Chapter 2: Misunderstanding

The sun was setting by the time Amy made her way to the restaurant Sonic had agreed they would dine at. She had spent most of the time between them parting ways and her journey there trying on every outfit in her wardrobe. She was keen to look nice for their first official date, but equally keen to not overdo it. One thing she had learned over time was that Sonic did not really appreciate her being too forward, and so showing up over-dressed might scare him off again.

Also, she had to consider where they were going when choosing her outfit: with Sonic's limited and somewhat less than refined palate, she could never expect to go anywhere too fancy with him. The specific restaurant he had suggested was one Amy had never been to before – which was a little odd, as she struggled to remember Sonic ever going out for dinner without her – and so she found herself walking through a part of the city that she wouldn't usually. She had taken the bus from the quiet village by the beach where she lived into the city and gotten off at what she thought was the stop nearest to the restaurant she sought, but, the longer she walked, the more she hoped she had misunderstood Sonic's instructions. She was in a part of town she would not be comfortable knowing Cream had walked in on her own, and found herself self-consciously gripping her hands around the over-shoulder strap of her purse. At the same time she noticed a couple of shady figures on the opposite side of the street, a flickering square neon sign caught her attention, and, sure enough, directly ahead of her was the place Sonic had indicated they should meet. She sighed to herself as she considered that she had literally passed Sonic's house to catch the bus, and he really ought to have accompanied her there – though she concluded that forward-planning had never exactly been the blue hedgehog's strong point – and, assured of the proximity of her destination, Amy casually shifted her eyes to one side, watching across the street. One of the figures there was sitting on the ground, back resting against a wall, their body mostly obscured from vision beneath a ragged, hooded cape. The second figure appeared to be offering the seated figure money, but they were either unaware of the person's presence or else wilfully ignoring the offer. As the figure offering money finally grunted out something unpleasant and marched past the seated figure, Amy relaxed her hands a little, feeling both guilty that she had assumed either of them might try to mug her and simultaneously grateful that she did not have to sleep out on the street that night.

As she pushed open the door to the restaurant, Amy cast one last look over her shoulder at the hooded figure at the other side of the street, deciding then that she would buy some food for them. Maybe they had refused the offer of money because they were too proud, but surely they would welcome the offer of a warm meal. With her mind set, she turned her attention back to the restaurant ahead of her, yelping and leaning back as four people in matching uniforms swept past her, carrying a tray of food decorated with lit sparklers. She frowned, watching as they approached a table of people, who cheered their arrival. One of the staff members blew into a kazoo and then all four of the staff and everyone at the table began singing "happy birthday". Amy sighed, pondering keeping her coat on rather than reveal that she had turned up in a pretty dress to a restaurant full of people dressed in jeans and T-shirts. She stayed where she was, deciding to wait until the singing had ended before flagging down one of the staff to ask which table had been reserved for her and Sonic: but, moments later, when she heard a familiar baritone singing along with the crowd, she felt her heart sink. Some other customers within the restaurant had gathered around the table to join in singing, and the crowd included Sonic, Tails and Knuckles – the latter of whom was singing just slightly louder than everyone else around him.

Amy sighed and carefully slid the butterfly clip from her quills, allowing them to fall forwards over her forehead again. She slipped the clip into her purse and forced a smile as Sonic spotted her. As he started towards her, the crowd around the table dispersed, and, for a moment, she was bustled between bodies before finally finding herself face-to-face with her three friends.

"Ames, what took you so long?" Sonic asked her.

"Looking schmancy there, you gotta date later?" Knuckles added, eying her over.

Logically, she knew he was just making a (valid) observation based on how she was dressed, but she found the remark stinging a little more than it ought to. She turned a hard glare to Sonic, who maintained his smile for a few moments before it slowly fell.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"You said we were going out for dinner, Sonic," she answered him, keeping her voice low, despite the fact that Tails and Knuckles were standing so close, they would hear everything she said regardless.

"Yeah!" Sonic replied, brightened up again. "This place is great! We've been here before."

"No we haven't," Amy quietly answered.

"Well, me and the guys have definitely been here before."

Amy ground her teeth and wrung her fists around the strap of her purse in frustration.

"That was why Sonic asked you here, right Sonic?" Tails suddenly interrupted. "Because we liked it so much, we wanted to share it with you!"

"No," Sonic muttered, frowning at his friend.

Tails gave him a hard look and his confusion gave way to realisation.

