Iplier and Septiceye One-Shots/Imagines

Date (Wilford Warfstache)

Suggested by Izzy-chan132.

Part two to "Interview".

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Five days after Wilford sat in your cubicle, you found yourself in a nice outfit, sitting at a table in a restaurant that was above your pay grade. Wilford was sitting across from you in a black suit with a salmon-coloured bowtie, smiling at you warmly.

"This is a really nice place, Wilford," you said, looking around the place.

"The perfect place for a first date," he simply replied, motioning over to a waiter to get him a bottle of wine. "Plus, I have a few connections to get me a small dock off the price."

"A reporter has his ways," you giggled as the waiter came up, holding two bottles of wine, both red, and both very expensive-looking. After a moment, Wilford pointed to the one on the left, then the waiter left once more.

"Of course. Especially a reporter like me," he just said as another waiter poured two crystal wine glasses halfway full of the fragrant alcohol. You took a sip as your boss ordered for the two of you.

"I hope you have fun tonight, (Y/N)," Wilford said as he drank from the wine glass. "I want to get to know you a bit better. More than I already do, of course."

"You can pull up my files, can't you?" you asked him with a sly smirk. "Just read those."

"Those are your credentials, your work, what school you went to, blah, blah, blah," he scoffed. "I don't need to know that. I want something else. As a reporter, I always look for the bigger picture, the better story. "He took another sip. "So, what's your story?"

"I have no story. I was born, I went to school, got good grades, and ended up here," you laughed, staring at his chocolate brown eyes.

"That's not the whole story, not all of it. C'mon, spill. We'll start slow. Who do you look up to?"

"Well, when I was studying to be a journalist, I... well...." You trailed off, starting to blush.

"Yes?" Wilford prodded, folding his hands on the table in interest.

"I looked up to you."

There was a pause, then the pink-moustached man laughed.

"You're just saying that," he chuckled.

"No, I mean it. You were my inspiration," you just said again, grinning shyly.

"Really? Well then, thank you. A beautiful person like you, looking up to little ol' me?" He just chuckled again. "Outstanding." The waiter came by and put your dinner on the table in front of you, and Wilford thanked him quietly.

The two of you started eating in a comfortable silence, smiling and chatting every once in a while about work, the food, or just about each other.

"All done?" the waiter asked after you had just finished your meal.

"Yes, just the bill," Wilford said, winking. The waiter nodded with a small smile and left with the dishes.

"What was that?" you asked.

"I told you, my dear. A job like mine comes with some perks," he sniggered. "As in, there will be no bill. The owner of the restaurant owes me a small favour anyway, so this is no problem for him."

"This isn't anything illegal, is it?" you asked.

"Illegal? My dear, where did you get that silly idea from?" He placed a hand on top of yours and laughed lightly. "I've done nothing illegal in my life, I swear. And anyway, I wouldn't let anything illegal get in the way of a perfect date. You mean a lot to me, you know, even though we've only just met. It feels like I've known you forever."

You felt your cheeks heat up, so you stood up with a small smile. "I'll be right back, I just want to freshen up." You turned around to go to the washroom, pushing in your chair.

When you finished and got back, you saw Wilford talking with another woman, with brown hair and a dark purple dress.

"It's great meeting a fan," he chuckled as he stood up. The lady smirked and moved closer to Wilford, playing with her hair. You could obviously tell that she was no good.

"I just really appreciate your work... Mr. Journalist," she tittered. The sound of it made you groan, but inside, you were nervous. What was Wilford going to do? "Were you busy? Maybe we could: I don't know," the woman continued.

"What were you thinking of doing?" Wilford asked the brunette.

"Maybe you could come over to my place for the night? We could do... something," she replied as she batted her long eyelashes. You stared at your date, wondering what he was going to do.

"I would love to, darling," he smirked, "but I have a wonderful date. Also, you're just not my type. My apologies."

Gratified and relieved, you took your moment to walk towards the table, wiping your hands.

"Sorry I took so long, love. I had to- oh, who's this, honey? A coworker?" you asked, smiling at her sweetly. She looked ready to blow.

"Never seen her in my life," he smirked and pecked your cheek. "If you would excuse us, madam, we have places to be going. I'll see you around, I'm sure." With that, he took your hand and led you out of the restaurant and into the night.

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Word count: 877