In two days, Sniper had managed to acquire both a tie and a decent button-up shirt, courtesy of Engineer. While Sniper had considered asking Spy for help, he knew better than to ask for dating advice from a man whose trade was stealing secrets. He certainly didn't want the spook wondering just who it was he'd be courting for the evening. Besides that, they weren't friends -- just coworkers, and of his choices, Engineer was the better of the two when it came to minding his own business.

Though he had something to wear, he still hadn't a clue on how a date should go. He'd not been on one years -- he had to pause to think of how long it'd been, and it was at least a decade and a half any way he looked at it -- and even then, casual conversation wasn't really his forte. It'd be even harder with a complete stranger.

And a lovely one, too. He'd spent two days trying to scrub his mind of the girl in the photograph, but to no avail.

Saturday came, and his nervous habits along with it. He'd told Pyro that he'd set up a reservation for six o'clock at a very nice restaurant in the town nearby. It was the kind of place where the menus were mostly in French and one was expected to dress appropriately -- it was probably far too fancy for the occasion, but his choices were a bit limited around Sawmill.

Sniper arrived fifteen minutes prior, parking his camper and adjusting his tie for the umpteenth time. If he waited on the sidewalk, surely he'd see her and recognize her. Or maybe Pyro would have told her who to look for.

And if she didn't come at all, he could go back to the base and write this off as a foolish endeavor after all. At least he'd be able to say he tried.