Page 26 of Crocodile Tears (Romance Expected Dating Service #2)

“Enhanced night vision, improved chemical detection through scent analysis, and whether your bite delivers neurotoxic compounds that could be tactically useful.”

I pause to stare at her. “You want to know if my shifter abilities have combat applications?”

She meets my gaze with obvious scientific interest. “I want to understand the full range of capabilities that might be relevant to our current situation. Also, I’m curious about whether your enhanced night vision has measurable spectral differences from standard human vision.”

“You’re asking about my shifter physiology like it’s a research project.”

She adjusts her position to face me more directly. “I’m asking about your shifter physiology because I’m genuinely interested in understanding how your capabilities work. Both personally and professionally.”

I finish the water treatment while considering how to respond to her clinical curiosity about my reptilian nature. Most people who learn about shifter abilities either react with fear or fetishization. Becci’s approach is purely scientific, which is both refreshing and oddly intimate.

“Enhanced night vision extends into the near-infrared spectrum.” I demonstrate by describing details of our surroundings that are invisible in normal lighting.

“Chemical detection through enhanced olfactory processing provides information about recent human presence, emotional states, and health conditions.”

She listens with the focused attention of someone taking mental notes. “And neurotoxic bite capabilities?”

“Minimal neurotoxic compounds but significant crushing force and enhanced healing of bite wounds due to specialized saliva composition.”

Becci’s eyes light up with obvious fascination. “Specialized how?”

I find myself explaining the biochemical properties of Gila monster saliva while she asks increasingly detailed questions about venom delivery mechanisms and tissue damage patterns.

Her scientific curiosity transforms what could be an uncomfortable discussion about predatory capabilities into an educational exchange.

“Your turn,” I say after finishing her impromptu lesson in reptilian toxicology.

“My turn for what?”

I gesture toward her while continuing to organize our supplies. “Crocodilian shifting capabilities. You’ve demonstrated enhanced strength and jaw force, but I’m curious about other combat applications.”

She considers this while examining the jungle canopy. “Enhanced swimming capabilities, obviously. I have improved lung capacity for extended underwater operations, and of course, the crocodilian jaw strength you’ve witnessed. Also, enhanced temperature regulation and improved healing rates.”

“Temperature regulation? Isn’t that unusual for a cold-blooded shifter?”

She demonstrates by shifting her skin temperature slightly. “Crocodilians are more efficient at thermoregulation than most people realize. It’s useful for avoiding thermal detection or maintaining optimal body temperature in challenging environments.”

“That’s remarkably practical for tactical situations.” The conversation is surreal but oddly enlightening. Some people exchange information about hobbies or interests. We’re discussing biological fundamentals, but it feels deeply personal.

“Most reptilian adaptations have practical applications once you understand the underlying biology.”

I finish organizing our emergency supplies while processing this information about her capabilities. The combination of her scientific expertise and enhanced shifter abilities makes her significantly more tactically useful than I initially assessed.

“We should establish a temporary camp here,” I say while checking our remaining daylight. “Plan our route to the extraction point and wait for optimal movement conditions.”

Becci examines our surroundings with obvious approval. “I concur. It has a good defensive position, multiple escape routes, access to water, and sufficient canopy cover to avoid aerial detection.”

“You’re analyzing our campsite like a tactical assessment.” I beam at her with pride I can’t contain.

She grins while helping me organize equipment. “I’m applying scientific methodology to survival situations. Same analytical approach, different application.”

I begin teaching her basic survival skills while she approaches each lesson like laboratory protocols. When I demonstrate shelter construction, she takes detailed mental notes and suggests efficiency improvements that actually work better than my military training.

“The traditional lean-to design creates unnecessary heat loss through the back wall,” she observes while helping me arrange branches. “If we modify the angle to create thermal reflection, we can improve heat retention by approximately thirty percent.”

I adjust the shelter design according to her calculations. “That’s actually a significant improvement.”

“Physics applies to survival situations just like everything else.”

In return, Becci identifies edible plants and creates an improvised water filtration system using materials from my emergency kit combined with natural resources she’s found in the jungle. Her scientific approach to survival proves superior to my standard military equipment in several areas.

“Activated charcoal from this burned wood, combined with sand filtration and these specific plant fibers, creates water purification that’s more effective than your standard tablets,” she explains while demonstrating her improvised system.

I test the filtered water and find it cleaner than anything my military training produced. “Where did you learn wilderness survival techniques?”

“I didn’t. I’m applying principles of chemistry and biology to environmental challenges.” She continues refining her filtration system with obvious satisfaction. “The specific techniques are new, but the underlying science is familiar.”

Our teamwork feels natural, each filling gaps in the other’s knowledge. I provide tactical security and basic survival framework while she applies scientific principles to optimize our efficiency and safety.

