Don't Talk to Strangers

IV

I woke up the next morning with a crick in my neck. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, trying to go back to sleep. It's Saturday, isn't it? I desperately thought.

Sure, it was Saturday, but I'd forgotten some key details: I wasn't at home. And it certainly wasn't going to be a normal, casual Saturday.

Dan was already up and when he dropped something in the kitchen, I was jerked from my sleepy daze. I sat up on the couch and rubbed my eyes, stretching awake. "What the—Where am I?" I breathed, glancing around. Then, "How could I forget?" I slapped my forehead.

Dan opened the door slowly and peeked his head in. "You up?"

I yawned and nodded. "Yeah," I answered reluctantly.

I took a few minutes to rise and shuffled into the kitchen. "What...?" I murmured, looking at the table, which was fully set up with breakfast.

Dan grinned, "I'm sorry, I wanted to make you feel comfortable. Like you said," he added quietly, "not many officers would've done something like this."

I hid a smile and sat down, eagerly awaiting the waffles he'd been preparing. We sat and ate, not talking too much. I couldn't help the conflicting feelings of angst and serenity. I felt at home in this man's kitchen, eating waffles with him. But why?

Finally, after I'd seemingly eaten my full, Dan cleared his throat. "So... business." My stomach dropped and I folded my hands in my lap, averting my gaze. I was always one to avoid the problem.

"I... We..." he struggled to begin.

"How are we going to catch this guy?" I asked him quickly.

He sighed. "Well... I guess we should let the station know I've got it under control. You see, I'm undercover," he explained. I raised an eyebrow. I hope that wasn't meant to impress me. He continued, "So that means not many of the officers there know about what I'm doing. They believe I'm out on a leave. I can contact the headman though, and then I'll have to get you set up somewhere else. Somewhere where this guy can't find you."

I looked down. "Alright."

We cleaned up the breakfast and while he got ready, I tidied up the living room—nameably the couch—and ran to the bathroom to try to look more presentable.

Then Dan came down and we headed out the door. In the car, I asked him, "Can we go to my apartment to get my stuff?"

Dan shifted, taking a moment to answer. "Erm... You can't go back to your apartment for a while. That would be dangerous, you know, since your stalker knows where you live, and all."

I shrunk down into my seat. "Oh." I thought about my mom, how she would be worried if I didn't call her soon—she liked me calling every morning. So she didn't feel lonely. I thought about how my sister was going to come to my house this week. They'd certainly notice my absence.

As we entered the highway, I remembered that Dan still hadn't spoken my name. "Hey... Dan?" I said quietly.

He tilted his head, "Yeah?"

"You know my name... right? I mean, you haven't said it. I figured if you were specially protecting me... you'd know who I am."

He tensed up, taking long, slow, deep breaths. He seemed nervous. Why would he be nervous? He should know my name, after all. Finally, he responded coolly, "Of course. I've been told. I don't like getting too close to my charges, though, so that we can both walk away when everything's over and just... forget, and live on."

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh... of course." I debated whether or not to test him on it, but decided not to. He had saved me, after all. Hadn't he? I mean... creepy men following you in cars are always the bad guys. Right?