She clung to his arm as they walked to the restaurant through the chilly November air. It felt good to stroll down the street like two regular people just going to share a meal and each other's company. No stares, no muttering, no cursing, no hissing or spitting. He was definitely not home, he thought with a smile.

Upon arrival, they were greeted warmly and led to their table somewhere to the side of the restaurant, out of the way from the bustling entrance.

"This is quite fitting for a first date, don't you think?" she asked as they sat down.

"I have no idea. I wasn't joking when I said I haven't been on a date in a while. Not really sure what's expected."

"Relax, it just means we're having dinner and talking."

"In that case, this isn't really our first date. We've done both... and more... plenty of times." He picked up the menu and started looking through the options.

"Yes, we've been kind of doing things out of order and we're anything but a typical couple, but tonight I wanted to feel normal."

"Not sure I know how that feels," he admitted. "I'm more used to hearing ominous whispers around me from customers warning each other that the Butcher of Blaviken was having a drink next to them."

She grimaced at his words. Five minutes in and he was already spoiling the mood by opening a whole can of worms she didn't need to know about.

"They call you the Butcher of Blaviken? You don't strike me as a butcher nor a man who would tolerate his reputation being tarnished."

"Well, then you'd be wrong on both accounts. I am a butcher in their eyes and I can't afford to fight off all that badmouth me either. It would leave the world a rather empty place."

"Somehow I doubt you deserve the name and yet, I hear guilt in your voice."

Her eyes searched his face; she might not be reading his mind, but she was still trying to discern the reason for his guilt. And boasting a name like that, who wouldn't?

They were interrupted by the waiter taking their order, and Geralt waited for him to step out of earshot before replying.

"Maybe I think the name is well earned." He sighed. "I had to make a choice and I'll never know if it was the right one, just as she prophesied. Lesser, greater, middling, all evil feels the same once you choose it. A battered princess turned murderer, a sadistic wizard thinking himself a saviour, we all have our excuses for doing the things we do, but that doesn't help us escape the consequences of our actions." He shook his head and looked at her. He was pointlessly philosophising again. "Not great first date material, huh?"

"If you think you're alone in your dilemmas and regrets, you're not. I understand more than you know," she replied seriously.

"No offence, but you seem too... nice to understand."

"Really? You've already put a label on me?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps you shouldn't rush to do that." She hummed. "I'll make you another promise: I won't judge, but I'd like you to tell me the whole story."

"Better not. Maybe I'm selfish, but I like the way you look at me now and I don't want it to change. I'd hate to see the same dreaded look in your eyes, the one that's so ever-present back home."

She smiled a bitter smile. For a moment she looked to the side, and he thought he saw shame, but when she held his eyes again, no trace of it remained.

"You think too highly of me if you think I haven't my fair share of regrets and things I'd rather forget, just like anyone else. Wisdom comes with lessons learned and some of those lessons leave deep scars. I've earned mine and they're well deserved."

"You're speaking of your time with the Aen Elle?" She nodded. "What could you have done at 17 to warrant such torture and think it deserved?"

"No point to go into details. Suffice it to say, I almost made a deal with the wrong... person, for entirely the wrong reasons. I thought myself invincible, roaming the planes of existence in search of ways to harness magic in all forms. I had been warned, but I didn't take heed, young and prideful as I was, I thought I could stand on the edge of the dark abyss, stare into the void and dare it to challenge me like I could take on the world alone. In a screwed up way, the Aen Elle did me a service by catching me in their web before I had a chance to sign the bottom line."

"There's a reason people call these mistakes of the youth. It's no reason to think you deserve what happened to you."

"Maybe not, and I'm not trying to excuse what they did. It was cruel and savage, but, in the grand scheme of things, it was simply a reminder of my own mortality and a warning. I saw what thirst for power leads to, what I could become and what I could lose if I continued down the same path - there's a reason they lost the Gate of Worlds. And I don't mean only magic, but my humanity and compassion. To stop at nothing and justify anything, to be able to draw screams from someone and relish their pain and helplessness..."

He squeezed her hand to draw her out of her dark memories lest she fall in too deep.

"There's no need to relive it."

"Remembering helps me, keeps me from making that mistake again. Those experiences, however harsh they may have felt at the time, served their purpose and curbed my ambitions, albeit by the time I understood it was already too late. And that's only one of my mistakes. I've made many others over time. You and Ciri are still stuck living with the consequences of one of them. Of my cowardice."

"No one expected you to face down the Red Riders on our account. I'm grateful for your help, then and now."

She shook her head and pulled her hand back.

"Ciri is facing them now, and it's partly my fault. I could have done more and I know it. Had I stood with you then, perhaps things would be different now."

What could he say? That he forgave her? That he understood? That he had many of the same regrets himself? So many had been led to their death following him. Milva, Cahir, Angouleme, Regis, Vesemir. Maybe she would be next. He held himself responsible for each and every one of them. Living with guilt was an all too familiar feeling. He said nothing.

