You only see what your eyes want to see
How can life be what you want it to be
You're frozen
When your heart's not open

          -Madonna "Frozen"

Chapter Fourteen

            Sandra slowly wondered through Alex's apartment, running her finger over everything, as if seeking a connection through the inanimate objects to their owner.

            She'd been in it once before but she hadn't had much time for the details. It was pretty clean for a guy's apartment, with only a few magazines and DVD cases cluttering the coffee table. A guitar magazine and yesterday's paper, lay spread open and Sandra wondered if Alex played guitar.

            She leafed through his CD collection, finding mostly jazz and blues but there were albums that ranged from Shania Twain to The Beatles to Marilyn Manson.

            She took out The Matthew Good Band CD and put it into the CD player.

            "You know who this is?" Alex asked from the kitchen, surprised.

            "Yeah," she went over to the kitchen to join him. "I'd never heard them until I was in Canada. They're really popular up there."

            "I just got this CD when I was in Calgary."

            "Oh so that's why you were up there," Sandra joked.

            "Hey, it's damn good music."

            They lapsed into silence as Sandra watched Alex cook. He was standing over the stove, spoon in hand, staring into the depths of whatever he was making. But whatever it was, it smelled good.

            "Where'd you learn to cook?"

            Alex wiped his hands on a dishrag and walked around the counter to where she was sitting. "My grandmother, on my mom's side, was so excited to have a grandchild to pass on the family cooking secrets, that she started teaching me when I was barely able to walk."

            Sandra had a mental picture of baby Alex, stomping around in an apron, carrying a mixing spoon.

            "So by the time I was five," he continued. "I could cook an entire meal by myself…in theory though because my mom wouldn't let near the stove and the knives."

            Sandra laughed, "That's better than most girls. My own cooking talents are restricted to vegetable soup and Kraft Dinner."

            Alex walked back to the stove, motioning for her to follow. "This is a spoon." Sandra glared at him. "Stir this until it boils and then add a pinch of this, " he pointed to a bottle.

            "Wait a minute, how much is a 'pinch'? Because I'm sure your 'pinch' and my 'pinch' are a lot different."

            Alex was overcome by how comfortable this all felt and indulging in the domestic aura, he gave her a peck on the cheek. "It's just a pinch, don't worry." Alex took her seat at the counter.

            "Alright. But I have to warn you, I have a tendency to burn dinner."

            Alex felt his beeper go off, "It's soup. You can't burn it." The number displayed on his beeper was one that he wished he could ignore. "I have to make a call, I'll be right back."

            Alex walked into the room, punching the California number and made sure to close the door. "Hey Ana, you called?"

            Back in the kitchen, Sandra heard him. She didn't mean to be eavesdropping but her heightened senses included better hearing and she just wanted to check that he wasn't turning her in. Yeah, she had trust issues but this was her life, wasn't that warrant enough. As she listened in, she realized it was a personal call and tuned it out. Of course he would have a girl-friend, she couldn't actually expect that he was in love with Sandra or anything.

            She had turned her attention fully back to the soup, when Alex came back into the room. She'd finish up eating supper with him and then leave as quickly as possible. She'd photocopy the file folder for him but she wouldn't see him again after that. She was stupid to think she could depend on him, she was just intruding on his life. What would his girl-friend say if she walked in right now? She wouldn't be able to explain that she and Alex were just going over some confidential files, pertaining to her being an alien. Yeah, that'd go smoothly.

            As Alex walked back into the room, he noticed the change in Sandra immediately. He was sure that she thought he'd called to turn her in. How she could possibly believe that was beyond him. It hurt too, strangely, that she didn't trust him but then again what had he done that inspired trust?

            He watched from his bedroom door, as she stirred dinner, humming softly to the music. Her hair had grown longer and was straight, it lacked the bounce and curl from when he had first met her. She was a lot thinner as well. He figured she must have lost ten or fifteen pounds, not a healthy weight for her height. But then again, she didn't look all that healthy; dark shadows bruised her eyes and her skin was pale.

