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The clock was ticking and Alex wasn’t sure if they wanted it to stop, or if they wanted it to go faster. Every tick was one second closer to fraying their nerves; it was also one second closer to when their answer would arrive.
Not that they knew precisely when said answer would arrive. Only that it was due any minute now. And they had been waiting for – was it really months now?
Polished leather loafers sank into the plush carpet of their home office as they stopped pacing. Faint footprints stretched out in a path behind them, tracing a trail through the spacious room. Soaring ceilings, with dark wood and darker fixtures gave the impression of a cave – especially with the curtains closed.
Gauzy fabric hung in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the front of their house, muting the sunlight that streamed in over their columned balcony. The curtains were thin enough to put a barrier between Alex and the road. Not that you could really see into their house – between the wrought iron gate, the curving, paved driveway, and the old trees, there were enough obstacles to block all but the most inquisitive of passers by.
But if you stood on the road, at just the right angle…you could see in.
Alex knew this, because they were standing at that exact right angle, staring out. Waiting for the rumble and whine of the garbage truck to pass by.
The clock continued to tick.
Once the garbage truck passed, they’d have their answer.
Breaking away from their spot, Alex strode over to their desk. It wouldn’t do for their silhouette to be seen in the window. Even if they were hardly visible.
No, that would be coming on too strong.
Leather creaked as Alex sat. They breathed – slowly, evenly. Their mouth wasn’t dry. Their heart wasn’t beating just a little bit faster than normal. The dampness on their palms was leftover residue from the leather conditioner their housekeeper used.
They were not nervous.
They snapped their laptop open, movements crisp and deliberate.
They were not nervous over a
garbage collector.
They clicked the icon that brought up their home security cameras and toggled through the feeds until they found the front gate camera.
Fingers steepled in front of their face, they waited. And they watched. And the clock kept ticking.
Alex heard it first – the rumble of machinery that meant the garbage truck was approaching. There was nothing on the camera…yet.
But it was only a matter of time. Just a few more ticks, and then…
A shiver of delight ran down Alex’s spine as they finally – finally! – heard the unmistakable whine of air breaks before a dark green garbage truck pulled into view.
The worker who stepped down from the vehicle was unremarkable. Average height, average build. One of those god awful city-issued sanitation uniforms. The only thing that was remotely interesting about them was their unruly mop of dishwater brown hair.
That, and the way they stopped when they got to Alex’s trash cans.
For the camera to be within city bylaws, Alex’s security team had had to angle it so that it caught only a very narrow strip of road, while still covering all of their front gate. This meant all they could see of Morgan – (of course they knew the garbage collector’s name, why would they be waiting for them if they didn’t?) – was the swirl of the cowlick on the back of their head.
Alex didn’t have to remind themself to breathe. They weren’t nervous. There was no reason for them to be nervous. Their garbage collector wasn’t – were they hesitating?
Morgan was unnaturally still on camera. Every other week, when Alex had left little gifts for them in the trash, there had been slight signs of movement. Alex might not be able to see their hands, but they could tell from the shifts in their shoulders – and the completed cubes they found after – that Morgan enjoyed the Rubik’s cubes Alex had taken to leaving on top of their neatly tied garbage bags. Hidden away under the garbage can lid, they were unmistakable gifts for the garbage collector, scrambled and ready to go.
Except this one…this one was different.
This time, Alex had gone one step further. Dared a bit more. Pushed just a little closer to the edge…
But Morgan’s shoulders had stopped moving. And now they just stood there, motionless. Like they were staring at something.
Morgan and Alex both jumped at the blare of the horn. Morgan’s coworker was, apparently, very impatient today.
Whatever.
Alex watched Morgan haul the bags of trash out of the bins and toss them in the truck before stepping on again. Compressed air hissed as the truck rolled away, in sync with the wheels of Alex’s chair as they pushed back from the carved mahogany desk.
Brushing off the lapels of their suit jacket, Alex strode through their house. The clack of their shoes echoed down the hall. Alex restrained themself; it would be too undignified to run. They weren’t
nervous
, after all. It was just…expeditious to check now, after Morgan had left, before Alex got distracted by work for the day.
Shoulders braced against potential stares from their staff, Alex strode down the marble staircase, across the foyer, and threw open the front doors. Their hand slipped off the knob – still sweaty – but they didn’t care as they resisted the urge to jog across the cobblestone driveway and over to the gate.
Their heart rate undeniably picked up as they got closer to the gate. To the bins. To their answer.
This time, they’d left a note on top of this week’s Rubik’s cube (a limited edition, metallic anniversary cube). And Morgan…
Had Morgan left them an answer?
Alex swallowed, scavenging for spit in their mouth as they approached the wooden garbage station their staff had set up just beside the gate. They couldn’t stop themself from looking as they ducked through the human-sized gate at the side.
Metallic paint gleaming in the sun, the completed Rubik’s cube sat, solved, on top of the wooden ledge, just like the others had every week since Alex started leaving tokens for the garbage collector. A scrap of white paper poked out from underneath it, one corner hanging down limply.
