Alive

By: Aviantei

10 mph

I slip my pick into the front door lock but meet no resistance. Either he's gotten used to me or realizes by now a lock won't stop me. If this rate, I might end up with a key to his place before the end of the off season.

…or maybe not. Just the thought of something so ordinary makes me shudder. I put away the pick kit, open the door, lift up my load from the porch, and kick the entrance shut behind me. The thud echoes through the house, but there's no shout of protest. I frown as I make my way into the kitchen. This isn't right. He should be home today. Two days ago Team Velshtein had its newest press event to hold off another "incident", yesterday was practice, and today we were supposed to meet. If he didn't tell me plans changed, I'm going to be pissed. I put a bit more effort into today than just buying a ticket.

Resisting the urge to stake out his room, I set my load on the kitchen table and settle into a chair. It's midmorning, and though Alexander's personal routines aren't as strict as the Sir Hamgra induced ones, he's pretty regular.

Noticing myself fidgeting, I stand up to start the coffee pot instead. I almost consider leaving before I realize I wouldn't have anything else to do. I can't do today's activity by myself—that would be a bust. If I tried hard enough maybe Mariya would come along…?

"Good morning, Kirsten." I press the start button on the coffee pot and twirl around at the sound of Alexander's voice. He's not quite groggy, but there's still a hint of tiredness in his voice. His hair's still damp, but rising to the challenges of the day, and an undershirt shows off the muscle structure I've gotten used enough to thanks to sports gear.

"Good morning, Alexander," I chirp with a wave. He still winces. "Nice to see you up. I made you coffee."

"Are in the process of making me coffee," he returns. "And do you gotta call me that? I'd rather not be called—"

My eye roll speaks volumes enough to cut his words off. It doesn't stop Alexander from crossing over to pull creamer from the fridge, though. "I made a decision." I put on my best smile. "I'm trying to connect to you on a personal level, here. You call me Kirsten, so I'm done with that silly alias of yours. Besides, if I call you that in public, we just end up with messes like the other day." Never mind that was the collective fault of Mariya and I. My motto of It's fun the first time, dull the second applies here.

Alexander purses his lips but reaches above my head to retrieve a coffee cup. He pulls a second one down for me just as the pot gets brewing in earnest. I take a deep breath and enjoy the rich smell; it's not so bad when affluent guys have good taste in beans.

"Hm. So what're we getting up to today?" Alexander passes the creamer to me, letting me pre-prep my own mug. He doesn't sound amused by my logic, but the incident must have left enough of an impact on him that he doesn't argue. We'll go with emersion therapy, then. "Parachuting? Water skiing? Though you don't look dressed for an adventure."

"And you don't look dressed at all," I retort, jabbing at his side. Alexander tries to swipe back at me, but I spin out of the way, my skirt unfurling in the process. Figures. He thinks it's weird. "I'm allowed to dress however I want. Besides, I don't need to be active today. We—" I trounce over to the table and knock on the picnic basket I hauled in "—are going on a picnic today, A-lex-an-der."

Alexander is too busy blinking and forgets to wince. "Wait, a picnic?" he says like my skirt is hiding some cybernetic enhancement beneath it. I like the disbelief in his eyes. It makes him look engaged with what's going on. "Let me get this straight. You make me spend my money and my time going all around and doing all sorts of outlandish things, and today you wanna go on a picnic." Alexander leans back on the counter and crosses his arms. "Forgive me if I'm not impressed."

"Come on," I whine. "The method for all of this is to go and do things we've never done before. Well I've never been on a picnic with a boy before, and I can almost guarantee that you've never been on a picnic with a girl before."

Alexander scowls. "You sayin' I can't get a date?"

"What I'm saying is that if you were ever actually interested in a girl enough to take her on a proper date you'd be so busy trying to impress her that you'd do something that cost a hell of a lot more." Assuming he likes girls. I shrug. "And even if you have you can just think of it as you've never been on a picnic with me before."

It's a long shot. I hope he takes it. I don't feel like asking some stranger to share my lunch with me just because I got shot down. It could be interesting, but I just don't want to. I want to share this with Alexander and I want him to actually enjoy himself. I want this to work.

When did I start getting so invested in this mess?

"So what this is really all about," he says, and I don't like the way Alexander's face looks when he smirks, "is that you just wanted to go on a date with me."

"Oh, please. Little Miss Ricarro get to you?" I taunt. If I were Takeshi Jin, I would give Alexander all the shit he's got coming from the run in and then some. "Besides, if I was gonna trick you into taking me on a date, I'd at least make you spend some serious cash on it. Or make you cook with me or something."

The smirk is still on Alexander's face. His eyes are laughing. "Come on, learn to take a joke."

My breath catches as I realize what's happened. He joked with me. We've been joking more these past weeks, not just taking cheap shots at each other. Maybe everything we've been running around doing has been working. Maybe he's changing a bit, becoming a bit less bored, and I want it to be the truth, because if he can change, then I—

I turn away in a huff, but I can't stop the smile pulling at my lips. This is silly and stupid and fun. I fake a glare at Alexander from the corner of my eye. "Just for that you're going on this picnic with me even if I have to force you."

