by Ruby Dixon
“It’s also dangerous,” I point out. “She has to know exactly what she’s doing or she could hurt herself.”
“Which is why I’m showing her.”
I glare at my nav. I don’t know why his presence here with her is irritating me so much. Is it that they’re sitting close, their knees practically together? Or is it that she went to him instead of coming to me? “I don’t know if I like this.”
“It’s a good thing it’s my decision then, isn’t it?” Fran says lightly. As I watch, she picks up a scanner and expertly slides it into the shaft of the blaster as if she’s been doing this all her life. He’s not wrong that she’s got the perfect hands for this, but I don’t like it. There are too many soldiers missing a finger who got careless while cleaning their blasters.
But instead of teasing her, I retort, “I’m the captain, aren’t I?”
Both Fran and Alyvos pause, looking up at me. Fran seems surprised by my terse tone, and Alyvos just smirks. He gets to his feet. “I’ll let you two work this out. Fran, come see me when you’re ready to continue your lessons.”
“Thanks.” Her tone is flat and she puts down the components on the crate in front of her, then calmly puts her hands on her knees.
I wait for Alyvos to leave, and then I sit down next to her. “We should talk.”
“Oh, we definitely should.” She blinks at me, waiting.
“I don’t want you doing this.”
“I don’t want you to have a stick up your ass, but it looks like we’re both not going to get what we want.”
Her biting retort leaves me speechless, and I stare a moment at her, stunned, before breaking into laughter. It pleases me that a second later, her own shy, slightly wry smile curls her mouth.
“Sorry,” she tells me. “I guess that was rude. I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”
“I noticed.” I can’t help but grin.
“It’s not that I’m dying to clean guns, mind you.” Fran leans forward and rubs a smudge off of the container in front of her. “I just need something to do to fill my time. I want to be useful. I can’t just wander around all day.”
“Why not? That’s what I do,” I tease. “Just wander and let my crew do the work.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just because you don’t do the same work as the others doesn’t mean that you don’t work, silly. Even I see that you stay just as busy as everyone else.”
I shrug and pick up one of the blasters. It’s been completely dismantled, and when I pick up the black-matter cartridge, it feels light. Empty, then. There’s no way she could harm herself. I should have given Alyvos more credit. “This isn’t a fun task. Alyvos hates doing this sort of thing. Ironic, since he left the military years ago but still acts like he’s expecting to go to war at any moment.”
“I figured it wasn’t fun. That’s why I offered to do it. I told him to give me something that he hated doing.”
I watch her, curious. “Then why do it?”
“So you’ll keep me,” Fran says bluntly, looking over at me. “So I’m not just sucking up all your oxygen and you’ll feel the need to dump me off at the nearest station.”
Does she truly think I would do such a thing? Has she no idea how often I reach over in the bed to caress her, only to pull back at the last minute because I don’t want to frighten her? That I’d give anything to touch her, but I don’t want her to feel like she’s being groped? Perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with how I feel. Perhaps I’m hiding it too well.
I put my fingers under her chin when she looks away, forcing her to look back at me. “Ah, Fran, my sweet. That’s a baseless worry.”
“It is?”
“Yes. I’d never dump you at the nearest station. Their docking fees are tremendously expensive.”
Her mouth purses and I can’t tell if she’s going to frown or laugh. Her eyes narrow at me and then she chuckles. “You’re joking, right?”
“I am always joking,” I say gently. I rub my thumb along the delicate line of her jaw. “I would never dump you to fend for yourself. Have I not told you that you are safe with me?”
“But it’s not just you here. It’s three other people. I’d like to think that I could have a place here, if I can’t have a place anywhere else in the universe.”
I don’t tell her that most shipping vessels—which is what the Fool masquerades as—are four-person crews. I also don’t point out that she would never blend in because of her race. I don’t want to frighten her. “We’ll figure something out.”
She gives me a worried look and then nods, pulling out of my grip.
