by C. V. Walter
When Maw-lee woke again, he had gotten some of the videos on the helmet to play and was fumbling his way through the controls with the very basic instructions Alvola had sent him. Anything beyond the first few steps were, at best, educated guesses on how things would have to be set up most efficiently.
"Mintonar?" Maw-lee called from the table and he leapt up to go to her side.
"Maw-lee," he said and watched her face light up when she turned to him. "How do you feel?"
Confusion crossed her face and he worried he'd said the words wrong.
"I'm better?" she said, the inflection that it was a question not corresponding to the words.
He sighed in frustration. "The monitors say you're better," he said carefully. "But I have no way of correctly assessing your pain levels. How do you feel?"
Her mouth hung open and he felt a perverse satisfaction at seeing her speechless.
"You understand English?" She said, her mouth turning up into a bright smile. "You can understand me? Can talk to me?"
"Not perfectly," he told her. "There are still words you've said that my translator can't identify. But I think we can communicate well enough for you to tell me if you are in any pain."
He raised his eyebrows at her and she smiled. "I should tell you I'm hungry," she said with a grin. "And insist on shenanigans before I give you an answer."
With a frown, Mintonar put a hand against her shoulder and pushed. She bit her lip, her smile no less bright, and her breathing stayed normal. Her heartbeat increased, however, far more than it should have for so small a pressure.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I need to pee," she told him. "Like when I woke you up. Does that translate?"
"Not directly," he said. "But well enough for me to understand what you need. I will assist you to the facilities."
"I'm not sure-"
"I will assist you," he said firmly. He moved to the cuffs around her legs and ankles and removed them.
She sat up, hardly struggling this time, and swung her legs off the table. Before she could stand, he caught the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then tucked it beneath her legs as he lifted her.
He ignored her noise of protest and was gratified when she didn't pursue it but laid her head against his chest again. The trip was too short, though filled with far less urgency than last time. When he sat her down, she clutched the blanket around her shoulders and extended a hand to wave him away.
"Shoo," she told him, her nose raising slightly with the word. "I am perfectly capable of using the restroom by myself."
"If you fall," he protested.
"I am capable of shouting for you," she told him. "As much as I appreciate your concern, I would much rather be left alone to deal with this."
Mintonar frowned. He didn't want to leave her in there alone. Despite the fact that she'd successfully used it once before, there were any number of ways she could injure herself. Something her people were prone to, if the videos he was reviewing were any indication.
"I'll be directly outside the door," he told her. "And I will come in to check on you if I feel you're taking too long."
"Oh my god, you're bossy," she exclaimed. "Just go. I'll be fine."
Against his better judgement, he went. There were many things he was going to have to ask her about, including the strange taboos against nudity and bodily functions. Every video he saw had certain portions of the anatomy covered, either with fabric or a crude black bar, even when it would have been appropriate to show them.
There was much they would have to speak about.
He watched the timer on his comm, aware his impatience was not eased by doing so. Several minutes had passed and he was getting ready to open the door and check on her when he heard her call his name.
The door had barely started to open when he charged through it, smacking directly into Maw-lee on the other side. A muffled 'oof' sounded from his chest when she hit it with her nose and his arm was around her to keep her from falling before he realized what he'd done.
His fingers brushed her shoulders and the lightning bolt of recognition zoomed through him, making him clutch her against him and drawing a gasp from her. Reluctantly, he moved his hand to the fabric covering her back and worked hard to school his breathing before pulling away from her.
"Are you well, Maw-lee?" he asked, leaning back enough to see her face.
"Mmhmm," she murmured, rubbing her nose against his chest. "Why do you smell good?"
"I-" Mintonar paused, not certain what to say. "I wasn't aware that I did."
"Mmm, like caramel and vanilla and something woody. Sandalwood, maybe, or oak? I don't really know trees but that's what it makes me think of."
"I don't know what those smell like," he said with a smile. She wasn't moving away and he found himself running his hand gently up and down her back.
"Doesn't matter," she said. "You probably can't smell it anyway. Most humans can't smell themselves unless they've let the b.o. get pretty strong or they've been sweating. You get used to how you smell which is why people who like to wear perfumes will put them on stronger over time until it's overpowering."
"I see," Mintonar said, and he did understand some of what she was saying. "Is everything alright?"
"No," she said with a laugh. "Nothing is alright but I'm alive and I'm here and you smell good so I'll take it."
"Did you hurt yourself? Is that why you were yelling?" He pulled away and looked at her, trying to find where she was injured.
"Only my pride," she said, pulling the blanket up and holding it against her chest. "I couldn't figure out how to work the door."
"Ah," he said. "I hadn't thought of that. Doors like this are keyed to the comms and will open automatically if not already occupied. You don't have one so it wouldn't open for you."
"There's not an override? In case the system goes down?"
"If the comms system goes down, the ship is in a whole lot more trouble than difficulty entering or exiting the facilities."
"Well, yeah, but what if someone is inside one when they go down and they're the only person who knows how to fix the comm system?"
