INTERLUDE: Fluff

While cleaning up the living room of the apartment, Mirka picks up my journal. I had forgotten I tossed it aside. She starts leafing through it backwards, every page bringing a little more melancholy to her smile. "Lena, did you lose this?"

"Huh? Oh, no. Just... kind of over it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sixty-five entries into the damn thing, and it's done nothing to actually help me understand myself. Meanwhile we have a nice chat in the car yesterday, and suddenly I'm happier than I've ever been and feel closer to knowing who I am than before. I don't know what to make of it."

She sits on the arm on the couch, closing the journal. "It's almost like people are more than a list of traits."

I roll my eyes as her bittersweet smile turns into a sarcastic smirk, and playfully push her off the couch's arm and onto the cushions. She laughs, throwing a pillow at me, eliciting a faint blush I struggle to control. She's such a goofball at home, compared to her seriousness at work. Fortunately, I happen to like both halves of her.

"So what are you gonna do with it now?" Mirka remains prone on the couch, holding the fraying composition book aloft."

I walk over, and take it from her. "Not sure, yet. Might decompose it, might let it collect metaphorical dust in my void, might fill it out for the hell of it. What do you think?"

"I think it's your journal, and you get to decide."

"As usual, you're absolutely no help at all."

She replies with throwing a second pillow at me. "You know what we should do, Lena?"

"Nope."

"We should, drum roll please, go on an actual date."

"We've been on... wait, we haven't, have we?" We spend so much time together that I had forgotten about dates existing altogether. She literally holds me in her sleep, yet we haven't gone out together in a romantic context once.

"No, we haven't. I want to take you on one."

The nerve of her. "Hell no. I'm taking you out. As the dominant member of our-"

Before I have a chance to finish, she gets up from the couch, and starts methodically walking towards me. She doesn't stop, so I take a step back, and then another, confused about what she's doing. She keeps walking toward me, looking sternly into my eyes, until I'm backed all the way against the wall. She leans in, pressing her hand against the wall only inches from my head, while I try to figure out why I didn't stand my ground and why my shell refuses to stop quivering.

"I," she says, "am taking you on a date. Half an hour. You can wear whatever you want, but I'd like to see you in a dress."

Am I really about to fold that easily? More importantly... do I even want to resist? "...yeah. Okay."

"Good girl." She winks at me with a rightfully earned confidence, before leaving to the bedroom to change.

What the hell just happened? And why are there so many damn endorphins flooding my shell right now? Whatever that was, she certainly earned that date...

There's a pressing concern now: I have exactly zero dresses ready. I have a handful in memory that are in my shell's size, but I've always been more of the pants and a loose top kind of person, regardless of my shell. Still, I have to wear something...

Damn it. She said half an hour. It takes me about twenty five minutes to construct one. I have to pick the right one, though, right? I have a slutty red one I use exclusively for distracting people, which I'm obviously not wearing. Maybe a simple blue A-line? No, that's a terrible idea for September... I think. Damn it. I never thought about fashion before this exact instant...

Screw it. I have a tan and khaki maxi dress with short sleeves and a bit of a V. It's not particularly a first date dress, but it's still nice. I pull my shell back into my core and start fabricating it.

I'm not wearing heels, though. Mostly because I don't actually own any, nor do I have any in my mental library of clothing. Slip ons it is.

The outfit is barely done in time. Well, relatively on time, anyway. When I send out my shell again, Mirka is leaned against the wall by the door, theatrically looking at a non-existent wristwatch. "Late for the first date, huh?"

"Says the one watching me change," I quip.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're really broken up about it, and not secretly thrilled."

Jesus Christ, what has gotten into her today? We kissed one time. One! It was passionate, and emotional, and we have been dating for a few weeks, and... okay. I'm starting to see it now.

It's strange, how much more I've been considering my Lena shell as my own body lately. It's become an extension of myself, not just a convenient form like my raven shell is. When I kissed Mirka, it was me kissing her, not just my shell.

"Wait, you're wearing torn jeans and a Whatchamacallit t-shirt? And I'm in a dress?"

"It's Waxahatchee, and yes. Come on, passenger princess." She takes me hand, pulling me outside the apartment and towards her car. I manage to regain a little dignity by walking alongside her while holding hands, instead of being dragged around like a toddler.