"Yes!" he blurted out, turning his attention back to Amy. "Yes, I brought you here to share it with you."

"Do they do a good chilli dog here?" Amy asked sarcastically.

"They really do," Sonic replied, obliviously. "Like, easily one of the best I've ever had."

"They do a lot of nice food here," Tails interjected.

He had that nervous, twitchy look about him, that slightly squeaky tone of voice he got when he was trying to keep the peace, and, under any other circumstances, Amy might have felt sorry for the fox and reigned back her mounting anger: but she had already gone beyond the point of all reason.

"It's really mean, you know," she said, directing her words at Sonic.

"Mean?" he echoed. "How so?"

"To lead me on like that," she continued. "You had to know this wasn't what I had in mind."

She pointed one agitated finger about herself, which Sonic's green eyes followed the movement of, before settling back onto her eyes.

"Ames, you need to try the chilli dogs here," he said. "They are so good here, even you can't complain about them. Right, guys?"

"She does complain about you eating chilli dogs all the time!" Knuckles agreed as Tails threw Amy an awkward smile.

"I don't care where we are, Sonic," Amy said tightly. "I thought when you asked me to have dinner with you tonight, you were asking me to have dinner with you. Do you understand?"

"That is what we're doing, Ames," Sonic replied, frowning a little. "We are having dinner tonight."

"That's not what she meant," Tails whispered under his breath, before averting his eyes as Amy turned her glare to him.

Sonic glanced back and forth between Tails and Knuckles before turning a frown to Amy and shrugging his shoulders.

"Am I missing something here?" he asked.

Amy drew in a breath to tell him exactly how foolish he had made her feel, but, as she saw the fearful look on Tails's face and the curious one on Knuckles's, she sighed the air back out in defeat.

"Forget it," she concluded. "I'll catch you guys later."

She turned around and started back towards the door. Behind her, Sonic called out to her to stop, but his words faded as Tails began frantically whispering something to him.

"Why would she think I was asking her out on a date?" Sonic loudly answered his friend. "How dumb is that? Obviously I meant we should all go out and celebrate our victory!"

Amy slammed the restaurant door closed behind herself and started stomping back down the street, no longer caring what sort of neighbourhood it was or even if she was going in the right direction to catch the bus back home. She wanted to cry, but she was tired of crying over what was, in a way, her own lack of judgement: she ought to have known that Sonic would never just up and ask her out for a dinner date. She was every bit as much to blame for how she felt as he was, if not even more so. She swiped a hand at her face as one stray tear did manage to break free from the corner of one eye. She was so charged with emotional energy – hurt, humiliation, anger, disappointment – she started to consider just walking the entire way home in the hopes of wearing herself out so that she could just go home and sleep and forget the entire night had ever happened. But, just as she started to put serious consideration into her idea, she noticed something that slowed her in her tracks until she came to a complete standstill. A short way ahead of her, the hooded figure who had been sitting at the other side of the road was standing at the window of a small takeaway, fumbling with a handful of coins as the man on the other side of the counter glared at him impatiently.

"Hey pal, this isn't even a real coin," the surly coyote at the counter said, holding up a grubby token.

The hooded figured reached up both hands and opened them out, releasing a mass of brown coins onto the worktop.

"What do you think this is, huh?" the coyote snapped at him. "I don't got time to count your pennies here."

Amy altered her path and marched up to the counter, glaring up at the coyote. At her side, the hooded figure flinched at her approach, pulling at their hood to keep their face in shadow.

"Money is money, stop being so rude and serve this poor person!" she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the coyote.

"Lady, I don't even need to count to know he ain't got enough to buy a single thing off my menu," the coyote answered her, his tone softened but his eyelids heavy, as though he was done dealing with anyone at all that day.

"Well then take this," Amy said, fumbling with her purse until she found a note.

She slammed the note down onto the worktop, her action making the coins bounce, and, in an act that only drew more of her pity, the hooded figure at her side quickly grabbed up the coins that fell. The coyote nodded at her before turning his attention to the hooded figure.

"How about it, pal?" he asked. "You wanna tell me what you want now or what? The lady says she's paying."

Amy turned expectantly to the hooded figure. He paused where he was momentarily, before swiping his hands over the counter, retrieving all his pennies, and then making to leave.

"Hey!" Amy said, reaching out an arm towards him. "Wait, let me buy you something, it's no big deal, I promise!"

The hooded figure paused before turning and quickly moving away. Amy sighed, recovering her note from the worktop.