Mintonar opened his mouth then shut it. "I'm not sure I've ever thought of that," he said. "It doesn't seem likely, does it?"
"Well, maybe your people are less likely to get caught with your pants around your ankles but there's a reason mine have mechanical levers for almost everything, even if it's usually operated remotely."
He thought about what she meant by 'pants around their ankles' and came to the conclusion that's what she called the fabric that covered her nether regions.
"It's not common, no," he said. "But it's not impossible, either. I shall find out if there is a mechanical override for the door."
She smiled at him and it eased the tension that had settled around his chest when she'd made him leave the room earlier. "It's probably a strange question," she said. "But I'd appreciate knowing if you get an answer."
"I shall tell you," he said with a smile. "Is there anything else you need or are you ready head back to the medical bay?"
"Ah," she blushed. "Well, remember what I said about the b.o. and how humans can't really smell themselves until it gets bad? I got a whiff of myself and it's really bad. I feel like I haven't showered for at least a week and I'd really like to do so."
"Shower?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "What does that mean?"
Chapter 9
It took Molly longer than she'd thought it would to explain what a shower was. Once she had, Mintonar took her to a corner of the room he called the 'facilities' and showed her how to operate the controls, including where to find the soap.
When she'd looked at it with some trepidation, he'd assured her it was safe. He'd used something similar to clean her up after he'd gotten most of the external bleeding stopped. That he'd specified where the bleeding was, she didn't want to think too much about, because it implied the existence of other bleeding.
Eventually, she was going to need to see how extensive her injuries were, and to see a human doctor to find out what the heck he'd actually done to her.
For now, though, she found a comfortable temperature and enjoyed her shower.
She felt better. The horrible aches and pains of the...day? night? few hours? before had faded into a dull ache in her knees, hips and shoulders. Hardly enough to fuss over and certainly no worse than she'd had after a long day at work.
It occurred to her that she hadn't asked him for clean clothes, though she wondered if something in her size was available on the ship. Mintonar was larger than she was, taller than most earth men, and broader of shoulder. She couldn't tell if it was muscle or just a bigger frame. Given that he was a doctor, she didn't think he spent most of his time working out but she wasn't going to rule it out.
She wanted to see other aliens. He couldn't possibly be the only one on the ship but she hadn't seen anybody else. Even if he was just exploring the life on various planets, he'd need a crew, right?
When she was certain Mintonar had been waiting long enough to want to barge in and make sure she hadn't fallen, and she'd washed everything she could manage multiple times, Molly turned the shower off and moved to the section of floor he'd told her was used instead of towels. She stood on it, dripping and feeling foolish, until warmth started moving up her body.
It was an odd sensation, not quite a warm breeze, and it made her feel pleasantly relaxed all over. When it was finished, she was dry all over, including her hair which was now bouncy and pleasant to touch. She pulled it over her shoulder and finger-combed it, the best she could do for the moment, and realized how long it was.
Her hair was dark brown and thick, long enough to reach her waist now, which is why she usually wore it pinned up in a neat bun. It was really the only way to tame it enough to get into the hoods for work when she needed to. It had lain mostly in a long, matted mess down her back while she was recovering and she hadn't thought much about it.
Now, though, she enjoyed running her fingers through it while she worked out the worst of the knots and considered what to wear. The thought of putting her dirty undershirt and panties back on after she'd cleaned herself so thoroughly was enough to make her shudder. She could wrap the blanket around herself but it was bulky and awkward and she couldn't see doing that long term.
With a sigh, she resolved to ask Mintonar about what was available. With the blanket wrapped securely under her arms and over her breasts, she knocked on the door and called gently for him to let her out.
The door slid open and she watched him take in the blanket wrapped around her. There was such a light of appreciation in his eyes that she found herself struggling not to blush under his perusal.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
Molly took a deep breath. "Better," she said. "Much better, actually. Being clean tends to do that."
"I'll remember that in the future," he said and Molly could swear there was a purr to his voice.
"Clean clothes help, as well," she told him. "And I don't have any of those."
"Ah," he said, turning to the hall. "That is something easily remedied, I think. Though there's not much to choose from in the way of fashion."
"I wear uniforms most of the time, anyway," Molly said. "As long as it covers the important parts and keeps me from freezing, I think I'll be okay."
"You have not seemed excessively cold," Mintonar said. "Have I missed the signs that you're uncomfortable?"
Molly thought about that for a minute. "No, no, I don't think so. I haven't been overly cold but I do enjoy having a blanket around me. To be honest, I'm always a little cold and I've been focused on so many other things, I don't think I really noticed. My toes are chilly but that's probably a function of walking barefoot on what I assume are metal floors."
"You assume correctly," Mintonar told her. "Are there signs I should watch for to indicate you're uncomfortable due to the temperature?"
"Um, well, uh," Molly stammered. "Shivering is a good indication, usually. Or something my people call 'gooseflesh' which is when skin gets raised bumps due to a cold breeze over already chilly flesh. Skin that's cold to the touch, obviously, but that's probably something to avoid, right?"
