A Date With Angel and Other Things ...

by J. Judkins

  "With no regrets, I flung myself over the edge. Death was instantaneous. The waves washed over my broken, bleeding body once, twice, then carried it out to sea. My life was over."

  Kim watched in silence as Angel fell into a masterwork impression of a tragic hero, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut with tears streaming down her face. Her clenched fist shook with emotion, as if raging against the great injustice of her tragic demise.

  “You died,” Kim deadpanned.

  "Yes." Angel took a deep breath and wiped her eyes.

  "And you’re telling me this story."

  "And you don't even look upset!” Angel retorted. Her eyes were red and raw from crying. “How do you think that makes me feel? Don’t you care? I died, Kim!"

  Kim poked Angel in the stomach. "You look okay to me."

  After a moment, the flowing tears stopped. "Oh."

  "Well?"

  Angel took a deep breath, seemingly to gather strength, then let it out slowly. She met Kim’s eyes, deeply serious this time. "You probably think this directly contradicts my story, don’t you? You’d be wrong."

  "No, I kind of think it does."

  "No wonder you're confused."

  "I'm not confused, Angel. I'm annoyed. Irritated. Upset!"

  Angel held up a hand. "Any contradictions you may or may not have noticed are due to my faulty memory.”

  “If your advanced armor disintegrates itself to prevent anyone else from using it, why didn’t you use your advanced weaponry in the fight?”

  Angel looked at Kim as if she were an idiot. “Because, Kim! Rocket-propelled grenades are cool.”

  Kim spread her hands. "Fine. Then tell me about this ocean of yours. There aren’t any oceans around here. There aren't any cliffs. We’re in flyover country.”

  "Well, who says I died near an ocean? Other than me? It could have been a lake. How was I to know? It was dark that night, and I didn't see the other side. Forgive me if I mistook a large lake for an ocean. More than half your stupid planet is nothing but ocean!”

  “Angel--“

  Angel refused to be interrupted. She held up her hands, waving them theatrically. “Oooh, you got me! Angel was caught in a lie. Look at her, she’s such a liar! There goes all her credibility! Better not believe anything she says from this point on!"

  "There is a lake fairly close by, that I know about," admitted Kim.

  Angel grinned savagely. "There! You see?"

  "But no cliffs."

  Angel’s grin vanished, and she fell straight from triumph into exasperation. "Who says I died here? You’re not thinking it through, Kim. They must've carried my body here from wherever-it-was where I was killed."

  "And how did you revive yourself?"

  "Twelve regenerations to go."

  "You're not a Time Lord, Angel."

  "How do you know? Have you checked?"

  “Time Lords are fictional.”

  Angel seized Kim’s left hand and held it up against her chest. “That’s nothing more than Dalek propaganda, Kim. Don’t listen to the lies! Time Lords are supposed to have two hearts. Feel my second heartbeat?”

  Kim closed her eyes. She felt a blush coming on. “That's your breast, Angel.”

  Angel shifted her hand. “Here?”

  “Still your breast. And is there a reason you’re not wearing a bra?”

  “Yes. Bras are annoying. Try the other side. And give me your other hand so you can check for both heartbeats at the same time.”

  Kim pulled her trapped hand free. “Dammit, Angel, you're not going to seduce your way out of this! Just tell me the truth!"

  “Why would I make up a story that isn’t true?”

  Kim blinked. “Oh, that’s easy. You have an excessive desire to blend in.”

  Angel gave her a long hard look. Kim smiled back at her.

  “I have a what, now?” Angel asked.

  “An excessive desire to blend in,” Kim repeated.

  “You’re going to have to explain that one.”

  “It’s simple. If you can’t answer a basic question about your background that you feel you should know, you’d rather make up something on the spur of the moment than say ‘I don’t know.’ It makes you feel safe. You should know that information, after all.”

  “Okay…” Angel’s tone was dubious.

  “If you’re ever forced to say ‘I don’t know,’ then obviously the story isn’t real.”

  “That doesn’t explain your innate distrust of everything I say. Instead, it makes it look as if you’re justified in not believing me.”

  “Oh, please.” Kim waved her hand. “If you said anything truthful, I’d believe you.”

  “Let’s test that theory. I think you’re beautiful, Kim.”

  Kim’s face showed surprise, then happiness, but was quickly followed by suspicion.

  “There. You see?” Angel held up her open hand. “Less than five seconds. Five, and you’re already suspicious. There’s literally nothing I can say that you’ll simply accept at face value. Even when I confirm something you know to be true, you automatically suspect it because I’m the one saying it.”

  Kim was already shaking her head. “No. That’s not true.”

  “You wouldn’t trust me even if I handed you proof.”

  “If you gave me proof, of course I’d believe you."

  “Earlier you said you didn’t trust me because I was concealing my true nature. But that isn’t true. You don’t trust anything I say.”

  Kim threw up her hands. “How in the world did you reach that conclusion? The fact that you never admitted what you really were is the entire reason why I didn’t trust you. I thought you were deliberately concealing your true nature."

