by J. Judkins
Okay. Fine. It led to sex. Lots and lots of sex. The “we can't do this, we can't, oh, don't listen to me, keep doing that, oh, God, yes, yes, please, right there, oh, God, please don't stop, I love it!” kind of sex.
Kim paused and took a moment to reread what she had so far, then tore the paper into pieces, tore those pieces into smaller pieces, and threw them all away in two different garbage cans three cubicles away from each other.
She resolved to do the rest in her head.
Kim didn't care about Angel’s lies until the moment Angel said she loved her.
But is Angel still pretending?
That was the big question. It all came down to that.
From Kim's perspective, either Angel lied about her memories, or she did not. Both versions of Angel possessed zero infiltration skills. Both made up stories when needed, and both knew little more than the basics about local culture and went to the internet for more information.
The first version she decided to call Truthful Angel. This Angel didn't lie about her memory loss because it happened to be genuine. If that were true, it further implied Angel had no reason to lie later on. After all, from Truthful Angel’s perspective, she was nothing more than an ordinary human woman. No secret missions to conceal because she’d forgotten she had one.
Truthful Angel may have entered into a relationship because she thought Kim desired her, but over time her feelings had changed. Now they seemed genuine. Angel told Kim she loved her. She’d have no reason to say such a thing, unless she actually meant what she said.
Kim sat back in her chair as she pondered her conclusion. This version of Angel’s behavior made sense. She couldn’t see any contradictions beyond Angel blatantly lying about her tourist job.
The second type of Angel was the literal opposite. Deceiver Angel didn’t forget a thing but lied on that first day and pretended to forget the rest to avoid answering questions and supplying answers.
Deceiver Angel also had to believe Kim was an idiot for believing her wild stories. Despite living with Kim in close proximity, she never seemed to worry about Kim figuring things out. Only the big bad government and its agents gave her pause.
Then Angel claimed to love Kim, or, at least, she threw the possibility out there for consideration.
The first version had no further secrets to confess.
But if the second version truly loved her, then her newfound love for Kim should have compelled her to come clean about her fictional memory loss story. It was entirely possible she was still clinging to the lie because she still needed to accomplish her mission.
But Angel had reached the pinnacle of their relationship, according to her. Her position was secure. What was stopping her from confessing now?
Kim colored as the answer came to her. She’d sidetracked Angel herself, giving her something else to do. Counting the time Angel spent setting up Kim’s seduction, all of her time had been accounted for.
So why did Angel persist in maintaining the relationship?
Because of Kim, again. The woman was addicted to sex, and couldn’t get enough of her. Kim couldn’t understand what made her seem special in Angel’s eyes, but those seemed to be the facts. That line of questioning didn’t hold any further answers.
What about Angel’s secret mission, the reason why she’d been sent to Earth? If the mission existed, what would that mean?
That was easy. Truthful Angel had lost her memory. She’d forgotten the mission. By her perspective, it didn’t exist.
Deceiver Angel had been...sidetracked.
But if she hadn’t been sidetracked?
If that were true, she’d have to feel secure in her position after her success from last weekend. She’d go out and complete her mission.
Or maybe after the second night. Or the third. She was probably having too much fun.
Kim groaned and gave her forehead a thump.
Forget the stupid sex part, already! Focus, Kimmie!
Kim focused on her task, again. It all came down to Angel saying she loved her. If Deceiver Angel fell in love, she’d be consumed with guilt. Love would compel her to admit everything and beg Kim’s forgiveness. Her mission would no longer matter to her.
If Angel didn’t love her, why say it at all? What would be the benefit?
It followed that Deceiver Angel wouldn’t have said it. That meant Deceiver Angel didn’t exist. Either she would have confessed, or she’d have no reason to ‘admit’ she was in love.
That meant Truthful Angel had to be the true one. Angel really did lose her memory. And except for those glaring examples where Angel lied her ass off, Angel never lied to her. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way.
At her feet lay an empty water bottle. Kim picked it up and left for the break room. The brief walk gave her all the time she needed to fully absorb her conclusions and come to terms with them.
No more doubts. She owed Angel an apology for assuming the worst.
She returned to her desk with renewed enthusiasm.
Now, for the next item on the list.
There were people hunting Angel, and she needed to figure out what to do about them.
What exactly do I know, other than the fact that they used cameras?
Not a thing.
Okay. Focus on the cameras.
Kim sat back in her chair, thinking. Who would use them? Not the police. Cops didn't have the budget.
The government did have the finances, but only a top secret and possibly unconstitutional spy-thriller “deny our own existence” branch of the government would ever consider the possibility that someone extraordinary like Angel even existed. Such a group would have used high-tech undetectable cameras. Or at least, better concealed or camouflaged ones.
Kim minimized her work-related windows and opened up the internet browser. She picked a home security site at random and started looking at cameras, checking out what they had to offer. She spent the next hour reading comments and reviews and watching muted video demonstrations.
