Chapter Text
It had cooled off considerably over night, the sky now covered by a thick grey blanket of dense clouds, rain falling relentlessly. Quickly Aloy ducked into the small French bakery, appropriately named ‘Jacque's’, down the street from the bookshop, got three croissants as well as three pain au chocolat, and jogged to the covert side entrance leading to Dekka and Hekarro’s residence above the book store. She rang the bell and pushed hard at the heavy oaken door when the buzzer sounded, letting her in.
Aloy climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor, following the delicious smells of fresh coffee, bacon, and eggs.
“Hi!” Dekka called from the top of the stairs, spreading her arms wide when Aloy took the last step, and folded her into a motherly embrace.
“Hey…” Aloy said softly, closing her eyes, as she returned the hug one-armed. “It smells so good…”
“Hekarro’s been busy in the kitchen,” Dekka smiled. “He’s excited for you to know.”
“You guys really have me worried,” Aloy admitted.
“Nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“Hm.”
“Come on, let’s have breakfast,” Dekka said, and pulled Aloy into the cozy boho meets industrial style apartment.
Aloy loved being here, where their styles clashed, yet worked so beautifully, just like they did in real life. Dekka, the free-spirited, soft spoken, occasionally weed smoking femme fatal, versus Hekarro, the deep-voiced, serious, always having to do it the right way hunk of a man that adored being wrapped around Dekka’s fingers.
She appreciated his clean-cut style, which showed in the kitchen and his office. Charcoal-colored cabinets, exposed brick walls, black wired pendant lights that looked like they had been taken directly from the ceiling of an early 20th century factory.
But more than the industrial design elements, Aloy loved Dekka’s approach, and how she had softened the blows of the colliding styles with hanging orchids, anthuriums, monsteras, ferns and tall growing indoor trees. Mountains of pillows of different designs in various hues of turquoise and greens, blues, reds, and orange were strewn and decorated throughout. There were rugs warming the hard wood floors, plush sofas, and chairs, and more books!
And old record player from the 70s stood proudly on its designated pedestal, a wall of records behind it openly displaying their great love for music.
The whole place had a faint air of patchouli about it, yet Hekarro fought strongly to keep the small bit of male integrity alive, even if it was just in form of iron-framed book and record cases with warm wooden shelving.
Their living room always reminded Aloy of her childhood home and her dad teaching her to be extra careful when setting down the diamond-tipped needle onto the record so as not to scratch it. Always put down the cover, honey. We don’t want dusty music, do we?
Ah, the grievous ache of nostalgia, Aloy thought as Dekka took the paper-bagged French goodies from her and danced into the kitchen to Bronski Beat’s Smalltown Boy. Aloy remembered this song well. Her mother had loved it.
Dekka dropped the bag onto the counter beside Hekarro, who turned and grinned, as his wife took Aloy’s hands and made her dance with her. Immediately Hekarro picked up the remote, turned up the music, and moved to the beat while stirring the scrambled eggs.
Just like two nights ago, she closed her eyes, let the awkwardness pass, let the music take her, let the memories come and go, let herself be filled with love for these two most wonderfully unregulated, footloose people.
“I love you guys so much,” she gasped between laughs, and when Hekarro opened his arms wide and received her in a hug that resembled her father’s achingly, Aloy returned it with such relief and held it for a long time.
“Come on,” he said, when she gently released him. “Breakfast’s ready.”
Hekarro carried the plates loaded with bacon, eggs, and berries over to their overly large, rustic dining table, where Aloy and Dekka were about to be seated across from each other. Dekka poured steaming coffee from their French press, then offered Aloy freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Alright, so. Spill!” Aloy said, growing impatient. “I want to know what’s going on here.”
Dekka and Hekarro exchanged a quick look, which Aloy took as to who was going to go first.
“Well,” Dekka began. “We bought the bookshop almost ten years ago, with the money we made from working private military contracts overseas, after we retired from active duty.”
“You are both ex-military?” Aloy asked incredulously.
“We are,” Hekarro nodded, bringing the coffee mug to his lips, and taking a careful sip. “Dekka retired Major, while myself, I am a retired Colonel.”
Aloy gaped. “But I thought… why did you never say?”
Hekarro shrugged. “Things … happened and we chose to forget about the past, and instead focus on the now. It helped us heal old wounds, so we elected to simply become book shop owners. Nothing more. Live a simple life, away from the struggles of war.”
Aloy nodded.
“After we retired,” Dekka said, reaching for a pain au chocolat from the bread basket Hekarro had put them in, “we did a few years in the private sector, made sh*tloads of money and bought this shop, which was always our goal to begin with. We both love to read, as you know, and we’ve been happy and content ever since. We never used to be able to stay in one place for this long.”
“I can imagine…” Aloy said flabbergasted.
“We spend a lot of time in California, Camp Pendelton; and we loved it there, but it’s crazy expensive, even with the money we made, our dream would’ve been doomed, and then… well. We chose to settle here for now.” Hekarro pushed a piece of bacon into his mouth. “But we’re open to pack up and leave if a property comes available out West,” he said. “I miss it. We miss it. The ocean, the South West. It’s home.”
Aloy nodded, and Dekka and Hekarro told her about their careers, about their deployments, about the time after they had retired. Meanwhile they enjoyed a relaxed breakfast in which Aloy’s baked goods were perfectly complimenting Beta’s jams and fruit butters.
Eventually, when the coffee had cooled and little orange juice was left, Aloy couldn’t hold back the question that had been nagging her all along.
“So… where do Kotallo and Fashav fit in?”
