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I woke suddenly, a feeling of dread lingering from a dream I couldn't remember. I blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the sunshine streaming through my window. The fog of the dream cleared, but part of the dread remained.

What had I done yesterday? Somehow, I had agreed to date a complete stranger, and even introduced him to my roommate.

I covered my face with my hands, fighting the urge to smack myself, punish myself for my stupidity. Somehow, in the last few days, I seemed to have lost my ability to think logically. It was as if I were under some kind of spell, unable to access the logical, reasoning part of my mind.

Still, I'd made my decision, and I could hardly back out now, especially since I'd told Lena. I didn't exactly want to back out - I still had all the same feelings for Buddy. I just needed to clear my head and be able to think clearly about it all. Clear thinking did not seem to be very compatible with the look in Buddy's eyes when we were together, though.

I leapt out of bed abruptly, trying to brush away the thoughts of him and focus. It was finally the weekend. I should be making the most of it and enjoying the warm weather. I dressed quickly, making a pact with myself. I would not let myself get carried away with my new relationship. Until I could sort out Buddy's identity and help him to become really human, I couldn't let myself get too close.

I pulled on my sneakers and left the house quietly, knowing Lena would still be asleep. I wasn't usually a runner, but today I needed to move, to be present in my body, feel my feet hitting something solid beneath me to remind me what the real world was. I jogged the old, cracked footpath on our street, then, mostly just out of habit, found myself headed toward the park I detoured through on my way to work.

I decided to try something different, taking a longer route around the outside of the park that bypassed the section of trees and shrubs. The crisp morning air was lighting up my lungs and slapping my face like an open hand. The sun was bright, but hadn't yet had time to warm the world up. Dew still collected on the blades of grass, scattering beneath my heavy footfalls.

I rounded the bushes, crossing the place where the path emerged from the trees, and where Buddy had stood mutely only two days ago when I first saw him in human form. I ran harder, pushing against the ground, willing it to bring me back to its soil, where things lived and died and rotted and became earth again in the end. My life had somehow become hypothetical recently. Like every sentence ended in an ellipsis instead of a period. Nothing felt tangible and real and anchored - I was drifting in a current that I'd only just realised I needed to fight against. I had to reach solid ground again.

My lungs were aching in the cold morning air, begging for a deeper breath. I slowed to a walk, puffing loudly, then slowly regaining control as oxygen flooded into my blood again. I walked a little longer, then slowed to a stop as I reached an unfamiliar part of the park. I'd been cutting through it regularly for a few months, but hadn't bothered to explore it. It was just a shortcut, and not a particularly lovely one.

I approached a wet, swampy area sloping down into a pond, or perhaps a lake - I couldn't see past the trees how far it's banks went. As I strolled nearer, enjoying the discovery of something new, I heard voices. They were hushed and urgent, and something about the tone made my heart beat faster with both anxiety and curiosity. I edged closer, staying next to the treeline behind me, placing each foot carefully so as to keep silent.

I finally glimpsed two people standing close together further into the bush, almost entirely hidden in a small clearing that ducked among the trees like an alcove in a monastery. I crouched down, listening intently. Both people were wearing hoodies, and had their backs to me, but I saw one of them pass a package to the other. It was a small black zippered bag, like a makeup or toiletries bag. It was probably a drug deal of some kind, I decided with detached interest, though I was surprised to see it here. Cobbett had a drug scene like any other town, but it mostly hung about in the dark corners of run down houses, hidden away like a family secret that's too shameful to actually admit to and work to correct. Most of the people involved in drugs in this town were probably people experiencing poverty, violence and trauma. But it suited the general middle class to keep them tucked away. If you couldn't see it from your white picket fence, it wasn't your problem.

The man receiving the bag unzipped it and glanced inside, briefly examining its contents before stuffing it into his backpack and pulling out an envelope. I inched closer, trying to get a better view. I couldn't say why I was so intent on watching what was happening. It must have been my journalistic reflexes kicking into gear. I was always curious, always wanting to know more. There seemed to be some documents in the envelope, but I had no hope of seeing what they were. The one with the backpack spoke again, and this time I caught most of his words.

"...in here. This is the contact number for the bloke who can hook you up..."

"Where is he?"

"Perth. Can't get those kind of services in the sticks."

"So what next?"

"That's it. You're on your own from here. Don't call me again, get up to the city and get what you need."

"He can definitely get me an ID?"

"I got you the number. You're on your own from here."

My fingers tingled with adrenaline hearing the words. It wasn't really my life's dream to get involved in shady identity crime, but I hadn't exactly foreseen the whole alien boyfriend thing either. I'd been wracking my brain trying to think of how to deal with my undocumented alien boyfriend, and I hadn't been able to come up with any ideas that were strictly legal. I'd basically resigned myself to having to commit identity fraud, but I had no idea where to start. Now I had a point of contact, if I could identify this man.

Backpack guy turned and walked away, shoulders hunched and hoodie obscuring his face. The other guy quickly followed suit and hurried the other direction, towards me. I panicked, weighing my options in a split second. I had to pass this guy to be able to follow the other man, but I was too close to be able to move out and pretend to just be walking by, and there wasn't enough cover to be able to hide. I did the only thing I could think of and got out my phone and started taking photos of the pond. It was picturesque enough that it wouldn't seem an odd place to stop for a photo. The man sloped past, gait hurried and anxious. He barely acknowledged me apart from skipping forward a little when he saw me taking a photo. I stood up after he'd passed, and began walking in the opposite direction. I moved briskly, trying not to look suspicious, but acutely aware that I'd lost sight of the only person who could help me give Buddy an identity. I finally saw him in the distance, hands shoved deep into his pockets and hood still up, long strides covering the ground quickly. I sped up, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I didn't really know what I was going to do next. I wasn't what you'd call a seasoned professional in the field of crime and identity theft. How was I supposed to approach these people? Walk up, give him my business card and ask if he could possibly help me with a situation involving an undocumented non-human entity?

I kept him in sight, following a little way behind, trying to work up the courage to do something, or better yet, come up with an actual plan.

I was so focused on my target that I didn't even hear the footsteps approaching from behind until a strong arm grabbed me around my waist, and another covered my mouth, muting my startled cry.