by J. Judkins
Angel’s eyes opened and focused on her. Kim jerked back.
"What were you doing?" Angel asked, not sounding at all sleepy.
Kim tried to think of an acceptable lie.
Don’t tell her she wasn’t breathing!
"I was staring at your breasts!"
Angel looked down at her herself, then back to Kim. "Is there something wrong with them?"
"No, I was only looking. Nothing wrong with them. They look good to me, but you should...ah...cover them up. Or something,” Kim stammered, blushing hotly. “Did you want breakfast?"
"Naturally, I would want breakfast."
That was enough for Kim. She fled for the kitchen.
On a typical day, Kim never ate breakfast. Cooking was one of those activities other people did, and she had no intention of joining their ranks. Today, however, the act of cooking and preparing food served as a welcome distraction. She had bacon, eggs and toast ready by the time Angel wandered in a few minutes later.
Kim took one look at her, then turned her attention to the wall. It was a fascinating wall, full of crisscrossing lines in an intricate pattern she’d never fully appreciated before until now.
Angel walked around to interpose herself between the fascinating wall and Kim. In response, Kim shifted her full attention to the ceiling. The ceiling fan needed dusting.
"I removed my clothes last night before taking the shower, and now I can’t find them," said Angel.
Kim now remembered picking up Angel’s clothes and tossing them into the hamper to be washed. It hadn’t registered with her at the time that they were all the clothes Angel had in the world and conceivably she might want them back the next day. She left the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with an armful of new clothes and handed them to Angel.
Kim’s eyes remained averted while Angel dressed herself. When things seemed to quiet down, Kim risked a glance. Angel was now dressed, but seemed as troubled as before.
"Is something wrong?" Kim asked.
"No panties?"
Again, Kim left the room. Angel waited until after Kim returned and handed her a pair before she even started taking off her pants.
Kim was running out of things to look at that weren’t Angel.
Is she doing this deliberately?
"Is this embarrassing you?" Angel asked.
"Nooo. Why would it? We’re both girls. Nothing unusual."
"You’re staring up at the ceiling."
"Yes. Well. How did you sleep last night?"
"I may have dreamed, but I don’t remember it. That is normal for dreams."
After another minute of staring intently at the refrigerator, she dared to look. Angel was now fully dressed and seated at the table. Kim let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She set a plate in front of Angel and poured two glasses of orange juice before sitting down opposite her.
Angel waited until Kim started to drink. "Why didn’t you want me to sleep with you?" she asked.
Kim went into a coughing fit. Angel watched her without comment.
"Because it isn’t done, Angel,” Kim managed, setting her glass down. “It isn’t normal for a person to sleep in the same bed as another person right after they first meet."
"Is this a cultural thing?"
Kim thought about it. "Yes."
"Oh. Thank you for explaining."
Kim kept her expression neutral. She knew people could and often did meet up and jump into bed with each other on the first night, but there was no way in hell she was getting into a conversation about casual sex with Angel. Besides, she was no expert on the matter. She’d never been in a relationship. They held no interest for her.
As they finally settled down to eat, Kim took note of how Angel seemed to be mimicking her table manners. On impulse, Kim put two strips of bacon on her toast, folded it into a crude bacon sandwich, and took a bite. Angel ate a little more of her egg before she copied her. Kim noted she tried to make the action look casual, as if she'd done it before.
Kim hid an amused smile. "Do you like it?"
"Yes."
"Is this what you’re used to, where you come from?"
"We also have food where I come from."
Not exactly what she meant, but she was getting used to Angel’s mode of speech.
After breakfast, Kim went about the house in her morning ritual to find all the minor things she needed for work. This was normally done without conscious effort, but having Angel in the room watching her every move made her self-conscious and slowed her down.
Angel was wearing her curious expression, which consisted of a puzzled look with an occasional slight tilt of the head. Kim tried to pay attention to her task, but it was a losing battle. Angel’s constant scrutiny was disconcerting.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked.
“I have to go to work.”
"I also have to go to work."
Kim stopped in mid-search. "Wait, what? Are you saying you have a job?"
Angel nodded. “During the night, I recalled selective parts of my memory. I am a tourist, here from a foreign land to see the sights and get away from it all. I became unfortunate and hit my head, which caused me to lose my memory and misplace my luggage, passport, identification and all of my money."
"And half your clothes in a fire?"
"Yes. There was a fire."
"Okay." Kim nodded, thinking the matter closed as she resumed her search. She’d found everything except her sunglasses.
Angel followed her. "I have prepared proof to verify--"
"I said, it’s okay. I believe you.”
Angel gave Kim her unique mix of a confused and irritated expression. "Thank you."
None of it was true, of course. Kim didn’t believe her for an instant, but shooting holes in Angel’s story was not a good long-term strategy.
"There are other things I may have lost, but I cannot recall them as I have lost my memory. In addition, I do not wish to return to my place of origin. I request that you do not inform the local authorities. Is this requirement acceptable?"
