by Casey Lea
Darsey squirmed on her back in an effort to change position without elbowing Wing in the ribs. The sliver was a fast and agile ship, primarily because it was designed for only one person. It was little more than a diamond-shaped dart and the single, contoured couch that filled the cabin was a tight fit for the couple lying awkwardly side by side. The ceiling above them was alight with views of Gratuity, the ships around it and an approaching passage point, but she was having trouble concentrating on the visual feed.
Instead, she was intensely aware of Wing beside her and of her inability to put any space between them. She sighed quietly and closed her eyes. The present situation represented their entire relationship far too exactly for comfort and she abruptly realized that she was sick of it. She opened her eyes to stare unseeing at the bright ceiling above.
“Wing.” Her peripheral vision registered movement when he looked toward her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the visuals overhead. “I just want to say...”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. Just, for everything. I really appreciate it.”
Silence fell between them again, but not for long.
“Darse...” Darsey finally turned to face Wing and both swallowed when their eyes met. “I just want to say...” he continued.
“Yes?”
“You’re most welcome, and thank you too. I can scarce believe you trusted me again.”
Darsey smiled and finally admitted something to herself, as much as to Wing. “Actually, I always trust you. I can’t seem to help it. It just happens, even when I swear it won’t. Especially when I swear it won’t.”
Wing rolled toward Darsey and kissed her. The embrace was so sudden she had no time to protest. His lips brushed hers, warm and surprisingly soft. She opened her mouth to complain, but for some reason pushed her tongue into the kiss instead.
Well, that was… delicious- no, it was weird. Definitely odd. Her only mission was to get home. Get back to Earth and warn everyone. Making out with an alien wasn’t part of the plan. Although… surely one kiss couldn’t hurt and the kres was tasty. Amazingly tasty and it was definitely his fault that she arched up against him. It just felt so-
“Ah,” Wing groaned and Darsey realized she’d bitten his lower lip.
“I’m sorry,” she tried to pull back, but he grinned against her mouth and returned for more. She started to push against his shoulders… to push him away, but her arms slipped higher, around his neck while her fingers tangled in his hair.
Thought stopped and doubt disappeared. Her world became a crazy place of contrasts. The cold of space, pushed back by the heat between them. His soft mouth and hard body. The blunt curve of his head and the sharp metallic edge of the crest in his hair.
Pain kissed Darsey’s finger. She must have cut it, but she didn’t care. She scarcely noticed and she was equally unaware of the siren that started shrieking in her ear. The only input she wanted was from Wing and he was just as committed. The alarm must have washed over him too, because he didn’t pause.
His hands curled around her waist on one side and the curve of a hip on the other, while his fronds rested lightly against her throat and cheek. Their touch made her sigh and then jump when his mind managed to reach hers. Despite the shock of that mental contact, she made no effort to escape. The intimacy simply drew her deeper.
Darsey’s body merged with his, when cells slipped past each other in an impossible way. She had never felt anything as exquisite, or as terrifying. Part of her mind was shrieking in alarm, but it was easy to ignore. She sloughed it off as simply as the annoying alert. She was only distantly aware of her passaging power and the risk it posed. No vague caution could compete with the intensity of that kiss.
It took a much more immediate peril for that. A strobing light joined the wail of the ship’s alert and Wing finally jerked his lips away from Darsey.
“Guano,” he swore against her cheek. He was somehow lying on top of her and squirmed awkwardly away. She finally managed to push back against his shoulders, but still had to unwind her legs from his before they could separate. The kres flipped onto his back and swore again at the multiple trails arcing across their ceiling.
“T’ssaa missiles,” Darsey guessed, and Wing raised a finger in assent. “But they can’t see us, can they?”
“No,” Wing agreed grimly, “which is why they’re not shooting at us. Those missiles are locked on some idiot making a panic run for passage.”
“Bad for him,” Darsey agreed, “but good for us, right?”
“Most good for us,” Wing snarled, and she looked at him in surprise. “The fool trying to run is our ch't'kar merchant,” he explained through clenched teeth. “Harrier is on that trader.”
They both looked back to the grim picture above, where the ship that Darsey should have been aboard was the target of a dozen converging missiles. It started to weave, swooping erratically through empty space, but its chances of avoiding every missile were nil.
“No, truly no,” Wing breathed in useless entreaty. However, his actions showed no hesitation as he did the only thing he could to help and dropped their ship’s protective cloak.
The guardian sliver suddenly appeared to every eye, frond and scan near Gratuity – a shooting star, burning through space at full power when Wing diverted all of the cloaking energy he could. Most of the t’ssaa missiles instantly swung toward their new target. Darsey tensed beside him, but made no protest, and he sent her mental thanks.
“No problem,” she husked, but his reply made no sense.
“We need extraction now, Free,” he said brusquely and Darsey belatedly realized he wasn’t talking to her. “Sorry about the pickup call, but we’re far from Point. We’re playing bait, so we’ll have to meet at full speed. Just open wide and leave the dock to me. And Free, be quick. We’re too warm welcome here.”
Darsey’s attention switched to the display above, where danger logos showed the approaching trails of ten t’ssaa missiles. “They’re coming fast,” she murmured, but was reassured by what she could feel where Wing’s body rested against hers.
He was perfectly relaxed and his soft chuckle sounded genuine. “No matter and no worry. Just enjoy some kres flying.”
The missiles were almost on them, and a whistling siren sounded, while the display above started to flash. Wing’s hands rose from his chest and into a new hologram floating above him. His fingers settled into each control spot and then he was still again.
The pursuing missiles were now so close that they filled the entire ceiling and Darsey had to look away, turning into her companion’s shoulder instead. She felt the ship keel over and sudden tension in Wing’s arm, then g-forces that even the damping field couldn’t hide when the ship corkscrewed through space. There was a roar and everything shook as if dragons had seized the sliver. She shuddered too and then quiet returned.
“That passed well,” Wing murmured into Darsey’s hair. “You can come out any-when.”
“Sure,” she muttered, suddenly flustered to realize that she was gripping his upper arm. “I knew we were fine. I was just having a nap.”
Wing laughed in response and Darsey managed to un-wedge herself and twist onto her back again. She studied the new images above with relief. “Harrier’s ship avoided its missiles too. They’re going to make point.” She paused and checked the data again. “Are we angling away from passage?”
“Ye. We’ll release some energy bursts to draw off pursuit from Harry, plus give Free a clear entry – ah. There he is.” A purple ship shot from passage, to flash past the ch't'kar vessel and veer toward the sliver. “Nice exit angle. Free has a good nav senior,” Wing stated approvingly, but Darsey was less impressed.
“Wing,” she interrupted sharply, “is Freefall’s ship trying to hit us?”
“I certain-sure hope so.”
43
Out of the Frying Pan