There it was. Alex’s answer.
They reached over and snatched the paper from under the cube, sharp, snappy movements reminiscent of a magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a pile of dishes. But Alex was not a magician, and the Rubik’s cube tottered, spinning on one corner for a moment before it wobbled precariously.
Alex wasn’t paying attention to it. Their eyes were glued to the paper, already taking in and starting to process Morgan’s answer.
Elegant, scripted letters asked “Will you go out with me?”
A bold, blocky black marker had written back: “No.”
The Rubik’s cube clattered to the ground.
Alex left it there as they scrunched the letter in their fist, heading back inside with the same barely-controlled urgency as before. But this time, instead of covering nerves, it covered anguish and despair.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
With burning lungs and screaming calves Alex ran, high-end trainers slapping the pavement. Their body wanted them to stop, slow down, turn back. They wanted to keep going – turning back now ran the risk of running into their garbage collector.
It had been five weeks since the note debacle and Alex wanted nothing more than to forget the alluringly unremarkable sanitation workers who’d been haunting them for months. They didn’t even have the good grace to change routes after rejecting them! Seriously.
Which was why they were out running. Their normal methods of stress relief had done nothing for them over the last month; all they could think about, could focus on was Morgan. Even hunting brought them no distraction – only potential mistakes (which could be catastrophic).
The most infuriating thing, though – the one that burned through their veins and propelled them forward – was the way Morgan kept solving the puzzles Alex left for them. Each one carefully solved and placed on top of the wooden hutch that contained their garbage cans. Like they were simple, easy.
And yet the notes they’d left behind were blank – empty, except for Alex’s calligraphic scrawl. Solved puzzles against blank paper felt like a mockery. Each one a blow to Alex’s ego. They were rich, gorgeous, owned the family business – what was there for a(n admittedly fascinating) garbage collector to reject?
WHY NOT?!
the second note had demanded. Only to be met with the blankness that stood in for silence.
Please?
the next one had pleaded.
More silence.
I’ll buy you jewels.
White space – and more silence.
(It figured the object of Alex’s obsession couldn’t be bribed.)
Or we could just start with coffee?
last week’s note had promised. It was an attempt, not to be cheap, but to take the pressure off … and to blatantly appeal to the one thing Alex knew Morgan loved above all else.
(Of course they’d been snooping around; how else would they have learned Morgan’s name? It’s not like they’d
talked
to the garbage collector or anything.)
I’ll take you to that new museum exhibit
the latest note had promised, just this morning. From what Alex had been able to scrape off of Morgan’s (very bare) socials they thoroughly enjoyed things like museums.
Alex wasn’t sure why they did – or why anyone
would
, for that matter. But if it got Morgan to go out with them…
Their pace slowed, dappled shade from the large trees that lined the road leaving one shoulder in shadow while the other was slowly turning red in the sun. (In their haste to get out of the house and away from the impending trash pickup this morning, Alex may have forgotten sunscreen.)
Sneakers squeaked as they spun around, turning back. They could keep running, sticking to the shade. But the nauseating, anxiety-ridden hope was going to burn them alive either way. At least when they were running it was easy to pretend their chest was tight from exertion instead of anticipation – anticipation of a yes that looked less and less likely to come.
(If they didn’t get a response today, Alex would have to figure out something else, because they were running out of ideas.
(But kidnapping Morgan seemed like such a gauche thing to do…it would definitely start their relationship off on the wrong foot. And would probably give Morgan the right idea about Alex’s hobbies.))
Jogging back, Alex’s run was punctuated by normal morning sounds – birds, cars, people. They thought they heard the high-pitched whine of air brakes – just once – but they never even caught a glimpse of the garbage truck they knew was roaming their neighborhood today. Even rounding the bend before their house, there was nothing. No rumble, no flash of green turning down the street.
There was, however, another completed Rubik’s cube sitting on top of their garbage hutch. This one was a triangle – Alex believed the website called it a ‘Pyraminx’. They’d been trying to give Morgan a different puzzle every time, but not something so difficult they wouldn’t be able to solve it before they had to go. They were very considerate like that.
Alex’s note stuck out from underneath it.
Dejected, one hand pressed against the growing stitch in their side, Alex slowed to a walk. Approaching the hutch with a combination of trepidation and fear and stupid, stupid hope.
This was the fifth week. Did they really think things would have changed?
Logically they knew that, no, not-rich people probably didn’t work this way. But Morgan was
different
. Alex
knew
it.
Swiping the note out from under the pyramid, they thumbed it open. Ready and braced for another rejection.
It took a minute for the words to sink in.
Blocky marker, once again, spelled out a message that took Alex another full minute to comprehend.
I’m off at 3
When the joy trickled through the disbelief it was all Alex could do to not jump in the air. A grin spread across their face – savage delight with a gleam of something…darker. That same glint Alex always got when they were hunting.
