Whose fault was it? Elusive Liber8's? Evasive Dillion's? His? Or, the tough partner's posturing beside him, claiming to be Kiera? Betty, impossibly, was dead. Eager to please, yet socially-challenged Betty. She'd had a crush on him, obvious to everyone. Even to him. He had never acknowledged it, downplaying her fixation. Was that what it was? Had it been easier to offer the excuse that an office romance was inappropriate? That was what he had kept telling himself. What it had actually come down to was her not having been his type.
And then...Kiera had shown up and the inappropriateness of an office romance didn't seem to matter much anymore. Well, that was then. This was now, and now was this nasty habit of never feeling good anymore. As if it ever had felt great. Not his topsy-turvy life. Yeah, not by some incredible long shot.
Alec Sadler, and the pride he took in orchestrating time jumps, was hard on one's inner peace. Carlos watched with his hand slow to move from Kiera's shoulder. Once the body of dead Kiera vanished before their eyes, he felt as lost again as he had felt fearing that he had lost his sanity, learning that two Kieras and two Sadlers existed.
When was any of this supposed to get better? When SadTech took over the world? When he could go home, bed down for a good night's rest, waking up from this harrowing, malicious almighty nightmare? Too many questions with too few answers had Carlos perpetually tied in knots.
"Where are you off to?" There she was again, bent on leaving him behind. It wasn't hard to miss. Her eyes gave so much away. Lately.
"I'm going home," Kiera succiently said. Body language blared that she was already there.
He'd give it a shot, expecting nothing, because nothing came oh, so easily. The diehard in him would not be denied. "Mind if I came with? Share some down-time? I haven't been up in a while. Maybe watch a little T.V.? You like hockey? We stand a chance of winning the cup this year." Sadly, he could see refusal maturing in her big, soulful eyes. Eyes that were driving him crazy the more she chose to close herself off.
"Not tonight, Carlos. There's something I have to do."
Slam-dunk, epic fail. Not even a hint of empathy, he thought sourly. Riled, he chose to pursue it. "Like what?"
"I'd rather not go into it now." Her visitor, the man from her time, the man on the verge of imploding, whom she had given lodging to, awaited her. She had promised him that she was on her way. Alone. It had to be that way, alone. "Which doesn't mean I'm hiding some deep, dark secret. I'll tell you about it..." Maybe, she couldn't keep herself from thinking, humoring him. Need to know. What Carlos would never understand could fill a databank. She felt sorry for what she had no choice other than to put him through.
"Night then," he said with just the right amount of gloom, resignation saturating his flat tone of voice.
"Night," Kiera batted back at him, keenly aware that turning her back on him was more and more difficult. Their partnership was the trickiest relationship she had ever had to wrestle with in her life.
Begrudgingly, with tired, world-weary eyes, he stared after her until the staccato clack of her footfalls died away. "Yeah." While setting his desk in order, powering down his computer and collecting his gear, he began to chuckle. "See ya. But, what if I beat you to your place. Be waiting for you at your apartment door when you show up. Would you turn me away? Or...invite me in?"
Chuckling deeper in his throat, he muttered, "I don't have a problem with finding out just how much our partnership hasn't a prayer."