Chapter 14: Do you like like me?

Kia arrived at the station to find a furious captain. She had disobeyed a direct order, endangered her life, and risked the entire mission. Or at least, this was what he believed. However, his opinion changed when Kia told him that she was in. The cherry on the cake was that Baglor had called her part of his pack.

She conveniently omitted all the creepy and otherworldly events of the previous nights and focused on the broad facts. The mission was successful; contact was made, and the Bargarattis were infiltrated. With results like these, the captain couldn't continue in his furry. He couldn't praise her, nor could he pull her off the case. So he gave her a stern warning and demanded a full report.

However, while the chief could be swindled with a shortened summary of events, Jean proved far more difficult. He had so many questions, and he demanded specifics. Kia didn't feel comfortable telling the truth right in the station. The chances of someone overhearing her were too great. So, they went to the diner across the street at lunchtime and ordered a small lunch.

"Okay, enough dilly-dallying. What the hell happened? I want the full gist, not the official report," Jean pleaded."

"Okay, where do I start?"

"From the beginning?"

"Fine," she said and started giving a full account of her night.

"Wait, you got shot," he suddenly said, interrupting her mid-sentence.

"Yes. That's where it gets freaky. I think I died. Then…" suddenly, the words got caught in her throat, and Baglor's warning rang in her ears like he was right in her head, repeating them loudly.

"Exposing the truth about us would lead to your imprisonment and torture as well as the death of everyone you tell."

At the time, the threat seemed empty and ridiculous. But now, thinking back, it seemed real.

"Then?" Jean demanded, veins of curiosity popping out on his forehead.

"Then I woke up," Kia said in a conclusive tone. She had to hide the truth from Jean. Of course, she had her doubts. But given all that had happened, she couldn't dismiss Baglor's claim or threats. It was better to ere on the side of caution.

"You got shot, thought you died. And then you simply woke up?"

"Yeah."

"That's crazy. Did you die or did you think you died?"

"Obviously I thought I died. If I actually died you would be talking to a ghost. And as I am not a ghost…"

"Where did you get shot?"

"My arm?"

"Let me see," Jean demanded.

"It is high up in my shoulder. I would have to pull off my shirt."

"So. We spar together. I have seen you in a bra many times," he said incredulously.

Taken aback by his words, Kia jutted her head back and squinted her eyes.

"Really? Look around you, Mr. We spar together."

"Oh," Jean said, suddenly taking notice of his surroundings. "I… Sorry," he said shamefully. In the passing awkwardness, Kia once again noticed the flutter that seemed to fly through their midst every now and again. It was time to address it.

"Jean. I want to ask you a question."

"No. I'm the one asking the questions here," he said jokingly, suspecting the awkwardness about to ensure and attempting to avoid it.

"Save that line for your suspects."

"You have been answering my questions evasively. Won't be wrong to treat you like a suspect," he said and let out an unnatural chuckle.

"I'm serious Jean."

"Fine. Hit me."

"Do you like me," she said, hating the sound of her voice. It came off too harshly and without emotion. She had planned to be more sensitive but had failed woefully.

"Of course I like you," Jean said dismissively. "Is that your big question?"

"No, Jean. Like. Do you, like, like me?"

"What are we, in the third grade? 'Do I like like you?' What next? Would you like to take me to the dance?"

"Fine. I get it. It was stupid."

"Very stupid," Jean added.

"Forget I mentioned anything," she said and sipped on her milkshake sullenly.

It had taken a lot of courage to bring up her question, and Jean had hurriedly dismissed it like a bad joke. For many months, she had lived in fear of the possibility that Jean had feelings for her. If he did, working with him was sure to be very complicated and awkward. However, not once has she imagined him laughing at the idea like it was a bad joke.

But he had. And now she began to wonder if it would have been better if he was actually in love with her. She wondered if she would have been happier if he had professed his love. Perhaps it would have even been less awkward, for it was indeed awkward now that she had brought it up.

They rounded up their lunch and returned to the station. But even hours later, Kia was still lost in thought. What is so funny about being in love with me? Or were my words really so childish? She wondered.

In time, her thoughts ran down the rabbit hole of self-doubt. The next time she came across a mirror, she stared at it and began to question every detail of her visage and physique.

Her thoughts were preoccupied with questions about her and Jean, as well as questions about herself as an individual. Her thoughts were so preoccupied that she didn't notice the falling of night. Neither did she think of Baglor or his invitation until she returned to her apartment building and found Dimitri waiting.

He had let go of the jacket he had on the night they died and was now dressed in a simple black shirt, dark grey pants, and a pair of high-collar boots. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he had a cigarette hanging limply between his lips.

Standing right next to the door that led into her apartment building, with his back resting on the wall, he looked like he was simply wiling away his time. But she knew he wasn't. He was there for her.

"Baglor is waiting," he said as soon as she got out of her car.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead," she replied as she walked past him.

"Same to you love," he said as he threw his cigarette on the floor, crunched it under his feet, and followed her closely as she entered the building.