A Date With Angel and Other Things ...

by J. Judkins

  There were three more raps on the door. Kim was only distantly aware of them.

  Kim’s attention focused on Angel gently caressing her hands. How was she supposed to explain her sudden need to rush across the room? She needed to say something. If Angel didn’t realize she’d made a mistake, Kim couldn’t afford to call attention to it.

  Don’t mention getting burned. Don’t give a hint that Angel’s cover story was just blown to smithereens. Just keep it simple.

  “Your hands looked hot!” Kim blurted.

  Angel’s smile seemed to deepen. "Your hands are hot too.”

  "No, your hands. They just...looked...hot.”

  Oh, yeah. She also needed her reason to be completely immune to being misinterpreted as romantic in any way whatsoever.

  Crap.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  "You should answer the door,” Angel said.

  “Forget about the stupid door! I don’t care about that!” Kim tightened her grip on Angel’s hands. “Listen, you need to understand. I didn’t just grab your hands for no reason! The oven is hot, and--”

  Don’t mention how it should have burned her!

  “--and I didn’t want you getting...all sweaty.”

  “What?” Angel asked.

  What? Kim echoed in her head. What! What did I just say?

  “You thought my body looked hot?” asked Angel.

  Kim recoiled. “I didn’t say that. I just thought maybe you didn’t realize how hot the oven actually was. Not you, the oven, and I was just looking from across the room. I couldn’t help but look. And you bent over to open the door so my mind may have gone in a weird direction. The oven throws off a lot of heat, and I was just thinking how hot you looked, it wasn’t your hands at all. Or not just your hands. It was the overall effect. Because of the oven.”

  She drew back and did her best to look indignant. “You think I was just looking at your body? Well, I wasn’t. I’m not a pervert.”

  The explanation made sense in her head when she didn’t take the time to think about it.

  After a pause, the knocking continued.

  Kim brightened.

  The door! That’s it!

  “Anyway, we don’t have time for this,” Kim gushed, “I need to answer the door.” She pulled her hands free and fled the kitchen.

  Kim threw open the door. A stocky man in his mid-thirties stood on the other side, dressed in a uniform she didn’t recognize.

  “Hello,” said the man. “My name is Troy Miller. We’re investigating the circumstances surrounding the transformer that overloaded yesterday, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Kim blinked.

  Oh, poopie.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kim kept her expression neutral as a wave of panic washed over her. As the feeling faded to a low burn of apprehension, she put a smile on her face. It hung there precariously, like a mask about to slip at any moment.

  "Hello, Mr. Miller, are you with the police?" she asked, trying for politeness.

  "No, ma’am. We’re working with the power district. I’m actually employed by the government.”

  Oh, that’s so much better!

  "Does this have anything to do with the seemingly random assaults and petty thefts?" she asked.

  The man’s smile dimmed just a little bit, giving Kim the impression he was masking his suspicion. Kim herself was trying for an innocent look, admittedly one with room for improvement. She made a mental note that, if she survived today, she’d get in some practice in front of a mirror.

  "No," he said.

  Not to be deterred, Kim idly waved a hand in what she hoped was a disarming manner. "I just heard about them. The assaults, I mean. From a friend."

  “As I said, we’re investigating the transformer that overloaded late yesterday afternoon.”

  "How unusual,” Kim gushed in amazement. “Do you have any suspects?"

  He cocked his head and gave a hint of a smile. "Interesting you should say that. We have a few leads and a description of a possible suspect."

  "A possible suspect. Really? That’s nice."

  "Did you see anything, or hear anything?" Miller asked.

  "How could I? I wasn’t here. It happened an hour before I came home from work."

  The agent simply stared at her, brown eyes accusing.

  "Or so I was told," Kim clarified, and gave a slight nod. She kept her movements carefully measured, not wanting her mask to slip.

  "Do you have a roommate or a houseguest? Perhaps they saw something."

  Kim expected this question to prompt the inevitable crash of Angel dropping something in the kitchen, but there was nothing.

  She waited.

  Nothing.

  Still nothing.

  “I live alone,” Kim ventured.

  Nothing continued to happen, and Kim breathed again, daring to relax. Evidently the cartoons she’d been exposed to in her childhood didn’t always reflect reality.

  “May I come in?”

  Kim gave another curt nod, her non-incriminating innocent smile never wavering.

  Agent Miller took a long look around before taking a seat in the living room’s only chair. Kim sat on the couch that doubled as Angel’s bed. She propped Angel’s pillow under her arm, then leaned against it, trying to make the action look nonchalant and completely natural.

  Nothing unusual, the couch doesn’t double as a bed, she projected. Nothing to see here. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for. Move along.

  "Where were you at four o’clock yesterday afternoon?" he asked.

  "I was working. I get off work at four-thirty."

  "I see."

  "You can check if you like. I’ll give you my office number."

  "That won’t be necessary."

  From the kitchen came the distinctive sound of an oven door opening, closely followed by the clatter of a cookie sheet being set down on the oven burners.

  The agent looked suspicious.

  Kim looked non-suspicious.

  "Is someone else here?" he asked.

