Chapter XVI: First Date Jitters
Logan and Agnes exited the bar (thankfully, both were still sober) and began the trek home. When they rounded the corner of the block, though, the air was pierced by a woman's scream. The two adults looked at each other, then ran toward the source of the scream, which came from the narrow alley behind the bar. The Hispanic waitress from earlier was laying on the ground and struggling as the buff African-American man on top of her was trying to tear open her clothes. His head was shaved and he wore a red ski jacket, black jeans, and beige hiking boots.
"HEY!" Logan yelled, causing the man to shoot to his feet and whip around. His face had a long, matted salt-and-pepper beard, and he scowled angrily at the interruption. "You leave that woman alone, or else!" Logan warned him.
"Mind your own business, boy! If you don't scram, I'll gut you like a fish and have two ladies all to myself!" the man growled, looking hungrily at Agnes. The waitress had stopped struggling and laid there in shock.
"Oh yeah? Says who?" Logan taunted.
"Says the guy with the knife, that's who!" the man responded and whipped out a three-inch switchblade. Logan surprised both the man and Agnes when he burst out laughing. "What? What's so funny?"
"That puny thing? That's not a knife, that's a toothpick!" Logan answered. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the ten-inch Bowie knife from the hidden sheath just below his left armpit. "This, my friend, is a knife!" In two quick lunges, Logan slashed open the arms of the man's ski jacket, causing the insulation to flutter to the ground like snow. Seeing that he was outmatched, the man wisely turned and fled.
Logan and Agnes helped the distraught waitress to her feet and walked with her back inside the bar, where the police were called. All three adults gave their testimonies, then Logan and Agnes were able to return home without further incident. After picking up Cristina and putting her to bed, they agreed on a day, time, and place for their first date and went to bed themselves.
...
In the morning, Logan treated Agnes and Cristina to a mother/daughter spa day so that he could visit his family and ask them for advice.
"Oh, hi, Logan! What brings you here?" Lincoln asked when he answered the door.
"Are Mom and Dad home, Lincoln? I'd like to ask them for some advice. Romantic advice." Lincoln's eyes widened in fear and he attempted to cover Logan's mouth, but it was too late.
"Did I just hear the R word?" Lola asked in excitement, then all ten girls rushed down the stairs and bombarded their two brothers with questions.
"Alright, alright, one at a time, ONE AT A TIME!" Logan yelled, causing them to go silent.
"What's all the ruckus?" Rita asked as she and Lynn Sr. came out of their bedroom.
"Mom, Dad, I need advice on what to do on my date with Agnes," Logan said simply. The girls all got a look on their faces that filled Lincoln with dread.
"Logan, cover your ears! Now!" Logan's hands had just barely made it past his jawline when the girls let out a piercing squeal that caused several dogs in the neighborhood to start howling.
"I'm starting to think that this was a bad idea," Logan said when his sisters stopped squealing.
"Now girls, Logan specifically asked your father and me for advice. Unless you want him to panic at the last minute and blow it, leave it to us!" Rita interjected before the girls could bombard him with their own tips. "I think some of you still have homework to do. Go on, shoo! Shoo!" Once the girls and Lincoln left Logan and their parents alone in the living room, Logan sat in the armchair while his parents sat on the couch.
"So...what kind of advice did you need, son?" Lynn Sr. asked.
"Just general advice. Anything you can offer."
"Okay. How well do you know Agnes?" asked Rita.
"Not as well as I'd like to, but I'd say pretty well. It was a little awkward seeing her for the first time in ten years," Logan admitted. "I guess it's still kind of awkward. But, you know, we're trying to move past that."
"Good, good. You're already off to a better start than your mother and me," said Lynn Sr. "Before we went on our first date, the only way we ever communicated was through 'secret admirer' letters that your mother slipped in my backpack when I wasn't looking. I had to think of ice breakers on the fly, that date was so tense!" Logan's father went on to suggest questions to break the ice so that Logan and Agnes could get to know each other better.
"Now, where are you planning on taking her?" Rita asked next. Logan told her. "Okay. If that's where you're going, then you should probably dress up a little more than you usually do, but not too much. There's such a thing as being overdressed, especially when it comes to the first date. Some nice jeans, a button-up shirt, and nice shoes ought to be plenty."
"Other than those few things, there's not much more we can offer," Lynn Sr. concluded. "Remember: just be yourself. Don't pretend to be something you're not. Believe me, women can sniff that out faster than a bloodhound tracking a skunk!"
"I'll take your word for it. Thanks, to both of you," Logan said.
"Aww, you're welcome, sweetie. Good luck on your date!" Rita said, standing up to give her eldest son a hug alongside her husband.
...
After more than a week of suspense, Date Night had come at last. Logan was wearing a black button-up shirt with white pinstripes and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, dark denim jeans, and black pointy-toed shoes. He had decided to leave most of his usual weapons at home, but just for emergencies, his jeans had a compartment on each leg. Each of those hidden pockets held a set of brass knuckles. He'd given up on trying to style his hair, leaving it a fashionable mop.
