I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control

Turner was frazzled by everything he has just witnessed. Sure, it was a challenge to get ahead in a game, but all of the betrayals, alliances, and everything else that had happened was a lot to take in. Plus, seeing all of these people slowly shoot each other's clothes off was...interesting, to say the least.

He didn't expect Paige to get first place either. Kathryn would've probably been his top pick to win, not to get eighth place. Emma also getting last was of concern too, because not only would she be trying to get victory points in different manners, but she also would be **** into sexual situations due to the transformation she was plagued with.

Oh well, he was gonna enjoy your date with her as best as he could. And it wasn't a date, per se, more just going out on the town with a girl who admired him. Alone. At night.

Still not a date.

Honestly, aside from Becca, this was probably the one he was dreading going to the least. He hadn't gotten to spend much time with Emma, on account of her being two years his junior, and was fairly confident that all that flirting was just all talk and no walk.

"Fairly" being the operative word.

After putting on one of his semi-formal outfits, not being sure what Emma had planned for him, he heard knocking on his door.

"Come in," he said while exiting the bathroom into the main room.

As the door opened, there was Emma. She, likewise, had not gone for anything over-the-top, although Turner was questioning whether or not she even owned something that fancy. Emma was a little nervous for this date, and she didn't want to scare Turner away by showing up dressed in something that was super fancy, so she put on a fairly standard dress and heels that fell under the "dinner shoes" category.

"So, I was struggling ALL morning trying to think of some ideas for where we could go," Emma said, the door closing behind her as she started speaking. "And...wait, you're not allergic to anything, suffer from high blood pressure, nausea, or pregnant right now, are you?"

"Are all of those relevant?" Turner asked with an eyebrow cocked. "Allergies and pregnancy? Are you taking me to like a seafood place or something?"

"Not exactly..." Emma said, turning around and just trusting that he would follow her. She wasn't planning anything that might be impaired by those factors, it was just fun to see the normally calm and collected Turner baffled for a second.

He did end up following her. As they exited the hotel, Emma hung back a little bit so that she could walk together with him. Her heart was racing, she had gone on very few dates at this point and even though she trusted Turner with her life, it was still a bit unnerving going on a date with someone that she really liked.

Acting extra flirtatious had started off as her own little joke, but she was trying her best to keep it from spiraling out of control. She didn't want to make a move on Turner in the same way that she didn't want to set her house on fire. Turner was a safe person for her to go to, someone she could always trust on. Why would she jeopardize that just for a slim chance of getting some sexual relief?

The two of them were walking down a cobblestone pathway, reminiscent of an old town district in a Colonial American city. Stores and businesses lined the sides of the road, built out of old bricks and wood. It was very similar to where the two of them had grown up. One of Emma's best memories with Turner was marching in a parade through a district like this in their hometown; they were both tired and weary, but after that they went to the midway that the town set up. They laughed and had a great time with a group of friends that they had went with, and it showed her that he was just a person too, not just someone to learn from.

"So...you never really answered my question," Turner said as they walked down the street. "Where are you taking me, exactly?"

"Oh, right!" Emma responded, confused at first but regaining her train of thought. "Have you ever been skating before?"

"What, like roller skating?" Turner asked. "Yeah, I went there for a lot of my friends' birthday parties, is that where we're going?"

"Yes, but actually no," Emma clarified. "I've been roller skating too, several times at the roller rink downtown. What we're going to do is go ice skating."

"Ice skating?" Turner was suspicious. "A few things. You're going ice skating in that? I've never been ice skating before and I don't think you have anyways, and why specifically that?"

"I have another outfit in my bag," Emma patted her bag as she answered. "I know you've never been ice skating. Neither have I, that's why it'll be a fun thing that the two of us can do!"

Turner couldn't argue with that logic. He was a little uneasy about his choice of dress, but he wasn't about to discount Emma's idea just because he might get his clothes scuffed up. The world was magical, what was stopping him from just sending the clothes down to the washer and them coming back fixed?

Emma turned at the door to what appeared to be a sports complex. The two of them entered and it was like a whole 'nother world inside there. Gone was the tropical island with sandy shores that stretched on for eternity. This building was like taking a trip back to somewhere closer to home. Ice covered the majority of the floor, and the air in the building was noticeably colder. There were benches throughout the place and instead of a spot where people would normally rent skates, there was a shelf with every single type of ice skates a person could want in every single size a person could want. Turner didn't know much (if anything) about what made a good ice skate, but there had to be something different about all the different types they had there.

"I'm gonna go get changed, don't start skating without me," Emma said as she walked off to the bathrooms with her bag. Turner noticed the distinct lack of people here. Were all of the places around this place a ghost town or had Kendra made this place empty just for him and Emma? He certainly would be more insecure if there were people all around while it was his first time on the ice.

What would've been even worse if there were other people around was when he heard Emma's voice from the rooms in the back. It was difficult to decipher what she was saying, but one of the words was "Turner".

