He couldn't be sure what she meant by that. But it didn't matter much. She was there. She was close. That's what he wanted, for them to be close to one another.
"Baba." He repeated it. A smile crept over his lips. "Is it short for something? It's wonderfully unusual."
There was the smallest little pause when his ears heard the words his mouth was saying, and he felt rediculous. Where he felt like he didn't even know himself anymore, because the Dexter he'd grown up with would have never said something that retarded. But it passed so quickly, he couldn't hold onto the idea of the absurdity sitting before him now.
That he was in love. Yes, that's what it was. Love. He was in love with Baba. Suddenly and incredibly. In love with a woman who he didn't know. How was it possible? How had she made him feel this way when nothing and nobody else in his life had that ability? Nothing except the kill.
It was both love. But they were different kinds of love.
Kill Baba? Never. Share the kill with her? Now that was a possibility. She could be there. She could watch. Maybe she could even join in. She didn't seem to be the least bit disturbed by him. Perhaps that was a good sign. Of course, it could have been a sign to show that she didn't really know what was going on. But he thought that she did. It felt like she did.