  “Yes, yes, because I’m an alien and I’m hiding that from you, you said. Why would concealing that be catastrophic? Do ordinary people automatically tell strangers everything there is to know about themselves when they meet for the first time?”

  “Of course they don’t, and yes, that’s a very good point, Angel. But my point is you don’t have to make up a history you think I’ll accept."

  “You think my background story is made up?”

  “Of course it is!”

  “Well, I happen to like my background story,” Angel replied haughtily, folding her arms. “Why won’t you believe it?”

  Kim’s face went ashen. A horrible truth she hadn’t realized until now hit her like a thunderbolt.

  “Kim?”

  “All you want is for me to trust you,” Kim whispered. “Is that it?”

  “Yes. I want you to trust me.”

  It all became clear. The reason behind Angel’s behavior.

  Angel didn’t have a history. She never did. There was no master plan. No secret alien agenda. None of it. Her life effectively started less than three weeks ago. Angel wasn’t concealing anything and she never had. All she’d retained of her previous life was a pressing desire to blend in and a nameless fear of the organization which hunted her to this day.

  All Angel wanted was a background Kim would accept, and that was the reason why Angel accepted Kim’s premise so easily. Because Angel knew Kim accepted her as an alien.

  It all made sense. Kim confirmed Angel’s theory herself, telling Angel she never doubted the idea of her being an alien. Not for an instant. Angel thought she’d found a perfect way to obtain Kim’s trust. Angel needed that trust, because ‘love needed trust to survive,’ and she wanted Kim to love her in return.

  And then I ruined it for Angel, accusing her of making it up.

  Kim’s fists clenched.

  I caused this. It’s all my fault. Of all the worst things that could happen, this is the worst possible thing!

  Angel yearned for Kim to believe her, to trust her without question. In fact, she wanted Kim’s trust so desperately it became impossible for her to settle for a simple story. She couldn’t help but push the story just a little bit further, hoping to make it sound more plausible, not realizing that adding th
ose extra details rendered the entire story unbelievable.

  That meant Kim had a choice to make. If Angel’s background story meant so much to her, couldn’t she accept it, for her sake? Even if she’d never believe it?

  Angel’s background stories became real, for her. Her job as a tourist? Not a lie. Angel lived her background. Her new history as an alien scout? Angel embraced her new persona, and Kim didn’t doubt she would defend it against all challenges.

  Should she pretend to believe it? Or would it be better to convince Angel to abandon her story?

  Kim made a mental note to be careful in the future. To never say anything Angel could adopt and use to make her fake background look more legitimate.

  “Kim, are you even listening to me?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “What makes me unworthy of trust if I don’t choose to share information?”

  “I thought you lied about your memory loss, too, remember? And as far as I knew, you were also keeping your mission a secret from me.”

  “Which mission was this?” Angel fell into her curious expression.

  “Who knows? You never did it. Obviously. But that didn’t stop me from watching for it.”

  “What was I supposed to be doing?”

  “I assumed it must be a scouting mission for whatever galactic empire you work for. You were sent to evaluate Earth’s defenses before calling in the troops and starting an invasion.”

  “How many galactic empires are there supposed to be?”

  “In science fiction, hundreds. Perhaps thousands. In real life, there aren’t any. At least, none that anyone knows about.”

  “And you thought I was working for one?”

  Kim didn’t answer right away. One finger traced the edge of her water glass. “I suspected it,” she murmured.

  “Why?”

  “Because I thought you were an alien, and that’s the way my mind works. I knew you weren’t human, and I suspected. That’s why I took you home."

  “Don’t forget, you were also attracted to me.”

  Kim rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. That, too. Almost forgot that one. I could barely resist keeping my hands off you.”

  “Actually, you couldn't resist keeping your hands off me. That first night in the shower, we--”

  “That’s a figure of speech, Angel. And I only did that in the shower with you because you didn’t have a clue it was wrong. Wait...”

  “This is by far the longest argument we’ve ever had. The make-up sex tonight is going to be absolutely amazing."

  “Angel!”

  “What? We’re going to, aren’t we?”

  “Well, um...yes. Probably.”

  “About what I said about my background...”

  “Your background story doesn’t matter to me. I’ll tell you I believe it, if it makes you feel better. But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “I want you to believe me, Kim. Really, honestly, legitimately believe me."

  “I get it, Angel. You feel a need to make something up to explain your history. I get that. But accepting a background story isn’t a matter of trust."

  “Then we disagree.” Angel turned away. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder.

  Kim sighed. “I suppose we do.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  Kim’s fingers began to play with the armrest of her chair. “If we're done arguing, then there’s the matter of that...other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  “The thing you were talking about a few seconds ago?”

  “Make-up sex?” asked Angel, her words sounding infuriatingly like a guess to Kim.

  “Yes. That.” Kim scowled fairly close to Angel’s general direction, unable to meet her eyes. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know."

  “I’ve noticed that whenever you hint in such a manner, you’re usually thinking about sex.”

  “You’re the one who mentioned it. Not me."