"What exactly do you do as a tourist?"
"My job is merely to go out and observe your culture. I wish to see the sights and get away from it all."
"Merely?"
“Merely,” confirmed Angel. “Simply. There is nothing unusual about it, and no cause for alarm.”
Cause for alarm. Sure, that didn’t sound suspicious at all!
With a triumphant grin, Kim found her elusive sunglasses on the floor next to the couch. She hurried to the front door but didn’t open it. Her hand rested on the handle as she gathered her thoughts.
“Is something the matter?” Angel asked, giving another confused look with the head tilt again.
“No. Nothing’s the matter. I’m just worried about you. Maybe I should go with you?”
“Why would you be worried about me? I am not a danger to others. There’s nothing unusual or special about me.”
“I’m worried for your safety, not the safety of others,” said Kim. “If you want me to show you around the city, I could drive you.”
“I’m capable of defending myself against external threats.”
"I have time off this weekend," Kim pressed. "I’d love the opportunity to show you around, but you’d have to wait until then."
"When is 'this weekend'?”
“Today is Wednesday, so three days from now.”
“I will consider it.”
Kim tried again. “If you explore by yourself, you’ll just be wasting time. I think you should have someone with you who knows the city. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“The desire to maintain a low profile is in my own self-interest. I have no interest in getting in trouble.”
That at least made sense. Of course Angel would want to avoid notice if she could possibly help it. If anything did happen, and she managed to get herself in trouble, Kim doubted Angel would be the type to stick around to accept responsibility. A
ngel seemed more a “flee the scene” type of person.
Kim decided to let it go. If Angel left, then she left. It was out of her hands. Short of personally staying here, she couldn’t stop her. Besides, if she kept fighting her on this, Angel might decide to try her luck elsewhere.
Couldn’t risk that. She needed to keep Angel around to find out more about her.
Kim returned to the kitchen and pulled open a drawer. It was full of old batteries, pens, condiments, and other miscellaneous trash she might have a need for someday that she couldn’t bring herself to throw away. After rummaging around, she found the key-ring she was looking for and handed it to Angel. “This is for the front door, the big one’s the security door. If you do leave, lock up behind you.”
“Naturally, I will do this.”
Guess that was it. There was nothing more to be said. Kim felt as if she were leaving a puppy home alone for the first time. At least Angel had some workable knowledge of her environment. Kim was going to have to roll the dice and see what happened.
Chapter Four
Kim’s job at GDI Industries was not a stressful one. She was one of three assigned to the task of bringing order out of chaos. In short, she managed other people’s work, taking what others created and archiving it away into a form others could find should they come looking for it in the future. She firmly believed her job would be among the first to go if the company ever had to downsize.
The afternoon rush had ended and it was time to relax. But today was different. Instead of picking up a book as she normally would, Kim sat back in her chair and thought about Angel.
Given the invasive, sociable nature of her co-workers, Kim’s departure from her normal behavior would have been noticed and remarked upon, had they seen it. This was a benefit of cubicle-land which her co-workers didn’t appreciate. The isolation provided Kim an excuse to be antisocial.
Kim didn’t care that her station was little more than a desk and three and a half walls, surrounded by thirty more identical to it in every direction. She welcomed the illusion of privacy. The soulless grey walls didn’t bother her. Others went out of their way to decorate their workspaces, trying to save what they could of their sanity. Kim’s own walls were empty, a noticeable exception to the rule. She’d rather have nothing at all around her than give others a window into her own, personal life.
She attributed her good mood to confidence, not the bliss of ignorance. The alien woman had been easy to figure out. After her little speech about “avoiding authorities” and “maintaining a low profile,” Kim felt certain Angel wouldn’t do anything extraordinary and risk jeopardizing the security she’d found.
Perhaps she might go out for an hour or so to wander around, but without a vehicle of her own, how far could she get? Far more likely she’d want to stay home and avoid anyone else.
This attitude persisted throughout the remainder of the work day. Kim couldn’t keep herself from smiling and couldn’t wait to get home. When the day ended, she took full advantage of her light work load and stood among the first to clock out and leave. If the others noticed her excitement or the change in her behavior, they kept those opinions to themselves.
Kim’s good mood began to fray around the edges as she crossed the parking lot to her car. What had Angel done in her absence? The possibilities were endless.
As she navigated her way through the evening traffic, her apprehension grew. Confidence gave way to worry. Angel was interested in maintaining a low profile, wasn’t she? Surely she wouldn’t try anything too outlandish. If Kim came home to find her condominium on fire and twenty tenants standing around outside glaring at her, she’d be just as surprised as everyone else.
Only after her building came into view did she feel herself relax her grip on the steering wheel. No noticeable fires or fire trucks anywhere. That was a good sign.
Kim unlocked the security door and climbed the long stairs to her apartment, but hesitated at the front door, wondering if Angel was knee-deep in constructing an alien device out of the gutted remains of her toaster and refrigerator or whatever electronics she’d found lying around. Had she left? Was she even still here?