I let my hand fall away and move a little closer to where she sits. “If you want to learn, though, I’m happy to show you how to handle a weapon properly.”
Fran seems surprised at my offer. “You will? But you just chased Alyvos off.”
“I didn’t like how close he was sitting to you,” I tell her, and then proceed to sit just as close. Before she can ask, I continue on, “I was always taught that you want to build the gun from the handle on up.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” I flash her my most disarming grin. “You want something solid to hold on to. A good grip is priceless.”
She arches an eyebrow at me and then flicks her gaze up and down my body. Perhaps she’s noticing just how close I’m sitting, then. Or maybe she’s noticing that my tail has slid around her bottom and ever so lightly hugs her from behind. I wait for her response, but all she says is, “Do tell.”
I’m pretty sure she knows I’m flirting at this point, and I’m also relatively sure she’s all right with it. Relatively. Fran is a tricky one to read. “Start with the grip,” I tell her, and offer it to her. “If you start with the barrel, you’ll be holding it and pointing it at yourself while you put it together. Dangerous. It might go off.”
“All over my chest?” she says, her words light and somehow sly.
My heart thunders. Ah, what a female. Is she flirting back? I can’t stop the grin on my face—it feels as wide as the asteroid belt we’re currently hiding inside. “Yes. Can’t have that.” I wait for her to hold the handle I’ve given her. When she takes it, I reach an arm around her shoulders, tucking her against me and correcting her grip, placing my hand over her smaller one. “Hold tight here. It isn’t like caressing a lover. The firmer the better.”
“Clearly we don’t caress our lovers in the same way,” she murmurs. “I’ve always been told a tight grip is the best.”
My cock surges at her words. I can’t believe she’s turning the tables on me. It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced, and I want to fling her down on these crates and let her show me just how tight her grip is. “Indeed. I suppose it depends on what you’re gripping.” I lean forward and pick up another piece. “This is a node. There are two of them for this particular blaster. They fit in along the frame like so.” I slide one down, then the other. “You want to make sure they’re nestled tight, because when the gun fires, it’s going to thrust hard.” My voice has dropped to a low, husky note. “So you’ll need to be ready for that.”
Fran’s breathing hard. Her long lashes flutter and her gaze is utterly focused on the half-assembled gun in our hands. “I’ll be ready.”
“Good,” I tell her softly. “The biggest piece is the discharger. This is the one that gets the dirtiest and needs the most cleaning. Most people just pay attention to this when it comes to cleaning. They pull off the discharger and make sure it’s primed and ready to go and then just continue. Not me.”
“No?” She glances up at me, her eyes luminous.
“No,” I tell her. “I’m a very thorough male. I like to make sure that everything’s as good as I can make it. If that means spending a lot more time with…nodes, then that’s what I’ll do. A properly handled node can make or break a weapon, you know.”
“I didn’t know that,” she whispers, breathless.
“It’s true. It changes everything.” I lean in closer
. I can smell her hair, floral from the soaps she uses. I can practically touch the shell of her ear with my lips, and I’m dying to move just a little closer and brush my mouth against her skin. “If your node isn’t primed, your gun won’t fire nearly as accurately. And we want everything to be…perfect.”
“We do.” Her gaze flicks up to me again. “So you always make sure the node is primed before you…fire?”
“Always,” I promise her. “I don’t believe in doing things halfway.”
She shivers. “No, you don’t seem like the type.”
“I’m the kind of male that thinks that if you want something done right, you take time with it. And I like to take plenty of time preparing things.”
Fran gazes up at me, her lips slightly parted. Her mouth is damp, and I realize she must have licked her lips. I groan low, because I want to be the one licking them. I cup her chin with my fingers again and graze my thumb over that full, sweet mouth.
“Kivian,” Tarekh’s voice blares over the com, and Fran jerks out of my arms, nearly dropping the half-assembled blaster on the floor. “Guess what.”