As daylight fades and we settle into our improvised camp, the jungle sounds are surprisingly comforting rather than threatening. Her presence transforms what should be a high-stress tactical situation into something that feels almost normal.

“Tell me about growing up as a reptile shifter,” she says while we arrange our sleeping area for shared warmth.

The request catches me by surprise. Most people either avoid the topic entirely or approach it with uncomfortable curiosity about exotic experiences. “What do you want to know?”

She settles beside me as darkness deepens around our camp. “What was it like being the only reptile shifter in your community?”

I consider how to explain experiences that shaped my entire worldview. “Isolating. Most shifter communities are dominated by mammals—wolves, cats, and bears. Reptilian shifters are rare enough that most people don’t know how to relate to us.”

“Different how?”

“Different everything. Social structures, communication patterns, relationship dynamics, and even basic comfort needs.” I adjust our shared blanket while explaining.

“Mammalian shifters tend toward pack mentalities and warm social connections. Reptilian shifters are more solitary by nature and process social situations differently.”

Becci listens with the focused attention she applies to scientific lectures. “Is that why you chose military service?”

“Military service provided structure and purpose without requiring emotional intimacy that didn’t come naturally.” I find myself explaining motivations I’ve never articulated before. “Also, tactical training utilized my natural capabilities in ways that felt productive rather than isolating.”

“And mercenary work?”

I pause to consider how to explain the transition from military service to private contracting. “Freedom from institutional constraints, higher compensation, and the ability to choose assignments based on personal interest rather than orders.”

“What changed your mind about that lifestyle?”

The question requires more introspection than I expected. “Growing disillusionment with clients who use private military services for morally questionable objectives. Also, increasing awareness that I want things that are incompatible with constant travel and tactical operations.”

Becci shifts closer as the temperature drops with nightfall. “Things like what?”

“Things like this conversation, sharing experiences with someone who understands both the scientific and personal aspects of shifter physiology.” I find myself being more honest than I intended.

“Things like discovering that isolation isn’t necessarily preferable to connection with the right person. ”

She considers this while listening to the jungle sounds around us. “I understand isolation. Being a reptilian shifter in academic environments creates similar challenges.”

“How so?”

“Academic communities expect certain social behaviors and communication patterns that don’t align naturally with reptilian personalities.

” She adjusts her position to share warmth more efficiently.

“Also, my research focus on genetic modifications makes colleagues uncomfortable because it raises questions about the ethics of enhancing shifter capabilities.”

“Questions like what?”

Becci explains the ethical complexities of her research while I listen with growing appreciation for the challenges she faces in her professional life.

Her work exists at the intersection of multiple controversial fields, requiring her to navigate scientific ethics, shifter politics, and institutional pressure.

“Most of my colleagues think genetic enhancement research is inherently dangerous,” she continues. “They don’t understand that the research itself isn’t the problem but the application of the research that creates ethical concerns.”

“Like weaponizing healing capabilities for military applications.”

“Exactly. The scientific knowledge could be used to help people recover from injuries or diseases, but it could also be used to create enhanced soldiers with tactical advantages.”

I consider that while watching stars appear through the jungle canopy. “Is that why you were so determined to destroy the data?”

“Yes. Scientific knowledge should be used to improve human welfare, not to create new forms of warfare.”

The conversation evolves into deeper territory as we share stories of isolation and misunderstanding.

Becci tells me about growing up as the only crocodilian shifter in her adoptive mammalian family, and I mention how isolating it can be as the only reptile shifter in a mammal squad.

“I’ve never told anyone about the isolation aspects of reptilian shifting,” I say while listening to night sounds around us.

Becci turns to face me in the darkness. “Most people don’t understand that isolation can be both comfortable and limiting simultaneously.”

“Exactly. It’s not loneliness in the traditional sense, but it’s awareness that you’re fundamentally different from the people around you.”

“And that the difference isn’t necessarily negative, just incompatible with conventional expectations.”

As we settle into sleep arrangements that prioritize warmth and security over sexy times, I realize this conversation has changed something fundamental about how I view the possibility of civilian relationships.

The isolation that defined my adult life feels less permanent when shared with someone who understands both the challenges and advantages of reptilian shifter identity.

“Cal?” Her voice is soft in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming after me.”

My chest constricts at the simple words, and I clear my throat. “Of course. I couldn’t leave you with Vega.”

“Even though it involved significantly more tactical complications than your original plan?”

I consider the events of the past twenty-four hours—the infiltration, the firefight, the chase, and now this unexpected intimacy in the middle of hostile territory.

“Especially because it involved significantly more tactical complications than my original plan.” I laugh softly.

“I like the kind of complications you bring, Becci.”