Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. No money is being made from this piece of fiction.

Blind Date

By Arlene

"Blaisdell, old man, the mission is done, the debriefing is over, and it's dinner time." Steadman slapped his colleague on the shoulder, raising a small cloud of dust from the flak jacket. "Since you saved my life this time, how about if I buy?"

Blaisdell immediately became suspicious. The mission had almost gone south, the debriefing had been brutal, and now Steadman was offering to pay for a meal? And quite cheerfully too. Something was up.

"Listen, I intend to clean up, go home and sleep for the next thirty-six hours. And I suggest you do the same." This latest mission had left Blaisdell weary to his soul. The thought of leaving the Company permanently came to the forefront of his mind again.

Steadman recognized the grim look on his friend's face. "Oh no, you can't back out now. I've already made reservations and they simply cannot be canceled. And I can't have this debt hanging over my head. Now I know this lovely girl . . ."

'So that's it,' Paul thought with alarm. The last time Steadman had tried to set him up with a "lovely girl," it was a disaster. Although the woman was stunning, she had a laugh that could shatter glass and the attitude of a spoiled child. He hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, even to bid her good night. He briefly thought of returning to that third-world dump to face the remaining revolutionaries. He started walking faster to the door.

Steadman had to jog to catch up. "I've told her all about you and she's dying to meet you," he lied smoothly. "She's charming, absolutely charming. You'll adore her." He winked at a pretty blond secretary who happened to cross his path. "And let me remind you again that the reservations have been made." He named the restaurant. "Seven o'clock. Don't be late." Steadman got to the door first and left.

Blaisdell stopped and swore, which earned him a stern look from an elderly file clerk. 'Great. She's expecting me.' Being an honorable man, he now felt obligated to go. Looking at his watch, he had an hour and a half to get out of his battle fatigues and get ready. Going home wouldn't be possible; he'd have to use the Company's facilities if he wanted to be on time. As he headed for the locker room, he ran through a list of plausible excuses in his head for an early departure from his blind date.

***

She heard the footsteps first. Next came the scent of the familiar after-shave. Knowing that he wanted to surprise her, she continued her work and pretended not to notice him. She covered the several classified pages on her desk. One could never be too careful. A small grin played around her lips.

"Hello, Annie." Steadman's arm reached around her and hugged her lightly.

"Oh, you're back in town already? What a surprise!" She squeezed his arm back affectionately. "What're you doing in this neck of the woods?" This time she allowed herself a full smile.

"My dear girl, I am here on business (which you know very well I cannot discuss) and I am in "this neck of the woods" to take you out to dinner."

She felt her watch. "I'm almost finished here. How about if I meet you in the lobby in ten minutes?"

"Splendid! I shall eagerly await you, dear lady. Oh, by the way," he added as if it just came to him, "I wonder if it would be alright if a friend of mine met us there."

As perceptive as she was, Annie caught on immediately. "You didn't! You set up a blind date for the blind chick?"

Steadman heard the tinge of anger in her voice and quickly tried to placate her. "Now, now, who said anything about a date? He is simply a friend to whom I owed a dinner and ---"

"Oh no, the last time you said that ---"

"Annie, I promise you this is not a date," Steadman lied to her in a solemn voice. "He is simply a friend who looked a bit lonely. I wanted to cheer him up a bit. And since I was in the area, and since you worked nearby, and since I already made the reservations . . . Annie, Scout's honor, this is not a blind date." Steadman had never been a Boy Scout.

"Oh, alright. But just this one time." The smile was back. He hadn't lied to her yet. He had already told her how being a Boy Scout had taught him honor.

"Marvelous! I will meet you downstairs then." He kissed her cheek and left her to finish up.

Annie sighed and couldn't stop herself from reflecting back on her previous dates. The men she had gone out with treated her like a charity case, never leaving her side lest she trip and fall over something. 'Pity the blind girl,' she thought with a grimace. Pity. She hated that. She could barely go to the ladies' room without an escort.

And the first meetings were always the worst. When her dates found out she was blind, all words related to sight were awkwardly dropped as if they would offend her, such as "light," "dark" and colors. They even tried to avoid the phrase "See you later."

'Stop it, Annie. You're over reacting. He said it was just a friend.' She hurried to clean off her desk.

