Chapter 60: "Message Mistunderstood?"

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First draft: October 2, 2021

Salma stood by her car with a smile stretched on her lips. She gingerly unstuck the card. It was hand drawn but the perfection of the art on it told her it was professionally done.

"Zayn," she muttered with a laugh, recognizing his trademark style.

Still smiling, she held the lilies to her chest to free her hands so she could read the card. She had never liked flowers as gifts. She preferred them on plants, but admittedly, the sweet scent of the lilies was intoxicating and had her heart fluttering with warmth, touched by the gesture.

Bee,

Would you bee so sweet to go out with me?

Z

(I swear I'm not the poetic type. The whole thing just rhymed on its own).

Salma chuckled reading the note in the parenthesis. She opened the card to see two boxes drawn on them. One had the option 'I'd bee sweet as honey, so yes!' and the other 'Buzz off!".

"Let's see what you do when I tell you to 'Buzz off." Salma giggle to herself, then put the card in her bag, muttering. "So cute."

Clutching the lilies to her heart, Salma inhaled its sweet scent deeply before she started walking back to her department. The scent was intoxicating.

Was he trying to hypnotize her? Salma thought, smelling the flowers again.

High on the sweet fragrance of the lilies, Salma entered the entomology lab with a big, goofy smile on her face. She walked over to her work-station and dropped her bag. Jason poked his head from around the cupboards upon hearing her stool scarping against the floor as she pulled it. His features lit up.

"Well, well, look who decided to show up?!"

Salma chuckled, carefully rearranging the lilies to avoid crushing any of them accidentally.

"Do you live here?" Salma asked. "How are you always in the lab?"

"Mrs. Coles doesn't mind a helping hand and I don't mind sticking around here," Jason replied, walking over to her with a long list of specimen's in hand. He looked tired, given the bags under his eyes. "Hi. How're you doing?"

"I'm good Alhumdulillah. How're you?"

Jason frowned at the flowers as he put the list on the counter and pulled a stool for himself.

"Flowers?" he asked, stretching his arms in exhaustion.

"Yeah." Salma grinned, stroking the delicate petals before inhaling deeply into the bunch again. "They're from Zayn."

"Uh huh?" Jason quickly pressed his lips together to bite back a smile.

"I think they're drugged or something. The fragrance is addictive."

Jason laughed.

"So things have settled between y'all?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah, he asked me out on a date," Salma replied, her nose buried deep in the flowers.

Jason raised his eyebrows at her. While she was sniffing the flowers, like a spaced-out fool, Jason took a seat across from her, resting his face in his palm to watch her bury her nose in the bunch.

"And did you say yes?" he asked, looking amused.

"I might." Salma shrugged.

"Right." Jason held back a chuckle. "Hey, do you smell that?"

"Yeah. So refreshing, right?!"

Jason leaned in towards her.

"I know! It smells like someone falling for Zayn!" Jason whispered secretively.

Salma stuck her nose out of the drugged petals, slapping herself back to reality. Jason quickly pulled away, bursting into silent fits of laughter. Salma's features hardened.

"Hm, getting too cosy, are we?" she raised a brow.

"You are, and I think it's a good – wait!" Jason picked on her suddenly dead-panned expressions. "You're not talking about you and Zayn, are you?"

"No." Salma said simply, allowing the message to dawn on him.

"I . . ."

"Clearly my fault for being too --"

"No-no!"

"Nothing that can't be reformed!" Salma interrupted. "Collect your stuff and set your work-station on the other counter! Or should I collect mine?"

"C'mon!"

"I'll collect mine," Salma said with a shrug and stood up.

Jason dived across the counter to grab her bag before she could. He yanked it away.

"Stark!"

"C'mon! C'mon!" he begged. "I was just kidding."

"Exactly!"

Jason winced.

"I'll behave!" he quickly promised. "No more kidding! Sally, C'mon!" He prolonged the word as he pulled the bag away from her reach.

Salma crossed her arms over her chest.

"Are you seriously pouting?"

"No." Jason pouted some more.

"And now you're giving me the puppy-eyes." Salma sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm not," Jason replied, intensifying the puppy-eyes.

Salma barely stopped the sudden laugh.

"Alright Stark, hand over my bag," she said.

"Are you going to boycott me?" Jason asked, his tone carrying a mix of dread that she would do it, and a challenge that he would not let her.

"Why? do you plan on crying?" Salma gave him the flat-eye.

