still swallowing a draught, Belle waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I have plenty of water, anyway."

Arthur made a mumbling noise and flipped a piece of meat over in the sauce. This date was supposed to be extravagant, not just a matter of having enough for a meal. It may have not been terribly fancy, but it was still supposed to be special.

Belle forked a piece and spun it on the plate. "So, what are we supposed to talk about on a date, anyway? I can't exactly ask you how your day or week has been going since I've been there the whole time."

As she chewed, Arthur fidgeted, tugging at his shirt collar. "I-I don't know. I've never, um..." He put another bite in his mouth.

"Thought about it much?" Belle suggested. "Yeah, me, neither. I think it's usually a get-to-know-you sort of thing, but we already know each other pretty well. Let's see—" she put her empty fork to her lip—"what do I not know about you?"

Arthur's jaws continued chewing even though he had already swallowed.

"What's your middle name?" Belle finally started, pointing at Arthur with her fork.

Arthur drew back. "U-um, Danger, of course. No, um..." He stalled a bit—forgetting his own name again?—before finally saying, "Er, Swinburne."

Belle laughed. "Seriously?" For a moment Arthur thought she was commenting on his hesitation, but she continued, "In case you didn't sound British enough before. So, Arthur Swinburne... Wait, what's your last name again?"

"Um, Kirkland."

"Huh." Belle nibbled on her fork before getting another bite.

After a moment, Arthur started, "And you?"

She lowered her fork. "Belle Emma Mertens," she answered, tracing the words in the air with one finger as she said them.

Not sure how else he was supposed to respond, Arthur nodded and continued eating.

Looking at the darkening sky, Belle took a drink. "Belle Kirkland. Hm, doesn't have that good a ring to it, but I've heard worse."

Arthur flushed, watching candlelight glint off his fork. Struggling to figure out whether she meant that literally or was making some comment about dating him in general, he sawed off another piece of meat and popped it in his mouth.

"So," Belle eventually started. "Nice conversation we have going here."

Arthur fidgeted. "A-as you said, there's, uh, really not much to talk about." Swallowing, he jabbed his fork down for his next piece of meat, but, judging by the screech of silver on china, there was nothing left to stab. Hands shaking, he switched his empty plate and the one with grapefruit, accidentally clanging them against each other.

"Sh—sorry." Setting the plate down, he sucked the sauce off his fork and nervously started on the grapefruit.

As the sour juice squirted between his teeth, he tried to figure out a conversation topic, but all he could think about was how terrible an idea this was. He forgot the drinks, he couldn't think of anything to say, he nearly broke the plates, which didn't match, anyway, and hardly anything here matched, and the only things of worth were Kiku's doing, anyway, and—and why would he expect anything better, anyway? He already shot her, dragged her off her path, and generally made himself a nuisance whenever possible, and a contemptible attempt at a date was hardly going to fix that.

"Where did you find the grapefruit, anyway?"

"What? Nowhere," Arthur stammered, gaze shooting up to meet Belle's. "Um—I don't remember? By a house. Er..."

Belle chuckled. "Calm down, it's not the million-dollar question."

"R-right. Um..." Arthur tugged at his collar. On the second pull, the top button went flying off with a pop. The off-white circle shone in the candlelight for a moment before it fell somewhere on the tarp with a faint tap. Too panicked to know what he was doing, Arthur found himself on his knees, frantically sweeping his hands over the crinkling surface, feeling for the button. Chomping on another piece of grapefruit, Belle chuckled weakly and pulled her feet out of the way. Arthur finally managed to slow his pursuit and sat up, face a shade of red worthy of a a fire extinguisher.

"I think Kiku might need some help," he choked out, not looking at Belle as he hopped to his feet and ran off.

"Arthur—" Belle started, but he was already gone. Sighing, she chewed up her last slice of grapefruit and got to her feet.

Kiku did actually seem to be having a bit of trouble with a trio of infecteds, but Arthur wasn't shooting any down. Instead of drawing any arrows, he was hiding behind a tree by the side of the road.

Firing on one of the infecteds point blank, Belle made sure Kiku could handle the rest before she hurried over to Arthur.