The adrenaline rush was enough for Alex to want to run another five miles, dashing around their neighborhood, screaming with primal victory.
Morgan had said
yes.
They turned and almost took off – feet light and nearly dancing with joy.
No, no – they couldn’t
run
. They had to
plan
.
They turned back towards their gate and headed inside, practically tap dancing up the curved, cobblestone pave-way.
This had to be the best first date ever.
They texted their assistant.
Cancel my day. And get me a reservation.
Morgan wasn’t going to know what hit them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Alex had arranged things so that, at three o’clock precisely, their driver had pulled up outside the waste management facility to pick up Morgan. He had explicit instructions to take Morgan anywhere they asked – including back home to shower and change – before dropping Morgan off at the museum steps.
Now, Alex stood waiting. They cut an imposing figure, lean and severe on the stone steps. Backlit by the waning afternoon sun, silhouetted against the stone columns of the entryway, Alex knew they looked good. They weren’t sure what inside was so fascinating to Morgan, or why the garbage collector had finally agreed to this date, but they’d spent hours today calling in favors, pulling strings, and trying on different outfits.
Dates were…not exactly rare in Alex’s life. But dates with people Alex was actually
interested
in? They hadn’t been on one of those for years. Anticipation riled their nerves, to the point they were glad the city noises drowned out the ticking of their watch. It sounded too much like the clock in their study and Alex resisted the urge to check it as they scanned the cars passing by.
They couldn’t look too interested, too attentive. But they needed to be alert for – there. Swiftly jogging down the steps, Alex met the black SUV as it pulled up to the curb. A charming smile plastered across their face, they reached for the door, but Morgan was already sliding out.
Slightly miffed and already off balance, Alex stumbled ever so slightly as they shut the vehicle door behind their date. Hair as messy as ever, Morgan had clearly taken the time to change into…well at least it wasn’t their sanitation uniform. Well-worn jeans and a threadbare hoodie that was at least a size too big hung off their frame. Up close, Alex could see they were a few inches shorter than them (as suspected) and they were…truly unremarkable.
A five at best, but in a way so nondescript and average they could be taken for granted, passed over as part of the furniture. Alex imagined it came in handy for them, as they steered the sanitation worker towards the entrance with a gentle touch at the small of their back.
At the brush of Alex's fingers at their back Morgan stuttered forward, an extra long half step putting distance between them. Shoulder turned, a hard side eye as Morgan looked down at Alex from the step above.
They were almost equal in height now, Alex realized, quashing the urge to draw the object of their obsession into a kiss. Morgan's clear suspicion meant this wasn't the time or place.
Alex gestured for Morgan to continue, and they begrudgingly trudged inside the museum.
***
Three hours later, Alex's feet hurt, their cheeks were sore from forcing a charming smile, and Morgan was as much of an enigma as before. Possibly more.
The sanitation worker had been tight lipped all afternoon as they strolled about the exhibits. Oh, they were more than willing to exchange pleasantries with Alex, making small talk the entire time. But they hadn't touched on anything of
depth.
Alex had yet to have a glimpse into Morgan's soul, into what made them tick.
That's what they'd been craving since the first time they saw Morgan.
Well, first time was a bit of an exaggeration. The first time they'd seen Morgan outside of their usual garbage route. Alex had known that tousled head of hair, even if it was at the end of a long dark alley, clearly breaking into a bakery.
(Why Alex had been in an alley on the other side of town at three in the morning was another matter entirely.)
Instead, they'd circled through the latest exhibit – a history of locks and lock picking – and were staring at the T-Rex skeleton that hung in the lobby…again.
Morgan had circled back to it time and time again. Frankly, Alex preferred the old fountain that had been here. Yeah, sure, the pile of bones held together with wire was impressive – and absolutely the crown jewel of this museum – but there was something about a good fountain. It seemed more dignified.
Crowded up against the edge of the exhibit, Morgan was staring up at the hanging contraption, hands shoved in their pockets so Alex couldn't even cop a surreptitious hand hold. Damnit. They looked down to the card in front of them.
“What kind of a name is Ohio Jones?” they asked, reading the names of the team who'd recovered the skeleton for the first time.
And why is a sociologist digging up dinosaur bones?
They didn't go so far as to say that last part out loud, but it was…peculiar.
“My best friend's boyfriend's name,” said Morgan. A small smile tugging at their lips for the first time that day.
Alex spluttered. Their best friend’s–maybe
that
explained their obsession with the exhibit? Like, sure it was cool, but other than that, Alex couldn't see any reason why they kept returning to it.
Unless they were planning to steal it…but robbing a bakery was a far cry away from a state-of-the-art museum. Robbing a museum Alex could understand, even if it was just for dinosaur bones.
Robbing a bakery? They city didn't pay
that
poorly, now, did it?
They'd have to ask over dinner. It was approaching time for their reservation anyway, and Alex had had precisely zero luck in getting their thief to open up to them.
A change of scenery was in order.