"Try me."

"I'd rather not." Salma huffed and sat down.

Jason grinned broadly.

"It's called shaka-yeehaw!" He celebrated, swinging her bag around and spilling some of its contents in the process

Salma facepalmed herself. Just her luck.

"Sorry, sorry!"

"My bag," she said dryly.

"Of course!" Jason hurried to collect her papers and stationary.

Salma grabbed her bag and placed it beside her. Jason took his seat again.

"Just so you know --"

"I know! No more jokes about you falling for Zayn!" Jason cut her too it.

Salma fixed him with a stare.

"Oops. . ."

"You and I have a friendly working relation, Stark. You want to gossip about love affairs, find yourself another girl. There are plenty."

"Does that include you gossiping with me about Louisa?" Jason asked.

Salma opened her mouth to snap back, but then closed it and had a think.

Did she ever tease him about Louisa . . ?

"Yes," Salma replied, unable to recall her teasing him.

"Alright then, let's stick to the friendly working relation," Jason muttered.

"Stark, I'm serious!"

"Yes, I know! Rahman, can we please go back to the good old time where you called me Jason and I called you Salma?" Jason asked.

Salma opened her mouth but then shut it close, again. If she disagreed, he would start calling her Rahman, and she didn't really like the sound of it very much.

"Look at you being all bold and annoying," Salma grumbled as she started searching the contents of her bag to make sure everything was in it. "First you came here, you couldn't even look me in the eye or string three words in a sentence without stuttering."

Jason sighed happily, leaning against the counter again, with his face resting in his hand once more.

"Those were the days, weren't they?" he said, smiling in nostalgia. "Do you miss the scared looking junior who was always acting nervous?"

"Acting?" Salma blinked.

"Of course," Jason grinned. "Otherwise you wouldn't take me under your wing, now would you?"

Salma pointed a threatening finger at the junior. He really had grown very comfortable around her.

"You are asking for trouble!" Salma warned. "Those wings can slap you silly too!"

"I'll very quietly move to the safety of my work station, then."

As Jason slipped away, Salma decided it was the flowers fault and put the fragrant drug away from her – carefully.

"Hold it, Stark!" Salma stopped him. "Jason," she quickly corrected. In all the mess of the drugged flowers and the junior's stupid assumptions, she had forgotten why she had come to the laboratory in the first place. "I need your help."

"Sure," he agreed readily.

"I haven't even told you whatever it is?" Salma raised a brow.

Jason chuckled. "Yeah. Imagine agreeing to helping the most benign person on campus. What if she asks me to lay out honey drops on the sidewalk for any bees dying of exhaustion!" He gasped.

Benign ha! You'd be running for the hills if you knew how dangerous this benign person was!

"Funny." Salma rolled her eyes but could not help the smile.

"You were saying?" Jason asked.

"Oh yeah, that! I need to buy a piece of clothing, like a shirt or - yeah probably a shirt, but like it should have this customized thing. It can't be just any shirt, you know what I mean. . ." Salma struggled. Jason waited patiently for her pull her thoughts together. "Maybe a shirt with a hand-drawn bee, but like printed."

Jason's eyebrows shot to the heavens.

"Don't laugh," Salma said abruptly – a warning that came out as a request.

Jason cleared his throat.

"Would it be safe to assume that the shirt is for a guy – or is it against the friendly working relation protocol?"

"I could be getting it for my brother!" Salma said, sounding defensive.

"I didn't really ask who the bee-themed shirt was for - was just wondering about which gender. . .?"

Salma's mouth dropped open. She could tell Jason was struggling to keep a straight face for her having all but confirmed who the shirt was for. Salma slumped down, sighing in defeat.

"Yes," she grumbled. "It's for Zayn."

Feeling embarrassed and awkward, she did not turn to Jason when she heard the stool scrap. She could see him laughing the roof off of the lab at her, but she could not really reprimand him for teasing her when she, in fact, had been the one to hand the joke to him on a silver platter.

"Do you need help in buying a shirt, or getting it printed with a hand-drawn bee?"

Salma glanced at the junior out of the corner of her eye. He smiled.

"Friendly working relation." He shrugged, doing his best to keep the smile polite. "My colleague needs help shopping. Nothing major."

"Thank you." Salma heaved a sigh of relief. Had Jason not agreed, she would have had to turn to Asim and the prospect of that was giving her a stomach ache. Dean was the best option but he was not available and Dumbo would never let her hear the end of it, if she told him.

