Chapter 3

Within two weeks of having the conversation with Sasha, Grit found himself sitting in the back of a black car being driven towards an unknown destination. The decision to sign the paper had been a long and arduous one. Many times during his rounds, Grit found himself sitting with his feet up on his desk, rested against his orders with the paper in his hand. He read over the words on the paper multiple times, making sure that there was absolutely no chance of a misunderstanding. He came close to signing it many times before stopping himself to read it once more. It was one of the hardest decisions he had made in a very long time. Even commanding armies wasn't as hard as this, he thought. Even college wasn't as hard as this.

A week ago, he finally signed the paper to participate, and a week after that, here he was, being driven.

A black window, stopping Grit from being able to see the chauffer, blocked off the front of the car. The side windows were tinted, but the black of the night meant that Grit was unable to see anything outside of the window anyhow. Grit was dressed in a suit and maroon tie. Gone was his military coat and hat; his hair was brushed as neatly as it could be. Wisps of hair had resisted the combing, but overall, he didn't look too bad. Grit was cleanly shaven, dressed and ready to do a date.

But with who?

As the car continued to drive, Grit focused on all the sounds around him. He could hear the sounds of the indicator clicking away before the car turned; he sensed the shifting of gears. Sometimes, the car was fast, other times it was slow. Grit could only imagine where he was being taken to, and who would be sat opposite him in the car. Strangely enough, he didn't feel as nervous as he did when he signed the paper. Right now, it was just him and the car noises, and that was alright.

The car journey, which had started outside of Grit's base camp (he was coming straight from a shift), lasted about forty minutes before there was a space of a couple of minutes where the car remained at slow speeds. Grit clicked onto this fact and realized that any minute, the car could stop. He gripped the leather upholstery slightly with his hands and looked at his slightly untucked shirt: this was it. This was the moment that would define the night. How he wished he had his toothpick to chew on, he thought.

The car stopped and Grit could hear the chauffer's door opening. Footsteps. Suddenly, the sounds of heels clacking against a stone floor. This was it, he thought. The blind date was here.

As the door opened, Grit caught sight of the blind date. Dressed in a short white dress, he watched as she stepped into the car and sat down on the seat. In short, Grit was pleased.

"Why howdy, Sami!" he greeted as she sat down. A short smile broke out on Sami's face; Grit could tell that there was a sense of relief in the air.

"Hello, Grit!" Sami responded as the chauffer shut the door behind her. "Well, I wasn't expecting this!"

"Neither was I" Grit replied, watching as Sami belted herself in. "Had to admit, I was gettin' nervous" The two chuckled a little as they felt the engine of the car starting.

"Do you know where we're going?" Sami asked. Grit shrugged in response. He was still feeling a bit nervous; Grit struggled to keep his eyes off of her legs. They were rather radiant, even in the dimmed lights of the isolated backseat. She really had made an effort, he thought.

"No clue" Grit replied, leaning back in his seat. "It's gotta be somewhere good though, right?"

The talk throughout the car journey was small and sporadic. Neither wanted to say too much to each other; both were scared of the prospect of silence falling upon each other during the date. Despite initially feeling relaxed, Grit started to feel the gravity of the situation dawning on him. Looking towards Sami, who had taken a brief reprieve from their stop-start conversation to look out of the tinted windows, the questions filled Grit's head. Why were they going on a date? Surely there wasn't any tension between them in the first place? How easy was it going to be to talk about things that weren't related to war?

As Grit turned his head to the window to address his own thoughts, Sami turned her head to look at Grit. Questions of her own flew into her head independent of Grit's thoughts. How could this man be so calm? Was it going to be a good night? Was her hair fixed just the way she wanted it? What if it was Grimm who was sat on the other side of the car?

Eventually, the car came to a stop, and the two were snapped out of their thoughts. Looking around, Sami was about to start speaking when her car door opened, revealing the chauffer.

"We have arrived at Maison du Monde" he explained. Sami looked to Grit, whose eyebrows furrowed upon hearing the name. She chuckled slightly; Sami knew that Grit wasn't the kind for fancy or complicated names. His was a character that preferred simplicity.

As they undid their belts, Sami started to talk.

"This place looks nice" she commented, stepping out onto the wet pavement outside. Judging by the droplets of rain that had stuck to the car window, it had recently been raining. Grit awkwardly shuffled his way across the seats and exited the same door as Sami, which confused the chauffer a little. As he stood up straight, he dug into his pocket, pulling out a bill.

"Thanks for the ride" Grit thanked with a small, nervous smile, handing the chauffer the bill.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, we don't accept tips" the chauffer retaliated, waving his hand to dismiss the money.

"You sure?" Grit asked, hand still stretched out with the bill in hand. The chauffer shook his head in response, prompting Grit to shrug and put the money back in his pocket. The chauffer then produced a business card from his pocket, handing it to Grit.

"If you need my services, this is my card" the chauffer explained. As Sami started to head into the restaurant, Grit winked at the chauffer as a way of thanking him, before following Sami into the restaurant. Stepping on the boundary between indoors and outdoors, Grit examined the fancy décor inside the building. Anxious, he turned his head one last time to the outdoors, gulping and giving a sigh before turning around and allowing himself to be swallowed by the high life.