I clench my jaw as she gets to her feet, my tail flicking against the crates angrily. Blast. Those ooli truly do have the worst timing ever. Jth’Hnai couldn’t have planned it any better if he’d tried. I answer Tarekh through clenched teeth. “Let me guess. Our long-lost friend?”
“Yup. We’re getting readings on an ooli ship in the belt,” Tarekh says, excitement in his voice.
Finally. I look over at Fran, who stands nearby, watching me. She holds the half-assembled blaster in her hands, but her gaze is locked to my face. There’s frustration and lust written all over her pretty face.
I get to my feet, take the blaster from her, and assemble it in a matter of seconds, clicking things into place. There’s a time for seduction, and this isn’t it. “We’ll continue this later, my sweet. Until then, perhaps you should retire to my quarters, where it’s safe.”
15
FRAN
Retire to his quarters where it’s safe?
The man doesn’t know me very well, does he? The moment he takes off, I follow him. I kind of expect everyone to be at the bridge of the ship, so I’m surprised to see they’re gathering in the hallway next to one of the airlocks. The other three aliens are there, and as I watch, they strap on lightweight chest armor and arm themselves with guns—the very kind I was learning how to clean. Tarekh slides two pistols into holsters on his legs and grabs a wicked-looking club-like instrument, letting it sit on his shoulder like he’s waiting for a baseball pitch. Next to him, Alyvos touches something on his gun and it whines to life, a cartridge inside lighting up. Sentorr automatically hands Kivian a gun belt and he straps it on.
They’re all swift and efficient, and it’s clear this is something they’ve done dozens—maybe hundreds—of times before.
“Where are you all going?” I ask, when it’s clear no one’s noticed I’m even there. “What’s going on?”
Kivian pauses and gives me a stern look. “Go back to my quarters, Fran. You’ll be safe there.”
Why am I not safe here? I frown and don’t move, looking to the others for an answer.
It comes from stiff, no-nonsense Sentorr. “The ooli have located us. They’ll be looking to reclaim their cargo. We plan on stopping them.”
I gasp, a cold rush of fear moving through me. “They’re boarding us?”
Tarekh laughs. “More like we’re going to board them.”
Oh. Er. “Is that dangerous?’
“Oh yes.” His eyes gleam with excitement.
Definitely something they’ve done before. “You’re all going? Who’s going to pilot the ship?” AKA, what about me? The lone person staying behind? I look at Kivian, worried.
He finishes adjusting his gun belt and checks one last cartridge on his guns before turning to me. He moves forward and grasps my arms gently, steering me aside. I realize a moment later he’s blocking out the others with his body even as he moves closer to me and runs a finger along my jaw. “I promise you’ll be safe, little one. The ooli are terrible fighters. This won’t take long. The Fool’s on autopilot. She’s going to wait a few hours, and then if anything bad happens, she’s set to fly to the nearest station with an emergency signal. You’ll be all right.”
“Yeah, you say I’ll be all right, but you guys are packing some serious heat.” I gesture at the now-full gun belt he’s got around his waist. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” I whisper. “Can you just call this whole thing off?”
He shakes his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing with embarrassment at what I just said. “I don’t want you to get hurt” might as well be me stamping I HAVE A CRUSH on my forehead. I’ll worry about that later, though.
“I vow you’re safe here on the Fool, Fran,” he says in a low voice. “I won’t let them get to you. You’re mine now.”
Awareness prickles through my body. That’s not the first time he’s said such a thing, and I wonder what exactly he means by it. I don’t get a creepy feeling from him like I did the frog-guys. If anything, I feel…excited at what it could mean. “This isn’t the time for flirting,” I tell him. Of course, when I say it like that, it sounds just like even more flirting. God, I’m so hopeless.
“Think of it as more of a promise.”
