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Author's note: Told you I'd have another chapter up soon! I also have another one written >> Huzzah

Chapter Five: Nene Gets a Date

Nene studied her reflection in the mirror, her blue eyes blinking back at her from beneath lilac-painted lids. How did she get herself into this? Dating Macky – her heart skipped a beat – just seemed completely out of place.

She remembered when she'd first realized that she liked him. She'd forced herself out of that frame of mind, insisting that eventually the age difference would just be too great – too awkward. The fact that he was a boomer never really had anything to do with her decision. They were biological, after all, and some well-engineered ones could even reproduce!

She blushed at the thought, attempting to banish it from her mind. Now Macky had figured out how to make himself age. He now knew how to keep up with her. Or, as he'd said, how to grow old with her.

"I can't believe he said that!" She squealed in frustration, banging a hand against the mirror to distract herself from the image of her reddening cheeks. "For crying out loud, he's making it sound like he did this all for me!" Her fingers bent against the glass, stopping midway. She watched herself bite her lip, shaking her head in dismay.

"Don't be stupid, Nene," she muttered, pulling away from the mirror.

She felt like crying. Never before had someone managed to make her feel so confused and conflicted, frightened and excited at the same time. Then again, he also made her feel warm and comfortable and safe. It was like a bittersweet curse.

There was no denying it. Macky was sweet, talented, and oh so adorable. She shut her eyes, not liking where her thoughts were leading her. She stood, rocking back and forth on her feet, taking calming breaths.

Then her eyes snapped open and she leapt across her bed, landing not so gracefully on it and reaching for the phone on her night-side table. Lifting it from its cradle, her thumb quickly darted across the pad, dialling out his number while digital beeps squeaked back at her.

One ring. Two.

"Please say he hasn't left yet …"

A knock at the door.

Another leap accompanied by a curse, and she found herself down the hall, the door open and the phone still pressed to her ear.

"I said seven," she mumbled, hanging up the line. Macky Stingray stood before her in all his glory, looking very much ready for a gala. Nene felt her breath catch in her throat. Had he always looked that good? Was it the few extra years, or the tuxedo? Or maybe both? It hugged his frame in all the right places, every corner and tuck done to perfection, with Sylia's help, most likely. His hair was the only thing out of place, still slightly messy. She noted that he'd opted to go without his bandana before remembering, guiltily, that she had it tucked away in her top drawer.

"I'm sorry I'm early. But Priss suggested I do it, else you'd take too long to get ready." His eyes wandered downwards and she could tell by his chest that he'd stopped breathing.

She knew she looked good. She was wearing a lavender spaghetti strap dress with a slit down the side and an open back. She'd picked it out with the goal of making heads turn and jaws drop. So why was it so much of a shock – and a pleasure – when Macky clearly enjoyed it?

"I'm not going," she blurted. It took Macky a few seconds to shake himself from whatever thoughts he'd been thinking and register what she'd said.

"I-I don't really feel like it. I tried to call, but you'd already left." The volume of her voice slowly lowered as she went on, the guilt crashing down on her as she saw the disappointment in his expression.

"Oh," he said. It was a good thing that he hadn't brought flowers. They probably would've wilted and died right in his hands at that moment. She hoped he would just turn and leave. She didn't want him to ask why. She didn't want to have to tell him she was afraid of what she might feel if she spent the night by his side, on his arm, dancing with him … No way. Far too dangerous.

"Well," Macky spoke, finally, and Nene readied herself for the worst, "I guess we'll stay in, then."

Nene sighed in relief, unable to believe her luck. Bless Macky for not asking questions and minding his own-

Wait. She stopped, her blood freezing in her veins. Had he just said "we"?

"What?" Nene mumbled, hopping she'd misheard.

"We can stay in, I don't mind. I have some money, we can order a pizza and watch a movie."

No doubt about it. He'd said "we."

Nene groaned inwardly. If being in public with him was dangerous, then being alone with him … in her apartment … her heartbeat quickened.

"All right, we'll go to the gala. Let me get my coat."

They stepped out into the crisp evening air, simulated crickets chirping away on either side of them. A year ago the city had decided to make residential areas seem more country-like, and odd bushes hid speakers from which wild noises emanated at night.

"Oh!" Macky said, "Umm … we can call a taxi." He gave her an apologetic look, like he should have thought of this and had a taxi waiting, but Nene shook her head.

"No, it's not far. Walking is fine."

They moved in an awkward silence, Nene holding her hands firmly before her, clasping her purse. Macky had forced his own into his pockets, looking much more comfortable than Nene felt.

"Do you want to go back?" He asked, suddenly. His voice was resigned and Nene turned to look at him, her gaze meeting his chest before she remembered to cock her head upwards.

"I'm going to have to get used to your new height," she smirked. Macky didn't smile.

"Nene, I won't lie. I really want to go to this gala with you." He said, his voice surprisingly stern. Nene swallowed, trying to look casual, but most likely failing miserably. Macky sighed.

"But not if you don't want to go with me," He said wistfully. He glanced back at her apartment. "So do you want to go back? Or go on without me?" His voice indicated beyond a doubt that he'd already accepted either option. Nene grasped her hands tightly, her knuckles whitening against her purse and her lips furrowing together.

"Macky," she started, and Macky brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes, looking away from her. He was ready for the worst. She took a breath, shaking her head in distress. This was too much. It had been so much easier when Macky was just a kid – just a friend. How could she possibly ignore him after what he'd done?

"Macky, you – you stupid little kid!" She shouted, suddenly. Macky blinked, surprised.

"I would have caved in and taken you to the stupid gala anyway! But then you go and hurt yourself just so you think I'll like you better. You were in so much pain …" She struggled to keep herself composed, but she felt hot tears boiling up from beneath her lids. She drew shaky breaths. "I thought you were going to die."

She was staring at his feet, now, at anything but him to keep herself from crying. It was stupid, of course. Macky was all right. But at the time …

She felt his arms wrap around her and found her face buried against his chest. She didn't fight it, slowly taking deep breaths until all threats of tears had vanished. Macky said nothing, but brought a hand up to her shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry," he said, sincerely. He sounded genuinely guilty, too.

"Of course I want you to come." Nene mumbled against his tuxedo, slowly pulling away. She cast him a broad grin. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

Macky smiled, shaking his head.

"It won't happen again, I've programmed myself to age normally from now on. Now, come on." He took her hand in his and led the way towards the Plaza, Nene following diligently behind.

"But," she protested, "With a good mechanic, you could have lived for a long time." Macky didn't bother to turn and look at her, and she wasn't sure he'd even intended for her to hear.

"But what does that mean to me if the people I care about are dead?"