“Would you like to get some dinner?” Alex asked softly, ever the image of a gentleman.
Morgan’s wary, suspicious side eye gave Alex pause. Did they know something Alex didn’t? Were they not here of their own free will?
Aside from the obvious suspicion, however, the garbage collector was as inscrutable as ever.
“So long as it’s a public space,” Morgan said, after a moment they spent, carefully weighing Alex’s question. “And you’re paying.”
Of course they were paying. It was like Morgan didn’t realize Alex was trying to
romance
them.
Did they need to be any more obvious?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Since it was only a first date, Alex had held back: the restaurant only had one Michelin star instead of three. (There had also been the matter of availability, but that didn’t bear thinking about.)
Morgan, of course, stuck out like a sore thumb in a sweatshirt and jeans. The waitstaff didn’t even blink. They simply ushered Morgan and Alex into the private room in the back that Alex always used.
It didn’t help that Morgan was all sunshine and smiles and borderline flirty with their server, either. Alex had been courting them for weeks and they couldn’t get a smile! Why did the corners of Morgan’s eyes tighten like that when they looked back at Alex? Were they suspicious? Did they not like Alex?
It hurt their soul. They opened their mouth to say something, but Morgan beat them to it.
“So,” they asked, picking up their glass of wine, “what is it you do?” The question was loaded with suspicion, concern – a hint of defiance and an edge of fear.
But it was a
question
. This was
progress!
Alex had to bite their lip to hold back a smile before they answered.
“Oh, nothing much. I just run the family business,” they said, deliberately nonchalant as they unfolded their napkin and placed it in their lap. They didn’t want Morgan to get the wrong idea. The family business wasn’t super big or flashy, but it was lucrative. Very lucrative.
But this wasn’t a
Pretty Woman
scenario. Alex wasn’t saving Morgan. They were fascinated by the. They wanted to get to know them. Money was irrelevant.
The garbage collector raised an eyebrow at them over the rim of their wineglass.
“What’s your last name again?” they asked. “Cuz when you say family business…like that…” they shrugged a shoulder, matching Alex’s deliberate nonchalance. “I dunno if this was a movie, I’d say you were giving mafia vibes.”
Their little chuckle at the end felt forced, and Alex’s eyes narrowed.
“We’re not mafia,” Alex said, leaning back in their chair. “It’s just a small shipping company. Mostly we handle dangerous chemicals and hazardous wastes. It’s not glamorous, but someone has to do it – save the environment, and all that.” They threw that little bit of PR speak on the end with a wave of their hand. People usually liked it, but Morgan’s shoulders stiffened ever so slightly.
“So then what do you need me for?” Morgan asked, pausing as their server came back with the first course.
The food looked delicate, but it smelled divine. Alex knew, from previous experience, that the chef here was a master of hidden depths of flavor and unexpected combinations.
Morgan, in contrast, ignored the dish. Eyes boring holes into Alex’s face as their fingers tightened on their fork. Alex was the alert type, so they noticed. However, they were not the suspicious type, so the gesture didn’t seem as overtly defensive as it truly was.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked, tucking in to the first few delectable bites. They didn’t
need
Morgan for anything. They
wanted
them. Big difference. And a very important one.
“I thought you were going to propose a…partnership,” Morgan said, carefully enough that Aex paused, their last forkful halfway to their mouth.
Morgan’s course sat on their plate, untouched. And while they’d removed their napkin, as was customary, their cutlery lay undisturbed. As though Morgan had no intention of eating.
A frisson of apprehension shivered through Alex.
“Yes, it’s called dating,” their flippant reply was a blatant attempt to lighten the mood. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?” They flashed a charming half-smile that had swayed many a city official, reluctant client, or unruly vendor.
Morgan’s face darkened in response, like they thought Alex was joking. Shaking their unruly mop of hair, they pushed back from the table. “I’m done,” they said, throwing their napkin down as they stood to leave.
“No! Morgan – don’t go!” If they hadn’t been in a private room, Alex’s shout alone would have been enough to have the entire restaurant looking at them.
“I mean – why are you leaving? Did I do something wrong?” Alex’s desperation filled the air between them, growing bigger and bigger in the silence.
The thief watched them, dark eyes inscrutable before they chuckled. Low and dark, it was an
I know what you’re doing
chuckle, not an
Alex, you’re so cute
chuckle and Alex’s heart sank at the unimpressed timbre of the sound.
“I’m not going to be your next victim,” Morgan said, turning to leave.
Next victim?!
HOW DID THEY KNOW.
Alex coughed out a laugh at Morgan’s back – a very forced and obviously fake laugh.
“Victim? What are you even talking about?” they asked, finally rising, just in case they needed to chase after Morgan.
The thief spun around, mid-step, and started counting on their fingers. “Two bloody suits, on different weeks. A shocking amount of rope – people really don’t keep that much rope. Like only the climbing gyms even
carry
that much rope, let alone throw it out.Two? – No, three suspiciously stained and mangled tarps. And your household, which is only you and a few employees, goes through a
suspicious
amount of hydrogen peroxide.