"Strange guy," the coyote told her. "He appeared last night. I think he slept over there. Hasn't said a word. Something's wrong with him."

"Maybe he just doesn't like rude street vendors!" Amy snapped.

"I'm not a street vendor lady, I'm a chef!"

"Sure you are."

Amy moved away, rolling her eyes as the coyote shouted a curse after her. Once she had secured her money back into her purse, she quickened her pace, following after the hooded figure. Although he appeared to only be walking, he had long legs, and was taking long, oddly punctuated, strides, soon forcing her to break into a run to catch up to him.

"Hey, slow down!" she called as she neared him.

He looked back over his shoulder at her, stumbling as he did so. In the time it took for him to right himself, Amy had caught up to him.

"Let me buy you something to eat at least, please," she said, reaching out a hand towards him.

Amy touched her hand to the stranger's, and the reassuring smile she had been offering him vanished.

"Your hands are so cold!" she blurted out, grabbing his hand in both of hers.

The mittens he was wearing felt pretty bulky, but she could feel no warmth coming from them at all. And, as she stood there before him, she clearly heard his stomach grumbling.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she gushed. "Let me make you dinner."

Amy turned from him and waved for a taxi, opening the door and indicating for her new friend to get in ahead of her. He hesitated, but ultimately complied without a word. Once she had told the driver their destination, Amy turned her head to smile at her companion.

"My name's Amy Rose, by the way," she offered.

The stranger reached up his mittened hands and slid down the ragged hood, turning his head slightly to regard her from the corner of his eyes as he gave a singular, stiff nod of his head. Amy's mouth moved over a word she stopped herself from saying out loud: but she lacked the same restraint over her eyes, which stared, unblinkingly, at the male hedgehog sitting at her side. Her instinct was to think she was looking at Sonic. He had the same shade of blue quills – though his were a little shorter and scruffier than Sonic's – and his face was identical to Sonic's in every way except one: his eyes were an unusually bright and flat shade of red. Under any other circumstances, she might have mistaken him entirely for Sonic. But his differing eye colour was not the main feature that distinguished him from Sonic.

He sat unusually straight, almost as though his spine was rigid, and there was a palpable intensity about him that was diametrically opposite to Sonic's usual slouched, relaxed, amiable demeanour.

"Have-have we met before?" Amy asked in a small voice.

He stared at her, unblinkingly, for a long time before closing his eyes and shaking his head once. He then turned his head forwards and opened his eyes again, his face expressionless but his posture as stiff and his overall presence as vaguely unsettling. Amy watched him for a moment longer before turning to look forwards also. Her mind began to race as she considered what she was doing: she had already asked the taxi driver to take her home, so she had already revealed her home address, and, suddenly, she realised she was about to arrive home with a strange man in tow with her. What did she intend to do when she got home? She suppressed a panicked look as she inwardly berated herself for not thinking through what she had just committed to. Her plan had simply been to help a poor homeless person find a hot meal, but what would he do after she fed him? What would she do? It seemed wrong to put him back out onto the streets for the night, but, likewise, her house only had the one bedroom, and she disliked the idea of a stranger sleeping on her couch. What if he stole from her? Or worse?

Amy peered out the corner of her eye at the man at her side. He remained very still, but after a few moments, he audibly exhaled in what sounded like an exasperated sigh, before turning his head and looking at her again. He started to do something with his hands and Amy's head snapped around so that she was facing him fully. He remained calm, his movements precise as he slid off his mittens, revealing that he was wearing what looked like a pair of battered old leather driving gloves underneath. Amy frowned, both surprised to see him wearing two pairs of gloves but also briefly wondering just how cold he was – his hands had felt like ice through the mittens – though her attention snapped back to the present as he purposefully held his hands in front of his face and made a few strange hand gestures, before lifting his eyebrows slightly, as though he expected her to respond somehow.

"Wh-what?" she muttered.

He repeated his actions, and she frowned. He sighed again, putting his mittens back on and turning to face forwards once more. Amy copied his actions, but this time her mind went blank. She had no idea why she had invited him back to her house or what she would do when they got there, and so all she could do was hope that he was someone she could trust.

Next Chapter: Amy arrives home and finds that her new friend is far from talkative, but he does at least have a (very) healthy appetite, and is receptive to the help she offers him, and shortly starts to take over her house. Just as she thinks he's becoming a little too much, Tails arrives at her house and explains that the stranger she has taken in is not a stranger after all. Chapter 3: Secret