***

Annie and Steadman had arrived at the restaurant on time for the 6:30 reservation. Steadman knew that Annie liked to familiarize herself to a new environment and thought half an hour to be more than sufficient. Annie's hand was on her escort's arm as they followed the maitre d' to their table. As they walked, Steadman quietly gave her detailed locations of the dining room and the ladies' room. After she sat down, he took the chair facing the door.

"I told my friend to meet us here at seven. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted you all to myself for a while."

"Of course I don't mind. I've missed you too. So tell me about the unclassified parts of your life." It was an unspoken rule that Company business was never discussed on the outside.

"Ah, dear child, have I got some stories for you!" He began his tales.

***

While walking to the restaurant, Blaisdell thought about his blind date. Would she be one of those top-heavy blonds Steadman was always so fond of? He smirked. A bust that nature certainly never intended and hair color from a bottle. Or one of those chorus girls hoping for a big break? He idly wondered how Steadman handled those kinds of women when they found out he wasn't a producer from Hollywood. He grinned. A slap to his face? A drink thrown on one of his expensive suits? A kick in the . . . He abruptly reflected on Steadman's words. The man had used the word "charming" twice in his sales pitch. "Charming" to Steadman meant "nice personality" to Blaisdell. Was she unattractive? Hmm.

Paul drew up short. He was here. The dread set in again. He squared his shoulders and straightened his posture. He had to stop himself from checking for his gun. When he felt ready to do battle, he marched in. 'Courage, man. Never let them see the fear in your eyes.'

***

"And then she said, 'But I didn't know about the snake!'"

Annie laughed out loud. She had almost forgotten the wild stories Steadman liked to tell. That was what she loved about him, his ability to make her laugh no matter what her mood was. She had to remove her sunglasses to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Steadman allowed himself to relax. This was one of the few joys he had left that hadn't been tainted by the dangerous life he led. He would do anything in his power to make Annie happy. Including finding her companionship.

As Paul neared the table, he appraised his blind date in seconds. Short, naturally blond hair. Plain blue dress with buttons down the front. Naturally pretty, wearing little or no make up. Sensible walking shoes. Holding onto amber-colored sunglasses with her left hand, on which she wore a rather bulky wristwatch. Short nails. A secretary perhaps? Not Steadman's style at all. He began to revise his estimate of the coming evening.

Then he heard her laugh. It wasn't high and shrill or artificial. It wasn't a coy giggle either. It was an honest-to-God laugh that warmed his heart. He cleared his throat to get the couple's attention.

"Ah, Paul, dear boy! On time as usual. Please join us. Annie, this is my friend Paul, of whom I told you about. Paul, this is Annie, the light of my life."

"How do you do?" Annie reached out with her hand. Though sightless, her eyes automatically went to where she heard the noise.

Paul was struck by how blue her eyes were. It was like she looked right through him and into his soul. "Um, fine, thank you." He gently clasped her hand.

She felt callused fingertips meet her hand. She had also heard his light, measured footsteps. Must be in the same line of work as her friend. Though his handshake was gentle, she could feel the steel of his muscles underneath. 'He doesn't want to hurt me,' she realized with a little surprise. Most men wanted to impress her with their strength. 'I like him.' "Please, sit down." She replaced her sunglasses.

Her hand was soft, but her grip was firm. He took stock of her handshake. 'Very independent and likes to take the initiative. Straightforward. I like her.'

Steadman signaled the waiter to take their orders. Blaisdell, feeling exposed with his back facing the door, squirmed a bit in his seat. As the waiter went through the litany of the night's specials, Paul quickly glanced through the menu.

Annie turned to Steadman. "Why don't you order for me? You seem to have more expertise in this area than I do."

"Very well then." He ordered in flawless French. "How about you, old boy?"

Paul, who was still struggling in learning foreign languages, said in English, "I'll have the steak." He had never really felt comfortable in these fancy restaurants. He envied Steadman's ease in fitting in wherever he went.

"Ah, excellent choice, monsieur," the waiter approved. "Three steaks it is then." Paul felt a slight blush of embarrassment creep up to his cheeks.

"Um, so, how did you two meet?" he said, trying to break the ice.

