Natalie stared at her face in the mirror. She was dressed in the same clothes she had worn the day before, since the only option was to wear something of Armands, and that just wasn't going to work. This iteration of her soul was too curvy. Natalie didn’t mind the jeans and shirt combination, although the black seemed even darker against her almost colourless skin tone. She would need to go home and get dressed into something else at some point. She had always been more attracted to natural colours like green and blues than minimalistic colours like this, but that didn’t always translate into her other lifetimes.

“Hey,” Armand announced before joining her, making eye contact through the mirror before kissing her shoulder. “You left this on the floor by the door.” He handed her an apron with The Rhythm Fox printed on the corner and a few personal items in the pockets.

“Work uniform,” Natalie said, looking at her reflection again. Suddenly, the black-on-black clothing didn't seem so terrible, and she held out hope that her regular wardrobe would hold fragments of her previous preferences. “I think we are getting better at this.” She commented, taking the phone from the front of the apron and sliding it into a back pocket. She wished she had a wallet for the credit card and driver's licence that sat loose with the phone, but for now, she would need to keep them like this. “Remember in the beginning when we wouldn’t even remember our names.” she reminisced with a soft smile. Natalie returned to staring at her face in the mirror and was relieved that she could have a natural hair colour this time. Natalie could easily adjust to most of the new ways of whatever lifetime she was given, but the chemical smell of hair products would always make her nose itch.

“And it was far harder to find them out because there was barely a register for births back in the old country. Now I know everything about you from one little plastic card.” Armand smirked, and Natalie felt something relax in her gut. No matter what lifetime they were in, the changes to his face and body, that smirk survived it all. It seemed to be built into his DNA.

“You know everything about me?” she asked, looking at him through the mirror as she gathered her hair in her hands.

“Natalie Rocher, born twenty-eighth of May 1992.” Armand relaxed against the door frame as Natalie brought out the driver’s licence to check his memory against the details written. “Not an organ donor, live at apartment fifty-two, no twenty-five…” he quickly corrected himself before Natalie could do it for him. “and apparently this…” he came over and tapped at the s under conditions. “means you wear glasses.”

Natalie frowned. “I can see just fine.” She told him, and Armand just shrugged.

“Maybe you have contacts.” Armand seemed to have an answer for everything.

She flipped the card to the back, turned it around again and shrugged. “Well, since I am no longer a mystery to you, let’s see what you have.” Armand handed over his own card. “This isn’t a licence.” She told him. “Proof of age card?” she read the title out loud to herself.

“Maybe I was a dangerous criminal in this life.” Natalie smiled, but let Armand go on because she could see he had been working on this story for a little while. He constantly adjusted to the changes faster than she did. His memory of the laws and way of this timeline seemed to be a gift from Nosferatu to make their journey easier. She wasn't sure what extra gift she had been granted. Maybe she was just an anchor to keep Armand on track. “The ultimate bad guy. I didn’t start off that way. Just looking for a way to make a little something in the world and ended up owing some favours to street thugs. To pay off the debt I became their getaway driver for bank heists.”

“Armand, I don’t think bank heists are relevant…” she tried, but he silenced her with a firm shake of his head.

“Bank heists.” He repeated, and Natalie just nodded. “First time I was fourteen, and could barely reach the steering wheel.”

Natalie laughed and gave him the card back by firmly pushing it into his chest before giving it one last look over. “Or maybe you lived in the city your whole life and never needed to learn.” He grinned at Natalie as kissed him quickly.

“Well Mr. Nepomuceno, I like both versions of that story.” but her eyes gave away her concerns. Armand knew her better than she gave him credit for.

“Natalie what’s wrong?” He asked her.

“It's nothing.” She turned her focus back to the mirror, pulling her hair up into an elegant French twist before she sighed and had to settle for a ponytail. She was lucky to have something to secure it with at all. Natalie didn’t usually pull her hair back at work, and the elastic she had found wrapped around Armand’s pen had been a happy accident. “You were born in 1985.”

Armand frowned. “So. You don’t like older men?” he was trying to lighten the mood, but Natalie refused to let him.

. "After you had been killed during a mugging, I drowned myself only seven days later.” It was simply part of the curse. Once they found death, a new life would start, and somehow, no matter where they came from, they would be brought back together, the mental switch would flip, and they could start working again. If one died without the other, it got a little complicated. Armand and Natalie had died over and over for centuries. If anything she could count on in the future, death could be easily found in modern times and relatively painless if she felt like it. Drugs, or what she had once thought were poisons, were sold in every city of the world. “It took longer than before." It was obvious to her, and she was sure Armand considered it as well, but she couldn't help but feel the flutter of tension settle back in her stomach. It was a pattern she had noticed for a little while now, but this was the longest break she could remember.

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“Natalie…” Armand opened his arms out to her, and she turned into them, hiding her face in his chest as his hands soothed her back. “I still found you.” He whispered, kissing the top of her head, and she managed to nod against his chest. “And I always will.”

“I know but, what if someday you don’t, or you can’t? What if we somehow find a life where we don’t end up together?” Natalie looked up at him, tears forming in her eyes.

“That could never happen.”

“You sound so sure.” She chuckled.

“Well, I believe in the power that got us into this mess. We are giving up our lives, denying our souls rest to save the world. It is a noble thing to do, and we should be impressed with how far we have come.” Armand smiled gently. “And you are too stubborn to let me just claim the credit without doing the work. You will always find me, because who else will do the heavy lifting?”