After taking a deep breath, she opened the door. No smoke poured out.
Inside, she found Angel sitting on the living room couch. She was reading a book. The Caligarian Candidate. She’d changed her clothes, too, Kim noted, but what surprised her was the fact Angel was reading at all.
Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to Kim to wonder whether Angel could even read the local language. Now that she thought about it, conceivably it would be stranger still if Angel couldn't read. The fact that Angel spoke without an accent should have clued her in.
Kim ached to know specifics about her, but she couldn’t think of a good way to start a conversation. She’d lived her entire life without social skills and never thought she’d need them.
Rather than stand in place like an idiot and try to think of things to say, Kim left for the kitchen. What do aliens like to eat? She knew from television, reptilian aliens liked to snack on live mice and people when they could get them, but beyond that, nothing.
What about a restaurant? Forcing Angel to choose from a menu could say a lot about her biology.
Kim returned to the living room. "Would you like to go out to eat? I've got a good restaurant in mind."
Angel smiled. "Yes. I would like that."
Kim gave a curt nod and left to make preparations. She hadn't expected Angel to say no, with her trying to blend in, and all that.
Kim didn’t have a clue if reservations were even needed at the particular restaurant she selected, but she made them anyway. No other time was spent on preparations. This was just dinner, after all, and nothing special. It wasn't as if they were going on a date or anything like that.
She didn’t want Angel selecting the same food she had eaten that morning, so Kim chose a restaurant that didn’t have a breakfast menu. To do otherwise would have defeated the purpose, namely getting a hint at what aliens like Angel preferred to eat. Hopefully, the restaurant itself wouldn’t prove too expensive.
As they drove, neither attempted to engage the other in small talk, and Kim was grateful for that. Such things always bored her. The weather was the weather and there was nothing anyone could do about it, and she felt fine, thanks for asking. The fact that neither she nor Angel cared to fill the time helped her relax.
She held the door open for Angel as they went in. The restaurant’s interior was comfortably cool and far darker inside. A pleasant, soft melody from the 90s played in the background. Nearly half the seats were filled.
A tall, well-dressed man approached them, smiling pleasantly.
"Kim Rowland for two. I have a reservation," Kim said. "Would you give us someplace out of the way? Preferably away from anybody else?"
The man gave a hint of a smile and nodded. "Certainly. Right this way."
He led them up to the restaurant's second floor and to a booth close to the corner. They passed a man and a woman more absorbed in conversation and each other than their food, but other than that, the entire floor was empty. Everyone else seemed to prefer the main floor.
"Why did you want isolation?" asked Angel, once they were seated.
"I like being alone,” said Kim, then realizing how that sounded, she added, "When I'm out with friends, we sometimes come to places like this.”
"Do you have many friends?"
"Not really," Kim admitted.
"In other words, you normally don't do this. Are we here solely for my benefit?"
"I wanted to do this with you, and I do this with my friends," she insisted.
"Am I your friend?"
"I'd like you to be."
Angel seemed to accept that, and nodded.
"There's nothing unusual about two friends having dinner together," Kim put in.
A waitress stopped at their table. "My name is Stacy. I'll be your server for this evening. What would you like to drink?"
/> "Mountain Dew, please. No ice," said Kim.
"The same,” said Angel.
Stacy gave them both menus. She winked at Kim and departed.
Kim blinked. There was something familiar about her. "Ah... What did she say her name was?" she asked, dreading the answer.
"Stacy," said Angel. "Why?"
Kim groaned. "I think I know her. Or rather, I know of her. She works at the same place I do."
All at once, Kim was suddenly conscious of the environment she was in. The dim illumination. The isolation. The soft romantic music. There were even red roses on the table! She'd never even noticed them!
"Kim? You seem uncomfortable."
"She winked at me.”
"Does this mean she's romantically interested in you?"
"What? No, it means she recognized me."
"Is this a bad thing?"
"How could it be bad?" Kim exclaimed. "We're just two girls having dinner alone together in a romantic restaurant. I'm sure she won't notice the situation we're in or tell anyone at work about it!"
Angel nodded. "That's good."
Kim stared back at her, open mouthed, then turned away in frustration.
Stacy returned a moment later with their drinks. "Have you decided?" she asked.
Kim realized she hadn't even glanced at the menu, yet. “I’m going to need a few more minutes. Angel?"
"Yes?"
"Have you decided?"
"Decided on what?"
"What to eat," prompted Kim.
"Toast and eggs.”
"I'm sorry, but we don't serve breakfast here,” said Stacy.
"Oh.” Angel picked up her own menu and opened it. She scanned it for less than a second before placing it back on the table. "Chicken parmesan, please."
"I'll have the same?" said Kim. She glanced at the menu. Chicken parmesan wasn’t the first item listed. Did Angel pick it at random?
"I don't believe we've been introduced," ventured Stacy, looking to Angel.