A Date
The engine purred softly as the car sliced through the dark streets, the neon city stretching behind them like a trail of electric ghosts.
Enid sat in the passenger seat, still reeling, her fingers gripping the seatbelt like it might somehow keep her grounded. The weight of what had just happened—her mother hiring an assassin to kill her, said assassin choosing to save her instead, and now she was in a car with the same girl who had nearly ended her life—it was all still catching up to her in waves.
She exhaled slowly, glancing at Wednesday.
The assassin looked completely unbothered, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift. She was driving too smoothly, too casually, like she hadn’t just turned Enid’s entire world upside down.
Enid narrowed her eyes. “Sooo… what’s the plan?”
Wednesday considered her. For all of Enid’s earlier bravado, there was still a slight tremor in her movements. But there was something else now, too—something determined, like now that she had survived, she wasn’t going to just let the world decide what happened next.
Wednesday tilted her head slightly, and then, because she had already broken every rule tonight, she decided to break one more.
She smirked. “We’re going on a date.”
Enid blinked. She turned fully in her seat, staring at Wednesday like she had grown a second head. “I’m sorry. What.”
Wednesday’s smirk deepened. “A date.”
Enid blinked again, her brain visibly buffering. “…We’re what?”
Wednesday leaned in slightly, her voice dropping lower, teasing. “You said you liked the whole hot assassin vibe, right?”
Enid froze. She swallowed. Hard. “I mean. Yeah. Obviously.”
Wednesday’s eyes flicked back to the road, but her smirk remained. “Good.”
And then—deliberately—she reached over, resting her hand lightly on Enid’s thigh.
Enid stopped breathing. Her brain shut down completely.
Wednesday leaned in slightly, her voice dangerously smooth. “Because for our first date, I’m taking you out to kill your mother.”
Enid made a strangled, incoherent noise. “I’m sorry, what?”
Wednesday, unfazed, tapped her fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “Your mother. She wants you dead. The cleanest way to make sure she doesn’t try again is to take her out first.” She glanced at Enid, the smirk still in place. “Consider it revenge therapy.”
Enid turned bright red. “You— you just decided that?”
Wednesday shrugged, like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Yes.”
Enid blinked rapidly. “Like, right now?”
“Yes.”
Enid opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then finally, she gestured vaguely at Wednesday, still reeling. “That’s insane.”
Wednesday chuckled softly. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Enid let out a sharp, breathless laugh, running a hand through her hair. “You are unhinged.”
“And you like it.”
Enid did not like the way her stomach flipped at that. “I—” she started, but her brain betrayed her and instead of forming a coherent argument, she made a very undignified noise.
Wednesday chuckled. The car slowed at a red light, and Wednesday finally turned to face her fully. She studied Enid for a moment—her flushed face, the way she was trying and failing to gather her thoughts, the slight twitch in her fingers against the seatbelt. Then she leaned in again, just enough to make Enid’s breath hitch. “You flirted with me back there,” Wednesday murmured. “Even when you thought I was about to kill you.”
Enid froze. She cleared her throat, eyes darting anywhere but Wednesday’s face. “Okay, well, in my defense, you’re—” she gestured vaguely at Wednesday, still visibly flustered. “—you.”
Wednesday hummed. “Mmm.” She tapped her fingers lightly against Enid’s thigh, watching with amusement as Enid’s entire body locked up. Then, smoothly, she asked, “What do you say, darling?”
Enid’s breath caught.
Wednesday leaned in just slightly, her smirk lazy, her fingers just barely pressing into the fabric of Enid’s jeans. “Will you plan a well-deserved murder with me?”
Enid’s brain fully collapsed. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then, to Wednesday’s complete satisfaction, Enid whispered, “That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Wednesday grinned. “I know.”
Enid groaned, slamming her head back against the headrest. “God, I hate that I’m into this.”
Wednesday chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re very into this.”
Enid groaned even louder.
The light turned green. Wednesday pulled forward, still smirking, still driving like she hadn’t just completely wrecked Enid’s ability to think.
Enid muttered under her breath, “This is either the best or worst decision of my life.”
Wednesday, already planning exactly how to make their first date memorable, smirked.
“Oh, darling,” she murmured, “I promise—it’s going to be unforgettable.”