"What I've done is something I cannot change, how I choose to use and interpret that experience and what I choose to make of myself, now that's something I have some control over."

"So we're back to choices."

"Always. Lesser, greater, middling evil might seem the same to your conscience, but it's not the same to the others it affects and not choosing is a choice in itself that may feel just as bad. Now, please tell me about the choice you had to make."

Seeing no way around it, he told her about Renfri and Stregobor, the curse of the black sun, and everything that ensued. He spared no detail and, to his surprise, he saw no judgment in her eyes, not for sleeping with her, not for killing her, not for protecting her body once she died nor leaving without burying her.

"It was a terrible choice indeed. I don't envy you for having to be the one to make it. I wish I could say something optimistic or promise that the future won't hold any more moral dilemmas, but that would mean lying to you."

"Don't worry, I'm not looking for empty reassurance."

She smiled and looked behind him.

"Our dinner is coming. Perhaps we should change the subject to something lighter, more fitting a first date scenario?"

"I agree."

The waiter set the plates and drinks in front of them and left after asking if they needed anything else.

"Tell me about your family. You asked about mine, so I think it would be only fair to know something about yours as well."

"Fair enough," she agreed. "To be honest, that would normally be something worthy of a first date conversation." She gave him a wide smile. "It's just that I should warn you, it's not as spectacular as you might expect. I don't have any special lineage that I know of. You're far more interesting than me in that regard. My family is as vanilla as they come... Downright boring compared to what you must be used to."

"Tell me anyway."

"Fine, since it fits so well with us spending an evening as a normal couple," she agreed. "Although, I'm not even sure what I should say. If you were a normal man, I'd tell you what they do for a living."

"So do that. Tonight I'm just your date and not a witcher," he said with the most charming smile.

"Right now they're both retired, but my mom used to be a surgeon whilst my dad was an architect. Her eyesight is not what it used to be, so now she's content gardening and going on vacations. They're both very kind people, but my mom can be... too outspoken at times. Other than that, they're perfectly normal elderly folks."

"So you got your penchant for healing from her and your... day job from him."

"Never thought of it like that, but yes, I guess that's fair to say."

"I presume that means you had a normal childhood… Well, as normal as can be, given your situation."

"Mhm, they did their best they could, but they were both busy people and many times they had to put their work first. Probably for the best. Had they been home more, they might have noticed how strange I was. The only one who noticed I was odd was my gran. Everyone else thought I had imaginary friends... but not her. Fortunately, my parents wrote it off as the overactive imagination of a child and my gran as a superstitious old woman. Little did they know..." she laughed.

"You were talking to imaginary people?"

She thought for a second before answering him. "Not imaginary, his name is Sama'. Probably not first date material either," she added with an awkward smile.

"Maybe not, but guessing from your hesitation, he's important somehow."

"Yes, he's important but... definitely falls out of the normal category."

"You're being vague and it's making me worry. Is he someone I should worry about?"

"Worry?" She gave out a short chipper laugh as it dawned on her what he meant. "He's not competition, if that's what you're afraid of. I'd have never gotten in bed with you had that been the case. I'm not in the habit of stringing men along or cheating on them."

"But you spoke of him in the present. So I assume he's still... around?"

Geralt looked to his side as if he was expecting someone to appear out of thin air next to them, not that it would have surprised him at this point. No matter how much they played at being normal, they weren't, and the more they tried, the more apparent it was that they were failing.

"Not all the time, but he has a habit of popping up when I need him. You'll likely meet him at some point if you stick around long enough."

"So if he's not your partner... Then what does he want from you?"

"Want might not be the best word. He presents options, but if you put it like that, he wants me to do my job."

"Which is? I assume it's not building a house."

"You already know I'm a healer."

"That's giving me an answer without giving me an answer. I know you're more than just a healer. Last Saturday was proof of that and I'm willing to bet there's more where that came from."

"That was an exception I made for you and something I hadn't done in a long time. It's a side I rarely show others."

"Then I feel honoured you trusted me that much."

"I did and I still do. Even if it's not logical in any conventional way and that frightens me."

"It shouldn't. I won't break your trust." He smiled reassuringly. "And I'd like to know more about you and... your job, I believe you called it."

She sighed and looked like she was trying to find the best words to explain. "It's not unlike what you do. There are many worlds and each of them has a different degree of good and evil in it. Evil is allowed to manifest itself up to a point, beyond that someone has to intervene to thin its ranks lest it grows out of control and spreads out."

"And that someone is you?"

"You give me far too much credit. There are others better suited for fighting. I mostly just use my healing abilities to help keep them safe while they do it."

"So it's dangerous."

