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“Tell me. Matt. What kind of fucking monster doesn’t register their fingerprints at the Office?”
Pidge has been through the official records, like the procedure expected. They were supposed to get an answer. Whether it be a number to contact their soulmate, or that their soulmate being under sixteen, they weren’t aloud to meet them yet. Which, by the way, Pidge has always thought stupid, there should exist a procedure based on consent and not on age, but that is a whole other topic.
“Well, maybe they aren’t born yet?”
This is, indeed, an option. But Pidge doesn’t believe it. Call it a hunch or a gut feeling, they know their soulmate is out there. In the world, and visibly very much avoiding them. So they do what seems like the most reasonable thing to do. They hack into the national police files.
And oh, boy, they aren’t disappointed.
Two full years have passed since that fateful day. Sweet sixteen, they say? That’s right. And like sugar turning into alcohol, sweet sixteen turned to sour eighteen and Pidge is at least glad they aren’t alone to deal with it.
The Holt’s basement had turned from a geek-cave into the most secure place in town. Six computer towers running on power diverted from six different nuclear centrals, a bunch of e-plants to produce untraceable energy, fingerprint-protected door, and a whole damn lot of firewalls.
Pidge nervously taps over the desk, frantic, almost ecstatic. After a two-years long search, there they were. On Pidge’s screen, a hooded figure, walking towards the inside of a government building. That’s a dangerous mission. But they are too sure to go back now. Another opportunity won’t present itself so soon.
Two years, and Pidge still doesn’t have a name to put on those fingerprints, nor a face. Only a file number from the police archives — which they may or may not have destroyed — and the name of the dog that accompanies their soulmate on missions. Kosmo.
They crack their neck, reflexively put their hand over it. There, half-hidden by their hair, Kosmo’s human’s fingerprints. They pilot their drone to fly closer, coding rapidly to initiate cloaking. It’s more tangible that it has ever been.
Since they learnt their soulmate was a wanted criminal, Pidge has been distorting the laws a bit. Yes, technically, they have been on the criminal side of things for a long long time, but infiltrating a classified government base? That is a first.
Matt’s presence in the couch of the room is calming. They have emergency procedures ready, pre-coded programs to destroy their bot, maps to manage a successful extraction of their soulmate, and the drone is equipped with fight gear. Plus, their soulmate knows what they are doing.
They just have to follow them through the mission, stay invisible, and once he’s out, initiate contact. The tech-signature of the bot is hidden, it shouldn’t show on any devices. At least, on any devices from the structure.
It took them the last twenty-four hours to decode the orders for the mission but now they at least know what they will be doing for the next hundred minutes. Should the mission last any longer, emergency procedures would have to be initiated. This is the time they have before security notices the both of them.
Pidge’s hands are sweaty, and they cover them with gloves, remembering they’ll have to clean everything later. Their own fingerprints have been deleted from the national security databases too, but should the mission go south and this place be found… Every precaution has been taken, and Pidge hold on to that thought. The smell of cold coffee fills their nose, and Matt’s cologne. Everything will be okay.
It’s the longest hour Pidge has ever lived, and when the extraction is complete, they have to fight their mind losing focus. Their soulmate’s mission may be complete, but theirs isn’t, and they have to remain on edge to see it through. They trained themselves to follow random people, cops, national agents… No one ever caught them yet, even if this Lotor guy came really close to.
The criminal is in the abandoned subway tunnels, safe and sound, when the building they infiltrated explodes, and it’s hard to get a signal there. They lose visual for an agonizing minute, but the heat signature is easy to track, and soon, they resurface.
He changed out of his Blade uniform. He looks like a random tourist, camera around his neck, a large bag on his back and sunglasses on his nose. He’s sweaty, but anyone could blame it on the heat of the day. Only Pidge knows it’s from planting a bomb.
They follow him through the streets, he walks for almost an hour before entering an innocent-looking building. Pidge immediately looks up the address on their files. Nothing. No abnormal activity, no visible link to the Blade of Marmora. Whoever chose this location is good at destroying evidence. Pidge grins in respect, and the second it takes for them to get back on focus is enough for their bot to crash. The camera shows a gun, a dog claw, and Pidge puts their mic on.
