"You choose."
Angel shook his head and smirked as he brought the van to a stop at the motel parking lot entrance. He was amused by her answer to his question about what to get for lunch. It reminded him of Amanda teasing him during one of their first dates, saying that 'you choose' was a woman's code for 'give me ideas so I can figure out what sounds good.'
He had quickly learned how to pick the right options with Amanda. But now? Now, he needed to make a culinary choice not just for himself but also for a demon. A demon! He had to figure out what a demon ate. He was way out of his element here.
With the windows down to let in some cool, fresh air, Angel glanced down the road in both directions. There were very few businesses on the stretch where the motel sat, and for good reason. He valued his privacy, and when he could, he would book a room away from the center of town. The only drawback was the lack of quick-service restaurants.
Usually, this wouldn't be a problem—he'd just take some time to go into town and pick up a few things for the day, but he didn't want to leave Charlotte alone for too long. Sighing, he checked the gas gauge and saw the needle hovering near empty. Filling up first would give him time to decide on where to go.
Once the traffic cleared, he turned right, drove along the street, and pulled into the closest gas station. He parked beside a pump, leaned back in the captain's chair, and drew a deep, slow breath. Before taking any further action, he needed to check in with his source, who was likely awaiting his report with concern.
Fishing his cell phone from his breast pocket, Angel made the call. He listened as the phone rang just once before being answered. Internally, he cringed, bracing for the reprimand that was sure to come. It did.
"Finally!" A woman's crisp, annoyed voice answered. "I was getting this close to calling you, wondering if you'd wound up in jail again. Are you okay?"
Despite the tone, he appreciated her concern and sighed softly. "I'm fine, Cassie."
"Good, because while I agreed not to call or text you during a mission for safety reasons, I expect you to contact me immediately after. I worry enough about you as it is."
"Sorry, sis. By the time I got the kids to the hospital and dealt with Amanda, I could barely think."
"Amanda?" Scolding gave way to humored concern. "Did she bust your balls again?"
He responded with a light chuckle. "Pretty much."
"You know she worries about you, too, right?"
"And mostly keeps the fuzz off me, so I have to play nice." Angel scoffed.
"I get the feeling you didn't, though." There was no question in Cassie's tone.
"I snapped," he admitted. "I feel bad about it, but last night got to me more than usual."
"What happened?"
"Nothing serious." Angel lied, adding, "Nothing I want to talk about right now, anyway. Okay?"
"I know when not to pry," Cassie hummed. Changing the topic, she added, "Anyway, I filed the report with all the others, as usual."
"Thanks. Any leads?"
"No. The Frequencies have been quiet all night."
Angel relaxed. "Good. I could use the break."
"Yes, you need it," Cassie gently chided. "Going nonstop for weeks is going to make you sick. Promise me you'll get some real sleep."
"I promise." He assured her. "I need to get something to eat first, then I'll take it easy for a while."
"Good. I'll be in touch if necessary. But only if necessary, understood?"
"Yes, ma'am!" He gave a mock salute to the phone.
Cassie chuckled. "Take care."
"Bye." Hanging up, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Moments later, as he was filling up the van, Angel looked to his right and saw a KFC a few blocks down the road. He wondered if Charlotte would like chicken. In response, his stomach growled, settling the matter.
After her shower, Charlotte changed into fresh clothes and plopped down on the edge of the bed. She picked up the brush Angel had left for her and began to work through the tangles in her hair.
Glancing at the TV, she felt curious and picked up the nearby remote. It was another moment of subconscious understanding, and instinctively she pressed the power button to turn on the TV. When the screen flared to life, images filled the screen, and with grooming forgotten, she became absorbed in the variety of programs available: sports, daytime soaps, sitcoms, court shows, news, and movies. Entranced by the choices, she flipped through channels until an action scene in a film caught her eye. Now absorbed and brushing forgotten, she lay on her stomach on the bed, fixated on the unfolding drama.
When Angel returned a little while later, arms loaded with plastic bags filled with food and drinks, Charlotte looked away from the TV and grinned excitedly, pointing to the screen. "This is so cool! What's it called?"
He peered at the movie playing and shrugged. "Robocop. I see you figured out the TV."
"Mmmhmm," she murmured, her attention fixed back on the movie.
With a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he slipped his military vest off his chair and tossed it onto the bed, then placed two boxes of KFC fried chicken along with large cups of soda on the table. Settling down, he noticed she was still absorbed in the film.
He cleared his throat to get her attention back. "Charlotte, you gotta eat."
Attempting to keep one eye on the TV, Charlotte tilted her head slightly and pouted. "But it's so goooood!"
With a quiet chuckle, Angel opened his box, grabbed the biscuit, and held it up teasingly. "Well, this is also goooood." He mimicked her with a smirk.
She nodded and stood, shifting sideways toward the table in an effort not to miss a moment on the screen, amusing him even more. She took a seat, and the smell of the chicken caught her interest, tearing her eyes away from the TV. Curious, she leaned in closer to the box. "What is it?"
With his mouth full, he gestured for her to wait. After swallowing, he took a sip of his soda and then pointed at each item in her box. "Chicken, coleslaw, mashed potatoes, biscuit."
"Chicken?" Charlotte repeated in a questioning tone as she picked up a drumstick.
The aroma was spicy and warm, and her stomach grumbled insistently. She pressed her teeth into the crispy skin and took a deep bite, the tender meat melting on her tongue. Eyes widening, she beamed at him and took a second, much larger bite. Chewing fast, she swallowed the piece, then ravenously devoured the rest until her teeth scraped against the bone.
When he heard the sharp crack of a bone, it suddenly occurred to him that she might not understand what she was eating. Quickly, he reached out and gently caught her wrist. "Whoa! You don't eat the bones!"
