protect your head and maybe your heart too

stay in character

"When you say it like that it feels so simple." I say leaning against him.

"We've been in more stressful situations. I hardly call this under pressure."

"We aren't agents anymore." I grab a cookie. "We aren't anything right now."

"While the world may not know our past, we still do. And I'm telling you, you're acting like a middle schooler who just got partnered with their crush for a project. We have nearly died thousands of times. It doesn't compare."

"To you ! You didn't see how cute she looked."

Damian smiled. "I'll have to take your word for it." His eyes trailed over my face.

"What? Do I have cookie crumbs on my face?"

"No, you just- you look quite different now."

I laugh. "I think it's kinda the point."

Damian pulled me over to a big full length mirror on the wall. "You should be bringing your son, Timmothy, to school."

"That's what I thought!" I say. My baggy jackets and black graphic tees had been replaced with soft cotton elbow length sleeves. I wore mom jeans in assorted shades of blue, with pale, muted, colored shirts. My once dip dyed hair was now chin length and brown. I had tried out a more natural eyeshadow instead of my heavy black liner.

Damian wore name brand graphic tees and skinny jeans. The new style showed off the muscles he had earned by being an agent. His hair had been dyed a deeper shade of brown, getting rid of the natural highlights he had before.

"WPP really took the homo out of our appearance, huh?" I asked, grinning at Damian through the mirror.

He nodded. "We truly look like a married couple."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, watching our reflections move with us. Damian rested his chin on my head. "Especially when we stand like this."

I laugh, but don't bother to pull away. "We've had to fake a relationship before. How hard could this be in the long term?"

Hard.

Very hard.

Damian and I had gone into town at different times to look for jobs (even if it went against my trophy wife title, I couldn't just sit home all day). I had multiple people come up and ask me if I was Damian's wife, based purley off the description he gave, and every time I almost denied it before remembering.

It wasn't being affectionate that was an issue, that was never the problem. I've gone so many years calling Damian byt best friend and partner.

We still were partners, just in a different way.

I walked into a flower shop with a sign that said 'for hire'. Janis Sarkisan would never even think of working here, but Janis Sarkisian wasn't here anymore.

Is it morbid to say she's dead?

Nah, Janis Sarkisan was dead. Until further notice at least.

There was a dude behind the counter. He looked to be about my age.

"Hello, what can I get you?"

I look at the name tag. Aaron. Totally fits the bill for that name.

"Hi, my name is Janis, I'm new to town and I saw that your window said for hire?"

"Yes! The owner actually isn't here today, but I could give her your number and you can pick a day to come in and apply if you would like." Aaron says.