by Tasha Black
“Wait, what?” Dirk asked. “Do you think I’m interested in Beatrix?”
“We are men of action,” Buck said. “Lies do not become us.”
“Man, I’m not lying,” Dirk replied. “She’s not my type. And besides, she doesn’t see me that way. At all.”
“She’s casting you as the romantic lead, of course she sees you that way,” Buck said.
Dirk let out a hearty laugh that stopped Buck in his tracks.
“Dude, I’m playing the dad,” Dirk said. “Though I’m flattered that you think I’ve still got it. Whatever it is these days.”
Buck studied the man for a second, noting the sincerity in his voice, and the lines around his eyes that certainly hadn’t been there in the movie they had watched.
“It’s not the age, it’s the mileage,” Buck replied.
“Tell me about it,” Dirk chuckled.
They had made it to the hallway outside the convention hall. Sunlight streamed through the huge glass windows overlooking the Inner Harbor.
“Sit down, buddy, please,” Dirk said. “I’ve got Esther’s cell number, for whatever good that will do you. You don’t have to chase after her like this.”
“This is heavy,” Buck said, sinking onto one of the benches overlooking the water.
Dirk sat down beside him.
“Listen,” Dirk said after a moment. “I know this is hard for you.”
“Please forgive my manners,” Buck said. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“It was nothing,” Dirk said. “Emotions are a powerful thing. And your frustration is understandable, especially considering who you are, and where you’re from.”
Buck stole a glance at Dirk. Surely he had misunderstood. The man couldn’t know what he was. Beatrix would not have told him.
“You might not know this, but I once played Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective, in a television mini-series,” Dirk said. “I’m a method actor. Do you know what that means?”
Buck shook his head.
“It means that I do a lot of research on my characters and I try to live as them during the duration of a production,” Dirk explained. “Not just while they are filming me, but most of the time.”
“That sounds… complicated,” Buck said.
“Why? We are all playing roles, every moment of every day,” Dirk explained. “Right now, I’m trying to play the role of a decent guy who helps out two nice kids. And you’re trying to play a regular person instead of a man from another planet.”
The reality hit Buck like a punch in the stomach.
“H-how did you know?”
Please don’t let Bea have told him. Please don’t let her have told him…
“Observation, my dear boy,” Dirk said with a pleased grin. “I learned it while playing Holmes. Do you want to know specifics?”
Buck nodded, unable to speak.
“It begins with the handshake,” Dirk said.
“I didn’t do it properly,” Buck chastised himself.
“Not at all,” Dirk said. “You have a firm grip and a great shake. But you don’t have any calluses. At least not the kind you would have if that body had endured a lifetime of action.”
“Oh,” said Buck. “That was all?”
“Of course not,” Dirk told him. “There are plenty of explanations for the lack of calluses. I saw other things too.”
“Like what?” Buck asked.
“Well, for one thing you’ve quoted three eighties movies since we started this conversation,” Dirk said. “And then there’s the matter of Beatrix.”
“What do you mean?” Buck demanded.
“I mean I’ve never seen a man look at a woman like that,” Dirk said softly. “You guys have a mate bond, right? It’s stronger than anything we have on Earth.”
“Oh,” Buck said. “Yes. Yes, that’s true.”
Dirk began to chuckle.
“Why are you laughing?” Buck asked.
“You know I hadn’t fully put it together when I had lunch with Bea yesterday,” Dirk replied. “No wonder she looked shaken when I told her to aim for the stars.”
Buck merely stared at him, wondering how soon his secrets would be spilled.
“You don’t need to worry,” Dirk said. “I won’t tell anyone. I just thought it might help you to know that I already knew.”
“I need your help,” Buck heard himself say to the other man.
“What do you need?” Dirk asked.
“I need advice,” Buck said. “I overheard Esther Martine say that she would be willing to fund ten art house movies if she could get her hands on an exclusive from an alien.”
“That sounds like something she would say,” Dirk said fondly.
“So, I’m thinking of offering her my story,” Buck said. “In exchange for funding Bea’s movie.”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Dirk said, nodding vigorously. “But are you sure Beatrix would want you to do that? She strikes me as the kind of person who likes to fight her own battles.”
“She is,” Buck agreed. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t help give her a fighting chance.”
“Fair enough,” Dirk agreed, slipping his phone out of his pocket.
He jotted down a number on a card with his own face and handed it over to Buck.
“That’s Esther’s number,” he said. “Just don’t call her until you’re one hundred percent serious. That woman means business. I wrote down the number of a big blogger too - you might mention what’s going on to both sources at once - get you bigger results. Do you have a cell phone?”
Buck shook his head.
“Take my spare,” Dirk said, offering him a phone. “Just don’t use it to phone home.”
Dirk winked.
“Thank you, Dirk Malcolm,” Buck told him with feeling.
“Don’t mention it, kid,” Dirk said, patting him on the back. “Take care of yourself.”