I hoist up the picnic basket and go to leave, but Cunningham steals it from my hands with ease and drops it back on the table. "Easy there," he says, a chuckle still forming under his words. "We can count the picnic as brunch, but at least sit down long enough for some coffee." I raise an eyebrow but nod, dropping into my seat. The coffee pot chirps that it's finished, and Cunningham heads over to fill our cups. "Besides, you and I have never shared a cup of coffee like this yet, have we?"

We haven't. We've snarked at each other over airplane breakfast, we've tried all sorts of outlandish restaurants, we've stuffed ourselves on street food. But we've never just sat down, at the kitchen table, and had a cup of coffee.

It's the simple and domestic act that gives me a vibrant glimpse of that other world—

The one where everything's in color.

The one where my expressions aren't faked.

The one where I don't have to force myself into the outlandish just to feel like a real person.

I blink and it's gone. But I saw it, once again, the same flickering sigh ever since that flash of red. It's real, and if I stick by Alexander's side, maybe I can stay there a while. That would be good enough, even if it's not permanent—just a little more time of adventure.

Alexander sets my cup in front of me, and I cradle it in my hands, enjoying the warmth. "Besides, if you're so worried about it I can pick something extra outlandish and expensive for next time. I'll even let you cover the whole bill."

Alexander swallows his sip of coffee with much more grace than I had expected. "Hey, now."

"Come on," I parrot back at him, "learn to take a joke."

There's pause before he chuckles, and I let myself snicker, too. Then we're both laughing, forgetting the coffee we were supposed to be drinking in the first place.

Once Alexander is all caffeined up and I've had my unnecessary second dose of the stuff for the day, he retreats to finish getting dressed and I sort out my outfit in the guest bathroom. It's funny how much a swap to a blouse and skirt can change my image, though the shaved bit of my hair still throws it off. But that's what makes me me, and for the first time in a while I'm proud of that fact.

"I've considered a problem," I announce when we reconvene in the kitchen. Alexander hefts up the basket with little effort and cocks his head at me. We're back to the baggy sleeves, but I can't begrudge what makes him comfortable. "Going out to a public park is just asking for trouble. And as charming as a picnic in your quaint little backyard sounds, I was hoping for somewhere with a bit more place to stretch my legs." Even if this is a slower day, I'm not a fan of sitting still, and it didn't take three weeks to figure out the same applies to Alexander.

Alexander stops trying to balance a spare dark blanket from his room on top of the basket. "You've got a point. I'd rather not make another mess like before," he agrees, but doesn't look deterred. I'm not, either, and we spend a minute in silent contemplation of answers. "Hey, would it be breaking the rules of the deal to let me take the lead on this one?"

I roll my eyes and tug the blanket from Alexander, folding it into a manageable size. "You're the one who made the rules. Bend them however you like, so long as it doesn't change the time limit on me."

"Good, 'cause I thought of somewhere good, but I want it to be a surprise." He doesn't even seem concerned about the results anymore. I'll prod a bit later, just to be safe. Alexander accepts the folded blanket as I wedge it between the basket handles. "You willing to keep your eyes closed for a while?"

For a moment, I feel dumb in my outfit. Then again, if this does turn into something dumb (and that deep, paranoid part of my brain refuses to consider it's safe), I know enough to make this uncomfortable for the both of us.

Don't start thinking like that. You're getting somewhere.

"You know I'm up for an adventure," I say with a grin. "As long as it's not another lingerie shop, you can take me anywhere."

"Drama queen." Alexander steps past me, but not down the hall to the front door. "Taking the car will be easier than walking without carrying this thing around. Walking's nice, but driving won't do us any harm, either." I follow close behind. I may have scoped out the rest of his house, including his garage, but the car wasn't there the first time around. Parked in the neat garage (neat because it's pretty much empty) is Cunningham's shiny vehicle with a name just as pretentious as its price tag. But the engine is whisper quiet as it starts up, and I almost never want to get up from these damn seats.

Alexander glances over to me as I tilt the seat back as far as it can go. "If I ask you not to peak will you actually listen to me?" he asks.

"Dude, I could take a nap in this car," I respond, remembering to buckle the belt across my waist. I roll on my side, giving myself a view of the backseat and a noseful of pristine leather. "Drive as long as you like and wake me up when we get there."

[Author's Notes]

This chapter contains variations on the first couple of scene exercises I did with Kirsten. There's changes to deal with the context, but my original idea of this sequence hasn't changed much, so that's good. That sequence ties into the next chapter, too. It's nice to reach the point you concepted an idea with.

Speaking of the next chapter-11 mph will be the end of my queue! While I'm not planning on leaving this story all abandoned for two years again, I will be taking a break as I start to give updates to my other neglected works. More on that next week, when the next chapter drops. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[05.07.2018]