The Fanciest of Fine Dining

"I'm free! What night? No, any night is fine- Tonight! Yes! Yes, I'm free tonight." Cheryl flopped on the bed with an excited giggle, clutching the phone to her chest. She wiggled in glee coiling and uncoiling herself, and rolling on the bed hard enough to give a crocodile a run for its **** roll. She would need to get ready fast. She slithered out of the bed and over to the closet. The handle turned with a faint squeak and a pop and hiss as the door opened. It was so hot and humid in her apartment that her closet had its own dehumidification and air quality treatment system. She pushed through all her clothes. She had the perfect thing to wear.

Arthur had to call in a favor. Well, he had to ask Kira very nicely to call in a favor. Eladrin's Fine Cuisine was one of the nicest restaurants in the city after all. He hailed a centaur cab and was on Cheryl’s apartment steps at 7 O’clock. She opened her apartment door nervously and slithered out into the hall. Arthur picked his jaw up off the floor. Cheryl had picked out an absolutely lovely, flowing, open backed, burnt orange dress, that made her appear as if she were wreathed in flame, contrasting against her silver and blue scales. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders. She beamed at him.

They arrived at Eladrin’s and gave Kira’s name to the hostess, a lithe elf woman, her skin the color of summer. They were seated at a table overlooking the glowing cityscape through a massive arching window. They were waited on by a young man who looked as if the brittle orange leaves that adorned his hair would fall away at any moment. A vintage that was, quite frankly, above Arthur’s experience was recommended to them and poured. Cheryl glowed under the attention. They chatted into the night.