A Date With Angel and Other Things ...
Page 6
At least the slow day at work had given her time to decide what to do. First on her list, she needed to set up a bank account for Angel.
Yesterday, Angel tried to feed her a story about her tourist job, which apparently paid good money to wander the city and take in the sights. Kim suspected it actually involved wandering the city, taking in the sights, and beating up the locals for their pocket change.
She didn’t know who Angel’s alleged victims were, but if she really was an alien spy assigned to assess Earth’s defenses under cover as a tourist, then it was up to Kim to stop her.
But she couldn’t do it openly. She needed to be sneaky.
Angel told her she was on vacation. It didn’t matter if Angel followed up by saying she had a paid tourist job, because vacations implied no work at all. If Kim could insist hard enough that no one earned money while on vacation, Angel would be compelled to agree with her in order to avoid suspicion. She'd turn Angel’s own desire to blend in against her.
It would cost her financially, but it was in both their interests to stay below the radar.
With this in mind, Kim went to her bank to open a new account and transferred five hundred dollars into it. She’d give the new ATM card to Angel and show her how to use it. From there, it would be out of her hands.
Next on her list, the bookstore.
Kim was an avid book reader, and loved science fiction and fantasy stories best of all. As far as she knew from a lifetime of exposure to the genre, aliens who tried to get together with Earth girls were always more or less human in appearance. If they weren’t humanoid at the very least, the women wouldn’t be attracted to them.
These aliens may have one or two natural abilities that may look like superpowers to anyone not used to them, but for the most part, they looked and acted as human as anyone else. A trained professional with enough medical experience could identify their extra-terrestrial nature, but a casual observer could not.
Language was never a problem in those stories. All of them knew the local language or at least had convenient translation devices, but details often tripped them up.
Angel spoke English without an accent, but seemed to have only had a passing familiarity with local customs. When she ran across something unfamiliar to her, she researched it, but didn’t bother researching a subject until it directly concerned her. Kim guessed this was how she’d found out about the showers.
To Kim, Angel seemed to be posing as human. Her emotions ran from exaggerated to practically non-existent, and she had no sense of feminine modesty. As for what Angel was exactly, Kim guessed she was either a genetically identical copy of a true human model with a few minor improvements, or an alien that by purest coincidence looked human. Science fiction stories were full of those. Even her memory loss story might be true. After all, what better way to learn how to act like a native than to start from scratch?
The idea of Angel being romantically interested in her seemed bizarre, but Kim needed to plan for the possibility. If science fiction writers dreamed of aliens falling for humans and wrote stories about them, then it must at least be possible. She intended to find out more. If she could discover what methods these alien Casanovas used to sweep their intended love interests off their feet, she’d be better prepared to fend off Angel. She was not interested in a relationship. It didn’t matter if it was with an alien, attractive or not.
Kim found a parking space a short distance away from the used bookstore and strode inside, only glancing in passing at the comic books and DVDs on display before her. Books were her only concern. She allowed nothing to distract her.
She ignored the other customers. They in turn ignored her. They probably had as much interest in being social as she did, if they noticed her at all. On the off chance she attracted too much attention and one of them approached her, she knew how to handle them. Remain perfectly still. Don’t respond. Don’t make eye contact. Eventually, they’d go away. Like the T-Rex, a geek's vision acuity was based on movement.
The only thing that concerned her was the fact that she fully intended to purchase a romance novel. The genre didn’t interest her, and the cover art would be downright embarrassing. She’d considered doing so with her own book reader, but hers was a first-generation model and its online abilities were painfully slow.
No, it was far more preferable to find a physical copy and get out quickly.
Half an hour later, Kim still had yet to find a science fiction romance book that met her needs. She admonished herself for not planning ahead. It would have been a simple matter to use her computer at work to make a list of possible books based on keywords and subjects. Then she could have gone right to them and been done, assuming there were any here to be found.
On second thought, that would have been a bad idea. She didn’t need nosy co-workers getting into her internet history and finding clues about her sudden interest in alien romance. Individually, they weren’t that clever, but they had social abilities Kim couldn’t hope to comprehend, a communal hive-mind of sorts. It would be folly to underestimate their collective intelligence. Best she do things the slow way.
After another half hour, frustration was eating away at her resolve. Nothing jumped out at her. Romance had always a subplot in science fiction at best, and she couldn’t find a book summary to match her specific requirements.
There had to be something. She couldn’t go home empty handed.
Her options in science fiction exhausted, Kim went to the romance section. It was less likely she’d find any alien characters here, but it was possible.
After a mere ten minutes, Kim was beginning to despair. She skimmed the titles and glanced at the covers at a faster and faster rate, making snap judgments as to their quality. None of them fit the guidelines, either.
One option remained, the one she’d actively tried not to think about. The lesbian romance subsection.
It made sense, the more she thought about it. Traditional romance books were male/female oriented. They simply didn’t apply in her situation. Kim needed specialized books that could tell her how to best prepare against a female opponent.