Salma turned to face Jason fully.

"I hate shopping and I'm terrible at it. Do you know a store that sells nice shirts that will also custom print it?"

"With a bee?" Jason motioned over his breast pocket.

"And that's the other issue, is it too tacky?" Salma continued uncertainly. "I just wanted it to look personal but I don't know. . ."

"I think he'd love it!" Jason said. And when Salma looked unsure. "No seriously. If I get a piece of clothing as a gift? Great, thank you. But if I get a piece of clothing that was specifically designed keeping something I liked in mind? That hits different. I know a lot of thought has been put into it and the person is observant and attentive to my taste and preference --"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down Stark, it's not that deep!" Salma held up her hands. "It's really not that deep! I'd have printed a football on it if it was about being observant and attentive and whatever."

"Look, the friendly working relation protocol doesn't permit me to point out that he would definitely love the bee drawing more than the football."

Salma felt her face growing warm.

"But of course, I won't point that out and ask you instead, why would an artist like football? Shouldn't you be printing paint brushes or something?"

Salma opened her mouth to reply and froze.

Crap!

"He once mentioned he likes watching football!" Salma tried to do damage control.

"Uh hun." Jason said, not buying it. "Just once . . . can't say if he actually loves it if he just mentioned it once."

Salma bit her tongue. Why was she so lousy with her partial truths?

"Anyways," Jason continued. "Give me a drawing and we'll see what we can do. When do you need the shirt?"

"Like today," Salma said, checking her watch, relieved that the junior let her slip go. Zayn would hate it if his Arethas Grace life got leaked to other people. "In three hours, tops!"

"Three hours?!"

"Yeah, that puts us on the clock . . ."

"It does," Jason said, standing up. "Give me the details. What kind of a shirt, material, color and the drawing. Send me all the specifics."

***

Zayn walked straight past the FBI agent when he saw her standing at the mouth of the parking lot – arms crossed, shades on and a dark scowl still visible despite her sunglasses. He was having a terrible day, Salma's recent message was a cherry on the top.

My Bee: Just thought I'd let you know in case you wanted us to go out today

She had texted him.

My Bee: I have somewhere to be.

My Bee: Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier.

Zayn pursed his lip, feeling bitter. He did not know how much of 'My Bee' was his Bee anymore. He should have had more sense than following Claire's plan. The question to officially go out with him had obviously worked horribly.

"I really can't take your crap today," Zayn said, pushing Alex's arm off that she had shot in his way, to stop him from walking away.

"Neither can I," came the reply through gritted teeth.

"Great." Zayn rounded on her. "Then let's not impose our presence on each other."

"You haven't yet seen the insides of my interrogation room, Harris!" she returned coldly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't call this me imposing my presence on you!"

Zayn narrowed his eyes.

"Is that a threat?"

"If you act like a fugitive, you'll be treated like one!"

"The hell you talking about --?"

"For weeks now you've refused to show up! Ignoring my messages, mails and calls!"

"I've been busy! I happen to have a life, Alex!"

"Doing what? Conspiring ways to make that ninja snog you?!"

"Would you just shut up?!" Zayn snapped. "I'm allowed to not entertain you if I don't want to."

"No, you're not!" Alex returned. "Not when you are still under contract to work for me!"

"The contract says I can pull out whenever!"

"So this is you pulling out?!" Alex asked. "Is this why you wasted my time and resources, feeding me fake intelligence to settle your petty scores?!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused!" she spat. "You're lucky I'm here instead of issuing an order to detain you! We raided the Dark Peach's Song on your tip and guess what we found in the cellars? Nothing!"

"What?" Zayn asked, blinking.

"They were empty, Harris. Nothing illegal!"

"What do you mean?" Zayn asked. "I said I got information regarding drugs there but I told you to confirm it before doing a drug bust. It's not my fault if you just blasted the front door off it's hinges without first verifying facts!"

"We did verify facts and we found the cellars stocked, and on the day of the bust, it was all gone! Not a shard of evidence!"

"How is that my fault?!" Zayn asked, getting annoyed. "It was clearly not fake intelligence!"

"No the fake intelligence bit was the fact that you said didn't know the new buyer," Alex snapped. "It almost looks like you were using me to take the piss out of Derek Hilton."