  “Yes, I understand.” Angel scooted her chair closer. “So, you were thinking about sex with me. Did you have a question?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way,” Kim groused.

  “Looking forward to it?”

  “No!”

  “Counting on it? Anticipating? Awaiting with bated breath?”

  “Listen, Angel, I thought that since we’re going to do it anyway, maybe we could...do it now...instead of…later.”

  “If you’d rather not wait until tonight, you could simply ask, you know.”

  “I’m not the one in this relationship with the excessive sex-drive."

  “Hmm...” Angel tapped a forefinger against her chin. “I trust you have a reason you’d rather do this now?”

  “It doesn’t have to be right this minute now. I was just thinking, if we did this early, we could still get in a good night’s sleep.” Kim looked up, then away. “I don’t want to look exhausted at work tomorrow and have everyone making guesses about me.”

  “If guessing upsets you, we could tell them,” suggested Angel.

  “I’m not upset because they have to guess.”

  “We have four hours until we normally go to sleep. What about dinner?”

  “Why don’t we try for two hours and see how it goes?”

  Angel looked pleasantly scandalized.

  “Two isn’t excessive,” Kim cried, outraged. “Dear God, that’s half of what you said. You’re the one that suggested four!”

  “I meant four as in, four total. Four to work with. When did you want to eat?”

  “Forget about dinner, okay? I don’t care about food. It’s always been secondary with me.”

  Angel smiled at that and reached out her hand.

  Kim colored, guessing what Angel was thinking. “I don’t mean to compare the two. I mean, I do like food, just not as much as...ah...”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t mean food is secondary to sex. I’m not comparing them. I meant to say I don’t like food as much, which...isn’t what I meant to say, either.”

  Angel nodded sagely.

  “I like food just fine. Just not as much.”

  “You said that already.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Kim detected a noticeable spring in her step as she walked down the hall. She quelled it as soon as she realized she had it. She tried not to think of details. Details would only make her blush.

  Nothing like...a good night’s sleep.

  Yeah, that was it.

  “So, any plans for... ” Kim stopped at the kitchen threshold and stared. The kitchen countertop was positively cluttered with ingredients for some yet-to-be-identified dish. There was an open bag of brown sugar, a carton of eggs, baking soda, for some odd reason, and other items she couldn’t readily identify. And…Kim sniffed the air. Were those cranberries?

  “Angel, are you cooking something?”

  “It should be done within three minutes,” said Angel, standing at the open refrigerator door. She withdrew a quart-size container of milk and held it up for Kim to see. “I didn’t use it all. There’s a little bit left. Would you like it?”

  Kim crossed her arms. “Yeah. That’s real funny.”

  Angel returned the milk to the refrigerator. “Baked oatmeal.”

  “What?”

  “I’m responding to your ‘cooking something’ question. Baked oatmeal. I found a site that listed oatmeal recipes for breakfast. The recipe I’m using had four and a half stars.”

  “Oatmeal? Are you crazy? You used my oatmeal? Did you check and see when it expires?”

  “I checked. Both one-minute oatmeal and five-minute oatmeal last for two to three years.”

  “How old was mine?”

  Angel became instantly evasive. She fidgeted, her hands making noncommittal gestures. “I’m going to guess…less than two to three years? This was the most popular recipe. But don’t worry. This one doesn’t include whipped cream. I’ve decided it embarrasses me.”

  Kim lost a second.
“What?”

  “I implied I have other recipes, but nothing involving whipped cream or desserts. I’ve decided they embarrass me.”

  “Hold on.” Kim held up a hand. “Since when do you get embarrassed by anything? And desserts embarrass you?”

  “Especially dessert toppings. Those are the worst.” Angel shuddered theatrically.

  As if sensing Kim wasn’t buying it, Angel drew herself up to her full height. “Is there a problem?”

  “You can’t just arbitrarily decide to be embarrassed about things on your own.”

  “Why not?”

  Kim didn’t have an answer why not. “Because!”

  “I’m sorry. Many things about Earth culture still confuse me.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Kim pulled out a chair and sat down, facing Angel.

  And I was in such a good mood, too.

  “What are you going to do about this background of yours? Any plans?”

  “Nothing substantial.”

  “No plans about finding proof?” she pressed.

  “I confess, I have no ideas on how to go about it,” Angel admitted.

  Kim found herself nodding in agreement. If Angel never remembered anything of her past life, that would be just fine with her. Let the past stay buried. If Angel remembered, she might decide her old life was more important to her, and may not want to stay with her.

  Love doesn’t always conquer all. Angel has a good life, here. Best not to risk it.

  “However,” Angel continued, “it stands to reason that I’m not alone. I can’t be the only one. There must be others. If I could find one and talk to him or her, surely they could--“

  Kim leapt to her feet so quickly her chair fell over backwards. “What?”

  Angel rolled her eyes. “It stands to reason that I’m not--“

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I told you this, yesterday,” Angel said, her voice curt.

  “And I told you, you don’t have to do that!”

  Angel cocked her head. “Is this an argument? Are you setting us up for make-up sex again?”