I know I shouldn’t be flirting with her on comms. Everyone can hear me, and she likes to keep it private. Sonar, Punch-Up, Invisigal, Prisim, Coupe, Golem, Flambae- fucking Robert, too. She doesn’t like to bring our relationship into the workplace, doesn’t like to show it off. I must never scratch, burn, bite, or leave any mark on her in any way. I can’t imagine doing anything like that- my teeth and claws are far too sharp.

“Check in, Gibb.” She says, and her voice comes through the headset, in order to keep comms clear in case of emergency, we do hourly check-ins. “Yeah, yeah, sweets. Still alive, still jackshit going on.” I reply into my earpiece, and I can visualize the roll of her eyes. “It’s Hernandez or Dispatch to you, Gibb.” She responds, and I can hear her tapping her nails on her coffee mug. I open my mouth to start an argument, just for the sake of hearing her voice, but then she moves on.

“Invisigal, check-in.” She murmurs into her headset, and I hear the soft click of her nails on the plastic keys on her keyboard, likely logging the minimal information I’ve given her. Visi shares her observations and status updates, then she moves through the list. When she’s finished going through the list, I speak again. “Sweetcheeks, check-in.” I murmur, and I hear snickering from Visi and Sonar. She doesn’t reply right away, assuming I’m kidding. “I’m waiting!” I continue.

“Excuse me, Gibb?” She asks, and I'm not sure if that’s pertaining to the dumbass nickname I’ve given her, or the fact that I’m questioning her authority. “I don’t have to tell you shit, Gibb, I am your superior. Get back to work.” She snaps, and I hear a few ohs from my teammates. I imagine this will land me on the couch. Control and respect are very important to her, and she’s got a short fuse.

I almost feel bad for Robert, sitting next to her all day. Then, I remember he’s got not one but two women gunning for a chance to suck him off, while I have one and she’s a bossy pillow princess. I don’t mean that she’s not enough- she’s more than enough- I just haven’t had a monogamous relationship in a while. I mean, I’m literally a demon, but I’d rather have just her than a hundred fair-weather fucks.

She’d yell at me all the way to the hospital, but if I got hurt she’d be with me the whole time. She’s loyal like that, and it means a lot. I decide that if I don’t want to have a sore back and no homemade lunch or breakfast tomorrow, I should apologize. “Hey, Hernandez, I’m sorry.” I wouldn’t apologize to anyone else, but I think I’m falling in what she- and other humans- call love.

Humans and demons have different concepts of such things, but I will call it whatever it pleases her to hear. I wonder if she would enjoy the notion of my feelings, or if she would tell me that it will pass. I suspect it would be the second one. As long as I am not killed, I cannot die of sickness or natural causes. I am immortal, she is not. That creates a divide, knowing I will outlive her regardless- if we even make it that long.

“Thank you for your apology,” she says. Her voice is softer now, and I smile to myself. It’s freezing out here- not even the thick leather jacket I’m wearing or my natural heat as a being from the hells protect me from this. I duck into a coffee shop- someplace called a Starbucks. She has spoken of them before, she enjoys their drinks. “I’m at a coffee shop. You want anything?” I ask, voice quiet as I attempt a non-threatening smile. “No, don’t spend your money on me.” I hear her say, and I cock my head in confusion, although she cannot see me.