The waiter sets the plate of food down in front of Rayna. “Cheese ravioli,” he says with an accent that reminds her of Rachel. “Would you like a bit of parmesan?”

She bites her lip. “Um. Sure.” Whatever that is. She watches with fascination as he spins a contraption in his hand and out comes little white shavings, which he shakes onto her food.

I’ve got to get one of those.

Toraf leans in beside her. “How am I supposed to eat this?” he whispers.

It’s a good question. The salad was a confusing affair as well. Some of it was messy, but some could be picked up with fingers. She eyes his heaping plate of what the waiter called pasta alfredo. Or something. “It has sauce on it. Remember what Rachel told us? If it looks messy, then we should use a fork or a spoon instead of our hands.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He picks up his spoon and starts assaulting his meal with it. He’s not very good at eating pasta alfredo, Rayna realizes. But at least he’s making an effort, winding it around the handle of his spoon like a good sport. “My spoon’s not working,” he whispers.

Emma clears her throat from across the table. She averts her eyes to her own plate, slowly twirling the long stringy things around her fork, using the spoon to bundle it all neatly into something bite sized. Toraf watches, and picks up his fork with new determination. After several minutes of careful, awkward maneuvering, he has a forkful of pasta alfredo. He shovels it into his mouth proudly. “Schee? I jot jis,” he says.

Rayna uses the collar of his shirt to wipe a glob of sauce off his chin. She doesn’t want the humans here to think he’s uncivilized. “Schanks,” he says.

Emma clears her throat again, and makes a show of pulling the green cloth from her lap and dabbing it at the corners of her mouth. “Oh,” Rayna says. “I forgot.” Rachel had already taught her about using napkins. It had been one of her biggest pet peeves, when Rayna used the back of her hand to wipe with. She unravels her silverware and places her napkin on her lap.

Spearing one of the big squares on her plate, she nibbles at the corner of it even though she’s starving, remembering Rachel’s admonition that “tiny bites are ladylike”. She’s not exactly sure what that means, but it sounded like being “ladylike” was a good thing, so she goes with it. Emma gives her an approving look.

Sometimes Emma can be useful.

Galen on the other hand, seems excessively amused. “Enjoying your human date?” he asks.

Rayna sets her fork down, then uses her cloth thing to blot at any sauce that might have escaped her lips. It just wouldn’t do to back talk Galen with a messy face. “Actually, no. This is boring. Why do humans like this? We can eat at home.”

Toraf nods, finally swallowing his food. “I agree. What’s so special about going somewhere else to have your meal? I’m much more comfortable at your house, Galen.”

“Maybe you’ll like the movie better,” Emma says optimistically. “It’s a comedy.”

“What exactly is a movie?” Toraf asks. He’s got this darling, wary look on his face that Rayna would like to kiss away. But she’ll never do it—not in front of company, anyway.

“You know how you watch those cartoons at Galen’s house?” Rayna reminds him gently. “It’s kind of like that. Right, Emma?”

Emma grins. “Sort of. A movie has real human actors in it.”

“You mean like Batman?” Toraf says, twisting more pasta around his fork.

“Yes. Only…Funnier,” Emma says.

“Batman isn’t funny at all,” Toraf says. “Except for his clothes look funny.”

“That’s a costume—you know what? Nevermind. You’ll see what kind of funny it is when we get there okay?”