"Cold skin? I would imagine so, yes," Mintonar said dryly.
"No, I mean, you touching my skin. It causes a pretty strong reaction and I'm not entirely certain why. Your skin isn't toxic or anything, right?"
"Does it feel like you're being poisoned when we touch?"
Molly thought about the last time he'd touched her and shivered. "No," she said, softly.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"A little chilly, to be honest. Not too uncomfortable but I'd like to curl up under the blanket and warm up a bit. I don't remember feeling chilled while I was laying down."
"The table was likely regulating your body temperature to keep it within ideal parameters to allow you to heal."
"It can do that?" Molly asked, excited.
"And many other things, besides," he said, his tone amused.
"How? What does it do? It just looks like a flat metal table."
"That's what it is, when it comes down to it. But it's not a solid table, it's made up of several million micro-field projectors. It holds the physical body stable while a medical professional directs it where to start making repairs. Combined with the bio-nano's used to enact repairs inside the body, there's hardly any need to create more physical trauma to begin correcting existing trauma."
Molly stared at him. "How's that possible?"
Mintonar looked at her and smiled. "I don't know. It was old technology by the time I was studying to be a doctor. I can tell you what it does, I can show you the basic controls of how to use it, but I have no idea how to build one or what went into inventing it."
"Oh," she said, blinking. "That makes sense, actually. I know a lot of the broad history behind some of what I use but I couldn't tell you what went into them, either."
The door to the medical bay slid open and he gestured to proceed him inside. She went in and went back to the table, looking closely at it to try and see any of the moving parts. Even the places where the arm cuffs slid in and out looked like a solid piece of metal with no openings for that kind of thing.
"Does it move up and down?" She asked, looking at the underside.
"It can. Do you need assistance getting back on?"
"Oh, yes, I guess. It's a little high for me to just jump on with the blanket wrapped like this. But mostly I just wondered how you got patients on it. Do you have to lift them? There has to be more than one of you if you're dealing with injuries, right? I know you can lift me when I'm covered but there has to be others who are too heavy, right? You're not the buffest person on the ship because you're the doctor?"
"Buff?" he asked. "That's a color, correct? Or an action? Polishing something?"
"Oh, yeah, a shade of beige, I think. And, um, something you do when you're waxing a car?" Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "But that's not how I was using it. It's got a couple other meanings, as well."
He looked at her expectantly and her flush moved to her ears.
"It means you're strong. Ripped, kinda, but with the connotation of maybe not quite so well-defined muscles? Muscles with a little padded softness on the sides, I guess."
Mintonar smiled. "Ah, a compliment, then. I assume your people prize strength and the physical appearance of it."
Molly's mouth worked a little before she nodded. "Not everybody but yeah, it's definitely a desirable trait in a mate."
"Mate? Someone you procreate with?"
If her cheeks got any hotter, she swore they were going to light on fire. She ducked her head and nodded, finding it difficult to meet his gaze. She hadn't meant to take the conversation there, certain it was an inappropriate topic of conversation, even if she'd spent more than a little time thinking about what it would be like.
He stepped close to her until the edge of his shirt bru
shed her arm. His finger slid under a strand of her hair and he rolled it between his finger and thumb. "Your mane is very soft," he told her. "And the same color as your eyes. Is that often the case with your people?"
She shook her head and looked up, her heart beating painfully in her chest. "No, not usually. Sometimes it's similar but then you'll get people with blue eyes and blonde hair, or red, and we don't get blue hair naturally."
"It can be created artificially, though?"
"Yeah, but I've never seen any that looks as nice as yours. Girls would kill to be able to get that color."
"I'd gladly give it to you, if you want."
I want, Molly thought, her mouth suddenly dry. "That's not necessary," she said, her voice breathy.
"No, I much prefer your natural color," he said, running his finger through her hair.
She shivered.
"Are you cold, Maw-lee?" he asked.
"A little," she whispered.
"Does a shiver indicate something besides being cold?"
"It can," she told him. "It can mean a lot of things."
"I suspect, Maw-lee, that the raised flesh on your arms indicates something beyond being chilled right now, as well."
"Yes," she said through gritted teeth.
He smiled and it took everything she had to keep from reaching up to stroke his face and run her thumb along his bottom lip. The fingers of her free hand reached between them and curled into the fabric of his shirt, wishing she dared to touch his flesh.
"Ah, Maw-lee, I should not wish to touch you the way I want to."
She nodded, her neck stiff with tension, wishing she could contradict him. "It's inappropriate," she said to the air between them. "And, and-"
Closing her eyes, Molly let out a shuddering breath. "And I need clothes. And I'd like to sit on something besides a metal table, even if it's not really a metal table."
Mintonar tugged gently on her hair and she looked up at him. "I will get you clothes and we will talk about what you need now that you're feeling well enough to move around on your own. Wait for me. I will return with clothing."
