The Perfect Date

Every expected convention should have determined that Chica should not have been the first to the bus station. She was short, both in terms of her height and her legs. She also wasn't ashamed to admit that she was rather chubby. Yet despite that and having a boyfriend who was taller and skinnier with longer legs, she was the one waiting for him.

Admittedly, she was also a synthetic, but still.

She thanked the bus driver for waiting, let Mike pay for his ticket and sat with him at the back.

"Holy… hell…" Mike panted when he reached her. "I… I'm seriously out of shape. I forget… how fast you guys can be…"

"Good thing one of us is," she teased. She frowned and took out a sheet of paper from her coat pocket. She sighed with relief. "I knew I'd gotten the times for the buses right! I didn't think one of them would have been early."

Mike waited until he got his breath back before answering. "Sometimes, they go around their stops quicker if there's not as many people and they have to wait so it doesn't mess up their other timings. He wouldn't have driven off early."

"But I couldn't take that chance!" She showed him the sheet. "We need to be in Greater Borealis for ten o'clock if we're going to get the chance to do everything I've got planned for us."

"Wow, you weren't kidding," Mike said, whistling when he read it over. "When you said you had a plan for our date, I didn't actually think you'd gone to this extent."

"Of course I did! Goldie helped me pick out some places and things to do. This," she said, "should ensure we get to everywhere we need to be so we can do them together.

The plan in question was a timetable. It was complete with average time lengths for their activities and directions for places based on where they were, factoring in time spent for walking and even the fact that Mike was on a budget and Chica didn't really have any money herself. She'd asked Aaron for some, so she could at least pay her own way, but knew she had to be careful.

Mike was reading it closely and nodding. "Yeah, this all looks like it'll be a lot of fun. You've uh, really packed a lot in here."

"I wanted to be sure we weren't going to miss out on anything," she said. "Don't you worry about it, Mike. It's all been planned out and we're going to have a wonderful time."

"I don't doubt that. I mean, it's time spent with you," he murmured with a blush.

"Oh you sweetheart!" She kissed his cheek and looped her arm through his. "That just confirms it."

She scooted closer to him while he returned the gesture by kissing the top of her head. She beamed, already letting the spike of worry she had earlier die down. This was going to be perfect!

The bus ride was rather pleasant, at first. Thinking back on it, some of her best experiences involving Mike had happened while on a bus. Going out of the restaurant for the first time. Travelling to meet him with the others after he got out. Now, they were off on their first date. Well, not very first. Not counting Christmas, when things had been more confused and uncertain with them, there had been when she'd come to his apartment. But this was them going out, properly, like she'd seen in all those movies and musicals. She just hoped it would be more like a romance movie and not a romantic comedy.

As it went on though, her worry started to come back again. Was the ride to the city supposed to take this long? She kept asking Mike for the time. Each time he told her, she was both reassured but also concerned. Yes, for the moment, they were on time but that could change. The bus could break down. They could hit traffic or roadworks or anything that could slow them down.

To her horror, one of those predictions came true. Just as they were arriving at the city, so were a long line of cars. The frequent honking of horns and the way the bus felt like it was inching along only added to her mounting anxiety. By the time they were able to embark from the bus, they had to hurry along and arrived at their first stop just in time.

"There we go!" she declared. "Nothing to it."

"Speak… for yourself…" Mike panted.

"Oh Mike, I'm sorry for making you run so much." She let him lean on her. "But now we're here, we can take it nice and easy. We just need to keep an eye on the time so we can get to the next place without having to rush."

"Sounds good… to me," he agreed.

The first item on Chica's list was a park, located within Greater Borealis itself. Apparently, this was quite a common thing among a few cities: have a park to offset how built up the rest of the area was. It gave people a change of scenery and a natural environment for animals.

Chica was no stranger to the natural environment. After all, they'd hidden at the old Fredabear diner in the forest before moving into the Fun Palace. There was a different feel to the park though. The forest was most assuredly claimed by nature, even the restaurant had felt like part of it with how overgrown it had become. But here, there were notable signs of human influence. Concrete paths threading through the grass and trees. Flower beds with little fences. Signs indicating certain points of interest, like a playground or the lake. Not to mention all the people around.