“I know who you are, Alex. And I’m not gonna be your next victim.” The thief took another step back, putting as much distance between themself and Alex as possible.
Alex coughed again, blood running cold. A sanitation worker, of all people, had figured it out?
From their garbage?!
If Alex hadn’t suddenly been concerned for their…reputation, they might have lost their heart to Morgan then and here.
“Morgan, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex said again, desperately trying to cling to some semblance of their crumbling composure. They weren’t especially gifted at lying, but they had to try.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Like I’m gonna believe the Cocktail Slayer.”
An exasperated sigh escaped Alex, completely of its own volition. Leave
one
cocktail glass at a crime scene beside your signature “S” – completely by accident! – and the media never let you live it down.
“Hypothetically,” Alex raised a hand, placating the flighty thief. “If I really were a serial killer, and I’m not saying that I am! But hypothetically, if I was…why would you agree to have dinner with me?”
Even Alex had enough sense to know that normal people didn’t agree to dates with people they knew were serial killers. (They already knew Morgan wasn’t normal, though, which was why they were holding out hope for a relationship.)
“I’m a
garbage collector
,” Morgan said. Emphasis on ‘garbage’. And ‘collector.’ I figured you wanted an inside person to help you dump bodies, but no! No, you own a hazardous waste disposal company.” Morgan tossed their hands in the air, agitated. Pacing back and forth.
Gosh they were cute when they were upset.
“Besides, you said you were gonna take me to the museum and I wanted to cas–see the dinosaur.”
They were even cuter when they cut themselves off, scared of revealing their own crime identity.
Alex softened into a warm smile, rounding the table and coming to stand close to the object of their ever-growing affections. (Not too close though. Alex had spent years studying the intricacies of personal space and social rules. Morgan wasn’t ready for them to get close…not quite yet, at least.)
“Oh Morgan,” they said, voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay. I know you’re a thief. I saw you. In that alley, like four months ago. Although why you were stealing from a
bakery
of all things I have no idea.”
Morgan pointed at Alex, finger practically brushing the taller serial killer’s chest. “That starter is 400 years–why am I telling you this?” They pulled back again and Alex made no effort to conceal a pout.
Raking a hand through their hair, Morgan sighed. “Forget this, I’m calling Diego,” they said, pulling out their phone.
“Your sister is Diego Dodgers?” Alex asked, like they didn’t know. (Of course they already knew. They’d run a full background check on Morgan and determined dating them was worth the risk, even with their family. “The famous homicide detective who’s on the–”
“Cocktail Slayer case, yep. Everyone in my family’re cops.” Morgan looked up from their phone screen, thumb hovering like they were debating whether or not to hit send on a message.
“Except for you,” Alex said, more intrigued than ever. “Do they know they’ve got a thief in their midst? More to the point – does Chad know you’re the high-end thief he’s been chasing for years?”
“...Excuse me?”
“Did you think I didn’t know? Morgan, I know everything about you!” Alex stepped forward once again. Morgan was practically backed against the wall at this point. If Alex weren’t so afraid of their thief running away, they’d almost consider this sexy.
“Well, everything I could find in a background check, that is. All of these salutation jobs and temporary cleaning staff gigs – it’s brilliant. You’ve stolen from so many of my contemporaries. They tremble in fear at your name. It’s beautiful.” And Alex did, truly, find it beautiful.
Morgan had been responsible for a string of thefts over the years – most of them big, important targets who’d paid dearly to keep the news of being robbed from reaching the press. Everytime another family in Alex’s social circle had been robbed – or their companies, at least, had been robbed – it made it’s way through the gossip rounds. Millionaires and even a few billionaires complaining about their super-ultra-secure security systems not working, or how much of a hassle it was to deal with insurance.
It was never the money with these people. The thefts truly were an annoyance. But god, did Alex love seeing them annoyed.
They hated most of their contemporaries. And knowing that their thief – this completely plain, average looking person with a mop of messy hair – was the reason why?
Oh, that made joy sing inside Alex’s soul.
“You…know I’m a thief? And you…
like it
?” Morgan’s suspicion was, if possible, even more obvious than before.
“Mmhmm,” Alex nodded, eyes bright. They leaned in, just a little, testing that boundary to see if they could get closer.
“I still don’t know why you stole that sourdough starter, though,” they admitted, almost close enough to lean in and kiss Morgan now.
“I made a bet with Barnaby,” Morgan muttered. “Let me guess, you know about him too?”
“Mmhmm,” Alex nodded again. In fact, it had been Morgan’s sporadic appearances in Barnaby’s Sudoku videos that had finally allowed Alex to find their name – and the rest of their info.
“You know, admitting to stalking me online is not reassuring,” they said, pulling back the slightest amount.
Alex pulled back as well, giving their thief space. “In case I haven’t been clear, I don’t want to kill you, I want to date you,” they said for the billionth time that evening. Why was that so hard for Morgan to understand?