            It was obvious that these last few months had been hard on her and he felt a stab of guilt over it. She'd suffered the worst, most unimaginable blow to her world and she'd had to deal with it all by herself. Alex reminded himself that he had left her alone for her own good and safety and that's what he should be doing right now.

            "How's it going?" Sandra noticed the distinct change in his tone.

            "Well, there haven't been any fires, so I think we're doing well."

             Alex finished the dinner, making idle chit-chat and then they ate supper in a heavy silence that suffocated the room.

            Sandra finally broke the silence when she had finished eating, "Thanks for dinner," her voice was quiet and polite.

            Alex forced a smile on his face, "You helped too," he reminded her.

            "Yeah, I'm the new Martha Stewart."

            Sandra wasn't absolutely sure why he had changed so drastically from an hour ago but she suspected that he felt guilty for having her in his apartment. Or maybe he was resentful towards her for not only barging into his life but for also being the reason that his father had been murdered. How could he even be in the same room with her? She knew she hadn't been the one to actually pull the trigger but if she had never been born, then Alex wouldn't have been robbed of a father or of his innocence.

            In fact, if she hadn't been born her parents would be alive, living a normal life, devoid of dangerous secrets.

            She stood up to leave, she couldn't bare to be reminded anymore of how much blood she had on her hands. Intentionally or not.

            Sandra would stay away from Alex and by doing that, protect him. She would go live in the apartment that her parents had set up for her until she could get out of the country to Europe.

            Alex could sense Sandra's distress and assumed that she wanted to get away from him, the man who had dumped her alone in a foreign country. He felt a hitch in his stomach, he was doing it again, here she was, with all this new information and he was about to let her walk out of here to deal with it all alone. If she stayed with him though, she was bound to get into more trouble than if on her own. But then again, she really didn't know how to protect herself from the people that were hunting her, the people that he'd made a living off hiding from.

            He still hadn't made up his mind what he was going to when he heard her say, "Well…I should get going."

            Alex stood, "Yeah," was all he could think to say. Without thought he handed her the file folder she had brought with her. "You know…I think it would be better if-." He was interrupted by the front door exploding open.

            Alex barely had time to grab his gun and Sandra before four men came into the room, their guns shooting at everything in sight. He pulled Sandra into the bedroom, closing and locking the door, as much good as that would do. He climbed up on the bed, lifting a painting off the wall to reveal a switch. When he flicked the switch, the nightstand beside the bed swung open, to show a small metal door.

            Alex opened the door with a key and practically threw Sandra into the crawl space before crawling in after her and slammed the door shut, effectively locking it.

            The crawl space, which was only a few feet high and wide, was so dark that Sandra wasn't sure whether her eyes were open or closed. She could feel Alex behind, gently pushing her gently into the darkness. After a few feet Alex told her to stop and she heard him open and close something before she was blinded by a bright light coming from his hands.

            The flashlight centered in on another door on the wall of the space but the door was too small to crawl through. Alex punched in a code on the pin pad next to door, causing the door to creak open. Alex grabbed a back pack from within the safe and shut the door again. He moved in front of her to lead her to another door.

            "Oh for the love of God. This place has more doors than…well, a place that has a lot of doors." Sandra said, wondering if a bullet hadn't hit her in the head and she just hadn't noticed.

            Alex turned to face her, "What the hell is going on? Did you get those people to come here?"

            Sandra stared at him, "Yes I phoned them to come shoot at me, so I'd have an excuse to crawl into a dark hole," She said sarcastically. "Maybe Ana knows something about this."

            "Excuse me, how do you know Ana?"

            Opps, Sandra felt around her head, doubling checking to make sure her brain wasn't oozing out the back of her head. "Um, well…I have a right to know when I'm being backstabbed!"

            Alex stared at her if she was crazy, "What the hell does she have to do with this?"

            "So she's just your girlfriend not a super-spy for the government."

            Alex chuckled, "You think Ana is my girl-friend? She's my sister, you fucking psycho and for your information, she's a teacher."

            Yeah, she definitely needed a brain transplant, "Oh."

            Alex let out a kind of huff before opening the door. When Sandra looked through the door, she saw that the floor dropped out and was left with a steel staircase instead.

            "I guess this is a bad time to tell you I'm afraid of heights."