It was strange for her. She'd seen in movies where parts of it had taken place in a park. People out jogging or sitting on benches or like the two of them, out for a walk together. But seeing it on a screen but also experiencing it, with nobody staring at her or remarking on her appearance like she had dreaded they would. It made her feel happy.

The sound of children laughing caught her attention. It was coming from the playground. Children running around, playing on see-saws or scaling climbing frames. Just having fun. She felt a dull ache in her heart at the sight.

"You miss them, don't you?" Mike had noticed her staring.

She nodded. "I… I never really thought about it. So much has happened and is still happening, it never really came up. I never thought the last show we ever did would be… well, the last."

"Hey, don't say that." He patted her arm and smiled. "I know things are weird right now, but once it's all been dealt with, you can get back to it again."

"I'd like to think so, but…" Chica sighed and looked back at the playground. "What happened to those children, it was… horrible. And with the new synths and Hawthorne, I don't know if we'll ever be able to perform like we did. Even if we do, it won't be the same."

"I-I guess not. But…" Mike trailed off, clearly thinking about his next words. He suddenly snapped his fingers. "Hey, think of it like this. You guys were supposed to perform without the suits. Then Sid betrayed you and you had to stay hidden, right?"

"Right," she said, her voice uncertain.

"Not long after that, Goldie has to be switched off and put away. Then the Bite of '87 happened and Foxy goes away for over twenty years, leaving just you, Bonnie and Freddy as well as forcing my dad away. Then I come along and bring Foxy back into the show after all that time. Then Goldie comes too and there was a whole thing with her…"

"I'm sorry, Mike but where is this going?"

"Okay, well… I guess what I'm saying is that things do change, Chica. All of that stuff happened, which changed what you were used to o-or what you expected. But you still did it anyway. Sometimes, things got better or they got worse, but you guys dealt with it. This is no different." He offered a grin. "If you can get through all of that, I think you'll be fine."

"Yes. Yes, you're right." She found her own smile growing. "Thank you, Mike. That makes me feel better about it."

"I'm glad it does." He squeezed her hand. "Wouldn't want the restaurant's ray of sunshine getting dim."

"Aww! That's so sweet of you!" She grinned at him. "I think it helps that we have our favourite nightguard."

"Even if I'm not the only one?"

"Even then."

"Good to know. Also," he added, "I thought I was your favourite."

"I didn't want to be too possessive. After all, Foxy might get jealous."

"I mean, he does have that rugged look about him…"

The two of them shared a laugh and made their way towards the lake for another item on her list: sitting by the water and feeding the ducks. There was a small hut that sold bags of seed which was safe for them to eat, found a bench and settled down. Within moments, a small flock had congregated towards them.

"Look at them all!" cooed Chica. "Oh, they're just so adorable! Here you go, there's plenty for everyone."

Mike leaned in to whisper. "Maybe they saw the feathers in your hair and recognised you as one of their own."

"At last, I have found my people," she tittered. "You know that people actually thought I was a duck when I wore my suit? Like, it wasn't obvious from my appearance and my name that I'm meant to be a chicken?"

"Yeah, Bonnie actually warned me about that when I first met you."

"I mean, was it really so easy to get them mixed up? My suit had orange legs, big clawed feet and I was coloured yellow! And my name is Chica!" she added. "But no, the fact my mask had a beak obviously means I'm a duck, even though ducks have flat bills and not sharp, pointed beaks like mine was!"

"Which was why I was very careful not to make that mistake. I wouldn't have wanted to earn your wrath."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to get so worked up about it. It was just annoying. It's like how some people thought Bonnie was a guy."

"I'll bet she got a kick out of that."

"Actually, she didn't really mind it. She even made a whole bit from it if she caught anyone making the mistake. Put on this deep voice and started flexing her muscles." She looked out across the water, smiling fondly. "We had some great times."