  "I have a cat. Her name is Angel. Is there anything else you’d like to know? I wouldn’t want to keep you." For a second, she considered yelling at her nonexistent cat to keep it down, but quickly rejected the idea. She couldn’t risk getting an answer.

  "One of your neighbors from downstairs, a Mrs. Andrews, told me she believes another woman has been staying here," said Miller.

  Kim reacted to the accusation with the skill and talent of a professional politician who flunked out of high school and got into office on a technicality. "Oh, really? She did? I didn’t know that," she gushed, looking around with an expression that could be best described as thinly disguised panic.

  Mr. Miller smiled a thin little smile. "Perhaps you’d care to...amend your earlier statement?"

  “Yes. I would, actually,” Kim took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. “I do have a statement to make. I’d like to say the following. Mrs. Andrews should mind her own damned business!”

  “I meant about your nonexistent houseguest?”

  That was all Miller needed to push Kim over the edge. She cracked under the pressure, her eyes downcast, slumping in defeat.

  Trapped in a lie of her own creation!

  But her dejection didn’t last long.

  With fists clenched and eyes burning, Kim rallied against the mental assault. Despair gave way to confidence, a steely determination augmented and strengthened by a faulty memory that simply wouldn’t allow her to remember prior defeats.

  It’s not in my nature to give up!

  She wasn’t defeated. There was another way. One option remained, a way out she didn’t dare consider before now.

  It was risky, but she didn’t see a choice.

  She glanced at the kitchen. She couldn’t hear Angel, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t listening in.

  Kim weighed her options. If Angel had listened in on their conversation, she would have heard Mil
ler talking about a possible witness to her crimes. That would have prompted her to stay as far away as possible.

  On the other hand, if Angel were out of earshot and hadn’t been listening in, the results would be the same. Angel’s innate paranoia would cause her to shy away from a stranger at the door.

  That meant she was safe. Logic told her Angel wasn’t close by, but even then, she hesitated. It was dangerous, what she now fully intended to say.

  What choice is there? Her lies and deceptions had failed. This was the only option. Only one path remained available to her.

  This is the only way!

  Kim leaned forward.

  The agent also leaned forward.

  She gathered her courage, took one, final, last minute look around, then lifted her hand to muffle her words and spoke in a confidential whisper, "Her name is Angel. She’s my girlfriend. I’m living with her."

  "Have you known her long?" the agent asked, also whispering.

  "Nearly a year now," Kim lied.

  "Why are we whispering?"

  Kim didn’t have an answer prepared, so she built upon her previous story. "It’s nearly time for our anniversary, and I’ve got something special planned for her. I’d like to keep her in the dark."

  The agent nodded once and leaned back.

  Kim did the same, suppressing the urge to grimace as she did so. As lame excuses went, this was a bad one.

  Fortunately, the agent seemed to accept it. "So you’re in a relationship,” he said. “Why did you feel the need to hide it from me?"

  "I’m still a little embarrassed. I haven’t even told my friends and family yet. You understand, don’t you?

  He nodded. "I’d still like to interview her."

  "That’s not a good idea," Kim said, shaking her head while internally reeling at the thought. An interview would be disastrous. Angel’s background stories were ridiculously transparent. She’d give herself away in the first minute.

  "Why not?"

  "She’s very shy. I’m afraid I couldn’t ask her to--" Kim’s voice trailed off and died in her throat, eyes widening in surprise and horror.

  Angel walked into the room from the hall that lead to the bedroom. She was wearing a brunette wig, dark sunglasses and a black, Fluttershy "Fus ro dah" My Little Pony T-shirt.

  "Has my girlfriend been talking about me?" she asked, giving Kim a winning smile.

  Kim was shocked on a multitude of levels.

  The fact that Angel blatantly inserted herself into the conversation had been a shock, certainly, but miniscule in comparison to other differences that hit her immediately afterwards. The first being Angel’s disguise, easily the worst she’d ever seen. Second, Angel’s voice wasn’t just a changed version of itself or simply altered in pitch. It was completely different. It sounded as if Angel had traded her natural voice for another’s from an entirely different country, complete with authentic-sounding foreign accent.

  "Have the two of you been together long?" the agent was asking, and Kim blinked, suddenly coming back to herself. She knew she’d missed part of the conversation.

  "Not very long," said Angel.

  "I told you! Anniversary, remember?" Kim corrected loudly. What was Angel doing? This was terrible! She was already contradicting her story!

  "That’s a lovely accent you have,” continued the agent, ignoring Kim. “Where are you from?"

  "I’m a tourist."

  "She was a tourist. Now she’s living here, with me," Kim declared. Again, a bit too loudly.

  The agent picked up on Kim’s discomfort, then blinked as if suddenly understanding the reason behind it. He held up his hands. "I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cause any trouble. I may work for the government, but I’m not here to ask about her legal status, if that’s what you’re worried about."

  Kim’s eyes were a bit wild. "Who's worried about that? Not me!"

  But the damage had been done. Angel picked up on the part of Miller’s statement that concerned her. "Legal status?”

  "It’s nothing to worry about, Angel," Kim told her hurriedly.

  But Angel refused to let it go. She addressed the agent directly. "I’d like to avoid government notice if I can."

