Chapter 12
12
I t’s fascinating watching Paul’s reactions to every stop we make on the station. I’m seeing the place anew through his eyes. He marvels for a full minute when we pass a bank of ancient filtration units, going through all the reasons why tech that old shouldn’t still be functional. I don’t have the heart to tell him that they probably aren’t functional, and whatever sparse maintenance crew this place has just hasn’t bothered to remove them. Our breathers and the meds Bret’u pumped into his system will keep him perfectly safe.
My chest aches for him when I catch a flicker of his mind wanting to curl in on itself protectively, but each time that happens, he shakes it away. A few times, when nosy aliens step too close to him and his posture tenses, I have to resist the urge to shove them away and scoop Paul up in my arms, carrying him back to the ship and away from anything that could harm him. I don’t want to strip away any sense of accomplishment he gains from this outing by jumping in and proving that voice in his head that says he’s not capable of pushing himself right.
Because he is capable. And as time passes and nothing catastrophic happens while we visit various vendors to pick up parts and supplies, I think he’s starting to understand that. He’s still scared, but manages to smile and crack a few jokes between looking around in wide-eyed terror.
Still, I can’t keep myself from taking his soft hand in mine every so often to give it a squeeze. I tell myself it’s because I want to reassure him, but I need the reassurance too. It doesn’t hurt that pleasure sparks within me every time our skin touches, and he gives me a shy smile. It’s also a good way to show my claim on this human to any aliens who might see him and consider stealing what’s mine.
Mine to protect, that is.
That’s all I’m doing. I’m keeping Paul safe when I grip his shoulder or guide him with a gentle hand on his back. That’s all I’m thinking about when I press in close as we look through vendors’ wares and let the faint scent of him cut through the musty stench of the station’s air.
I’m glad I gave Rema most of my to-do list, because it takes a lot longer to get anything done with Paul asking me questions. And aliens asking questions about Paul. And me trying to redirect the conversations back to getting the supplies I need instead of how someone can charge that many credits for a shitty used solenoid or how many credits I paid Paul for his services. I get asked his price multiple times, and each time I come up with a more outrageous answer, because I enjoy how it makes Paul blush, then laugh as soon as we’re away from the person who asked .
“Sixty thousand credits and an allowance for jewelry and designer clothes?” Paul snorts, raising a brow at me as we walk away from a grumpy nexxit vendor who asked Paul if he’d trade an hour of his services for the hydration pump replacement I was eyeing.
Needless to say, I explained to him that Paul contracted his services on a weekly basis and a second-hand hydration pump wouldn’t cover a minute of his time.
“Too little?” I ask, grinning back at him.
Paul rolls his eyes. “At least I appreciate that they asked me directly, instead of treating you like a broker. Or that everyone seems to think I’m a prostitute and not some kind of pet or slave.”
“Oh, slavery was outlawed across the Consortium centuries ago. Even in places like this, people know not to fuck around with that out in the open, because if they’re caught, they’ll end up in a prison colony for the rest of their life, doing the menial labor they thought they could force another sentient being to do for them against their will.”
Paul’s smile falters. “Isn’t that its own form of slavery, in a sense?”
I shrug. “I suppose. Though at least those people chose that path, and weren’t forced into it. They chose to strip away a person’s autonomy and liberty. They didn’t have to. There are plenty of other options out there to make credits that don’t involve being a monster. They deserve worse than a cushy prison colony.” I can’t keep the bite out of my tone.
I expect Paul to be put off by the violence in my voice, but he simply nods. “I agree.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Humans have a long history of enslaving our own people. It’s not as far in the past as we’d like to pretend it is. That kind of atrocity can never be erased, even though historians try to sanitize our past to lessen the discomfort of our collective shame.”
“Ambassador, I don’t think the Coalition would approve of you divulging such unsavory information about your people,” I tease. I like hearing Paul’s unfiltered opinions.