That was all he needed to hear to move a little closer, near the door to the bathroom where Emma had went into, and he said "What was that, Emma?"

A few seconds of silence was the response, before Emma's voice could be heard, much smaller this time. She said, "I'm...in a little bit of a pickle here."

"Do...do you need me to help you?" Turner said after a few more seconds of silence, his voice full of trepidation.

"Yes, please," Emma said almost immediately.

As Turner slowly entered the women's restroom, he had an epiphany. This was what Emma's transformation was. It was something like "The Old Washing Machine Trick", meaning that she would be stuck in sexual situations around him. He wasn't sure what kind of situation she was stuck in right now that needed his assistance, but having difficulties while getting undressed were almost certain to be somewhere in that vein.

"Emma?" he called out again once the door closed behind him.

"I'm...I'm in here, Turner," she answered from the stall nearest to the door.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I...well it's probably better if you see it for yourself," Emma opened up the door to the stall.

Thankfully, at least for Turner, Emma's dress was still mostly on, the straps holding it up on the top were just not on her shoulders anymore.

"I got my hair stuck in the zipper back here," she explained, motioning to her back. She had tied her hair into a ponytail, which apparently had gotten stuck in the zipper that was on the back of her dress.

For the next few minutes, Turner slowly worked her hair through the zipper in the back. It was a lot less risqué than he intended this situation to be initially. He silently mocked Kendra for not having her situation get as sexual as she probably thought it would.

"Whew, thanks for that, Turner," Emma said after he got the last strand of hair out. "I don't know what I would've done without you...I guess it was a stupid idea to wear a dress when I knew I'd only wear it for fifteen minutes or so."

"Don't mention it," he dismissed. "Alright, I'll leave so you can change your clothes."

After the door to the girls' bathroom closed, Turner looked up at the top of the sports complex and raised a middle finger, as if he was raising it to give a strong "Fuck you" to Kendra for trying to put Emma in these situations. It was cathartic in a strange way, and after a few seconds it seemed to clear his head, so he went to go look at the ice skates.

He was completely lost on the differences between them, so he just took a pair that looked decent and was in his size and brought it back to a bench near the ice rink. He put the skates on and immediately it felt weird. It was like nothing he had ever experienced, and he already was not looking forward to the many faceplants he was going to do on the ice soon.

Emma came back into the main room, her outfit changed from a fairly conservative to a simple long sleeved shirt, jacket, and long pants.

"I know, I look stunning in this," she teased as Turner looked over at her. "I can really pull off this outfit."

"Suuure," Turner teased back.

After Emma got her skates from the rack and put them on, the two of them tried to stand up, which appeared to be a mistake. A thin blade was all that Emma and Turner were wobbling in place on, which didn't exactly give the most balance.

"Okay, we can try getting into the rink, I guess," Emma said after a minute of her holding the rail and standing still.

"Sounds good to me..." Turner's voice trailed off as he almost fell off balance.

Emma brought her left leg over the wall surrounding the rink and landed her foot on the ice, using the rail as her main source of her support. "This is...not what I expected from this," she admitted.

"Well, we can try moving around a little bit," Turner offered once both of his feet were on the ice.

It went...terribly. Neither Emma nor Turner were able to move away from the edge for an extended period of time, lest they fall victim to gravity. However, even through the pain of falling over and embarrassment of not being able to leave the handrail for more than a step or two, Emma knew in her mind that this was a great idea. She was having fun, Turner seemed to be having fun too by laughing, and they were able to forget that Kendra existed for a long time.

Starry-eyed was a good word to describe how Emma was feeling at the moment. Everything about this was perfect, aside from the fact that Turner already had a girlfriend; Becca. This was a perfect idea of what she imagined a dream date would be like, just her and whoever she was with having fun and laughing together. Turner fit that perfectly, he wasn't judging her for acting stupid, and he was comfortable enough to act stupid around her as well.

As she looked up at him braving to take a few more steps away from the handrail, she distracted herself from trying to balance, and fell over, accidentally crushing Turner, who was in the middle of trying to take a step. Miraculously, in the tumble, nobody was hit by an ice skate blade to any exposed skin, but falling over on the ice didn't exactly feel good either, even with a person breaking your fall.

"Oof," Turner said as Emma landed on top of him. It wasn't a smooth fall, but luckily it wasn't as harsh of a landing as it could've been. His vital organs were still intact, so that was to boot.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Emma apologized, her words scrambling as her brain fired neurons faster than the speed of light.

"You're perfectly fine," Turner said. "I wouldn't blame you for falling, that's like the umpteenth time it's happened, one of us was bound to fall on the other at least once during this date."

"Maybe we should call off the ice skating?" Emma suggested.

"It's your night, we can do whatever you want," Turner accepted.

"Just give me a second here, I think I landed weirdly on my ankle," Emma said as she wriggled around on top of Turner.