"Arthur?" She called his name again but had to shake his shoulder before he turned around. The dim light of the moon made the bark-shaped dents on his forehead look even stranger.

"What?" he halfheartedly snapped.

Belle dragged him by the elbow back towards the road. "Just seeing if you're okay."

"I could be much better, thanks," he muttered, stumbling over a clump of weeds.

Belle stuck out her other arm to keep him from falling. "What is it? Just stressed out?"

Arthur mumbled something and stomped back over to the tarp. "You can have the rest of my grapefruit." He stacked up the larger, empty plates and put them in one corner.

"That's okay," Belle started. "I had plenty; go ahead."

Arthur started to dig up the candlesticks. "I'm not hungry."

Belle folded her arms. "Really? We've been walking all day, and you didn't exactly have a huge lunch. There's no reason—"

Arthur turned on her. "I made this date a complete disaster! How's that for a reason?"

"Whoa, whoa—hold your horses." Belle leaned towards him. "Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it didn't end with—" she counted off on her fingers—"food poisoning, you trying to grope me, or somebody bleeding out on the ground. Not a total disaster by my standards."

Flushing, Arthur briefly wondered why he was putting things away when they were about to leave the area. Regardless, he started to gather the smaller candles by the big ones. "F-fine, it was a moderate disaster. That better?"

Belle sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "It wasn't all bad, okay? Your nerves kind of shot the atmosphere, and it wasn't a traditional date, but—"

"But what?" Arthur put her grapefruit plate on top of the larger stack with a sharp clack. "But it still worked out somehow? How? There was no romantic conversation, none of the dinnerware or candles matched, we didn't eat anything we wouldn't usually, we had no drinks, we sat on a bloody tarp, I didn't get to do so much as pull out your chair for you, the napkins have fast food logos on them, the vase is full of random weeds and wildflowers, I can't even buy your meal for you, and—and do you want these stupid grapefruit pieces or not?" He thrust the other small plate in her direction, and she finally picked up the last two slices with her hands.

Belle frowned, but he looked too close to tears for her to snap back at him. "I don't doubt," she started before he could go off on some other bitter tangent, "you did the best you could under our circumstances, all right? That's good enough for me."

"But you deserve better than this!" He put the small plate down on the others, cringing when it split. "The date was supposed to be something special, but it's all just more of the same. Scraping up enough to survive."

"It was special," Belle protested, swallowing one of the grapefruit slices. "The meat may have still been as gamey as everything else, but you made it up nicely—"

"Kiku did all of it!" Arthur gave up on his cleaning and just threw the tarp over the remaining evidence. "Go marry him."

Eyebrows lowering, Belle made a sound, but Arthur didn't look at her as he stomped off towards that tree he had hidden behind.

"I'm sorry," she started, stalking after him, "I thought you were trying to gain my approval in all of this."

"Well—" Arthur sucked in a breath before crossing his arms. "Well, I respect that you had reasonably low standards of me, but that doesn't change anything." He glared at the moon. "It's late; let's go build some shelter."

"F-fine!" Belle spluttered. "Kiku, shake up your flashlight. Let's find a good tree."

At the frustration in her voice, Arthur flinched. A wave of panic rose at the back of his throat as he wondered what on earth he was doing. Sabotaging a relationship before he could accidentally ruin it? Just like he always used to do?

He was able to swallow down the jitters, but the seared-numb feeling wasn't much better.

So he was going back to the usual him now? All of those solid walls he'd built to keep others at bay had crumbled with disuse long before Belle entered his life. Yet suddenly they were pulling themselves together again—he could feel it. But never before had someone made it so far past those walls in the first place. It would be safer for the both of them if he just threw her out. And she'd be angry, but...

He didn't want her to be angry...

But it would have to happen eventually, right? She was smart enough to figure him out in time, and he would be a disappointment no matter what her expectations were. He just had to push her away before she could get any closer, because no matter how much this would hurt, delaying would only make it worse.

But he didn't want to push her away at all! What on earth was he doing? What on earth...

He started to call her name but found himself mute. Was he really going to hope that it would all work out? Could he even?

Feeling strangled from the inside, Arthur just gathered up his bags and followed the others into the trees.