Aaron inspected his bottle of red wine thoughtfully as he urged himself along the driveway. 'Did I buy something fancy enough?' he wondered. 'At least I didn't get the own brand stuff, but what if it tastes vile? It's not like it's a vintage or anything…'

'No,' he decided. 'It's definitely good enough.'

'But what if it's too fancy?' he added. 'We are students, after all. What if she thinks I spent too much on her and is freaked out because of it?'

Without realising, Aaron found that he had already rung the doorbell. Butterflies flapped in Aaron stomach as the door opened gradually.

"Hi," Delilah said, flusteredly.

"Hello," Aaron replied. "I love that dress," he offered, glancing quickly at the velvet green dress which provided a perfect complementary backdrop to the ends of her flaming red hair. "You look great in it."

"Thanks," Delilah replied. "What have you got there?"

"I brought wine," Aaron announced, nervously showing Delilah the bottle.

"Ah, that's so sweet of you," Delilah said, her face a little cold.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked.

Delilah sighed. "The curry," she said. "It's… it's not what I had hoped."

"Really? What's wrong with it?" Aaron asked.

"Let me show you." Delilah turned around, beckoning for Aaron to join her inside.

"I love this kitchen," Aaron said, noting the surprisingly clean open plan kitchen and living room. At the far end sat a wooden table with candles waiting to be lit, whilst the stove presented a smoky mess inside a wok.

"I like it too," Delilah said. "But look. I think I burnt our curry!"

Aaron inspected the contents of the wok. "Some of the veggies are a little seared," he said. "But it smells alright. What have you used to season it?"

"It doesn't matter," Delilah muttered, glumly. "It was a bad idea."

"I said I would be your guinea pig," Aaron said, placing a hand gently upon Delilah's shoulder and chuckling a little. "Signing up to something like that means I should be aware of the possibility of not everything going perfectly. I like that you're trying something adventurous on me."

"No good now though, is it?" Delilah sighed. "I'll order us a takeaway."

"A takeaway?" Aaron said. "But you've gone to all that trouble…"

"I want us to enjoy something edible."

Aaron's other hand met with Delilah's other shoulder. "Why don't we have a go at fixing it?" he suggested.

"Are you a miracle worker?" Delilah asked.

Aaron chuckled. "Show me your spices," he said.

Delilah opened a cupboard. "All I have is what's in here and what's on the counter," she explained.

Aaron examined the interior of the cupboard. "That's an impressive selection you've got there," he said. "But they're mostly unopened?"

"I bought most of them specially so I could start cooking more from scratch," Delilah explained. "I used to have about four."

"There's got to be something we can do then," Aaron said. "Curry is about flavouring anyway, so some slightly ruined vegetables aren't going to make a huge difference."

"That's a good point," Delilah said.

Instinctively, Aaron's nose pierced through the burning smell as he added water to the concoction, all the while selecting which of the collection of flavours would fit those that he could already smell.

"Here," Aaron said after much tinkering, dipping a teaspoon in the curry and offering the handle to Delilah. "What do you think?"

Delilah wrapped her mouth around the teaspoon. "Wow," she said. "That's quite a smoky texture, but… it works."

"I used the smokiness of the overcooked vegetables to assist with the flavouring," Aaron explained, with a satisfied smile upon his face.

"That's brilliant," Delilah said. She spread out an arm towards the table. "Go on. Take a seat. I'll serve up."

Aaron picked up his wine and walked towards the table, sitting down in front of one of the two placemats. Quickly, Delilah brought two plates of curry, rice, and naan bread towards the table, placing one of them in front of Aaron before lighting the candles and taking the seat opposite him.

"Wine?" Aaron offered, holding the bottle over Delilah's wine glass.

"Thanks," Delilah smiled. Aaron poured the drink into the glass, before moving onto his own. Delilah placed some of the food into her mouth. "You really rescued this," she said. "I'd almost say it's good!"