“You don’t want to shoot that bot. Not after that stun you pulled. Plus, this location is well-kept, if the police were to come, there is no telling what they would find.”
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“I just want to meet you.”
Maybe telling they were soulmates would have been a good start. But Pidge wants to keep the mystery. They activate the back camera, to see the rest of the place. A bed, an empty desk, a closet with three different outfits and shoes. Take-out boxes. Bowls for Kosmo. “God your place is sad. Do you live here or is it a temporary hide-out?”
“You didn’t answer. Who are you?”
“Gunderson. I left you a message at the Blade a while back.”
“A message using my police file number. Are you a diversion while a task force is heading here?”
“I’ve been following you for a while,” they say, projecting footage of the attack earlier to prove their point, “if I were with the police I could have prevented this from happening. Plus, I don’t know your name, what else was I supposed to call you? Anyway, meet me at this address in two hours.”
That should give them time for a shower. God they reek of sweat, and they can only imagine it is their soulmate’s case too.
“Are you… blackmailing me?”
Pidge laughs a bit. This is going more swiftly than they had imagined. “Depends. Will you come if you have a choice?”
“… no?”
This time, they go into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, making Matt jump a bit. He put his headphones on as soon as the conversation started. A first interaction with a soulmate is something private. “You’re so honest. I like it. But, well, yeah, if that’s so, I guess I am blackmailing you into meeting me. You don’t know where I am, and I hacked all the cctvs around your current location, so you can’t really move without me knowing. And I have footage of you committing felony, and then your face. Push on the green button on Rover 2.2, it’ll give you a timer. It’s also a communicator, so you can contact me. Clock’s ticking. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Maybe Pidge shouldn’t have said that, because they are the one running late. They adjust their sunglasses on their nose, taking a look around. Their soulmate is sitting on a bench, and they make a stop for iced coffee before walking towards him. “Is this seat taken?”
He looks at them for a long time, eyes dumber IRL than on camera. “I’m, uh, waiting for someone.” He looks away and they sit next to him, handing him one of the to-go cups. It’s cold and wet against their palm. He doesn’t take it and they shrug. Maybe masking their voice was too much. They take a long, noisy slurp, waiting for him to look at them with disgust but he just crosses his arms, defensive. They’re still holding out the cup. “Some people died like that, y’ know.”
“Give it to someone else.”
“I’ve been looking for you for two years, I’m not settling for anyone else.”
“You-you’re Gunderson?”
Pidge has no idea what kind of person he pictured in his mind, but they are visibly the exact opposite of this image. They laugh, shaking the cup for him to take it and this time, he obliges.
“You can call me Pidge.”
“You kept me waiting.”
“You kept me searching. You’re a hard man to find.”
“Why are you looking for me? I’m nothing special. I don’t have any information.”
Pidge nods. They probably shouldn’t enjoy seeing him distressed so much. But it’s nice. He’s human. He’s human, and awkward, and they elbow him gently. “Come on. Don’t sell yourself short. You have Kosmo. That’s an asset in itself. You also have my fingerprints somewhere on your body, so, there’s that.”
“Katie Holt.”
They shiver. Suddenly he has an advantage, and they grin to hide the fear rising. “Someone did their homework. Can I know your name? File 35264 is somewhat long.”
“Keith.”
“Me.”
“What?”
They laugh, elbow him again. It’s somewhat… anticlimactic, but in a good way. Pidge never really understood what other people meant, when they said finding their soulmate was like coming home. They are uncomfortable with new people. It takes time. Intimacy. Work. But their shoulders relax despite them, they lean back on the bench. “Too early for that. But look, soulmate. You thought you were trapped, and you earned a date with an amazing hacker instead. You should be glad.”
He doesn’t answer, but he takes his first sip of the iced coffee.
It’s not like this isn’t going to need time and work, it’s more… More like, the reassurance to know that with time and effort, it will work. Call it a hunch or a gut feeling, Pidge knows their soulmate is right here, sitting beside them, and he’s not going anywhere.
“Also, is the Blade hiring?”