Buck watched as the older man strode down the hallway.
Then he closed his eyes and reached out to his brother, Bond. Before he made any calls, he needed Bond’s blessing.
Though a great many miles separated the two of them, he could feel the stirring of Bond’s mind inside his at once, like sand shifting in an hour glass.
I know the only thing you asked of me was to hide myself, Buck began. But I love her. And she needs this.
21
Beatrix
Beatrix walked down the hallway with her friends, trying not to scour the crowd for Buck, and failing.
Solo must have noticed her eyes scanning the faces.
“Buck is still at his tournament,” he told her softly. “He wanted to see your panel. But the tournament must not have finished in time.”
“Thanks,” she said, not bothering to deny that she had been looking for Buck.
Solo gave her a sad smile.
Bea wondered what was happening with him and Cecily. Kate and Kirk had obviously been destined for each other, and though Bea and Buck might be more star-crossed than fated, the attraction was certainly there.
But Solo and Cecily seemed to have a sturdy friendship, with no sign of romance at all. She wasn’t sure if that was mutual or if Cecily was keeping the big alien at arm’s length on purpose.
“Hey, writer-lady,” Dirk Malcolm called to her from across the corridor. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
“I need to talk to him, guys,” Beatrix muttered.
Cecily nodded to her and the group walked on.
She jogged over to Dirk, shaking her head.
“I heard about the real alien thing,” Dirk said before she could explain about Esther. “I think it’s great and I’m totally onboard.”
“What?” Bea asked.
“Buck told me,” Dirk said. “Man does he care about you. He’s making the calls now so you might want to be ready.”
“What calls?” Bea asked.
“You know, to Esther Martine. I suggested he reach out to a blogger friend of mine
as well, just to get a little buzz going,” Dirk said. “Martine’s going to flip at the chance to get an exclusive with a real alien. There’s no chance she won’t fund your movie now.”
The truth descended on Bea at once and she felt the air go out of her lungs with a whoosh.
Her feet began moving before her brain had fully processed what was happening.
She had to get to Buck, to stop him. He was sacrificing everything.
“Hey, where are you going?” Dirk yelled after her. “Just to be clear, whatever his exclusive is, I want to be in it.”
But Beatrix was already running faster, her shoes beating a breathless tattoo against the carpet of the corridor. Dirk had just seen Buck and he had come from this direction.
Dirk’s words echoed in her head.
Man, does he care about you…
And he did - he clearly did. Buck’s actions spoke louder than words.
The only problem was that she cared about him, too. She would never want him to give up what mattered to him just to bring her career success.
If today had taught her anything it was that without him, her career success or failure didn’t seem to matter much.
But if she didn’t catch him now, it would be too late.
A moment later she saw his big form silhouetted against the late afternoon sun coming in the big plate glass window.
Buck leaned against the glass on one arm, his other hand in his pocket. The suit made him look like the cover of a billionaire romance novel. Bea would have giggled at the idea, if she hadn’t been so relieved to find him.
“Buck,” she called out.
His brown eyes met hers and he smiled warmly.
“Oh, thank god I caught you,” she sighed. “Please don’t call Martine or that other person. I don’t want her money. I’ll find another way.”
Buck’s face fell.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Oh, Beatrix,” he said. “I already called. I’m meeting the blogger and a photographer in a few minutes.”
“Come on,” Beatrix said, grabbing his arm and tugging with a strength she didn’t know she had.
“Where are we going?” Buck asked as they burst into the crowd again.
“To the green room, to figure out how to undo this,” she told him.
“But, Bea,” he began.
“No,” she told him as they jogged between the convention-goers. “This is not happening on my watch.”
22
Beatrix
Beatrix slammed the green room door shut behind her and locked it.
Then she spun around to fix Buck in her gaze.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Kate, Kirk, Cecily and Solo seated at the mirrors. It was typical for them to hang out in here with her.
But they were about to get quite a show.
Because there was no way she could bottle up what she was about to say to Buck.
“How could you do this?” she demanded.
“I was trying to help you,” he replied calmly.
“I don’t need your help,” she wailed.
“That’s true,” he agreed. “You are a strong, capable woman. You don’t need anyone’s help. But I want to help you anyway.”
“Why?” she asked, though she knew the answer. He had been telling it to her every way he knew how since the moment they’d met.
“Because I love you,” he told her. “And because if I can help you fulfill your destiny by sharing that beautiful book with a generation of Earth’s young people, then any sacrifice would be worthwhile.”
There was a knock on the door.
Beatrix ignored it.
She gazed up into the fathomless depths of Buck’s dark eyes.
She had no idea what his life had been like on Aerie, no idea what he had held dear.
But here he was, so new to this world, with no doubt, no fear in his heart.
It was no wonder her own fears had begun to dissolve. His zest for living in the moment was infectious.
Bea had spent a lifetime balancing on a tightrope between fear and hope.