“They wouldn’t. I doubt they’d fire me, but I’d be reprimanded and forced to attend remedial training on ‘how to diplomatically liaise with other species’. Not that any of that matters though, since it’s likely I’ve already been fired for missing work with no notice for cycles.”
Esh’et, I hadn’t even thought about that. “I won’t let that happen.”
“I don’t know if the seladin pirate who kidnapped me gets a say in my employment status,” Paul says drolly.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.” I don’t care if I have to owe a ton of favors to my least favorite people to make it work. It’s my fault Paul is here. I will make it right.
Paul narrows his eyes at me, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “I’m seeing your delusion in action right now, aren’t I?”
“Hah! Maybe. But I have connections, so it’s not all bluster. You’ll know when I’m really being delusional,” I say, giving him a cocky smile.
Paul chuckles. “I’m not sure I want to see that.”
I check the haphazard directory of the station on my comm, then lead Paul to what is hopefully the last stop of our outing. A flickering neon sign with a blade and two circular blobs that must be a shoddy attempt at rendering pillows hangs above a shop.
Paul raises a brow as we approach. “Uh, are you getting me fixed?”
“Fixed?” I ask, unsure what he means.
My gut twists unpleasantly. Is he hurt, and I didn’t notice? Why wouldn’t he tell me? I do a quick scan of his vitals with my ocular implant, but there’s nothing wrong that I can see. If anything, he’s the most relaxed he’s been this whole trip.
“The scalpel and balls.” Paul inclines his chin toward the sign. “It was a joke. One that doesn’t translate, apparently. Fixed is what humans sometimes call it when you neuter an animal.”
Now that he’s pointed it out, those do kind of look like testes. “And that’s considered ‘fixing’ them?” I ask, furrowing my brow in mock concern. Plenty of species have pets that they sterilize for population control, but I can’t resist messing with him a bit.
“It’s just a word!” Paul sputters. “I don’t know why it’s called that. Language is weird.”
I keep my expression serious and place a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t a body mod shop. If you want to get your testicles removed, I’d advise against doing it at a place like this if you can help it.”
“What? I don’t—I like my—” he splutters, then shakes his head and groans. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Me?” I gasp in pretend horror. “I wouldn’t dare fuck with you. Well, not unless you asked nicely,” I add with a smirk.
“You’re awful.” Paul glares at me, but I can see red splotches forming where his beard meets his cheeks.
My grin widens. I shouldn’t keep flirting with him, but when he looks so flustered like that, it’s practically impossible to resist the urge. “I think you like that about me.”
“I…” Paul clears his throat loudly and turns to peer into the shop. “So what is this place, then?”
“It’s a tailor.” I move inside and gesture to a bolt of fabric. “Figured I’d get my human companion some new clothes, like I promised. ”
“Really?” Paul’s eyes go wide as he steps in behind me. “This place is… actually, not that bad.”
He’s right. It’s relatively clean and well lit, and the samples of clothing on display don’t look like they’ll fall apart at the seams the second you put them on. Practically a luxury boutique on this kind of station. I wince internally at the astronomical price that will accompany this level of quality.
“Be with you in a moment,” a trilling voice calls from behind a curtain at the back of the shop. “Feel free to look around. I have theft prevention measures in place.”
I noticed the mounted security scanners in the corners of the entryway as we walked in, but Paul looks surprised and quickly hugs his arms to his sides. “What kind of security? I don’t want to be shot because it mistakes touching something for trying to steal it.”
“Nothing so drastic,” I say, hiding my amusement at his overactive imagination by directing his attention to the arch of sensors at the entrance to the shop. “If we try to take something without paying, those will turn into a net and shock us until we pass out. An effective, if messy system, since many species lose control of their bladder when electrocuted.”
“God, really?” Paul sounds horrified.
“You don’t need to worry. I’ll pay for whatever you want. No need to resort to petty crime.”
“You don’t have to do that! I’m fine with what I have,” Paul protests.
