― George Orwell
Dangerous Shadows
I was sitting in the Hart House cafeteria proud of my new security system and my supposed independence from Cindy when in fact she was the detective tasked with protecting me, although I was blissfully unaware of my being sexist.
"Just so you know," she drawled in a little girl voice dripping with sarcasm, "I asked to put your cameras on my phone not so I could watch you but protect you."
I know that," I blushed.
"Just sayin' Prof, cause I'm not into femdom and not trying to dominate you."
"I get that."
"Good," she smirked, "brushing her lips lightly across my cheek. "I hope you do."
She took a pamphlet from her pocket and tossed it on the table.
"What's this?" I asked picking it up and seeing it was written in German.
"This is an example of what the Aryan Brotherhood has been up to just so you know it's not a dead movement. This was published in the 60's to create suspicion against migrant workers coming into Germany and they re-published it again prior to Brexit, trying to stir up national fervour and revive the lies of old-style Nazis."
"Then they're not a society of Friendly Uncles?" I asked euphemistically.
"Hardly," she sniffed, taking a bite of her croissant. "These guys are bloody scary and now Hans Bauer invited me to accompany him to his production of Faust at The Uptown Theatre."
"You gave him your phone number?" I croaked.
"Of course, how else would I infiltrate his little twisted circle?"
My stomach turned. Suddenly my fears of being dominated were nothing compared to my fears for her.
"Just being with this monster is dangerous," I hissed, "do you think this is wise?"
"Wow, I wasn't expecting this―it's my job, Laird. I work undercover. What did you expect?"
"I guess I expected you to observe him from a safe distance."
"I would," she laughed, "if they perfected satellite surveillance. But we're not geographically profiling him―I'm trying to get inside his head."
"Yeah, while he tries to get into your pants."
She put down the croissant, sat back in her chair and stared at me.
"You think to get a bust I'd go as far as to prostitute myself with him?"
I shook my head. "No, I know you wouldn't. I just can't stand the way he looks at you."
"That's sweet, Laird, but you can't put bubble-wrap around me...maybe, cellophane. Okay, bad joke. But I can take care of myself―and you. It's what I do, Prof and what I'm good at."
"I know, I know―but it goes against the grain of everything I feel."
"Look, obviously we both care about each other. I'm not reckless―everything is a calculated risk and Abe and the team are never far away for back-up. It's you I'm worried about. You're almost defenceless if the Brotherhood sees you as a nuisance. So, relax, Prof, I got this...and your back...."
She leaned across, caressed my cheek and whispered, "and I've got your lips," she murmured, "so don't worry, I really do have this."
I gazed into her eyes and got lost in streets and dark alleys where only the rain goes on windy nights and realized I loved her even more than I even thought...
and possibly more than I ever should.