A Reunion of Lips

XII

Cleo must have seen the panic in his eyes because she jumped to his defense.

"I was the one who agreed to talk, not him."

"Too bad. Who else was on that train?"

Mitch shook his head. Think, Mitch. He raised his fist to his mouth and feigned coughing while Cleo berated the rebels for pushing him. Meanwhile, he pushed the key into his fist while they were distracted. Ew, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Cleo turned to him and stage whispered, "Are you okay? I know your cough isn't going away, do you want some water?"

He nodded and pressed the key into her hand, watching as her eyes widened just the slightest.

"That would be great, thanks," he rasped.

He tried not to look at her as she grabbed him a water bottle from the mini-fridge, trying to ignore her concealing the key under the rebels' noses.

"Um, I'm sorry," he turned to the rebels, trying to keep his voice a little rough to match his fake cough. "I don't know who else was on the train. I was just trying to go home."

"Where were you going?" Brunet Dude crossed his arms.

Mitch's heart was racing. "I live in the Capital, uh, fifth level."

The rebels glanced at each other and Mitch watched uncomfortably as they had a silent conversation with their eyes, hoping that they didn't catch his slip up when he lied. (He and Kirstie shared an apartment on the third level now, but he wasn't about to tell them that.) Cleo returned to the bed and sat next to him again, but only passed him the water and looked away. Mitch noted briefly that her hands were empty.

"Stand up."

"What?" Cleo tried to squirm out of Ginger Dude's grasp while Brunet Dude swung the fridge door open before grabbing Mitch and pulling him to standing, too.

Mitch felt his heart rate speed up even more against his shallow breathing as hands started patting him down. He didn't have anything on him, but if Cleo had the key yet—

Cleo seemed to be having a bit more trouble with her pat down than he was. Ginger Dude—the nasty fucker—seemed to be more interested in grabbing at her than checking her pockets.

"Stop it—" Cleo screeched while Mitch struggled against Brunet Dude and yelled a few choice obscenities at Ginger Dude.

Brunet Dude surprised him though, and snapped at Ginger Dude, "Get your hands off of her hijab. I will report you for that."

Ginger Dude scowled at Brunet Dude, but his hands retreated from Cleo's scarf and he stepped back. He nodded towards the hallway and Brunet Dude followed him.

"That's it? Not even a thank you for your cooperation, or anything?" Mitch called behind them as the door swung shut. He turned to Cleo and whispered, "Are you okay?"

She nodded and an evil grin spread across her face. She reached up her hand and pulled, from above her forehead in the folds of the fabric, the key. Mitch's grin matched hers quickly.

"I don't know what it's for," he mouthed, "but I have an idea."

Cleo grabbed the TV remote and flipped it on, cranking up the volume of I'll Make a Man Out of You. "You've had a lot of ideas lately. What is up with you?"

He shrugged and his right hand moved subconsciously to his ring. "I have someone I want to get back to, and I'm really starting to lose my patience."

Her eyes flicked down to his hand and her gaze softened.

"Tell me about your idea."

He looked over at the window and grinned. "How are you with heights?"