Assuming what she suspected was indeed possible, there must be something to the romance angle. Angel would doubtless use those romantic methods in her efforts to seduce her, assuming that was her plan.
Kim was woefully inexperienced in the romance department, but she felt she had a basic understanding what methods a man would use to seduce a woman. Those methods included corny lines, feigned common interests, and liberal amounts of alcohol.
But women seducing women were another story. Angel was a woman, or at least, posing as one. She’d use a woman’s methods even if her target was another woman. Kim needed to know what those methods were so she could defend herself against them, and that meant conducting research outside of what she knew.
Her decision made, Kim selected three books, each the first in a series. It stood to reason the first book must have been good if it generated interest in a sequel, and Kim had no interest in reading boring books. She looked over the story summaries on the back but didn’t dare examine their covers. If she became too embarrassed, she risked losing the strength she needed to face the cashier to pay for them.
She marched to the front and placed the three face down, blushing hotly. She’d never purchased a romance book in her entire life. Now she was buying three.
The cashier was a younger, attractive-looking brunette in her early twenties. Kim had seen her before, but never talked to her. The cashier picked up the books, grinned, and scanned them. Kim refused to make eye contact. After paying cash, she all but fled the store, not waiting for a receipt
It was nearly seven o’clock by the time she pulled in to her garage.
After conducting a brief search of the house, she found Angel in the second bedroom, seated at Kim’s desk in front of her computer.
Kim always prided herself on her computer set-up. In her spare bedroom, turned gaming room, were two desks. The first was
situated a good six feet away from the other against the far wall, its only job to hold her flat screen television. The smaller desk was for her keyboard and mouse, where Kim would normally sit in her favorite chair. Wires were carefully stuffed just out of sight. Overhead a ceiling fan sat idle, a trap for the unwary. Kim didn’t trust it not to fly loose and kill her if she ever dared set it to its maximum setting on a hot day.
It didn’t look professional per se, but it did look impressive.
There was a path on the right side of the second desk that allowed passage to the bookshelves which faced each other on opposite sides of the room. Kim had inherited both ceiling-high monstrosities from the previous owner who couldn’t be bothered to take them with him when he moved. The extra chair just behind and to the left of the first chair was there only because Kim’s mother didn’t have the space for it and Kim thought she could possibly use it in the distant future.
The sight of Angel at her favorite chair using her computer irritated her, but only for a moment. It wasn’t as if she’d set down ground rules, and she’d never told Angel she couldn’t use it, so she decided to let it go. There wasn’t anything personal on it anyway, unless one counted fan fiction stories she’d picked up off the internet.
After putting her new books on the desk corner and promptly forgetting about them, Kim fished out Angel’s new ATM card. "This is for you."
Angel took the card and examined it. She looked to Kim for an explanation.
"I thought since you’re vacationing as a tourist, you might as well take an actual vacation,” Kim said. “That means, no more going in to work. People on vacation don’t work. I don’t want you to worry about earning extra money while you’re here, so you can use this for petty expenses. This is your money. No need to pay me back. It’s a gift. If you start to run low, let me know."
"Thank you for trusting me."
Kim looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. Trust? She didn’t feel an abundance of trust. Would she come to regret helping Angel financially?
This is the best alternative. If I leave things alone, Angel will continue to beat up random strangers to provide financial evidence of a job. Anything that can stop that is a good idea.
And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might regret her decision further down the line. If things went bad, would she be held responsible for voluntarily helping an alien scout accomplish her mission on Earth?
What was Angel’s actual mission? Kim still didn’t know. She’d guessed it had something to do with scouting based on the tourist persona Angel fed her, but it was only a guess. What did she truly know?
Kim never entertained the idea of turning her over to the government, but it was not due to a lack of patriotism. She instinctively believed she could do a better job of watching Angel than any government bureaucrat with a limited imagination. Her knowledge in science fiction gave her an edge. If a government agency did exist that involved itself in alien activity, how effective could it possibly be denying its own existence and denying any results?
Besides, Angel may not trust her completely, but she did think she had Kim fooled. That was a huge advantage. Kim was in a position to discover any evil alien plots before they hatched and caused irreparable damage. If Angel started building a weapon in her garage, then she’d call the authorities.
Or maybe sell it for millions on EBAY.
“You should change the card’s PIN at some point,” said Kim. She dropped into the not-as-comfortable chair and stretched out her legs. “Any thoughts on what you want to buy?"
"I was thinking of buying clothes,” Angel replied. “The woman at work quickly deduced I was wearing clothes that once belonged to you. Also, I would like to buy my own panties."
Kim blushed anew. "I gave you some. I wanted to ask, why in the world did you tell Marsha they were mine and not yours?"
"In our conversations, you never made the distinction. You gave me clothes and told me they were now mine. As for the panties, you said I could borrow yours. This implied you wished to retain ownership."