I begrudgingly take the passenger seat, watching her deft hand motions as she turns the keys and pulls the gear stick into reverse, before starting northward.

I turn my head to face the side of her's. "Wanna tell me where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? Looks like you're going to have to wait for a while. Just be patient."

"Mimi."

Her face starts to turn a little red. Her Achilles' heel.

"You're so pretty, Mimi. You have such soft skin... I love the way your silky brown hair falls and frames your lovely face..."

She's turning significantly more red. An easy victory, just within my grasp.

"God, you're beautiful, Mimi. So hot. Just looking at the elegant contours of your muscles-"

She curses after overcorrecting the car, having started to drift into the other lane. It jostles me in my seat, giving her a moment to talk. "Keep it up. See if I don't pull this car over and get us taken in for indecent exposure."

"What do-"

"You know exactly what I mean, but I already bought the tickets online for location one of three. Don't make me get into an accident or arrested before we even get get there," she pleads, as if both of those options would be equally out of her control.

"Fine, fine..." I let it drop, for now. It's good to know how easy it is to get under her skin.

I instinctively reach for my journal, as if to write that down. But that's not about me, right? A strange reaction.

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"An... aquarium?" I ask, seeing as we approach it in her car.

"Yes. An aquarium. It's a good spot for a date, right?" she eagerly asks, not looking at the road as much as she looks at me.

I don't really know how to answer that, given I have been on a grand total of zero dates in my life. Up until recently, I hadn't even considered infatuation as a thing I was capable of, let alone going on dates. An aquarium makes sense as a first date spot, though, right? Fish are cool..?

"Aaaaand you hate it. God damn it."

"Wait, I-"

She flicks her turn signal, ready to turn around. "Not your fault, I can recover from this."

"No, that-"

"It's not a problem, I-"

"MIMI!" I shout.

She, startled, turns off the signal. "What..?"

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"I was just lost in thought. I've never been on a date before, so I didn't really know what to expect. I would love to go to the aquarium with you."

She snorts, "Yeah, bullshit you've never been on a date. Not to play too hard into stereotypes, but you're a shapeshifter."

"I'm serious. I literally never felt attraction before meeting you, let alone pursued anyone. Also, I'm pretty sure that's... what's the word for being prejudiced against non-humans?"

She finds a parking spot somewhere, smirking skeptically at me. "You don't have to try and impress me. I'm not going to get jealous."

I take my journal, flipping to entry 17. "I wrote that when I was messing with my shell, and had you compliment me. Remember? When I was blushing really hard?"

She looks at the journal entry for a full minute before offering it back. "Ah. I, uhh... assumed otherwise."

"Now don't you feel silly?" I joke, stepping out of the car.

She follows me as I tread to the aquarium's glass, steel, and stone exterior. Once close to the entry, she grabs my shoulders from behind as people walk around us. I stay frozen in place. She leans over and whispers in my ear: "...the only thing I feel right now is extra lucky. By the way, you look damn good in a dress."

She lets go of my shoulders, snagging my hand and taking me inside. Once again, I'm being pulled along like a tired dog on a leash, forced to make my tense muscles move and keep up.

This is getting embarrassing. I'm not a sociopath. I'm not entirely amoral, but for God's sake, I'm not about to let myself be turned into jelly over Mirka whispering. This game isn't over yet. I isolated her weakness in the car, and now I just need the prime opportunity to take the kill shot. Once I have her stuttering and frozen, I'll have proven myself.

The aquarium is gorgeous, admittedly: dimly lit, lots of blue lights, and more sea animals at every step. Like most aquariums, the focus seems to be on children, but I can't see how fish would be exclusively the domain of the youth.

Our first stop is a smaller fresh water exhibit showing local fish from the Great Lakes. It's nice to see things from the lakes that aren't pictures of giant magical beasts, I admit. There's a tranquility here, watching them move around in their little tanks. I wonder if they even know they're not where they're supposed to be.

The background of loud children and a distant crying baby is broken by Mirka gently squeezing my hand. "Lena, if you start to feel claustrophobic, just tell me so we can leave. I promise, I won't bring it up. You feeling comfortable and safe is worth so much more to me than teasing."

I hadn't even considered it a possibility, but the dim lighting and twisting mazes of exhibits are a potential risk. And she noticed it before me. She thought about how comfortable I would be here.