"Just take a breath, Alexandra!" Zayn interrupted her, raising his voice "I understand that you're looking to scapegoat someone for your failure but I'm not that guy, not this time!" he fumed, somewhat taking Alex by surprise. This was a little unusual. More often than not, Zayn would take the blame. "The information I received was proven correct upon your own verification. My source didn't mention the buyer but yes, Hilton was there and he was known to me as the buyer but on paper, I was told, it was someone else. Since you're always thinking I'm having a go at your sister's piss-poor fiancé, I didn't mention Hilton!"

"Derek is the buyer on the paper," Alex said firmly.

"Great!" Zayn shrugged. "Doesn't really affect my oxygen levels who the buyer is? I just conveyed what my source –"

"I'd like to know who this source is." Alex narrowed her eyes.

"Why?" Zayn asked. "That's not part of the deal here. I told you before they don't want any part of this."

"Because your source probably played us and I have to know it's not someone feeding us a red herring through you while they do the actual deed elsewhere!" Alex said.

Zayn said nothing. What she said was totally plausible. In fact, that was probably exactly how it had happened? Zayn did not realize Alex was watching him closely.

"You don't even know if you can trust your source?" the agent guessed, and quite accurately too.

"I don't trust anyone and you know it," Zayn replied, feeling a little perturbed. "That is why I asked you to verify it before doing a raid."

What exactly was that swine playing at by giving Zayn fake intelligence to feed Alex? Was he trying to ward her off? Keep her busy so Zayn would be more exposed to him? The Green Coats already expressed many times that they had their hands full and were under-manned. Even they were mostly depending upon Alex to keep him safe.

Zayn wondered for the hundredth time if he should confide in Alex or the Green Coat about this accomplice . . ? He had been collecting evidence of his meetings with him. Coordinates, recordings, fingerprints . . .

"Regardless," Alex's voice came out muffled as she rubbed her face with her hands. "I have to do a lot of explanations as to why I used so much manpower and resources half across the country and produce nothing of substance. It would be lovely if, in times like this, you would be so bothered as to get back to me when I'm asking for your help or an explanation."

"Fine." Zayn rolled his eyes. "But you might want to check with your own. It might as well not be my source but your verification guy that did the damage. You might want to plug those leaks."

"Thank you for your genius ideas, I would never have thought!" Alex returned sarcastically.

"Wow, you sure are in very high spirits." Zayn laughed. "Are you getting demoted?"

Zayn's laugh would have been the last, had it not been that Claire had appeared around his car just then.

"Zayn, you don't have any plans with Salma today, right?" she asked. "Oh, hi Alex!"

Zayn's stomach sank. He was almost too aware of Alex and how he did not want the agent to know he was suffering yet another low with Salma. Not here, not now, when he had just taken a dig at her.

The agent, like a well-trained monster that she was, sensed his discomfort. She gave him a smug smile before turning to Claire.

"Hi, how're you doing?" she asked pleasantly. "Has Zayn been very busy with Miss Rahman these days?"

Zayn clenched his jaws.

"They haven't missed a day to go out." Claire giggled before turning to Zayn. "So, you lot going out today too?"

"No, she had something come up," Zayn told Claire, ignoring Alex's almost devilish smile. "Why?"

"I wanted the car. Me and Char --"

"No," Zayn interrupted.

"What? Why not? Come on --"

"I have somewhere to be and need my car," Zayn said simply.

"But --"

"Where's your car?"

"It's not fancy enough – you know what, forget it!" Stomping her foot, Claire turned around and left.

Brat! Zayn snorted.

"So," Alex began.

"Save it!"

"Oh, I really love the sound of a heartbreak," Alex sang out. "Is deary beloved --"

"It's not a break up! We just didn't have any plans today!" Zayn returned. "We're not obliged to go out every single day!"

"Wow, you sure are in very high spirits." The agent cackled. "Are you getting dumped?"

"Whatever helps you sleep tonight with that L you took in Dark Peach's Song." Zayn scoffed, ignoring the stab in his heart. "Move aside, I have to go."

Zayn's car beeped as he pushed past a still jeering Alex. Her ridicule of his possible dumping was not too far off the mark. Salma texting him earlier to inform him that she was busy for the day was very telling. Claire's stupid idea of asking her out had scared her. She was back to avoiding him again now.

He unlocked his car and froze. The package stared at him blandly. The very sight of it just sitting there on his front seat was full of unpredictable, fearsome and dangerous possibilities.

Someone had been inside his car.

Author's Note:

Proceed to the next chapter. It's a double update ;)

Lots of Love

J.