“Why?”
Alex sighed and rolled their eyes. Nothing in the background check had warned them that Morgan was this stubborn.
“Because you’re fascinating! And not boring. Do you have any idea how boring shipping is? How boring my life is? You’re the first exciting thing to happen since my last murder!”
“I don’t
believe
you,” Morgan said after a moment. They pushed away from the wall, coming so close Alex could smell their shampoo.
“I’m leaving,” they said as they pushed past Alex, heading for the door.
Alex lunged forward, grabbing the sleeve of Morgan’s sweatshirt near their wrist. “At least let my driver take you home,” they begged, their one shot at future happiness slipping away.
“And give you my address? No way.” Morgan ripped their sleeve out of Alex’s grasp and slipped out into the main area of the restaurant. Leaving Alex alone, waiting for the next course.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The clock was ticking again.
A week had passed since Morgan had left Alex in the museum. A full week with no word from the thief-slash-garbage collector-slash-the love of Alex’s life.
So the serial killer was back to waiting in their cavernous office, clock ticking away an uncertain amount of minutes before the garbage truck would pull up again.
When the truck finally arrived, Alex watched a new head of hair – this one longer and pulled back into a ponytail – step down to go through their cans.
This was wrong, all wrong. It was supposed to be Morgan!
They fisted their hands on top of the solid wood of their desk. Powerless. No matter how wrong it was, there was nothing they could do to change it now.
This new worker either didn’t notice, or she deliberately ignored the beautiful, intricately carved Japanese puzzle box that sat on top of the neatly tied garbage bag. Unlike Morgan, she grabbed the whole can and hoisted it, emptying its contents into the back of the truck.
Alex wasn’t sure if they heard or felt the crunch as the puzzle box was, inevitably, crushed. The garbage truck rolled away.
Slumping back in their office chair, Alex stared at the ceiling. A silent plea for oblivion to take them.
Even their apology had failed.
Inside the puzzle box, Alex had hidden the plans to the museum. And now they were gone. Just splinters and scraps and dust at the bottom of a dumpster.
Could this day get any worse?
—---------------------------
Alex’s manor (because that’s what it truly was: a manor. Not a mansion; not something gaudy and low taste. But something old and grand and elegant…in a threatening way) screamed of power. Marble floors and gold finishings. Rooms furnished with hand-carved wood and brocade and silk. Modern and austere, yet somehow still invested in preserving a sense of old-world antiquity and all that it conveyed.
Most days, it suited Alex supremely well.
Days like today, however…
They’d spent the morning moping, calling off work yet again. (Owning the company had
some
perks after all.) They sloshed around the house, dramatically, their silk robe and wine glass clear ‘stay away’ signs for the staff.
Twilight trickled in through the windows, lengthening the shadows in the halls to match the ones Alex’s eyes. Slumped over the settee in the drawing room, Alex delicately sipped at a bottle of white wine. They wanted to be sad and drunk, not hung over the next day. Red reminded them too much of their date with Morgan…and of blood, but the fact that they didn’t have another victim lined up wasn’t important right now. They could go on a killing spree once they were out of the crying phase of having their heart crushed.
Even murder had lost its appeal. That’s how you knew it was–
“What the hell?”
The much-longed-for voice penetrated Alex’s awareness more than the actual words. They bolted upright, wine sloshing onto the silk. “Shit,” they hissed, trying to brush off their robe before it stained. “Mother fucker.”
In a flurry of movement that seemed to happen all at once, Alex stood, straightened their robe, deposited the wine glass on a side table and spun to face the drawing room’s other entrance.
Morgan stood in the other arched entrance, clothed all in black. All of their delightfully messy hair was tucked away underneath a black beanie. Were they–had Morgan come to
rob
Alex? After
breaking their heart?!
“What are you doing here?” Alex asked, voice far harsher than planned. They jolted to a stop after an aborted half-step towards Morgan, crossing their arms over their rumpled robe and pulling them self up straight. Let their height intimidate the would-be thief.
Resentment simmered in Alex’s eyes, growing brighter as they crushed down on the surprised bewilderment and aching flicker of hope.
“Are you okay?” Morgan asked, completely ignoring the serial killer trying to intimidate them. “Because this” – they waved a hand, gesturing up and down at all of Alex – “doesn’t look like you’re okay.”
Alex ignored the thief, silk robe swirling dramatically as they crossed instead to the sideboard. Filling up another glass of wine, they held up a finger, gesturing at the thief to wait as they downed the glass in a single draught.
Alcohol chased away the shock and tempered Alex’s anger under a hazy veil of grape-induced calm. Dry, crisp citrus lingered on the back of Alex’s tongue, reinforcing that they were, in fact, very much awake. And Morgan was very much in front of them.
“How did you get in here?” they asked, setting their now empty glass down with a clink.