“Do you have to go?” I bite my lip, because I know that sounds selfish, but I can’t help it. What if they all die and leave me here alone on this ship? That’s not my only worry, of course. I picture Kivian getting hurt and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“I won’t put my men in danger and stay behind,” he tells me. He strokes my jaw again, making it difficult for me to concentrate on what he’s saying. “Don’t worry about me, though, sweet Fran. I may not have had a chance to show you how good I am with a weapon, but my aim is true.” He winks. “I’ll give you a private lesson when I get back.”
“You’re seriously the most incorrigible man I’ve ever met,” I tell him, but I’m smiling. “So, what, you’re going to go over there and just kill yourself a bunch of froggies?”
“Kill them?” Kivian gives me a surprised look. “While I admit that’s an easy way out, it’s not my style. No, we’re just going to rob them of whatever crystal they have left, wipe any trace of the Fool from their records, and put the crew in stasis. Alyvos can set their ship to pilot them back to a safe place…” He grins. “In a good year or two. By then we’ll be long gone and so will the crystal. They can’t report it stolen because it’s contraband.” He chucks my chin. “Much like you, my sweet.”
I swat his hand away. “So what, I sit here and wait like the little wifey? I’d rather go with you. I can help. I can fire a gun.” Once someone shows me how. I gesture at Tarekh’s bat-like club. “Or give me one of those. I can use that.”
“You’re half the size of them, and I won’t risk the chance of one of the ooli touching you ever again.” His jaw grows firm. “You stay here.”
“Are you two going to talk all day or can we board already? We’ve already locked our ship to theirs.” Sentorr calls. “If we wait much longer they’re going to be trying to board us and not the other way around.”
Kivian grins and caresses my cheek. “Go to my rooms,” he insists, and then turns and joins his crew, pulling out his blaster. There’s a big smile on his face. “I’m ready. Let’s go say hello.”
Alyvos and the others shoot me a look, but then they march into the next chamber, the door sealing behind them. Something flashes on screen and the computer chirps out something in an alien language. I wish I still had that annoying translator bulb in my ear, because I want to know what it’s saying.
I’m here alone. Well, shit. I cross my arms and stare at the sealed portal they disappeared through, willing Kivian or someone else to return. No one does, though, and I decide I’m not going to Kivian’s chambers to wait. I sit down on the floor where I’m at. I’m going to wait right here.
I get up two seconds later, because I decide I need a weapon.
Then I’m going to wait right here.
I find a really ugly, long-looking thing that I can only assume is a vase perched on one of Kivian’s fussy-looking tables. Funny how a man that’s so overwhelmingly masculine can have such odd taste in furniture and clothing. It feels heavy, though, and solid, like it’s made of metal. I heft it and head over to the hatch, waiting. I can’t hear anything on the other side, which is frustrating. I press my ear to the door and there’s noise, all right, but not the sound of fighting or guns blasting or anything recognizable. It’s just…noise.
I don’t know what to do. I clutch my vase, terrified. They said they had it under control, but how long do things like this take? What if they’re in trouble and I’m just sitting here, holding table decorations when they could need my help?
What if Kivian needs me?
I swallow hard, an enormous knot in my throat. Worry gnaws at me, and when there’s a loud groan of metal and the Fool shifts, I panic. I don’t want to be here in space alone. I don’t want to be left behind if the others are dead.
I don’t want to be without Kivian.
The realization strikes me with the force of a hammer. I don’t have just a crush on him. I’m in love with the big idiot, ridiculous shirts and all. I love his laugh and the way his eyes gleam when he’s challenged. I love the way he looks at me just before we go to sleep. Being abandoned in space hasn’t been all that bad…because he’s been at my side every step of the way.
If I don’t have him…I don’t have anything. I wouldn’t trade his safety for a one-way trip back to Earth.
I gnaw on a fingernail, quietly freaking out. “Um, computer?” I call, curious to see if it’ll answer me, even though I’m speaking English. “Are you there?”
“What is your query?” the smooth, unnatural voice asks me.