Natalie smiled and hugged him tightly around the middle. “I like you for more than just heavy lifting.” She teased.

“Oh?” Armand smirked, and she knew that look. The look that survived centuries and would always make any room, in any building, in any city, her home no matter when she woke up. She breathed in the unfamiliar scents of his apartment and his aftershave, but that smirk made them seem like a welcoming home gift.

“You are a great maker of sandwiches.” She joked, and Armand chuckled. “I mean now they have USB sticks, so the files aren’t as thick as they once were. Heavy listing hasn't been a concern for a few long rotations." She jokingly reminded him. "I had to find a new use for you.” They kissed, and for now, Natalie was content. as Armand closed the Apartment door behind them.

"I am curious," Armand began, leading the way out of the room, and Natalie trailed after him as they headed for the door. "Why do our memories of our lives take longer to hit us, but how this world works doesn't?"

Natalie pondered the question. It wasn't the first time Armand had raised the issue, but this time she felt a glimmer of insight. "Well, we're reminded of the world because it doesn’t move as quickly as our personalities do," she ventured. It was a speculative answer, yet at this moment, it was the most logical explanation that aligned with some semblance of scientific sense. "Our memories of the world, its laws, and social cues are repetitive and directly connected to our past lives. But you," she paused, studying him and acknowledging that his current form bore little resemblance to the man who had forsaken eternal blessings to embark on this journey with her. "Armand..." she corrected herself swiftly. "He's not the same guy he was four years ago, or even three months ago. Personalities change with age. Laws take longer," she summarised.

Armand considered her response and eventually nodded. "It's better than any theory I could come up with."

"What did you think of?" she inquired, descending the stairs to the street below, casually taking his hand because she could. Her hand naturally belonged in his, regardless of the body she currently inhabited.

"I thought I'd ask you." He grinned at her chuckle, responding with a mock dismayed shake of her head. "I know you're the beauty and the brains of this operation. For a long time, I was just the muscle to keep you alive."

Natalie shrugged. "I think you've learned a lot over the lifetimes. I believe that we're on pretty even footing in the brains department now."

"And the beauty?" Armand teased.

"Oh, I still hold onto that title very comfortably," Natalie smiled as he pulled her closer, their lips barely meeting before a shout from a passing stranger interrupted the moment.

“This is where you were?” Ryan asked. He was still dressed in the same clothes from last night, just like Natalie was, except he had not had a few hours of peaceful sleep that Natalie had managed with Armand. It took a second for her to place his face, and the sudden gut-wrenching feeling as the memory knocked her back off her feet. She winced as Ryan stared at her. Panting, barely in control of himself, and still, he was giving her the opportunity to speak.

This boy didn’t deserve this, but how could she explain that she was really a soul-hoping entity who was racing against the clock in an effort to save the world before they died again? He wouldn’t believe her, and Natalie wouldn’t blame him. “Ryan, I’m sorry.” She said, and Natalie was. “These things happen.”

“They don’t just happen.” Ryan accused, and that anger she had witnessed last night came pushing through the fog. “You told me that he was a friend Natalie. You promised me that he wasn’t anything to worry about.”

Natalie was compelled to swallow down the bile that threatened to come up as she was forced to take all of this data in a sudden shove instead of the slow process she was accustomed to.

His hand came up, finger pointed, intending to poke her in the chest, when Armand stepped in to stop it. “Look, Kid, let it go and move on.”

Ryan looked at Armand, standing taller and fuelled by anger. Ryan managed to look intimidating, but Armand had time on his side. He knew how to handle himself, just like he had done in the club last night. They did switch lives and bodies every thirty years or so, but some characteristics never changed. Armand would always be level-headed in a crisis, and that was why Natalie had first fallen in love with him.

“I told you to stay away from her.” He moved his focus from Natalie to Armand.

“If you were giving the lady what she needed then she wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.” Armand shot back. Natalie couldn’t believe that Armand had said that, and it seemed that even Ryan was a little rocked in his bravado as he digested the insult.

Ryan was a sweet and sensitive young man, and she didn’t want this to haunt the rest of his life. “Armand, get us a taxi.” And after a lasting glare at Ryan, Armand moved off to do as she told him. She knew the last glare wasn’t a warning to Ryan or even a showing off. Armand just wanted to make sure he would be the target if this got physical. Natalie took a slow breath and watched as Armand took only four steps away from her and pretended to be waiting for a taxi to appear magically.

“Ryan, I am sorry.” Natalie apologised again, knowing she could never say sorry enough, but she still kept saying it in the hopes that it would make him feel better. “It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do. We just aren’t right for each other.” Natalie sighed, hugging herself because she felt nauseous. “You know it’s true.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, Nat, we are perfect for each other. I know it. I knew it from the first time I saw you that we were perfect together.”

Natalie smiled softly. “I’m sorry.” It was all she could say as she turned to join Armand, who was waiting with a taxi door open.

Ryan grabbed her hand and forced her to turn back towards him. The sudden movement made the world spin; the morning struggle of the sunrise made everything lose focus momentarily as Natalie thought she was about to pass out. Before she could fall, Armand was there, pulling her to safety and holding Ryan back at arm’s length.

“Be smart about this,” Armand warned him, and when Ryan said nothing, he decided that would be the best he would get. Backing away at first and only turning his back on Ryan when he had to, the pair struggled into the back seat of a taxi and gave directions to a postal security box across town.