“Alex, I’ve been casing your neighborhood on my garbage route for months,” Morgan said, wandering over to look at the embroidery on the curtains. Black-tipped fingers, covered in gloves, brushed against the delicate, golden fabric.
“I had like, six routes in, but your guy left the backdoor open, so…” Morgan looked over at Alex with a shrug as they trailed off.
Alex gaped.
They were so firing their PA after this.
That or giving them a raise.
They weren’t sure yet. The wine hadn’t told them which was a better idea.
“No, I know that,” they said. At least, they’d figured as much. Being a garbage collector was a pretext to case a neighborhood. Especially one as upscale as Alex’s. “What are you doing
here
?” their voice kept rising with indignation.
Despite Alex’s obvious anger – and despite the fact that Morgan definitively knew that Alex was, in fact, a serial killer – Morgan was nonchalant when they pulled something out of their pocket.
“I found these in your trash today. And it just doesn’t make sense so I thought I’d ask you.”
The small, crumpled square of paper had clearly been smoothed out and refolded a few times. Morgan held it between two fingers, waving it like Alex should recognize what it was.
They didn’t.
Alex glowered at the thief. “Am I supposed to know what that is?” they asked, acid in their voice and a craving for more wine rising to the back of their mouth. Their hand twitched as they resisted the urge to reach for the bottle again.
“Yeah,” Morgan said, taking a few steps toward Alex (although carefully keeping a few pieces of furniture between them. “It’s like, the most romantic gift anyone’s ever gotten me.”
“Well, goody for you.” Alex sneered. “Someone’s got a secret admirer.” They crossed their arms again in a huff. Why was Morgan showing them gifts from
other
admirers? Was Morgan
trying
to get Alex to snap? Did they
want
a serial killer going after their admirer? Because Alex absolutely would.
Unimpressed did not even
begin
to cover Morgan’s expression. Steely and intimidating, like they were on the verge of committing a heinous act of violence.
Alex shifted uncomfortably for…reasons. Reasons that had nothing to do with the flush of…excitement rising up their neck.
With a sigh, Morgan broke their stare, pinching the bridge of their nose once again. Apparently, it was a thing they did when they were stressed. Steeped in wine, Alex couldn’t resist the rosy flush of joy at realizing that they now knew one of Morgan’s tells.
It was so
cute
.
“You’re drunk,” Morgan said, “so I’m going to forgive you for not realizing that I went through your trash–” these are the museum plans you gave me.”
“Most people would consider that a violation of their privacy,” Aex said, faking indignation. Morgan going through their trash was…oddly reassuring. It was their status quo. Their normal. Their meet-cute.
Morgan pawing through Alex’s garbage like a raccoon was an integral part of their love story (one Alex would be sure to pass on to their future nieces and nephews) and to know that Morgan was
still
doing it? Even after leaving the sanitation department?
They pressed a hand against their heart, going for dramatic, but really it was to hold back the urge to sweep Morgan into their arms.
Morgan sighed. “Most people also aren’t serial killers,” they said with a pointed look.
“But do not-serial killers buy you expensive puzzle boxes from Japan with museum schematics inside them?” Alex batted their eyelashes at Morgan, slowly creeping closer. All that remained between them and their thief was a small side table.
“Yeah, Stacey did a number on that box. It was in splinters by the time I found it.” Morgan rocked back on their heels, clearly putting some distance between themself and Alex. “Which is an absolute shame, cuz the craftsmanship on those things is amazing.”
“Yeah, craftsmanship. Amazing,” Alex murmured, staring at Morgan’s lips. Like, they weren’t wrong. Alex had paid a tidy sum to have the hand carved box flown in from Tokyo. But how would the thief react now if Alex just leaned in and –
“Anyway, you weren’t supposed to be here, according to your calendar, so I figured I’d break in and see what other secrets you’re hiding but then I found…this.” Morgan waved a hand again, as though tipsy and disheveled Alex was somehow less desirable than sober serial killer Alex.
“I mean, I did have a gala tonight, but that was before someone broke my heart.”
Morgan threw up their hands at Alex’s very pointed, mournful look. ‘Alex, it was
half
a date! You can’t be in love with me–”
“Of course I’m in love with you! You’re
fascinating!
” Alex did their best not to yell, but the force of their statement had Morgan blinking and pulling away.
Reaching out, Alex clasped Morgan’s hands with theirs, holding them in the air over the table, like some kind of sacred pact between them was being formed.
“Morgan,” Alex made a conscious effort to lower their voice. They were successful at reducing the volume, but not the intensity. “Do you know how
boring
it is, being rich? It’s horrible. All the parties and the travel and ugh. None of it means anything and none of it’s exciting. Sitting there, listening to those morons drone on and on and on–”
“Sounds rough.” Alex ignored their flat sarcasm. (Although under any other circumstances they’d probably be chuckling at it.)
“You have no idea how much I struggle every day not to stab people with their own forks,” they said, staring deep into Morgan’s eyes. “In the eyeball,” they added. Probably unnecessarily.