Moving around on top of Turner was probably the worst thing that Emma could've done. Turner thought back to the transformation she had been given. It was through no fault of Emma's that she fell on top of him. That was something predetermined by the producers, most likely. What else could've explained the fact that she was unintentionally grinding on him right now as she tried to care for her ankle?

Turner tried to think of anything else. The bacon he ate this morning. The Wikipedia article that he read on Hurricane Isabel a few days ago. The formula for binomial coefficients. Margaret Thatcher. Anything to distract him from what Emma was doing to him, again, through no fault of her own, at the present moment. It didn't work. His blood rushed down to his dick, which slowly began to rise. The more it rose, the more he panicked and inadvertently thought about it, and a feedback loop was formed.

"Fuck, okay, I think my ankle's okay, just need to get some ice on it for a second," Emma said.

"Please, God, please don't be visible when she gets up," Turner wished. But it was to no avail. Emma stood up a bit shakily, and Turner's little friend was saluting the troops.

Emma obviously noticed. With the way her eyes got big and she almost immediately looked anywhere else, it was plain and clear to Turner that she knew, but was trying to let on that she didn't. "Fuck, Kendra, why did you have to do this to her..." he immediately thought, resisting the urge to give the ceiling another middle finger.

"I...I think I'm gonna get changed back into my other clothes," Emma said, walking away from the scene while holding onto the handrail. "I'll try my best to not get my hair stuck in a zipper again."

As Emma was "skating" away, her mind was still shaken up. The last sixty seconds had not been kind to her overclocked mind. She had been having a great time, she was over the moon and feeling dreamy, she fell down for the millionth time, landed on Turner for the first time, hurt her ankle, and then after all of that he was sporting a boner. It was natural, but, well...it wasn't exactly what she was hoping to have happen during the date.

Looking upon the date, Kendra frowned. She figured that Emma's impulses would've won over her rationale in the dressing room, or if not then, at least during the fall. Shockingly to her, though, Emma had remained mostly calm during both of the debacles that she had set to happen. Clearly there needed to be something more in order to get her to go the extra mile and make at least something happen.

Right as Turner returned to the bench they had left their belongings at after putting his skates away, the lights in the building went dark. It was accompanied by a long, drawn out, almost comical mechanical deactivation noise, slowly descending in pitch as the machinery in the building ground to a halt.

Luckily, the cold temperatures present in the area allowed his erection to subside fairly quickly, but the cold temperature in the building was likely regulated by some sort of system in there...unless it was powered by magic, but what was the mechanical unwinding sound for? Ambience?

He heard the door open, and an indistinguishable figure stepped out. It was obviously Emma, but it was difficult to make anything out in the darkness that surrounded the two of them.

"Marco?" she jokingly called out.

"Polo, I'm like right in front of you," he responded, taking her hand. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"Wait, I don't know if I put this dress on right," she hesitated. "It was a little difficult to get it on at all in the dark. Do you have a flashlight or something with you?"

"No, my phone's back on Earth and a flashlight isn't typically something that I bring with me," he said, a bit miffed about the situation. "Especially because I don't tend to think that the place I'm going might just have the power shut off for no particular reason."

"Why do you think it went off anyways?" she questioned. "This place is run by magic, you'd think they would've had these sorts of problems figured out."

"I don't think it's a mechanical problem," Turner responded, his voice indicating that he wasn't happy about the situation. "Remember the transformation they gave you?"

"The one where I'd-oh shit!" Emma's voice turned surprised as she figured out why everything during the date had been happening. "It was all orchestrated! The wardrobe malfunction, the fall, the power outage...Kendra's trying to make us..."

"Exactly," Turner filled in, the last bit of Emma's thought not escaping her mouth as they both knew where she was going with it. "What say we just go back to the hotel? There are fewer things they can do there that'll mess with us than if we go out to supper or something. I can whip up some grub for you there."

"That's perfectly fine with me," she agreed as she grabbed onto his hand, leaving the hotel and not remembering why she stopped a few seconds ago.

As they exited the sports complex, it was already dark outside. It had only seemed like they were in there for an hour or so, not an entire afternoon. Emma looked down at her dress and, not seeing anything wrong with it, followed Turner back to the hotel grounds. The two of them didn't let go of each other's hands, though, even though they weren't trying to find their way in the darkness.

Well, maybe her perfect idealistic date didn't go exactly as planned, but Emma still had a good time, even if the producers and Kendra were trying to mess with her. Even if she wasn't exactly the most level-headed person ever, Turner was, and she trusted his judgment to not let her get to carried away with anything. They were just going to have a nice, relaxing meal in the hotel, maybe watch something, and then go to bed. It didn't matter that they would be in the same bed, right? She was well-versed in the art of keeping to her side of the bed as she had to do whenever her family went on vacation and she had to share a bed with her sister. And Turner was likely still used to the dorm beds, which aren't exactly spacious. Nothing would happen, right?