"Well, it's a long story," Annie evaded. No shop talk allowed. "I'd hate to bore you." She quickly changed the subject. "How did you two boys meet?"

"Ah, well, I guess you could say that's a long story too." It was Paul's rule that Company business was never discussed on the outside.

"You know," Steadman broke in, "Annie is an avid reader."

Annie remembered that Steadman was attempting to cheer his friend up. "Oh yes, I'll read practically anything," as long as it's in Braille, she added silently. "Do you like to read?"

"Yeah, sometimes. I don't go the movies very often and I don't have much time to watch TV," not in my line of work, he added silently.

It was refreshing to have someone use the word "watch" without stuttering in her presence. 'He doesn't know I'm blind!' Although she hated deceiving people, she was starting to enjoy herself and didn't want to spoil the mood.

"I don't have a TV. Never had much use for those things," she replied. "And I find going to the movies too much of a hassle." Steadman gave her an amused glance. He figured out what she was doing and played along.

"Oh indeed. The long lines, the rather cramped seating, I agree completely."

"Well, I prefer a quiet night at home, a book and good music," Paul joined in. He rarely had peaceful moments to himself nowadays. "Who are your favorite authors?" 'At last, a girl with brains.'

Annie and Paul talked throughout the dinner, their shared love of literature making them warm up to each other. They also found other common likes such as radio programs and music. So involved in their discussion, they almost completely ignored Steadman, who preferred staying in the background anyway.

During an animated debate about whether Hamlet was really insane, Steadman sat back to admire his handiwork. Annie was practically glowing at having found an intellectual equal who treated her as such. Paul had come out of his shell that he had formed around himself because of his work. Steadman mentally patted himself on the back. He caught the hat check girl's eye and winked at her. She blushed prettily and responded with a small wave. He smiled back. He now had plans for later tonight.

***

As dinner drew to a close, the trio decided to finish off with a bottle of wine. Since he seemed to be the resident expert, Steadman made a selection and examined the wine before it was served.

"Three o'clock," he told Annie as the waiter put her glass on the table.

"Thank you," she replied automatically.

Paul checked his watch. 'What? Three o'clock? What's he talking about?' Then he saw Annie reach out with her right hand. It hit him. 'She's blind!'

He looked her over a second time. Amber sunglasses indoors. Little or no make up. Bulky watch---without a cover! Small bumps where the numbers should be. He looked at the shoulder bag hanging on the back of her chair and saw the tip of a white stick poking out at the top. He wanted to kick himself. Then he wanted to kick Steadman.

Annie heard Paul's small catch in breath. 'Uh oh. He knows.' She tensed, waiting for the explosion that surely would follow.

Steadman noticed Annie's posture and tried to figure out what changed her mood. He saw Paul's face and realized he had figured out Annie's secret. 'Game's over. Let's see if I guessed right about him.'

Paul took a sip of his wine to calm himself. "Steadman . . ." he said in an accusatory voice. 'Here it comes,' Annie thought. She braced herself.

"You told me she was charming . . ." he began. "But you never told me she was enchanting, intelligent and beautiful as well." Annie nearly jumped out of her chair when she felt Paul take her hand and kiss the back of it.

Steadman laughed, satisfied. "Paul! Didn't I tell you? And to think how reluctant you were about the evening at first."

Annie sputtered, "What? This was a date after all? But you said . . ."

"My dear," Steadman patted her reassuringly on the knee, "Would you have come if I told you what I was really up to? It was for your own good. For both of you." He addressed his two friends. "You two really work too hard, you know. You need to get out and enjoy life more." He tossed down the rest of his wine and made a hasty exit. "Will you look at the time? I've an early debriefing tomorrow and I really must dash. Ta now." Annie and Paul remained in their seats, too surprised to respond.

Once out of the way, Steadman paid their bill and left a generous tip. He knew that Blaisdell was hooked and would take care of Annie for the rest of the evening. He retrieved his overcoat, his hat and the hat check girl and left to find something more exciting to do than talk about Hamlet with his new-found friend.

"Well." Annie was a bit flabbergasted.

"Well." Paul smiled at her, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to see it.

"Paul, I'm sorry I deceived you like that, but you see---" Annie started, feeling guilty.