“Ew.” Morgan flinched away but Alex refused to let go.
“And then I go back to work and honestly, shipping hazardous waste is just as boring. There’s all these safety rules and regulations and nothing exciting ever happens. Unless something breaks and then it’s a PR crisis.” Alex lifted one hand to make air quotes around ‘PR crisis’. “So I can’t fuck around with
that
, which leaves me with no other choice than to kill people.”
Morgan blinked at them, like they were keeping up, but just barely. “So you kill people…because you’re bored?” they asked, slowly and carefully. Like they were still processing Alex’s statements.
Alex nodded, earnestly, a curl of usually-perfectly-coiffed-but-now-mussed-with-grief hair falling in their face. “And then I saw you breaking into a bakery, and it was so
ridiculous
–”
“Hey!”
Alex squeezed Morgan’s hands tighter. A reassuring, loving squeeze.
“It was the first interesting thing to happen in my life in months and I knew – I just
knew
. You were the one for me.”
Morgan stared at the serial killer for a minute, face unreadable. A perfect poker mask that showed nothing – not a hint of excitement, not a flicker of fear. Nothing. Until Morgan finally licked their lips and said “You know my mom’s running for Commissioner, right?”
Alex felt the room in the air shift. The battle had been one. “That just makes it more interesting!” They let go of Morgan’s hands, moving around the table and the winged back, brocade armchair in their way.
They pulled Morgan into their arms, and the thief went. Not without some hesitation and reserve, but not without intrigue, either. Alex cupped a hand along their cheek. “Please? Please go out with me? Let me date you. Woo you. I’ll do it properly and everything.”
Morgan sighed and rolled their eyes. “I can’t believe I’m dating Dexter,” they said, the slightest of smiles barely curving the corner of their lips.
Alex snorted. “Please. Dexter has morals. I kill because it’s
fun
, darling,” they said, leaning in until their breath whispered against Morgan’s skin.
Morgan rocked forward, weight in their toes, rising up those scant few inches until their lips were scarcely a breath apart. “Just so you know, if you kill me, I do have insurance,” Morgan said. All seduction gone. Alex blinked, pulling back as the thief continued.
“There is a safety deposit box, at an undisclosed bank, under an alias, with all my evidence against you, and I’ve willed the key to Diego. If I disappear, under
any
circumstances…”
Morgan let the threat hang in the air and goosebumps broke out on Alex’s skin.
“God you’re amazing” they said, before finally – finally! – diving in for a kiss.
Despite the threats and the wry sarcasm, and the slight resistance that still lived in Morgan’s bones, the thief kissed them back.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Six months later
Screams echoed throughout the warehouse, bouncing back and amplifying the sound.
Oh, how Alex loved the sound of screams.
Blood dripped from the tip of their knife. They didn’t even know this person’s name – wouldn’t give them even that small dignity – and now they were carving them into tiny, little pieces. Fluorescent lights reflected in the blood splatter, carefully constrained to a tarped off area.
Just because the company owned this abandoned warehouse didn’t mean Alex could get sloppy. Plus, Morgan hated it when Alex splattered gore on the T-rex skeleton. (That had been their first real fight as a couple. “
I worked hard to steal that exhibit, Alex!” “Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll have it cleaned!” “No, you’ll clean it yourself, otherwise we risk giving away our safehouse.” “Yes, because a stolen dinosaur exhibit hanging in the warehouse
wouldn't
give us away.”
)
Alex’s victim whimpered, sagging in their bonds.
Hope was draining from their soul, evident as every line of their body drooped. Tremors of pain shook their limbs. This was the part Alex liked most. The moments when they broke, right before–
“Alex! Can you keep it down please? I can’t hear the tumblers over the screaming,” Morgan yelled, sticking their head out from the back office.
Crime dates, as Alex had taken to calling their shared practice sessions, were fast becoming their favorites. Alex killed or stalked people while Morgan practiced their crime skills.
It was so nice having a significant other who wasn’t afraid of them. Or their hobbies. Even with the new Commissioner (their soon-to-be mother-in-law, if Alex had their way) cracking down on crime, Alex wasn’t concerned. If the shipping business came under suspicion, they could always use Morgan’s garbage disposal skills and contacts.
“But what if there’s screaming during the heist?” Alex asked. They didn’t have to put on a deliberate air of innocence – that came naturally, from slaughtering people.
Morgan pinched the bridge of their nose. “If people are screaming while I’m trying to break into the credit union’s safe, I’m doing it wrong.”
“But what if–” Alex’s protestations were cut short.
“If you don’t keep it down I’m not letting you come.” Morgan pointed a finger at Alex before disappearing back into the office.
Alex sighed. But the screaming was the best part!
Oh well. They could be quiet. Even if it sucked.
This next crime date was
special
and Alex desperately wanted to go. They were pulling off a heist together, for the first time. They were robbing a credit union – as a couple!
And Morgan had assured Alex that holding the flashlight was an absolutely essential job.