Now it was time to dive for the nets.
“Guys,” Cecily said from the door. Her eye was to the peephole.
“Not now,” Bea said.
“But—” Cecily began.
“Buck, I’ve spent my life afraid that I wouldn’t do things the right way,” Bea said. “But that ends now. I’m not letting you reveal yourself. If I can’t make the movie I’ll just write another book. All I care about is you.”
“Bea,” Buck breathed.
Suddenly the room seemed so small and his big presence so immediate. The air between them sizzled and Beatrix felt herself melting with a need for him to claim her.
“Guys,” Cecily said. “There are reporters out there right now.”
“Shit,” Kate said.
“Just one blogger, right?” Buck asked.
Cecily shook her head. “He must have owed a bunch of ‘someones’ a favor, because there are probably a dozen reporters with camera crews out there.”
“We’ll just stay in here,” Bea shrugged.
There was another knock on the door.
“There’s no back way out,” Kate said.
“But all three of you are here,” Beatrix realized looking at the alien brothers. “How can we possibly play this off as nothing when they see all of you at once?”
“Buck,” Kirk said, handing his brother an eyeliner pencil from the dressing table.
“Really, brother?” Buck asked.
“Now or never,” Kirk shrugged. “And she loves you.”
Buck looked appraisingly at Beatrix.
“What?” she asked, mystified.
Instead of answering, Buck walked over to the wall opposite the door.
There was only a tiny transom window close to ceiling height there. It was far too small for a person to fit through.
But Buck squatted in front of the wall, extended the eyeliner out in front of him and began to press it to the drywall.
Bea watched as he sketched a straight line up over his head.
“We know you’re in there,” someone shouted through the green room door.
Buck ignored it and swept the line over in an arc, then brought it down to the floor again on the other side.
It looked like… a door.
He stepped back to look at it, then, apparently satisfied with his work, he drew a circle on the right side of it.
A knob.
And before Bea’s eyes, it seemed to expand into three dimensions - the black circle sliding outward into an ivory white knob with a black plate attaching it to the white door.
“Is that…?” Bea whispered, but she couldn’t finish her sentence.
Buck was drawing hinges on the opposite side.
He straightened, turned and looked into her eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you about this before showing you,” he said. “I hope you’re not frightened.”
She shook her head slowly.
He smiled, grasped the knob, and turned the handle.
A rush of hot city air burst into the room. It smelled like exhaust and the hotdog vendor’s cart.
Buck gestured for Bea to exit and they stepped out onto the sidewalk together.
23
Buck
Buck stood on the city sidewalk, looking down at Beatrix, trying to read the expression on her beautiful face.
The summer breeze swirled around them, lifting her hair in inky ribbons. But the rest of her was stone still, shoulders squared.
Behind her, the others stepped through the door and joined them on the street.
“Are you okay?” Buck asked.
“Let’s go home,” Beatrix said. “I need to talk with you. Alone.”
“Um, we we’re going to grab some dinner,” Solo said.
“No we’re not,” Cecily said. “We’re going to fix things with Dirk’s blogger. Come on.”
She shot Buck and Be
atrix a confident wink as she turned to head back inside. He didn’t know what she had in mind, but she seemed like she had it under control.
That was good. Buck’s mind was too full of Beatrix to be much help in planning.
The others trailed off toward the main entrance of the convention center, leaving Buck alone with Beatrix.
Bea began to march down the street toward their rental. She seemed to be moving awfully quickly on those short legs of hers.
Buck jogged to keep up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” he told her. “Dr. Bhimani said we shouldn’t share our gifts until we were mated. She said it might frighten you away.”
Beatrix stopped her march.
“Do I seem frightened?” she asked.
“Well… no,” Buck said. “You seem, um, determined.”
“I am determined,” she told him with a half smile.
Then she turned and marched on.
Buck’s heart lifted as he began to understand that the reason for her pace might just be urgency, rather than fear or anger.
They had reached the lobby of the building now.
Beatrix walked briskly through the doors and pressed the button to call the elevator.
The doors slid open immediately.
They both stepped in.
It wasn’t until the doors closed again that it hit him that they were alone.
Bea gazed at him like a hungry tiger.
Buck’s instincts took over. He slammed his hands against the walls of the elevator on either side of her and leaned in to take the kiss that he knew she wanted to give.
But at the last second he restrained himself.
He had to know.
“Why?” he asked as gently as he could, sliding one of his hands from the wall behind her to caress her cheek.
“Why what?” she whispered, her eyes on his lips.
“You didn’t want this before,” he said. “You must have had your reasons. Why don’t they matter anymore? Will they matter again tomorrow?”
She looked up into his eyes for a moment.
“I had a million reasons,” she said. “I’ve never had a serious relationship and you want a mate for life. My career is taking off and falling in love is a complication. You want privacy and one day I may become a very public person. There are countless reasons why this doesn’t fit what I thought I wanted.”