"Annie, don't apologize. Actually, I'm glad you did. I don't think I would've enjoyed myself as much if I had known you were blind before. I mean . . ." It was Paul's turn to sputter. He couldn't believe he had just said that. "I'm sorry, please forgive me."

"Look," Annie said practically. "You forgive me and I'll forgive you, okay? I haven't had this much fun with someone who treated me normally in such a long time. I'd really like to continue with the way things were."

Paul relaxed. "I'd like that too. Alright then. While we're at it, let's forget all about what's-his-name."

"Who?" she said playfully.

"Did I mention how intelligent you are? Let's dance." He gently took her hand again. Annie hesitated. Because she was blind, few people had asked her to dance, and she was afraid of being out of practice.

"It's been a while and I'm a bit rusty . . ."

"Nonsense! Stick with me, babe, and I'll take care of you," he bragged confidently. He held her hand a little firmer. "Please?" he asked her softly.

She couldn't resist. She held on to him as he helped her out of her chair. "You're a very persuasive man, Paul Blaisdell." She was led to the dance floor. Strong arms surrounded her and guide her through the music. She relaxed and melted into him.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and held her close. He felt at peace as they swayed to the music. He could stay like this forever. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" he murmured in a low voice.

"I didn't before, but now I think I've had a changed of heart," she sighed contentedly.

***

She was the first to notice. Annie, who was always aware of her surroundings, was startled to realize the band had stopped playing.

He noticed the change in Annie's movement. Paul, who was always aware of his surroundings, was startled to realize the band had stopped playing. "Hm, I suppose we should get back to our seats."

"Do we have to?" She liked the feel of his arms around her.

"No," he chuckled. "But people are staring."

"So? Let them."

Paul checked his watch and groaned. "I think we need to be going now. The restaurant's closing."

Annie felt her watch and was surprised at how much time had passed. She heard the telltale scraping of chairs being put up on the tables. "You're right, let's go."

They returned to their table, picked up their belongings and headed for the door. Once outside, Paul felt protective of her. His arm tightened about her shoulders.

"Are you trying to keep the blind chick from tripping over a rock?" she teased.

"Uh, no. I was signaling to all the other guys to get their own girl. This one's mine. Well, that is, if you want to be."

Annie was touched. No one had acted this way toward her after discovering her blindness. "You know, Mr. Blaisdell, I think I want to be. No," she slipped her arm around his waist, "I know I want to be."

He almost felt like flying when he heard her declaration. Instead he hailed a cab and took her home. On the way, they sat in silence, simply finding comfort in each other's company. They were both disappointed when the cab arrived at Annie's home. Silently, Paul cursed the driver's efficiency and led Annie to her doorway. He stopped and helped her with her keys.

"When can I see you again?" Paul didn't want the night to end so quickly.

"How about tomorrow, when I get off work?" She named her work address and the time. Paul nearly laughed out loud and shook his head. "Steadman, you old devil."

"What's wrong?"

"Annie, we work in the same building and I think we have the same employer." He emphasized the last word.

It dawned on her. "Oh my goodness!" Unlike Paul, she did laugh out loud. "How, um, convenient. At least we won't be very far from each other."

Paul became serious. "Listen, if I'm associated with Steadman, then I think you can guess my line of work. Do you still want to see me?" he asked fearfully.

She raised her hands and gently explored his face, liking what her hands told her. Paul, understanding what she needed to do, leaned into her touch and waited.

"Paul, when I shook your hand, I could already tell what you did for a living. And yes, I still want to see you." She felt his face relax and his lips curve into a smile.

"So what do you do?" He wanted to know everything about this woman.

"I'm sorry, that's need-to-know," she said primly. "If you need to know, then pick me up after work and buy me dinner. Information has a price you know." She tiptoed to kiss his cheek and let herself in.

Paul just stood there, smiling at the closed door. He was pleased, so very pleased that he had finally met someone who could "see" the real him. And like what was there. He headed towards the waiting cab, whistling one of the tunes they had danced to.

Annie just stood there smiling, leaning with her back against the closed door. She was pleased, so very pleased that she had finally met someone who could "see" the real her. And like what was there. She headed towards her bedroom, humming one of the tunes they had danced to.

End