"Thank you very much," Aaron said, cheerily tasting the food. The smoky flavour certainly complemented the charred vegetables.

"We've got the place to ourselves tonight," Delilah explained.

"Really?" Aaron replied. "How did you pull that off?"

"It was quite simple really. There was only ever three of us living here to start with. One dropped out of uni earlier this year. And the other is… well… Tia. You won't be hearing from her tonight. I don't really hear from her most nights, actually."

"Must get lonely."

"Sometimes. But I find things to do. I get out a little. I go to Latin and Ballroom every week with Tia, which we both enjoy. That and the occasional get together with my physics friends."

"So what do you do when you're in by yourself?"

"I've made a lot of headway through a novel I'm writing."

"That's interesting. What's it about?"

"It's a sci-fi. I'm still on the first draft. It's supposed to be a realistic exploration of what space colonisation would actually be like – inspired by my physics course – wow I must sound like such a nerd!"

"Nerdy's ok with me."

"Oh, good." Delilah paused for a moment, staring into the darkness of the window beside the table. "I was working on it last night it suddenly went…" Delilah buried her face in her hands.

"Delilah?" Aaron said, wrapping his hand around her arm. "What's wrong?"

"A non-sentient object came to life and started attacking the crew," Delilah explained.

Aaron's face dropped. "Oh," he said.

"Yeah…"

"How have you been finding it? You know… since our last date?"

Delilah sighed. "I've had nightmares," she admitted. "I find myself wondering, what would have happened if the mannequin that walked into the shop after us hadn't suddenly switched off when it did? Would it have found us? Would we still be alive? And then my dreams try to tell me that it would have found us…" Delilah pressed her hands against the sides of her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "We're supposed to be on a date. I'll stop talking about it."

"It's ok," Aaron said. "At least this is better than what happened on our last date."

Delilah looked up at Aaron and smiled softly. "Yeah," she said. "You know, I always survive in the dreams."

"Why?" Aaron asked.

"You always save me," Delilah said.

Aaron felt a little warm under his collar. "Oh."

"That probably sounded really cheesy. I'm sorry."

"No, I like it," Aaron admitted. "I'm not sure it's so accurate, but…"

Delilah looked at Aaron as she shovelled another forkful of curry into her mouth. "Isn't it?" she asked.

"Ok, maybe I helped save the curry," Aaron admitted. "But that's not the same as saving your life. My nightmare is that the mannequins return and I'm called out to fight them instead of…"

"Instead of…"

"Finishing my degree and living out my life in peace," Aaron finished. "What if I die in action or have to move to America or Brighton or something?"

"Brighton?"

"Yeah." Aaron leaned back in his seat. "If I were a superhero, I'd be Bugman. All I'd ever do would be to travel around London fixing people's code."

A loud chortle exploded from Delilah's mouth. "Or their curries," she suggested.

"When all the bugs are fixed," Aaron declared.

"Would take one hell of a guy to fix every bug," Delilah smiled.

"Sadly true," Aaron agreed, sipping on his wine once more. "Do you mind if I use your toilet?"

"Upstairs, first door on the left."

"Thanks." Aaron rose from his seat, noting his empty plate. "And thanks for cooking."

"That's quite alright. Thanks for fixing my disaster."

"It was nothing." Quickly, Aaron scuttled away upstairs, not taking long to return to the living room to find Delilah sat on the sofa by the door, her legs stretched out onto the coffee table, next to the two wine glasses.

"We're on the sofa now?" Aaron observed, taking a seat beside Delilah.

"Thought it might be more comfortable than dining chairs," Delilah said, picking up the wine. "Refill?"

"Thanks," Aaron said, raising his glass towards Delilah and watching the wine pour in.

"Cheers," Delilah said, chinking her glass against Aaron's. Aaron stared into his own glass as he drank from it briefly, his arms tense.

"You know what I don't quite get about you," Delilah said, curling up against Aaron and wrapping her arm around the rear of his shoulders.

"What don't you get about me?" Aaron dared to look at Delilah, his face now centimetres from hers.