"And you'll have even more," said Mike.

For a moment, she almost believed him. Until Goldie's words about not being certain about what might happen, about what they would soon confront, crept into her mind.

Chica jumped at the sound of a bell, dispelling them at once. It came from a faux clock tower on a small island in the duck pond's centre, announcing fifteen minutes past eleven.

"Oh no!" she cried. "Mike, why didn't you tell me what time it was?"

"I-I'm sorry. I was just-"

"Never mind, let me see the plan!" She hurriedly took it out and checked it. "Okay, so we're a little behind but we can make it up if we hurry."

"But we haven't finished feeding all of our-"

Chica snatched the bag from his hand, passed it off to a bewildered man walking by and grabbed Mike's hand, rushing out of the park. Even worse was that she got turned around, looking for the right exit out of the park which would put them closer to their destination. When they found it, they were behind by over five minutes. At a quick walk, they'd make it. They just wouldn't have as much time there until the next item on their list.

She still had hold of Mike's hand, practically dragging him along. She felt bad for doing this, but she knew he'd appreciate it, once he saw where they were going. She was almost tempted to scoop him up and carry him, just to arrive a little quicker. She resisted, but only just. She checked the time when they arrived. Half past eleven. Not ideal, but still good. That gave them half an hour here.

"Geeze… this date is… really giving me a… a workout," he wheezed when they stopped.

"Oh Mike, I'm so sorry. I let the time completely get away from us and I didn't want to rush you, but we only have so many hours in the day and I don't want to-"

"Chica, it's… it's okay." He managed a smile. "I really don't… don't mind. We'll… try to keep a closer eye on it, yeah?"

"Okay, good. But look where we are!" she said proudly.

The building in question was white. It looked like a pyramid that had been rested on one of the sides nearest to the point, lengthened and stretched into odd angles. It was such an odd design, yet considering what it was, she supposed it was fitting.

"An art gallery?" Mike's eyes lit up. "Yes! I haven't been to one of these for ages!"

"I'm so happy you're so excited!" she trilled. "I remembered how much you liked drawing and art. When I found out the city had this, I knew we had to go. We don't have as long as I'd like, but I hope we can still enjoy it."

"Hey, any chance I get to actually use my degree for something is one I'm not going to pass up."

"Oh, I didn't realise you studied art as well," said Chica while they walked inside. "I suppose it makes sense, given how good you are."

"Thanks," he murmured with a blush. "O-Only as good as you are with singing and cooking a-and just, well, making everyone happy."

"Mike, stop it," she mumbled, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "I'm sure it's a crime to be that sweet."

"Then I uh, I guess we're both getting arrested." They exchanged a brief kiss before continuing, something that still made Chica's stomach dance. "But yeah, it was pretty fun, mostly. Artist research was my least favourite bit of it, but actually doing it was good. Only thing is nobody wants to hire someone with an art degree."

"But it was all worth it in the end, right?"

"I'll ask my lingering student debt."

The gallery was divided into both classical and contemporary art. They entered the latter gallery first, where Chica honestly wasn't sure what to look at first. The walls were stark white, the pieces on or around them immediately standing out. It wasn't just paintings, but sculptures and abstract shapes. After a few minutes of walking around, Chica's confusion hadn't really abated.

"Mike?" she whispered. "Do you… understand what any of these mean?"

"Well, they mean whatever you make of them. This kind of art is meant to be really open in terms of their meaning."

"I see that but… well, look at this set." She gestured to a collection in one of the corners. "It's just a series of shapes with some streaks of colour painted across them."

"I mean…" Mike looked around at them. "I guess you could say it's mean to represent how every individual is both the same, but different on both the outside and inside."

"I suppose I can see that. But then it looks so strange next to some of the others. To me, that couldn't have taken very long but something like this must have taken them ages." She indicated a dog made entirely of plastic bottles. "And that one over there is just some paint that's been messily thrown at a canvas!"