"Of course, injuries are a normal occurrence. But none have died under my watch." His skeptical look made her continue. "But that doesn't mean it's impossible if that's what you want to know."

"Mhm, and does this happen often? I mean you going off on these... jobs."

"It's not every day, but often enough, there are plenty of worlds and plenty of evil as well." She paused. "For now, while you're still bound to me, I can't go anywhere. So you needn't worry about me dying any time soon."

"It's not like what I do is safe, so I suppose we'll just have to worry about each other... and kiss like there's no tomorrow whenever one of us leaves on a job."

"Geralt, I do believe you're a romantic!" She grabbed his hand and beamed at him.

"Don't tell anyone else," he joked. "The Butcher of Blaviken has a certain sound to it and we wouldn't want to lose that, right?"

"No, indeed, we must protect your fierce reputation," she chimed in, laughing.

The waiter came over to their table once they finished their food, asking if they wanted to order dessert.

"I'll just have a glass of whiskey."

"I'll have the cheesecake." The waiter picked up the menus and moved away.

"What is it with you and sweets? You don't seem to enjoy them at all. Is that a witcher thing or are you just trying to keep in shape?"

"I like my desserts just like I like everything else, with a little edge to them," he answered, smiling. "Must be why I like your sour cherry cake." And you, he added to himself.

His smile turned into a frown only a second later.

"What is it?" she asked, intrigued.

"Looks like rain," he explained with a displeased look on his face.

"You... heard it from over here?" She was trying to stretch her neck to catch a glimpse through the window, but they were too far from the entrance. "Well, maybe it'll stop soon, there's no rush to leave. Meanwhile, you can tell me more about your commissions. I'm sure you have some marvellous stories."

"I thought we were playing at being normal."

"I think that ship sailed when I started talking about Sama' and my job. Let's just be ourselves for the rest of the night."

While he thought of an appropriate story that wouldn't risk ruining the mood, the waiter brought them dessert and his whiskey. He took a sip, then swirled the drink around the glass, making the ice clatter as he began the story of Nivellan and Vereena. It wasn't a completely happy story, few of his stories were - if any - but it held the hope of love even for the foulest of creatures. She was listening to him with keen interest.

"Amazing! So she really did truly love him!"

"Mhm." He nodded. "So it appeared... Who would have thought her capable of love? I almost felt sorry he killed her... almost."

She looked at the time, and he could tell by her expression that it was late.

"Did the rain stop?" she asked. She had finished her dessert a while ago and he was on his third glass. He shook his head.

"It's still going and, by the sound of it, it has no plan of stopping any time soon. I imagine you could stop it if you wanted to..."

"I could, but that might disrupt the weather pattern and cause more damage in the long run." She paused to think. "No, we'll just have to get rained on, it's getting late and we can't wait all night for the weather to improve."

Geralt nodded. He had no qualms about a few drops of water; he was used to riding through rain, gale, snow or just about any weather, for that matter. But when they moved through the restaurant heading for the door and she caught a glimpse of the pouring rain outside, her face told him she wasn't thrilled she had to walk through it.

As the door closed behind them, he took off his jacket, put one arm around her and threw it over them while holding it with his other hand.

"Ready to make a run for it?" he asked her, smiling. She blushed and nodded as he pulled her tighter into his side.

They began walking slowly; he let her set the pace that was comfortable for her but soon they picked up speed, spurred on by the downpour. The jacket kept their faces dry, but the rain made their clothes stick to their skin and splashed over their legs as they ran. Still, nothing could wipe the smiles off both their faces.

They stopped in front of their building, under the cover of the metal and glass canopy above the entrance. She laughed and threw the jacket off them. Her hands circled his neck as she pressed up against him and kissed him with all the fire in the world. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was tipsy, she just seemed so happy and careless. He put the jacket around her shoulders, his lips still glued to hers, and his arms pulled her flush to his body.

"Mmm, you taste of whiskey and sin." She smiled lustfully before kissing him again, her soft tongue exploring unhurriedly. His hands slid down her back and grabbed her ass through her soaking wet dress, and she moaned into his mouth. So strange that such a little thing as that small sound had such a powerful effect on him. He deepened the kiss and almost got lost in her, until one glance over her shoulder made him pull away.

"Maybe we should go up, they're staring at us." He smiled and made a discreet motion with his head towards the staff that was peering through the glass door. But as she turned to look at them, they all suddenly pretended to be busy with something else.

"They're not subtle at all, are they?" she commented, smiling. "Let's go get out of these wet clothes."

She took his hand and walked into the lobby with him. One girl on staff wished them a good evening with a grin on her face; it was obvious what they all thought. Unbothered by their knowing looks, they hurried to the elevator, and he held her in a tight embrace until they got in. As soon as he let go, she looked as if she was about to start shivering any minute and, sure enough, a moment later he heard her teeth clatter and, from there, her trembling only got worse. He tried rubbing her shoulders to warm her up, but his efforts yielded no results.