I silently nod, no longer looking at the fish, but zoning out as I consider how much she must actually care about me.

The next exhibit, which we visit soon after, is a touchpool full of anemones and sea stars. Admittedly, it doesn't interest me much. Being a barely alive filter feeder is about as exciting to me as a dust cover, but I do it with Mirka anyway. They feel... kind of gross.

The next, though, is fascinating. We're situated just beneath a massive glass ring, full of schooling fish making an endless clockwise journey around us. A poet could probably comment something about humanity's fruitless struggle here, but for me, I'm satisfied holding Mirka's hand and watching the glistening scales weave around and around. There's a comforting elegance here.

It's here, beneath the ever-moving silver ring illuminated by the dim blue light, that we share our second kiss. It's soft, and short, but just as poignant to me as the first. It's a kiss made in contentment, because of the beauty around us and between us, not despite what we're fighting against.

The following exhibit is... less enjoyable, to put it lightly. In theory, it's amazing: a shark tunnel, where we're surrounded by curved glass that reveals sharks and rays swimming around and above us.

I, though, get a familiar anxiety the moment I step inside. Looking out through thick glass as the world passes by. It's such a tangential connection, but my mind decided to make it anyway.

Mirka noticed it immediately, bless her. "Hey. There's a bathroom in the touch pool room if you 'want to change'."

She was keeping track of places I could retract in privacy at, too? "No... I'm okay. Let's not stop, though. Straight through."

She takes my hand, and smiles at me. "Let me lead the way."

Mirka gently pulls me along. Unlike when she was playfully dragging me forward, this is more like a guide dog leading me ahead. I squeeze her hand tightly, staying calm in the seemingly ever-tightening space by focusing my attention of the back of her head.

Somehow, we escape the other end without me so much as breaking into a sweat. I even stopped at one point to watch a black-tipped shark pass by directly above, much to my own amazement. I'm fully relaxed and all smiles by the end of the tunnel.

"...Lena, could you let go, please..?" Mirka haltingly asks, faint tears in her eyes as we reach the end of the tunnel.

I let go immediately, concerned. "Everything okay?"

She hesitates as she clenches and unclenches her hand a few times. "Yeah. Just bruised."

Oh shit. Shit. I didn't realize how hard I must have been squeezing her. "Mirka, are you hurt? Why didn't you say anything?!"

She wipes away the half-formed tears, playfully waving me off. "Nothing a little ice can't fix, and you looked so astounded by the shark that I didn't want to say anything. I'm a big girl, I can handle a strong grip."

I don't even have words for her. Maybe they don't even exist.

After a short trip to the gift shop where I spent a week's rent on gifts for her to make up for almost breaking her hand, we return to the car, where I gently bandage her hand with the first aid kit from my void. Nothing too tight, but enough to provide a layer of cushioning.

"I'll drive, okay?" I offer, reaching for the door handle.

"Hell no, I can't have you denting my steering wheel," she jokes, before hesitantly adding on, "Sorry, that was uncalled for. It's not your fault."

"It actually is my fault. Obviously it's my fault. I'll be way more careful next time... I should be working on how self-centered I am in general, honestly." I offer a fragile smile as she takes the wheel once again.

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Part two of three in our date, evidently, is at Mirka's apartment. She takes me into the building, my previous memories of being here making my shell's stomach lurch. It doesn't take long to dissolve them, her sturdy smile and her softly held hand in mine keeping me calm. I can barely believe she's holding my hand again after what I did earlier.

Inside the apartment, though, is a little worrying.

All of her furniture is gone, besides the bed. Most of her stuff is packed away in cardboard boxes, the rest in bags labelled as "DONATE" or "TRASH". She sighs a bit. "Pay in MBR is worse than MCIS, so I'm moving soon. You get it."I don't, honestly. Money has never been a concern of mine. "If you need cash-"

"Nope, not taking charity. Although, I was hoping you could do me be a favor as part of our date."

"Helping you move. Romantic."

Mirka drags a finger from my lips to my chin. "Be a good girl for me, won't you? I just need to move these boxes into the box truck that's coming by in half an hour, and you're so strong... I'd do it myself, but it kind of hurts..." she pouts, cradling her bandaged hand.

"Maybe you're the sociopath..." I mutter. "So, where exactly are you living now? I thought this was as cheap as apartments got."