“Ah,” Hekarro said. “Yes. That’s where the dots connect…”
Dekka sighed. “Fashav and Hekarro had served together for a little while, when Kotallo joined them. Military Police. They were a good team. A really good team. Well respected and well liked, but feared at the same time. They’re still very close. And Hekarro sometimes consults on cases, like on Friday.”
“What do they do? Are they still active?”
“No,” Hekarro explained. “They’re working for the DOD now. But, I think it’s probably best they tell you themselves, if they choose to. There’s things I don’t want to disclose without them knowing. Which is also why we never mentioned Kotallo and Fashav. They are a big part of our lives, but they also work covertly most of the time now. If they were to be found out, it’d be disastrous.”
“Of course,” Aloy replied. She reached for a croissant, carefully pulled it apart, then smeared Beta’s strawberry jam on the small piece in her hand and stuffed it in her mouth. “Is he…” she began when she was done chewing, and thought she detected Dekka’s grin widen from the corner of her eye, but dared not to look. Gosh, this was embarrassing. “Is he married?”
Dekka was about to answer, but Hekarro cut her off. “Who?!”
“He’s not,” Dekka said.
“Who??”
“Kotallo,” Aloy and Dekka said in unison.
“Kotallo?”
“Yes, Kotallo, my love,” Dekka said and put her hand on Hekarro’s forearm.
“You… you like him?!” Hekarro asked in disbelief.
Aloy blushed deeply and to her great shame, she stumbled over her words. “I… w-well… I… he… he’s… he was very nice.”
Hekarro exchanged a look with Dekka. “Did you know about this?”
“He is nice!” Dekka defended Aloy’s statement. “Leave her alone.”
“I am! I’m not mad, darling. Just – surprised is all.”
Aloy took a deep breath. Spit it out, girl. Get it over with. “Alright. Look.” She turned to face Hekarro fully, who sat kitty cornered from her at the head of the table. “I like him. I like him a lot. And I don’t want to wait until it’s 73° out there to find out everything there is to know about him.”
“Oh.” Hekarro said, dumbfounded. “73°?”
“Yeah. 73. We agreed when it’s 73 we meet up for a drink –“
“Why at 73?” Dekka asked.
Aloy’s eyebrows rose all the way up her forehead. “Because it’s the perfect temperature.”
“Ah.” Hekarro said, scrunching up his eyebrows and pulling a disbelieving face. “And he agreed to that?!”
“It was his idea!”
“Oh. Really?”
“Yeah, really!”
“Okay…” Hekarro looked back to his wife. “How’s he going to call her if he doesn’t have her number?”
Dekka shrugged. “No clue.”
Aloy sighed, then buried her face in her hands and fake cried. “What am I going to do?!”
“Do you want me to call him?!” Hekarro asked dumbly.
“WHAT? NO!” Aloy shrieked.
“Well…” Hekarro said. “I don’t know how to help you then.”
There was a moment’s pause, in which Aloy contemplated how much to share and if it was going to help her situation. But she trusted, and valued, her friends opinion.
“I have to tell you something…”
Another look passed between Dekka and Hekarro.
Aloy took a deep breath. “On Friday night I went to see Drakka’s band play, remember?!”
Dekka nodded, Hekarro only stared.
“Anyway. I met Kotallo there.”
“Oh.” Hekarro said.
“Let her explain,” Dekka chuckled.
“I am!”
Aloy grinned. “Uhm. Yeah… I… I… I kissed him.”
Hekarro gasped loudly and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Yes!” Dekka beamed, applauding this unforeseen yet apparently highly welcome turn of events. “I knew it! I knew it…”
“Yeah, well – he left.” Aloy said quietly, dropping her gaze to the plate, where most of her croissant lay uneaten. “Didn’t turn back. Didn’t say good-bye. Nothing. Nada. Just up and left.”
Hekarro still had his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
Dekka seemed shocked as well, then after a second she recovered and whispered, “Did he return the kiss?”
“Sort of? It was a really short kiss. I kind of blindsided him I think… and then we were interrupted. Alva arrived and pulled me into a hug and when I turned back – he was gone.”
Hekarro pulled his lips into a thin line and gave Dekka a knowing look.
“You’re going to have to talk to him,” he said matter-of-factly, then abruptly rose and went into the kitchen. He returned immediately with his phone in hand, scrolling. “I’ll send you his info. Call him.”
“But it’s not 73,” Aloy whined. Her phone beeped, announcing a new message.
“f*ck 73!” Hekarro roared, his cheeks flaring up.
“He left!”
“Of course he did!”
This time Aloy gasped. “What do you mean?”
Hekarro hesitated, recovered, then, as if trying to come up with something on a whim, said, “Have you seen yourself?”
“Huh??”
“Aloy,” Hekarro tried calmly, closing his eyes as his patience seemed to run low. “You are a gorgeous woman, young, successful, full of life.”
“So?”
Dekka once again put her hand on Hekarro’s arm, but looked at Aloy. “Call him. That’s all we’re going to say.”
Frustrated that there seemed to be more issues she wasn’t aware of, Aloy rolled her eyes and drew a sigh from deep within. She rubbed her eyes, then took the croissant and bit off a piece. “Fine,” she chewed.
A long pause ensued, in which they all simply stared into nothing.
“You said this is where the dots connect,” Aloy brooded. “What did you mean by that?”
It took Hekarro a moment to remember, “Right… I did say that, didn’t I?” He slowly reached for another strawberry, popped it in his mouth, ate, swallowed, then said, “The reason we came here, is because of Kotallo and Fashav. This is their station.”
“These three can’t be separated,” Dekka mumbled. “Many have tried.”
Aloy nodded. “Gotcha.”
“And here you are as well,” Hekarro said, and winked at her. “Coincidence? Fate, perhaps?”