What she discovered didn’t surprise her. Cameras could look like nearly anything. High and low definition, motion sensitive, night vision, Wi-Fi, or any combination were possible. It all depended on what the user could afford.
Thinking of the ones she and Angel found, Kim narrowed her search to motion sensitive and night vision. The results were disappointing. She couldn’t find any that matched or were even similar to the ones Angel destroyed.
Kim tried a new angle. There had been seven cameras, total. Two were in the immediate area surrounding the clearing, three along the path, and two in the trees overlooking the parking lot. Even discounting how many other cameras there could be in any number of other sites, seven implied money hadn’t been a factor.
Kim checked the prices, again. Even the cheaper ones weren't that cheap. Such disdain for money suggested the government.
But wouldn’t they have sent trained agents? Or used better cameras? Or appropriated a spy-satellite, or something?
Sensing she’d discovered all she could from the internet, Kim cleared her internet history.
A private business could afford the cameras, but Kim had the impression that whoever owned them hadn’t acquired them earlier that day. They seemed almost generic, suggesting they’d been taken out of a storage room, somewhere.
Kim could easily imagine a company setting up cameras in dozens of locations and walking away. They wouldn’t have men watching for days on end.
She gave her chair a spin, considering. Yes, a private organization or company fit the profile.
There wasn't much she could do against a private company. Granted, she couldn’t do much against the government or police, either, but that was beside the point. What she could do was keep Angel close to home. Keep doing what she’d been doing. Give Angel a crash course on what low profile actually meant, and help her blend in. No more petty sabotage or trading in guns and cell phones for swords.
There was still that one remaining camera Kim had hidden
in the weeds. Maybe she could look up its serial number, or check the local shops to see if someone bought cameras recently. The idea had possibilities.
Sooner or later, someone was going to make a mistake. She just had to make sure it wasn’t her.
Chapter Forty-Six
Since their weekend together, Kim had been expecting Angel to be lying in wait to ambush her the moment she returned home from work. As Kim estimated her chances of resisting Angel were close to zero, she’d decided to measure success based on who received the blame for it.
This was why her arms were filled with groceries. How could she be expected to resist Angel when her arms were full? Naturally, she couldn’t. The lion’s share of the blame would fall on Angel, where it belonged.
Kim was rather proud of this tactic. Not even Angel could overcome defenses that didn’t exist! True, it was likely they’d end up in bed together, hopefully in the bedroom this time, but that couldn’t be avoided. All that mattered to her was that Angel couldn’t claim credit for it.
With mounting excitement, Kim claimed partial cover behind her front door and peered inside.
The living room was empty. Angel wasn’t there.
Kim wanted to swear. Seriously? Would it kill Angel to follow through on her plans? It wouldn’t be so bad if the threat actually manifested itself from time to time. Instead, Angel’s plan seemed to rely on the stress building up from the anticipation of it, expecting her to try something each day.
Kim knew sex was a good way to relieve stress. It was typical Angel that she engineer sex to be both the cause and the cure for stress, all at the same time.
She eased the front door closed with her foot and carried her groceries into the kitchen, unable to mask her disappointment. Disappointment, because of time wasted orchestrating a defense and implementing it. She certainly wasn’t disappointed because Angel couldn’t meet her own schedule. Not in the slightest.
As she sorted out the frozen and perishable items, her mind drifted to the confrontation to come. Tonight she’d tell Angel all about how she’d guessed Angel wasn’t human. Once everything was clear, Angel would realize Kim’s reasons for not trusting her were completely justified. She’d apologize for accusing Kim of having trust issues.
After that, it was anyone’s guess what would happen. Knowing Angel and her one-track mind, it would probably involve sex.
Kim put away the frozen food. When she opened refrigerator door, what she beheld shocked her. Angel had gone shopping, she realized, but not simply for food.
Her sex-crazed girlfriend had purchased a little something extra.
Kim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. And again. And again. Each attempt failed to calm her. Finally, she snapped up the offending item from its shelf and marched off to find Angel.
Angel didn’t look up as Kim stomped into the computer room and glowered at her.
“What’s this?” Kim demanded, and gave the offending item a shake.
Angel gave the item a long, hard look, as if not certain if Kim had asked her a trick question. “Whipped cream?”
“And what were you planning on using this for? Hmm?”
“For dessert?” Angel ventured.
Kim drew back in righteous indignation. “Well, that’s just great! So I’m a dessert, now? Is that it?”
“What?”
“I know what whipped cream is for!” Kim shook the dessert topping once again. “Is sex all you think about?”
“I really don’t understand what you’re--”
Kim placed a hand on the desk and leaned into Angel’s personal space. “Did anyone see you buy it?” she hissed, her voice low.
“Only the people at the store.”
