The Other Kind of Roommate

"The fuck do you want?"

Alex regretted opening the door before he'd thought up an excuse about the noise. This slid under 'spectacularly stupid', seeing how his life depended on those lies. Neighbours were the second greatest threat he faced: crotchety, nosy, dickish, 'I have work in the morning', 'I'll get the landlord' types who went out of their way to plan legal surprise parties. The right line got them to leave. Agents never left. It was his best trick for telling the two apart. Now he'd screwed himself, because instead of saying something convincing, he stared at her. Then he kept staring, waiting for his mouth to move.

"The fuck do you want?"

Thanks, Xander.

"Uh – hello, I mean," Alex said. Sincere. He wanted sincere. "Can I help you?"

"... Yeah..." This was new. The girl looked more uncomfortable than he did. She stood with her hand holding her other shoulder like she was her own security blanket. Maybe it had to do with the staring. "I wanted to..."

Take your time. I could use the rest.

Alex's hands twitched. Xander, don't start.

"... visit."

Oh. Uh... Okay. He waited, but she didn't elaborate. The normal written complaints and petitions weren't anywhere he saw, either. This fell far from his element. Alex continued Operation: Cold, Dead Eyes until he clued in to echo her nervous, "'Visit'?"

That broke the dam: "Ah – sure! You know, because – ah... you live here, and I live here – only I don't – like – um... live here so... don't try to come and find me or anything! You won't! Ha-ha!"

Alex noted the forced giggle.

D'aww. She thinks you're a mental patient, Xander cooed.

He probably was. He'd wandered in a walking coma for a month after their big Agent-land escape. Six years really flew by since then. And where he used 'flew', Alex meant 'dragged with the agony of carrying an extra voice inside his head'.

"But yes, I –" Right. Her. "I came to visit. I – ah... wanted to say 'hi'." She paused. "So... hi, and I will simply be leaving now so – see ya later, gator!"

"Much later," he swore the girl muttered.

That was weird. That handled itself. Were they done? Where's my fucking latté?

"Hey, is that it?" She'd already started leaving. Fast. "You're not here about the fight?"

"Oh, I – oh my God," she shrieked. Alex leapt back. "Your face!"

That's what I always tell him!

"You – you look..."

She'd been ten steps away when she turned to reply. From there, she freaked and waved her hands at his head, talking very loudly. Sure – his face, the mirror, the bruises... He figured she was saying he looked bad. She noticed, by the way, 'cause he'd even more stupidly stepped out there to call to her. He got behind the door and shut it to a crack. Alex didn't need her glancing inside if that's how she felt over a swollen cheek. With his track record in catching breaks, the girl worked as a room inspector. Paying extra on his rent only bought so much 'understanding', and his deposit had long gone. Thanks, Xander.

This place sucks anyway.

"I'm alright," Alex promised. "This is nothing."

"That was your fight?" The girl squinted at him. She didn't move closer. Neither of those made for good signs. "That was from today?"

"Uh..." What should he tell her? "Yes?"

"Oh my God. Oh my God – I had no idea! Who were you fighting?"