  "I’m sure we all would," the agent snorted.

  "Perhaps I should clarify, which part of my background story seems untruthful to you?"

  "What?"

  "He’s talking about staying in the country illegally, which has nothing to do with you," Kim said, hoping Angel would understand her verbal cue and her not-so-subtle message would sink in.

  The message didn’t sink in. It sailed over Angel’s head. “As a government official, are you susceptible to bribes?” She gestured toward the kitchen. “We have chocolate chip cookies in the next room, fresh from the oven.”

  “What?”

  “Angel, you don’t have anything to worry about,” Kim said again.

  "She’s right, you should listen to her,” Agent Miller echoed. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  Kim dared to relax.

  "But to answer your question," he continued brightly, "if it were true, all you’d have to do is get married." He snapped his fingers. "Instant citizenship."

  “Get married?” asked Angel. She looked to Kim, who wasn’t looking at Angel anymore. Her eyes were too busy bugging out.

  “Nnrg,” Kim said.

  Everyone looked at Kim as if she’d gone insane, which wasn’t a terribly inaccurate observation. She jumped from the couch, waving her arms frantically. "No! What? No! No! What are you saying? Married? Who’s getting married? Not us! Don’t tell her that!"

  Miller visibly paled. “I’m so sorry. That was the secret you had planned for her, wasn’t it? That’s it, isn’t it?"

  “Secret?” asked Angel.

  "Stop talking about it!" Kim shrieked.

  "I’m so terribly sorry.” The agent pulled at his collar with a grimace. “I never meant to cause--"

  "Stop talking about it!"

  Angel was looking from one person to the other. "Are you keeping secrets from me?"

  Kim whirled on her, a bit frantic. “Secret? What secret? It’s not a secret!"

  "Not anymore, it isn’t," grumbled Miller under his breath, then aloud, "Once again, I am so terribly sorry I gave your secret away. I didn’t know."

  "Please leave?" begged Kim.

  "Ah, we’ll be in touch. In any event, congratulations."

  "We’re not getting married!"

  The agent hurried to the door and was gone. Kim locked the door behind him and slumped against it, heart pounding wildly in her chest.

  "We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to," Angel told her in her normal voice.

  Kim twitched. "That’s good."

  "We haven’t even had sex yet. Why would we want to get married?"

  "Ahh..."

  "Don’t people normally have sex before they get married?"

  Kim didn’t answer.

  "Kim?"

  "I’m sorry. What?"

  "Don’t people normally have sex before they get married?" she asked again.

  "Lots of people do, so yes. Some don’t."

  "Did you want to do it?"

  Kim’s eyes widened. "Have sex?"

  "No. Get married."

  "Oh."

  Angel’s puzzled look returned. "Why? Would you rather have sex first?"

  Kim’s eyes widened. Her back pressed against the cold comfort of the door.

  “It’s a simple question, Kim. Which do you think should come first? Sex or marriage?”

  Kim continued to stare. She still hadn’t blinked.

  Angel sighed, then turned on her heel and headed back for the kitchen. "Never mind. I have to check the cookies, anyway."

  Kim looked for a place to sit down. She didn’t find one in the half second she allowed herself.

  She sat down anyway.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Angel stretched and yawned in a way that would have seemed provocative
to someone with a mind that appreciated such things. Kim was most assuredly not such a person, so she mostly ignored it. The meaning behind Angel’s actions were clear. It was getting late, and she was looking forward to another goodnight kiss.

  “A little early, don’t you think?” Kim remarked, hoping to discourage her.

  Angel nodded and walked away, and Kim breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she’d only bought herself time. Angel would be back.

  How did I ever get into this mess?

  Kim had spent the rest of the day wondering where Angel was going to go with the marriage talk that morning. Now she realized all that time worrying had been wasted. Angel didn’t need to follow up on it. Kim was doing it to herself, allowing it to consume her thoughts.

  Worrying about that distant threat served as an unnecessary distraction. It squandered her precious time, keeping her from focusing on her more pressing concerns. Angel was already not-so-subtly pressing for a goodnight kiss, and Kim didn’t know how to refuse her.

  The feeling of doom felt like a crushing shadow weighing her down. She couldn’t see any way to avoid it. Her fate was unchangeable.

  When Angel returned, and she would return, Kim had to put aside all the romantic implications. She needed to keep in mind it was simply a kiss, and nothing more. Kim had only been successful at putting her off this long because Angel herself wanted to put it off. She planned it this way. By delaying it, she hoped to build anticipation, to make the final experience all the sweeter.

  Angel didn’t realize Kim was indifferent to such petty romantic concerns. It would do nothing to benefit her. But that didn’t change the fact that Angel was going to kiss her. Kim’s destiny was set in stone.

  Perhaps Angel hoped the passion of the kiss would escalate into something more? If so, she was bound to be disappointed.

  Kim glared at the clock.

  What’s taking Angel so long?

  It was a little past eleven, the time when she--

  Then it dawned on her.

  Angel knows my routine!

  So that was it! Angel was waiting for Kim to take her shower, planning to intercept her before she could reach the safety of her bedroom!