He shrugged. "That's both the good and bad thing about something that's open to individual interpretation. Some people just cover themselves in paint and roll around naked in a room full of paper."

"Mike, I certainly hope that's not you propositioning something."

"N-No, I was just saying that a-art can be weird and-!"

"It's okay, I'm only teasing," she tittered. "Still, something like that might look better than some of these." She frowned at what looked like sheets of plastic that had been scrunched up, dipped in paint and hung from the ceiling. "I'd rather be able to tell what something is."

"To be fair, some classic art is like that too. Picasso drew people using shapes in some of his work."

"You can probably tell they're meant to be people though."

"Well they might have some in here somewhere. How about we switch galleries?"

"Lead on then, my educated artist."

"Of course madam, right this way," he said, affecting a British accent.

The moment they arrived at the classic art section, Chica felt a noticeable difference. The walls were coloured crimson and the floor was burnished wood. Instead of confusion, she felt an intrigue to examine all of these different styles and pieces more closely. Something that was shared by the man accompanying her.

Mike was in his element. He'd studied a lot of the artist's work on display here and he passionately went into all of the ones he recognised, everything from facts about the artist to their style and what they were trying to achieve with the artworks. Since Chica's main frame of reference was the drawings the children at the restaurant did, she was happy to explore it. His evident fervour for it only made it more engaging.

"Oh, they have Van Gogh!" Now it was Mike leading her by the hand. "Come on, you need to see this!"

The sign outside told them this exhibit was designed to be immersive. Chica soon learned what that meant. A vibrant, brilliant blue illuminated the entire space. A projection, on the floor and ceiling, of the night sky. But this wasn't just the blackness, dotted with white spots and clouds. This was beautiful, breath-taking streaks like an ocean or a river. Stars radiated with irrepressible light, white blending into pale yellow and gold so seamlessly. Separate, yet whole. She felt like she could reach out and grasp the colours.

"This is… amazing," she whispered.

"Isn't it? Van Gogh was one of my favourite artists when we looked at him." Mike gazed around the space. "It's kind of sad though. He didn't really have the best life. He suffered from severe mental illness, in a time when people didn't fully understand what that meant. He was ridiculed and nobody liked his art. In the end, it's believed he killed himself."

"Oh that's awful! Oh, that poor man. And it looks so wonderful too."

"Yeah, it's not a happy story. But look at all of this. Despite all of his suffering, he still created all of this. Even with all of his struggles, he was able to make something remarkable that's touched so many people and inspired so much." He rubbed the back of his head and smiled. "Reminds me of another group of people I know."

"Mike…" She chuckled, feeling her face grow warm. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. I just don't think we're Van Gogh levels of art."

"Maybe, maybe not. But you all still tried your best to make people smile and have a good time, even if your own situation was pretty bad. It didn't stop you from trying to make other people's lives better. Y-You certainly did with mine." He shrugged again and looked away, laughing awkwardly. "Th-That's what I think anyway."

Chica couldn't help it. She wrapped Mike in the closest, tightest hug she could manage, her eyes brimming with tears of utter joy. They held each other, surrounded by the swirling colours of the night sky. In that moment, she couldn't remember a time she had felt so happy and so cherished.

It was shattered when she saw the clock behind him and what time it was. Nearly quarter to one. Nearly forty-five minutes longer than she'd intended for them here.

"OH NO!" A few people turned their heads at how loud she was, but she didn't care. "We need to go, right now!"

They dashed out of the exhibit, hurrying out of the door. The one saving grace was that their next destination, a small independent café for lunch, was just across the street from the gallery. But as they'd gone well over the original plan, they'd be arriving well into the lunch rush, which she'd hoped to avoid. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

That hope was very much dashed when the woman at the front seating tables told them that, unfortunately, they were all filled up, with more people coming all the time. They'd need to wait at least half an hour for another table.

"Please, you have to be able to fit us in somewhere!" begged Chica.

"I'm sorry, miss, but there's nothing I can do," she said sadly. "Look, if you wait, a table might be available sooner but I really can't guarantee that. I'm sorry."