"A hot shower is what you need right now," he stated as the elevator door opened and they had to get off. Her shivering was so bad she couldn't even speak, let alone walk, so he just picked her up and carried her to the door. With shaking fingers, she found the card in her purse and waved it in front of the reader to open the door, then nuzzled her face into his chest as he carried her in, closed the door with his leg and took her straight into the shower.

He took off her shoes and kicked off his own before turning on the hot water. That appeared to instantly cure her shivering, so he finally set her down. She undressed under the running water, throwing the soaking wet clothes on the bathroom floor, and he did the same.

"So how did that rank among your first date experiences?" he asked curiously.

"It was the best one yet!" she answered, laughing. "We couldn't manage to be normal, but I guess we are who we are and we're just not meant to be normal!" She threw off the last of her clothes and started washing the dirt that had splashed over her legs when she ran through the puddles.

He stayed with her in the shower until he was sure she wouldn't start to tremble again, then they wrapped themselves in towels. She picked up the discarded clothing items, wrung the water out of them as best she could and hung them out to dry.

"I guess we need to go shopping tomorrow," she mused. "You're going to need another suit for the double date."

"Criss..." She turned her head, and he hesitated. "How long will it be until I won't need to be around you all day?"

The downright disappointed look she gave him made him realize just how awful his question had sounded.

"That didn't come out right... I don't mean that I don't enjoy your company, but... I'd like to make myself useful and maybe find a job."

Her eyes swept the floor as she was giving serious thought to her answer.

"You've been improving quite fast. In maybe a week or two, you should be able to go the entire day without seeing me." She sighed. "I get why you ask, but what you want is very complicated. You'd need a real ID to get a job, a bank account or anything else. I can't help with that. This isn't some movie where I know a guy that can get you a fake ID."

"You could magically produce one..."

"The item itself, I could produce. The problem is, I can't create a real identity for you. If anyone checks… and they will check, they'll realize fast enough that you don't exist here."

"Then maybe I could find something that pays cash..."

"No one pays cash for legit work. If it pays cash, it's either dangerous or illegal or both at the same time. I'd rather you did nothing of the sort. I still need to get you back to Ciri in one piece."

"I just don't like you having to pay for..."

"It's not a big deal. I won't go poor anytime soon and besides, you'll have plenty of opportunities to return the favour once we get back to your world."

Her answers were most disappointing. He had planned to be more independent once it was possible. Otherwise, he feared he'd grow unhappy in this situation. A kept man was no man at all in his eyes, but it wasn't like he had any choice. For now, he preferred to focus on the silver lining. Apparently, he was improving faster than expected and, by that logic, in a few weeks he could be home.

He heard her yawn and looked at her tired face.

"Come on, time to get you into bed," he told her decisively.

She took it as an invitation to do other things and pulled on the jewelled hairpin that was still holding her bun up; her dark hair unravelled, spilling onto her shoulders and back. It made her look so unreal, so beautiful. His magical little nymph. She approached him seductively and caressed his face. So irresistible. So fragile. He leaned in and kissed her gently, then moved away, his instinct to care for her overpowering the lust he felt.

"I was thinking we could just sleep. You look like you need it."

"Oh, stop it with the compliments, you're making me blush!" She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I just meant..."

"I know what you meant and you're right, of course. Plus, I wouldn't want you to think I'm easy by putting out on the first date." She laughed again and headed to bed with him behind her, watching the sway of her hips as usual.

She scooted closer to him until she was resting in his arms, her hand on his chest. He felt the warmth of the energy that coursed through her and into him and heard her happy sigh. With her cheek pressed up against his chest, she was asleep within minutes.

As usual, the energy transfer invigorated him, so he stayed up a little while longer. His fingers ran through her hair and his lips touched the top of her head. He took a deep breath and let himself drown in her scent. She never wavered from her apples, caramel, and lime perfume, but there was always something underneath it that smelled like her more than any fragrance could. Something that made her so very distinguishable from anyone else, so much so that he'd be able to pick her out in any crowd with his eyes closed. He couldn't describe it, it was simply her.

His eyes drifted over her soft skin, the roundness of her shoulders, the curve of her back. She looked so untouched, pristine. Yet, nothing could be farther from the truth. While he wore his scars on his skin for all to see, she had hers hidden deep down. She had been hurt, and he'd never be able to know how deep those scars ran. How could she be so fragile and so resilient at the same time? She was full of contradictions he couldn't reconcile. She couldn't stop shivering from the icy rain, yet he had sensed the power behind her when they were inside the construct she created. And her job was nothing short of dangerous. Appearances could deceive and that was something that still worried him, despite his growing affection for her. No, he stopped himself; he would not let himself reach for the darkest possibilities with no cause.

He buried his nose in her hair and waited for sleep to come.