Black Mirror

Chapter 12 - Cupid Carries A Gun

***FIONNA***

Russell spent all day Wednesday driving us down to Bearville. I've held Kensi's hand the whole time, and for whatever reason, we haven't both been awake at any one time. But I've been awake in enough fits and starts to notice one or both of the boys staring at us. Each time I caught them, I thought something along the lines of, Yeah, you big fat cutieheads don't get to be the only couple around here. Then I would turn away, burying my head in Kensi's hair. You could say I was getting familiar with her scent. Sure, when she was all over me the night before, I had no problem smelling her, but that was more her sweat. Her default scent is softer, sweeter. Like jasmine. I inhale that perfume - from her shampoo, I think - and run my thumb over her knuckles, one after the other.

Her thumb is her secret weapon. I've learned so much from it, and imitated its style beautifully.

For now, though, I'll have to wait for more thumb adventures. It's a good thing we spent most of Wednesday sleeping off and on, because by the time we returned to Bearville around nine at night, Russell made it clear we weren't stopping to sleep.

First, he took me to the armory under our apartment building, where he got me a wingsuit. "Generation IX prototype," he said, putting the shiny black material into my arms and gesturing to what looked like a chem lab emergency shower concealed behind a curtain. "Lightweight and breathable, and you can wear it like thermal underwear. Or...or a Spidey-suit." He pulled up his own shirt, revealing a suit of the same material underneath. "Binds in the crotch less, though."

"Am I supposed to trust it 'cause you wear one too?" I asked.

His brother Harlan walked in at this point, smelling like he'd just smoked a joint. Scarfing down a brownie, he said, through a full mouth, "The secret is woven-in hemp fibers."

"Good to know," I said. "Uh..." I looked over to the shower, the only private space in the room thanks to the array of security cameras in all the other corners. "Can I have a knife? I'm gonna need to-"

Russell and Harlan both reached for the Swiss Army knives on their belts, and Harlan, despite being stoned like always, got his first. "Don't cut all the way down to the hem of your shirt," he said, gently putting the knife into my hands.

"Or jacket-" Russell cut in.

"And try to make the cuts an inch and a half away from where your spine would be," Harlan added. "That's how we do it. Angels do it an inch, but their wings are a tad bit less bulky than ours."

"Not that I could tell the difference." I got into the shower and closed the curtain, then stripped down to my underwear. I wondered if I should get completely naked before putting the wingsuit on, just based on Russell's "Spidey-suit" comment, but in the end, I decided against it. The suit turned out to not be so skintight anyway.

I couldn't spread my wings to their full span in the cramped space, but after putting my street clothes on over the suit, I opened them as much as I could and took a celebratory selfie. It was only my second time in a wingsuit, but this one was so much less clunky than that one I stole from that asshat in Holly's army. That was awesome enough to use, but this one was a whole other story.

Wearing regular clothes over the armor, I felt like an angel.

Now we're approaching the secret Terminal door in the back of Russell's place, for a purpose none of us teenagers know about yet. Truly, our work is never done.

Ariel gazes with wonder through the door after Russell opens it. "I can't remember the last time I visited this place."

"Did you ever have the cookies?" Russell asks.