She could feel the tears coming on, her chest tightening and her breathing increasing in frequency. She had enough of a mind to hurry out before she made a scene, press herself against a wall outside and slide down it to the ground.

"Hey Chica, it's okay." Mike knelt to join her. "W-We can just find somewhere else to eat."

"But Mike, even if we do, the timings have been completely thrown off for everything else! We won't be able to do everything else I planned out!"

"Then we can just do those things another day. It'll be-"

"It won't be fine because I don't know if we'll have another day!"

Mike frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? I-I don't understand."

Chica looked up at him, dread beginning to set in. She hadn't told Mike everything about what Goldie had said to them. She hoped she wouldn't have to. But it looked like that wasn't an option anymore.

"Mike…" She took a deep breath, pulling the timetable out of her pocket. "I'm… I'm scared. We don't know what's going to happen when w-we face Sid. Not even if… if we're all going to come back. I-I wanted to make today something special, to try and do as much as we could. I… I don't know how much time we have left. Or if we'll ever…" She bowed her head. "It's not fair… I want more time. I need more time but…"

She scrunched up the timetable in her hand and buried her head in her arms. She didn't know how long she stayed like that for, until she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. There was nothing in his eyes but concern and compassion. He still had his smile. He was holding out a hand to her, gesturing to the one that held the timetable.

"Chica, I… I'm sorry, this is going to sound really cheesy but…" He cleared his throat. "You know what's made this day special to me? I mean, this timetable has helped but it wouldn't be much use without the person who wrote it up." He stared vacantly across the street. "I hated being in prison. It was… horrible. But one thing it did was give me some perspective. I spent so much time, being so hung up on Lidiya. I thought she'd be the only woman I'd ever… well, love. Until I met you. So, even if we don't know how much time we have left, that shouldn't stop us from enjoying what we have right now. If uh, that makes sense."

Silence passed between them. She stared, utterly dumbfounded. He sat, nervously glancing between her and anything else nearby.

"You… you love me?" she whispered.

"W-Well… yeah," he murmured. "Who wouldn't? I-I wanted to wait for a good time to tell you but… I think I've spent long enough waiting, right?"

Chica hummed in agreement, then she grabbed him and kissed him full on the lips.

Once again, the whole world seemed to fall away. The sounds of the cars and people walking by, it all faded into the background. The only ones in that moment were the two of them. Once again, all the dread and foreboding Chica had in the back of her mind suddenly didn't seem so bad. Because what was coming wasn't here yet. But they were.

"Mike…" She tried to find the right words when they broke apart. Only one thing came to mind. "You're right. That was cheesy."

"Hey, as Queen of Pizza, I thought you'd approve of cheesy," he retorted.

"Well, you're right. The Queen of Pizza certainly does approve." She snuggled into his side. "Thank you. I-I'm sorry I got so caught up in it. I don't want to spoil our day."

He ruffled her hair through her headscarf. "You haven't, don't worry. If anything, I thought I might end up doing the spoiling. Wouldn't be the first time I did something stupid."

"You're not alone in that regard, Mike. That's just what makes us, well, human."

"Yes. Yes, it does." He looked right into her eyes when he said this. "Now, how about we get up before uh, people start giving us change?"

"Good idea." They stood up and brushed themselves down. "In hindsight, I really should have tried to book in advance or something."

"Hey, at least you know for next time."

She wanted to ask how he knew there would be a next time. But she pushed away that doubt and nodded.

"Okay, new plan," she said, taking the timetable back from him. "Let's just try and do the things on here, but not worry about how long we spend."

"Hey, for once, you were the one doing all the worrying."

"You mean you weren't worried about me?"

"I mean, worried about you trying to give me a very literal run for my money, yeah."

"Shush you. Oh and Mike?" She pulled him in close and whispered in his ear, "I love you too."

Giving him another kiss on the cheek, she relished in earning another blush and flustered stuttering from him. Then, arm in arm, they set off together.