Bones?! Charlotte began to choke and quickly spat out what was in her mouth. She stared fearfully at his concerned face. "This is an animal?"
Angel blinked—he had never thought to explain the types of food humans eat or where they come from. Carefully, he explained that animals like chickens, cows, and fish were raised and processed in facilities for food, while fruits, wheat, and vegetables were grown and harvested from farms.
She sniffed, her expression sad and angry. "That's terrible. Those poor creatures don't deserve to be slaughtered so thoughtlessly." Glaring at the other piece of chicken in the box, she growled, "I can't eat this, and I refuse to eat any kind of meat if it means the suffering of any innocent animal, Angel." Her gaze shifted from her box to his. "And you shouldn't either!"
Grudgingly, Angel complied with a silent nod. He couldn't argue her point and wouldn't even try if he could. He'd just have to go without many of his favorite dishes for a while.
She sniffled and pointed to the other items. "And these?"
Famished and not wanting to go hungry, he spoke perhaps a little faster than usual. "I promise these are not made of meat or are made by harming any animals, Charlotte. These are made from growing crops on farms. The biscuit is made from wheat, the potatoes grow in the ground, and the coleslaw is a mix of vegetables and sauces."
For a long moment, Charlotte stared at the other items, and then, with a skeptical look and with one eye on him, she tried them one at a time.
The tension seemed to thin out as her cautiousness gave way to hunger, and she began to eat normally. Sighing, Angel threw his chicken in the trash and scooped up some coleslaw instead. He could hardly believe a demon was a vegetarian. That absurd thought made him silently chuckle, because it only served to remind him that he was actually having a meal with one in the first place.
As they finished lunch in silence, Charlotte's demeanor softened considerably. After tossing their empty containers into the trash, she gazed at him gently. "I'm sorry, Angel. I sort of understand the necessity. After all, animals hunt prey all the time, don't they? I just can't imagine harming something innocent or benefiting from it for my own needs."
He stared at her quietly for a few seconds. Her words hit hard, stirring memories that forced him to close up and not respond.
She noticed his withdrawal. "Angel? Are you okay?"
Nodding slightly, he smiled reassuringly. "I am. It's okay. What you said reminded me of something, that's all."
"Oh?" she prompted.
"It's not that important," he lied. "Don't worry about it, okay?" Gazing past her to the television, he aimed to distract her. "The movie's back on."
It worked. She swiveled her head to follow his gaze and was reminded of the film. "You called this what? 'Robocop'?"
Grateful that his ploy worked, he checked the scene playing on the screen and quickly summarized the plot up to that point. Then, during the commercials, Angel shared details about the actors, where certain scenes had been filmed, and other interesting trivia. He enjoyed these kinds of movies, and it had been years since he spent an evening watching them with anyone.
Then, during a particular scene, one character echoed a line from earlier, prompting her to ask, "What does 'I'll buy that for a dollar' mean? That guy keeps saying it."
"It's sort of like a 'catchphrase.'" Noticing her look of confusion, he clarified, "It's a word or expression used often by a main character in a comedic or climactic moment. 'Make my day,' or 'hasta la vista, baby' are examples heroes would quip at the villain when they defeat them at the end of a story."
Her eyes lit up. "Heroes say that? Like you, right? Do you have a catchphrase?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm no hero, Charlotte. I do this because it's the right thing to do."
"Which is what heroes do, right?" She prodded.
"I don't like the label, okay?" He turned away. "I wouldn't deserve it anyway."
The pain in his voice ended her interest in the movie, and she picked up the remote to turn off the TV. Reaching across the table, she touched his arm. "Why wouldn't you deserve it?"
He shook his head, refusing to answer. She tried a different approach. "Will you at least tell me something about you? You've done so much for me, but I still don't know who you are."
"I don't like talking about myself much."
Pushing her chair aside, Charlotte stood up and walked around the table to where he was sitting and knelt before him. Taking both his hands and gripping them gently, she looked into his eyes with warmth and sincerity. "I don't know who I am or where I came from, Angel, but you saved my life. If I could, I would share everything about myself with you." Her eyes shimmered with emotion. "But I can't do that. Not yet, anyway. Until then, would you mind telling me a little about yourself? I really want to know."
Her vulnerability was raw, and he yielded to her request. "I can share some things with you for now, but there are memories I don't want to revisit—at least not anytime soon. You're right, though. For you to trust me and for us to be a team, I guess I need to open up somewhat."
With a grateful smile, she gave his hands a firm squeeze in appreciation. Standing up, she returned to her chair and sat down, ready to listen. He faced her, but before he could speak, his phone rang.
He fished it out of his pocket and checked the screen. "Hold that thought for a moment; this could be important."
Slightly disappointed, but also prepared to go to work, Charlotte nodded solemnly as Angel stood and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. She could hear his voice as if he were next to her, answering the phone with a simple, "Yes?"
Though she could have eavesdropped to find out if there was another mission, she chose to give him the privacy he deserved and tuned him out. He would let her know in a moment, anyway.
Sighing wistfully, her mind drifted back to the moment in the shower, where she was consumed with thoughts of him. His identity and actions, which she found both incredible and heroic, made her wonder what drove him to give up an ordinary life to hunt down monsters and save the innocent.
However, another emotion stirred within her—something deeper and more personal. She didn't fully understand it at the moment, but it marked the start of infatuation, triggered by his heroic act of saving her, his caring gestures, his kind treatment, and, importantly, not running away when he discovered her true nature. Yet, this feeling was balanced by another, uncomfortable one: her awareness of what she was and probably where she came from, knowing that her time with him was limited. Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted by the sharp opening of the room's front door.
Angel's figure, large and tense, filled the doorway. His tone was urgent. "Pack up. We have a mission."