“Dear God!” Kim looked up to the ceiling and waved her arms in a ‘what the hell?’ gesture. She whirled back on Angel. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?”
“Not really.” Angel pushed herself away from the desk. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t like whipped cream. Is that it?”
“Do you really think we need it? After less than a week?”
“I thought it might be tasty. It’s also a rich source of calcium and potassium. Would you be interested in hearing the nutritional facts?”
“I think we can get by just fine without whipped cream, thank you very much!"
“I’m not saying we can’t. Truly, I purchased it with the best of intentions. I was thinking of you, and thought you might like it from time to time.” Angel’s expression turned thoughtful. “You seem upset, and I’m curious. Have you never tried it before?”
“No, I ‘haven’t tried it before’,” Kim mocked. “What kind of a question is that?”
“Did you wish for me to return it?”
Kim held the container at arm’s length as she considered the question. “No,” she said with great hesitation, “you already bought it.”
“Are you saying you’re open to using it?”
Kim’s face twisted.
“Does that mean yes?”
“It means, I’m thinking about it.”
“Why not put it away for now? We can always use it later.”
Kim’s glower was back. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Perhaps I would. I’ve never tried whipped cream, before. Aren’t you open to new experiences?”
“You are such a sex-crazed pervert.”
Angel waved the matter aside as if she were used to such accusations. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Kim’s fingers idly traced out the lettering on the container without conscious thought. “Maybe. If you’re lucky. But only because you want it, not me,” she said, then blinked. “Wait, is that what the strawberries were for?”
“I’d already intended to purchase them, when--“
“How did you know I liked strawberries? Not that I’m admitting I like strawberries.”
“I made a guess, based on the half full carton of strawberry ice cream in the freezer.”
For a long moment, Kim she couldn’t answer. She felt a bit lightheaded. What Angel so blatantly suggested in her unique, subtle manner seemed extreme in so many ways. Kim could imagine old married couples having a similar conversation after conventional lovemaking had become routine, searching for a spark to reignite their stagnant relationship from an ember into a flame.
And Angel thought it applied to them?
“What are you suggesting?” asked Kim, more than a bit horrified at the sudden turn yet fascinated by it, all at the same time.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” said Angel.
Kim caught the verbal trick. “Well, I’m certainly not suggesting anything. Not whipped cream or ice cream or strawberries, or any combination of the three. That’s all on you, Angel.”
Angel gave Kim a long, steady look. “Okay,” she said, drawing out the word and sounding uncertain.
“I’m not against new things if you suggest them,” Kim reiterated, trying to distance herself, knowing she had nothing to do with Angel’s latest plan yet still feeling Angel was somehow maneuvering her into receiving the blame for it.
“Okay,” Angel said again.
Kim could feel her face getting hot, simply denying her involvement. “As long as it’s not my idea. Then it’s okay.”
“I believe I understand.”
“Good.”
“You’re willing to try whipped cream, ice cream, and strawberries, or any combination of the three, but want to leave it entirely up to me which combination to try first.”
Kim put her hands to her head in an attempt to keep her brain from leaking from her ears.
“Could we please drop the subject?” Kim said at last.
Angel raised one eyebrow. “This embarrasses you?”
“I’m not like you, Angel. You don’t seem to have a sense of embarrassment.”
“The topic of dessert toppings should embarrass me?” Angel attempted to clarify. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
Kim squ
irmed. “...Yes.”
“Is it dessert toppings, specifically? Or desserts in general?”
“Just stop talking about it, please?”
“Consider the matter dropped.”
Kim sat down in the remaining chair, placing the container of whipped cream on the floor next to her where Angel wouldn’t be reminded of its presence and bring up the subject, again. “I didn’t want to come in and start talking about whipped cream. Well, I did, but not really. I thought about what you said at work, and wanted to talk to you about my,” she paused to make air quotes, “supposed trust issues.”
“You do have them, you know.”
“What made you think of whipped cream, anyway? I know I never mentioned it.”
Angel blinked. “Did you want to keep talking about it?”
“Just answer the question?”
“As I said, it was my initial intention to purchase the strawberries. By chance, I saw the whipped cream, and was reminded of their commercials. Lately, you’ve been foremost in my thoughts, and I thought of what we could use it for.” Angel folded her hands behind her head. “I thought they looked kind of tasty.”
Thought they looked kind of tasty?
Kim became instantly indignant. “Are you talking about my breasts?”
Angel looked surprised. “I wasn’t talking about your breasts at all.”
“No, you’re always hinting about things.” Kim’s voice became high and mocking. “‘Oh, I know the relationship is barely a few weeks old, but let’s spice things up with strawberries and whipped cream.’ That sounds just like you.”
“That doesn’t sound anything like me,” Angel said, looking dubious. “Your inflection is off, for one. And you need to change the pitch of your voice to--“
“I didn’t mean literally!”
“I purchased the strawberries because I thought you’d like strawberries.”