"That isn’t what I meant."
"I agree with you. I didn’t believe this was your intention either, so I asked for clarification on two separate occasions. Each time, you became embarrassed and avoided answering me."
"Fine,” Kim snapped. “We’ll buy some clothes for you to wear. Happy?"
"Just peachy."
Kim rose to her feet. “Let’s go.”
They went to the local superstore that offered anything and everything and occasionally sold things cheaper than Amazon. Kim parked her Corolla in the first available spot she could find, not at all interested in prolonging her shopping experience.
If Angel took note of Kim’s impatience, she declined to mention it.
As they walked into the store, they were greeted by the sights and sounds of too many people milling about with not enough worthwhile things to do with their time. Angel made a beeline to the clothing section. Nothing distracted her. Kim followed along in her wake.
While Kim couldn’t prove it, it seemed to her as if Angel based her selection of clothing entirely on what others around her were wearing. The only exceptions were the bras and panties, which she selected with the same air of nonchalance as she did the rest.
And then, without warning, the shopping trip was over. Angel began to lead them to the cashiers at the front of the store.
“Aren’t you going to try anything on?” Kim asked.
Angel stopped at once. She turned to Kim, a questioning look in her eye. “I should try them on here?”
“Why not? I’d rather not come back tomorrow to do this again if they don’t fit.”
Angel still seemed unconvinced, so Kim played her trump card. “Anyone else would try them on,” she said with a shrug, leaving the rest unsaid.
You wouldn’t want to stand out, would you?
The subtle hint was enough. They returned to the women’s section, but the moment Angel disappeared into the changing room, Kim started to have second thoughts about her recommendation.
Angel was buying bras in addition to new clothes, and Kim had never demonstrated for her how to wear them properly. She still wasn’t sure if her pants demonstration had been necessary or not, but a bra was complex in comparison. Angel might be able to puzzle it out without assistance, but based on Kim’s luck, that wasn’t at all likely. She was bound to have problems.
As the minutes passed, Kim's apprehension grew. Any second now, Angel would open the door and ask Kim to please come inside and help put one on. The odds were even up she’d be topless and standing at the doorway in full view of the entire store when she did it.
Kim took a quick look around. She counted seven people in the area, but if Angel made such an appearance, all of them would give Kim the stare. She would never survive it.
What we should have done is taken the chance and bought them! If they didn’t fit, take them back. Simple. Better to be inconvenienced than death by embarrassment.
As predicted, the door opened a crack. "Kim?"
Kim was already moving, not waiting for anyone to move out of her way. No doubt she drew the attention of everyone around her as she hurried past, but this was better than the alternative. Kim closed the door behind her and locked it.
Once inside, she was surprised to see Angel wearing jeans and correctly wearing one of the bras.
"But I thought…” Kim stammered. “Why? What did you ask me in here for?"
"I wanted to know if you thought these clothes suited me. Naturally, we also wear clothes where I come from, but due to my memory loss, I don't remember wearing clothes with material such as this."
Kim tried not to look. "Yes. It looks good on you."
"I’ve noticed the bra material is subtly different from that of the pants. Feel?" Angel seized Kim’s hand and pressed it against her breasts.
"Ahhh, yes! It feels very nice!" Kim tried to yank her hand back.
Angel released her. "Very good. I will buy it."
Kim’s eyes widened with alarm. "What are you doing?" she demanded, backing into a corner.
"We need to pay for them, don’t we?"
She blinked. "Oh, yes. Yes, of course."
In a flash, Angel slipped off her pants and these were also set aside. She was wearing panties beneath, which was a small mercy, but the knowledge didn’t make Kim feel any better.
There was a knock at the door. Angel unlocked and opened it before Kim could think to protest.
"Yes?" asked Angel.
The saleswoman took in the scene before her. She looked first to Angel standing almost completely naked and then to Kim, wide-eyed, panicked, and looking guilty as hell in the corner, then cleared her throat.
"I’m sorry, but only one person is allowed at a time per changing room,” she said, sounding irritated. “Store policy. Your girlfriend will have to wait outside."
"I required a second opinion," Angel told her. "I wanted Kim to feel my breasts and judge for herself whether--"
"We were just leaving!" Kim interrupted. She quickly gathered the remaining merchandise and brushed past the saleswoman. It only occurred to her as she hurried away that she’d never denied the girlfriend comment. That just added more fuel to the fire. She’d never felt more embarrassed in her entire life.
Kim could hear Angel close behind her, following her out. "Kim?"
Everyone around her was staring. All conversations had stopped. A few were fumbling with their cell phones and using them to snap pictures.
Kim couldn’t understand it. How could they know what just happened? Were they listening? How could they know?
"Kim?"
Kim ignored her.
"Kim!" Angel called, more insistently this time.
"What! What is it?"
"I need my clothes back."
And here she thought she couldn’t get any more embarrassed.
Chapter Nine