Agnes had borrowed some money from Logan to buy a sleeveless cotton dress that came to her knees. The dress's hunter-green color went well with her fiery red hair, which she decided to let down instead of keeping it in her usual bun. Her legs were bare, and on her feet was a pair of soft red slippers. She debated with herself whether to put on makeup or not, finally settling on adding some blush to her cheeks and curling her eyelashes. She and Logan had arranged for Cristina to have a sleepover with the Loud girls so that they would have the whole night to themselves.
Logan was waiting by the front door with his car keys, twirling them on his finger while whistling absently. He saw Agnes coming down the stairs, and he froze in place. He felt his face heat up slightly, and he audibly gulped.
"Wow. You look beautiful, Agnes," he said.
"Thank you, Logan. You look handsome as well," Agnes replied.
"Shall we?" Logan asked, opening the front door.
"We shall!" With that, they locked the house behind them, got into Logan's car, and drove to their previously agreed-upon restaurant, which was Jean Juan's French-Mex Buffet. Paying for their meals in advance, they sat down at a table and ordered their drinks, water for Agnes and iced tea for Logan.
When their drinks arrived, they stood and took their places in the buffet line. Being a fusion restaurant that blended two different cultures, Jean Juan's had some fairly unusual food items, like escargot enchiladas and savory guacamole crepes. They started eating in silence, not knowing what to say at first.
"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Agnes asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"How about we get to know each other a little better?" Logan suggested.
"Sounds good to me. You go first," Agnes replied.
"Okay. The reason I have so much money is because after I ran away, I was taken in by a retired CIA agent and his daughter. They lived in Great Lakes City, and he was the tenth-richest person there. He taught me all of the skills I needed to get inducted into the CIA myself. He died a few years ago from a piece of shrapnel in an old wound, and his daughter split her inheritance with me. The CIA sent me all over the world; I've been to London, Paris, Rome, Giza, Cairo, Tokyo, and Hong Kong. To better blend in on those missions, I became reasonably fluent in eight different languages. I don't know any of them completely, but I can hold a conversation pretty well."
"Wow, that's impressive!" Agnes stated. She then looked like she was contemplating something before asking, "Can...can you prove it? That you can speak so many languages, I mean?" Logan smiled and signaled one of the French-speaking waiters.
"Pouvez-vous remplir le verre de cette charmante jeune femme avec de l'eau, s'il vous plait?" he asked. The startled waiter smiled and nodded before topping off Agnes' glass of water.
"Okay, I believe you now," Agnes said with a giggle, picking up her glass and drinking from it. "What did you ask him, anyway?"
"I said, can you refill the glass of this lovely young woman with water, please?" Logan translated himself. "Okay, now it's your turn. Is there anything you want to tell me about yourself that I don't know already?" Agnes ran a finger along the rim of her glass absently.
"There's really not much left to tell," she said. "My friends almost ditched me when I told them I was considering asking you out, way back then. That was mostly due to the fact that I was fifteen and you were eleven. They changed their minds when they saw how inconsolable I was after you ran away. I've had nothing but support from them ever since, even though some of them went off on their own after a while. They were pretty much the only things that made the rest of high school and college bearable; without them, I don't know where I'd be now." She looked at Logan. "I really am grateful for everything you've done for me and Cristina. It's so much more than I ever could have asked for. Thank you so much."
Agnes slid her hand across the table until her fingers touched Logan's. Their eyes met, and both slowly leaned forward until their lips met for the second time in their lives. Outside the restaurant, a figure whose face was hidden by a deep hood watched to make sure they were occupied, then snuck across the parking lot with a long strip of cloth and a box of matches.
...
A few minutes later, having eaten their fill, Logan and Agnes exited the restaurant, hand in hand.
"You know, I don't know why I was so nervous about setting this up. It actually went a lot smoother than I thought it would," Logan said honestly, making Agnes giggle. "In fact, there's no reason to be nervous at all with romance. It's not like the car's gonna explode or anything!"
Just then, from one particular spot in the parking lot...
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
"MY CAR!" Logan screamed, clutching his hair in disbelief as a giant fireball erupted into the sky from what was formerly his vehicle. Having used the cloth as a fuse in the gas tank, the arsonist had long since fled the scene. Fortunately, nobody was hurt in the explosion, but several of the neighboring vehicles were damaged. The police were called, but there wasn't much they could do, the arsonist being an unknown person with unknown motives.
Logan finally called his dad and asked for a ride home for himself and Agnes. To calm down from the exploding car, the couple spent the rest of the night watching a movie and munching on popcorn. While Agnes started her bedtime routine, Logan called his friend and personal secretary, Mel.
"Logan? Why are you calling so late at night?" she asked.
"Sorry to bother you, Mel, but I have a problem. Some peckerhead just turned my car into a fireworks show. How soon can you have one of the spares sent to Royal Woods?"
"I can get it to you by lunchtime tomorrow. You had the DeLorean, right? So do you want the Hummer or the Camaro?"
"Let's go with the Camaro this time. Oh, and send down the motorcycle, too, just in case."
"Roger that, Logan. One Camaro and one Harley-Davidson, coming up!"
"Thanks a million, Mel! I owe you one!"
"Tell me about tonight's date when I come down tomorrow, and we'll call it even. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Mel." Logan hung up and began his own bedtime routine.
Translation from English to French was provided by ChatGPT.