Well that's promising already, Drake thinks to himself, his smile back lingering even after Ephemera's vanished into the bedroom. By the time his partner's changed, there are plates out on the table and Drake's opening two beers he smuggled out of the speakeasy, setting them at each place. He looks back up at the footsteps returning to see that Ephemera seems to have embraced the idea of a date easily enough -- even if it's not technically a break in routine to have dinner together at home like they usually do, and Drake didn't want to be suspicious busting out flowers or candles or anything -- he recognizes the outfit and it's a good one. He lets out a low, appreciative whistle as he tugs a chair out.

"Now who looks nice? The hair... if you want to keep growing it, maybe. Or you could just even it out and change the style until it's long enough to get behind your ear." He runs a hand through his own hair as an example, gelled away from his forehead as usual. "Either way I like it."

Drake sits, and although there's never a question which plate is his, what with the special additions, Ephemera will notice that he's set their places on adjacent sides of the table tonight instead of opposite. It's a small table so there's really not much difference, but it brings them just sliiiiiiightly closer.

"I thought maybe I could catch you up a little. On the deal progress."

They haven't had as much time just alone together lately as Drake would've liked, busy with preparations and patrols and this extra project of his. And the fact is that he's never certain who he's actually inspired so has been casting a very wide net that's hard to keep accurate track of. He's pretty sure he's at or over six now, though, so even if tonight doesn't go exactly as he's hoping they should talk about it because he's ready. And if it does? Icing.