"I guess it's all relative when you've actually been to an infernal plane." He shrugs. "Try the actual horror-comedies. Those are a hoot. You might even like Evil Dead!" Boots on, wallet, phone, keys- and he's out the door. It'll be a good night.

It'll be a great night.

It ends up being a fantastic date. Dinner's awesome, there's a few drinks afterward, hell they even dance a little at the club before he begs off on account of sudden movement and she just rolls with it. Hands in his shirt drags him back out to breathe, to calm down, and to get back to his apartment.

They're more or less locked together when he gets the door open. He's got one hand down her skirt and the other on his keys while they stumble inside, mouths locked tight.