"Someone who can fix a curry like you did tonight didn't get to that point without trying out some bold flavour combinations."

"I like to experiment with food," Aaron explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You've had some disasters too?"

Aaron nodded. "Of course. But that's a part of the process."

"And yet you're telling me that your greatest fear is the possibility of moving to Brighton," Delilah said.

Aaron shrugged. "I guess I like it here in London."

"That's fine, I like London too," Delilah replied. "But how can a person be so ready to try things out in the kitchen whilst caring so little for adventure that moving to Brighton is daunting to you?"

Aaron pondered for a moment. "Because I like good food, and I like being creative. And I know that creating good food is going to improve my life and the lives of those around me for years to come. But leaving London, even for a moment? London is where my life is. My family. My friends. Plenty of opportunity to find that simple, but enjoyable job I can keep doing forever until it is time to go home and spend time with the people I care about, or enjoy the things I like to do. Like cooking."

Delilah wound a finger playfully through the back of Aaron's curly hair as she leaned her head towards his shoulder. "So you want to live your simple life in London forever?"

"Not necessarily," Aaron said, moving his head closer to Delilah's. "It's just that it would take something… or someone… really special to bring me out of that life willingly."

"But if you found something or someone that special then you would definitely want to go?"

Aaron smiled. His nose was touching Delilah's. "You know what," he said, as their mouths drew ever closer. "I would."

"You're still up?" Aaron observed as he entered the kitchen, beaming from ear to ear.

"It's only 1am," Ricky objected, indicating towards the bacon cooking on the hob. "I get hungry." He paused. "I'm sorry, mate."

Aaron cocked his head confusedly. "Why?"

"Well, you went on a third date in her house and you're already back!" Ricky stopped for a moment. "Why do you look so happy?"

"I think we're really connecting," Aaron said. "And… woah… I've never made out with a girl like that before in all my life. We were at it for hours!"

"That's just tragic," Ricky muttered.

"You might be content going out and bringing back whatever girl you happen to find, or just dating around for the fun of it," Aaron said, firmly. "But I'd like to actually find someone who I can settle down with and form a life with."

"Why?" Ricky responded. "You're nineteen. You've got your whole life ahead of you!"

"And I want to make the most of it," Aaron insisted.

"Mate…" Ricky's eyes darted from side to side. "Do you want to spend your whole life going to work in London, coming home, spending time with the family, eating dinner and going to bed, or do you want to get out there and see what life has to offer you?"

"The first one," Aaron said, unflinchingly. "Definitely the first one."

"Fine, you've convinced me." Ricky moved towards Aaron, placing his hand upon Aaron's shoulder. "You do you, I guess. But, even in the unlikely case that you've found somebody your own age willing to do the same thing, it's never going to happen unless you're moving forwards."

"We did move forwards!" Aaron replied, adamantly. "We're just doing so at our own pace."

"I suppose you did," Ricky mused. "Well, I can't stop you making your own mistakes. At least this isn't quite the silliest conversation I've had this evening."

"Ok," Aaron said. "Now I have to ask. What was the silliest?"

"Olivia's found some info on those mannequins. She says they're called Autons or something."

"What an unimaginative name."

"I know! It gets better. They were automated by some alien being called the… er… something or other consciousness. Apparently, it's been to Earth twice before in the seventies. Or somewhere around then. She was a little hazy on the dates."

"I thought the mannequins were being controlled remotely by using a goo buried underneath the London Eye?"

"Well, nobody could work out who was controlling the goo, which means, according to Olivia, the goo was an alien being."

Aaron chuckled quietly. "Guess that's the only possible explanation then."

"That girl's good for a laugh," Ricky muttered.

"She is indeed." Aaron glanced at his watch. "I'd better get to bed."

"Careful," Ricky warned. "You'll screw up your sleep schedule!"

Aaron laughed to himself continuously as he ambled down the corridor, his wide smile persistently glued to his face.