I look pointedly at the hooded cloak he borrowed from Tari, stretched to its limit across his broad shoulders, and holes in the sides for another pair of arms he doesn’t possess. Then I let my eyes drop down to his obscenely tight pants I got from Yaz.
“Okay, fine, it’d be nice to have clothes that fit properly. But I can’t ask you to… it’s way too much.” He looks at the price label on one of the mannequins and goes pale. “Fucking hell, that’s absurd! No way. That’s way too expensive. I’ll deal with my stretch pants that squash my balls.”
“Or we could get you ‘fixed’,” I deadpan.
“That’d probably cost less,” he says, shaking his head.
A pale green aespian emerges from the back of the shop and approaches us. “Apologies for the delay. What assistance do you require?” Their translucent wings flutter slightly and their antennae twitch when they notice Paul. “A human,” they murmur, mouth falling open in shock.
“His services are already spoken for,” I say, in case that look on their face is attraction. It’s hard to tell with aespians sometimes.
“Services?” they ask, cocking their head but not looking away from Paul. Or blinking.
“Humans don’t like it when you stare.” I infuse a small warning growl into my tone.
Their wings flutter wide and they finally blink. “I apologize. I never expected a human in my shop. Hello, human. It is an honor to meet one of your kind.”
Paul blinks back at the aespian, who is almost trembling as they look at him. “Uh, it is?”
The aespian’s antenna reach toward Paul, though they don’t move closer after my warning. “Yes. Humans are incredible.”
Paul turns and gives me a helpless, bemused look. “Is there something I’m missing here?” he whispers.
I shrug, unsure about the aespian’s reaction as well. It seems harmless. Definitely better than propositioning him. Though the verdict is still out on if that’ll happen. “No clue. I mean, I think you’re interesting, but that’s you, not humans in general.”
“Your fashion,” the aespian explains. “Human fashion is fascinating. I have a number of old data tabs which chronicle past human apparel styles.” They scan Paul, and one of their antennae droops slightly. “Is this what is considered fashionable with humans now? How disappointing.”
Paul flushes. “No! I normally dress a lot better than this.”
I slide an arm around his waist, stepping closer. “It’s my fault. I’m a very vigorous lover and his exquisite human clothing was a casualty of my passion. Hence why we’re here.”
Paul grows even redder, and I expect him to sputter out a refutation, but he surprises me, giving the aespian a sheepish smile. “I can’t control them when they get like that.”
The aespian cocks their head and blinks a few times as they process this new information. “A shame.”
“Indeed, but I’m here to make it up to them. Are you up to the task? If you’re not, I can take my human lover elsewhere…”
“No!” Their wings flutter indignantly. “I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” I give them a skeptical look.
“Yes. Stay.”
I turn to Paul. “Maybe we should look somewhere else, darling. I’m not sure they understand the nuances of human apparel.”
“What? Where else would we go?” I give him a pointed look and his eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, right! That other shop… they, uh, might, um, do a better job.“
I fight back a laugh at his attempt at subterfuge. We’ll have to work on that.
I turn like we’re going to walk away and as I anticipated, the aespian takes a half-step closer, panic written in their tense posture. “I’ll provide a discount! You won’t get a better price anywhere on the station.”
“Hmm, what do you think?” I ask Paul, stroking a hand across his chest. “You know I can’t deny you anything. ”
“Th-this should be f-fine,” Paul stammers, looking at me wide-eyed as my hand trails down his abdomen.
“If you’d like to ravish your human and tear off their clothing, would you refrain from doing so until I’ve gotten their measurements?” the aespian interjects.
Paul steps back from me, clasping his hands in front of his hips. “Of course. No ravishing,” he says, his voice higher pitched than usual.
“I think I can restrain myself,” I say with a dirty smile.
For how long, I’m not sure. This outing has been surprisingly fun, but it’s only made me want Paul more. I need to figure out a way to clear my head before I really do end up ravishing him.