text: With some gentle force, Ick pushed the last bit of toothpaste into his brush. Neither a thief nor a gentleman can live long without stunning white teeth that make women throw roses at them. Today was his first date in ages. The last woman left him because she wasn't at all into his "crime thing," but he didn't cry due to her turning 25 a week before. He & his date met in a posh café; she was already there when he entered the café. "Oh! It is you!" The woman said. Ick looked at her a few times, always focused on different parts of her body. "Don't remember." He judged as he walked towards her. "No surprise, but I remember you!" She exclaimed as she shifted her feet so that they point at him. He fancied her combo of a red dress, blond hair, green eyes, and therefore he let her kind of stalkerish comments fly. He sat next to her. "This is the moment where you explain to me what you mean." "You know my Mom, Holy." Ick just glanced at her with an empty face. "She has a sister named Gloria." "This describes at least a quarter of all women in the average church," Ick stated without any emotions. "Ha, believe me, you know her well!" "She is the woman who gave you $20,000 for stealing a spiderweb from her now ex-husband," she finally gave Ick something he can use. Ick placed his left hand on her right hand. "Oh, she didn't mention that she has a daughter that would have changed some things." "Oho, oho, tell me." She poked him while she pushed his hand slightly away with one finger. "Well, where should I start?" He questioned rhetorically, "there are positive and negative things about more mature women." "positive and negative things, yeah, yeah, I see." She had to try hard to keep herself from smiling too wide. "But if she has a good looking daughter" - Dolly, the woman who sat to his left side, raised an eyebrow, slightly grinning - "that means she is a MILF" - she kept her eyebrow raised, but now without a grin - "Which in turns means, I should have hit on her daughter instead." She giggled. "You sure know how to keep a girl on the edge of her seat, Mr. Cord." She still laughed and had lightly flushed cheeks but tried to keep it less noticeable by turning her head a bit away. "Well, in my line of work, charming of women is a necessity, and I love my job." "Aha, so I am one of the numerous you can work your skills on? I understand", she faked distress and extracted her hand from his. He grabbed her hand. "Doesn't one has to train on cheap material before being able to work with more valuable material?" He asked with an over-the-top delivery. She kept her composure and doubled down, "Aww, that sounds like a borderline creepy Instagram pick-up line." "I don't even know what an Instagram is." Ick threw a curveball to push her out of her attack position. "It is a website about attractive girls, food, and yeah, that's mainly it." She explained to him, "are you that antiquated that you don't know that, or are you fooling me?" He shifted his left hand away from her hand and instead lay his left arm around her while he said with wisdom shining through, "you know, only a man not used to attractive women spend his time looking at pictures of them. I prefer the real deal." She moved a bit closer; she pressed her shoulders a bit against his chest. "Oho? I didn't hear about this side of you so far, Mr. Playboy. When we at the thief fan club talk about you, that topic never comes up, just like with all those other thieves. On the other hand, we still aren't sure how you did steal that one basketball team. Tell me more about this!" "One has to treat a good theft like a woman," he started his monolog and turned to the left. "Is it so? Tell me more, but not too long." "One needs a good technic to start the theft," he put his right hand on her side. "A good technic? I can't see how a woman needs a good technic. It sounds like faking it. Is that so, Mr. Cord? Are you a faker? A liar, liar, liar?" She poked fun at him but put her legs closer together and turned them in his direction. "Here, the wine for both of you." The waiter slammed the glasses on the table. "Sorry for that," he said without any hint of actually being sorry. "How cavemanish, you ordered for me too? How disappointing," she stated without many expressions in her voice. "It is a good Merlot." Ick showed her the bottle a second after he freed his right hand from her side. "And why do we have a Merlot in front of us?" She wondered while she made her knees touch his. "I remember there being a big wine cellar in your mother's house; nothing in there besides Merlot." He opened the bottle and poured the wine first in her glass, followed by his own. "So, you planned for my mother being here? There may be some misunderstandings on your side, Mr. Cord." With two fingers, she holds the wine glass while she moves it towards her lips. "I don't plan for a woman. I only plan for a house of women." He parried without thinking about it for more than a second. Both drank a bit of wine without changing their position one bit. "Women prefer it when they got asked if they liked the wine." She broke the silence. He mustered her body and face, both that are so close but still a bit too far away from him. "I never came in a situation in which I had reasons to doubt my good judgment." "Never?" "Never." He answered and pulled her a bit closer with his right hand. She instinctively put parts of her left leg on his lap. "There are probably some things that would make the other women at the club jealous." He started his next sequence. "Are there, Mr. Cord?" She asked rhetorically and pressed her forehead against his. "I didn't expect you to be a blunt girl." "I didn't expect you to be a shy guy, Ick." "The bill!" The waiter more or less threw his tablet on the table. It slid over the table, and without much power, it hit Ick's elbow. Ick grabbed with one hand her hair close to her hair root and pulled her head so that she had to look upwards into his eyes. "Ick, aren't you a bad boy today?" She smiled. "Always Dolly, always." He grinned and gave her a deep kiss.