"Ahh, right. Well, I haven't finalized anything, but there's a nice one-bedroom I'm planning on splitting with a roommate."

I narrow my eyes at her. "One bedroom and a roommate? I'm not really into sharing you. I don't think."

A deep blush starts to traverse her face. "No, nothing like that. See, my roommate never uses the bedroom, so I'm probably just going to redecorate it a little and call it a day."

"What the hell kind of roommate doesn't use a bedroom?"

She slowly sighs, breaking eye contact as her face turns more red. "The kind that doesn't sleep."

Is this some kind of riddle? "What are you talking about? Humans all sleep."

"She isn't human. I'm at her place all the time anyway," she says, now staring me in the eyes.

"Wait, what? What magical beast friend are you... spending... Oh. Oh my God."

She looks relieved that I finally took the hint. "Like I said, nothing's finalized, and I do have other options on standby if it's too soon. I know it's a joke that lesbians move in together on the first date, but I spend so much time there already it makes practical sense to. If you're okay with that, anyway."

Her relief doesn't have a chance to turn into worry, as I immediately respond. "Please move in. Please, Mimi. I'd be lucky to have you, if you'd have me, anyway."

God, that sounded desperate... I suppose I am, in truth, but still.

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"And now..." Mirka says, as I drop the final one of her boxes into the bedroom of my- no, our- apartment, "Part three of the date can begin."

I observe her patiently, enamored by the idea of her never needing to leave. I had forgotten there was a part three, in truth, considering this date already exceeded all of my expectations. "What's part three?"

"Simple," she states, "I'm going to let you decide. After all, you said you wanted to take me on a date, right? Here's your chance."

My mind goes blank. Right, I did say that. I assumed I'd think of something on the fly, but now, my mind refuses to process it. What do humans like? Food? They like food. I can't cook, a restaurant? No, that's so basic. She's not a cop anymore, so that means we have options, right? Oh, she likes driving. Yes, a plan has formed.

"We're going to steal a food truck."

Mirka stares at me in total, crushing silence, each second ticking by like the steps of a giant beast. I'm beginning to wonder if I broke her brain.

She starts with a short "hah," which is followed by actual laughter. Within a few more seconds, she's collapsed on the floor in tears as she struggles to breathe through her near-manic laughter.

I wait for her to calm down. It wasn't my intention, but it sure as hell made her happy. That's a win in my book.

By the time she stops laughing, her face is bright red, eyes watery, and breathing heavily. "Please tell me why you said that. Was that just off the cuff? Because it was really damn funny."

"Actually... well, my thought process was that you like food, never let me drive, and you're not a cop."

I give her another moment to resume laughing, until she starts loudly coughing. I take the opportunity to order her favorite pizza online, as she tries to catch her breath in between the coughing fits from laughing too hard.

"Fuck, Lena. That was... God, that was good."

I offer a hand to help her up from the floor, which she takes. When she's back on her feet, she pulls me into a tight hug. "Thanks, Lena."

"For what?" I ask.

"For being you."

"You're... welcome? It's been hard to be myself, I admit, but I don't plan on being anyone else."

She pulls back, tightly squeezing my arm. "Good, because there's no one else I'd want... Lena, are you sure you're okay with me moving in? I know it was sudden."

I nod repeatedly. "You basically live here already. We're just making it official."

She leans in close, and we kiss once again. She doesn't let up this time, pinning me against the wall for a moment, until she breaks away to catch her breath. "I'm going to make something to eat quick, okay?"

"It's already being delivered. How's that for part three, Mimi?"

She's already about as red as she can get, so I can't tell if the pet name had the same effect as usual. "Ordering me food? Good girl... you should eat too, because I'd like to have a part four to our first date after we eat."

I crack a nervous grin. "Again, I've never done anything like this before, but I'm willing to try."

She leans in close again, whispering in my ear. "Don't worry, and relax. Just listen to what I tell you to do, and you'll be rewarded for it."

I get the feeling that no contact delivery was the right choice. The pizza is set to arrive at around seven, but that's half an hour away, and Mirka doesn't have a 'I can wait half an hour' look in her eyes.

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It's almost midnight by the time I actually get the pizza from outside my apartment door. It's as cold as ice, of course. As I bring it inside and see Mirka slipping her pajamas on, though, I've never felt warmer.