Phoenix Talon's first priority was Candi.
    "Eventful date," he remarked lamely. "I bet no other man has shown you this, has he?"
    She didn't seem upset. "Sorry about your bike."
    "Fortunately, it wasn't really my bike, they were given to us by the state. I just hope no one else was too badly hurt."
    "I don't think anyone got seriously damaged."
    "You're okay, right?"
    "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Fine," she assured him.
    "Thank you for getting my bokken. That was very brave."
    "Oh, not a problem. Thank you for an, uh, interesting evening."
    "Let's get a taxi."
    "Going to give me a ride home?"
    "Yeah." He pulled out his phone. "Needle?"
    "Yeah?"
    "I'm gonna take Candi home, I'll be back in a little while."
    "Who's Candi?"
    "My date."
    Pause. "Okay. See you when you get back."
    He ushered her into the nearest taxi; the driver chattered at him in—what, Azerbaijani?—and read the newspaper while driving.
    "So, we're gonna be in the car for a little while," she commented.
    "For a few minutes, yes." At the speed they were going, if they survived the trip they'd be there soon. "I think I had this guy before. I don't know who those guys were, but we're gonna track 'em down and get them."
    "That's your job; I understand, you have important things. Any way we could do dinner later, to make up for... this?" Candi offered with a smile.
    He hoped there was something more to this than her desire for publicity.
    "Maybe somewhere less likely to get attacked?" she continued.
    "I think it was because of the nature of the business, obviously."
    "Let's say your average Italian restaurant...?"
    "Probably won't have the kind of high technology that supervillains would be after. Unless they've got a really advanced stove."
    "Let's try to avoid that place."
    They made arrangements, and soon reached her apartment. He told the cabbie to wait.
    "Oh. You're not coming up for a nightcap?"
    "No, I gotta get back," he excused himself. "We have to clean up, we have to interrogate that guy; I'm glad we managed to get a prisoner." He walked her up the stairs to her apartment and gave her a kiss. She seemed to dig it; he certainly did. This was going well.
    He went back down. The cab came screeching back around the corner where the driver had gotten himself some coffee and food; he went on for several incomprehensible moments before asking, "French fry?"
    "Sure." He helped himself to a couple of the offered fries; they had horseradish on them. Whatever. They went squealing off into the night once more.

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