DATE NIGHT
It had been one of the longest I’d had since I joined the crew of this ship, and I was dragging. But her voice in my mind was an immediate shot in the arm.
I commed, hopping onto the elevator.
I smiled.
Every time I saw her, every time her head turned toward me and her eyes found mine, from that first night on the CAK to right now as I walked into our favorite Venusian pub, every single time it ruined me. My breath stalled out in my lungs, my heart stuttered beneath my ribs, my skin hummed, buzzed, my soul wanting only one thing, to be closer, to fall into her orbit, to be a satellite faithfully circling her until the stars burned out. But tonight, while her luscious lips curved, while she crooked a finger, beckoning me to the back booth where she’d been waiting for me to show up for date night, the effect was a single missed heartbeat shy of cataclysmic.
I had seen such beauty in my life. The black basalt cliffs rising sharply over Venus’s Crystal Lake. The sun setting behind the Great Dunes of Neptune, its orange light glinting across windswept particles of sand like a million fireflies flickering at once. But I’d never seen anything as beautiful as Sunastara Nex.
“Rough day?” she said when I reached our booth.
“Not anymore,” I replied, sliding into my seat after undoing the button that held my suit coat closed. “How are you? You look radiant.”
Sliding her hand across the table while a blush slid across her cheeks, she said, “Tell me.”
I took her hand in mine, running my thumb over her indescribably soft skin. “About my day?”
She nodded. “You look shaken.”
I was, for certain. But it had nothing to do with where I’d been for the last three hours, and everything to do with the woman sitting across from me. Leaning forward, close enough that her scent hit me—citrus mixed with the sweetness I could never quite place until I unpacked her body lotion after we moved into a bigger pod together last week. Honeysuckle. “The butter fountain at the seafood counter on the lido deck malfunctioned.”
She only frowned, waiting for me to elaborate.
“It shot out a geyser of drawn butter until there was a river of the stuff across the floor. Which then cooled, congealing into a dairy-fat slip and slide. That, in itself, was unfortunate. But it was the party of fifteen Vorpols stranded on the other side of the butter river that required full-scale intervention. Every time they tried to hop across it—” I made a swoop and splat motion with my other hand—“they slipped and fell. Over and over. It was ridiculous.”
She was laughing now. “Oh gods.”
“It took the maintenance crew over two hours to make it safe enough for Vorpol evac. And poor Dr. Semson will be treating bruised butts and strained backs for the rest of the night.”
“Do you need a drink?”
I gave her a slow, lopsided smile. “Not as much as I need a kiss.”
I was prepared for a lean across the table, a quick brush of her lips over mine. And I would have been happy for it. But she took pity on me, swinging into my side of the booth and grasping my face in her warm, sweet hands for a real kiss. It was magic, the stress of my day lifting miraculously from my shoulders. After the kiss, and then a whiskey neat, all was right with the worlds. Until Sunny tried to stand to go to the bathroom and slumped back into her seat, her face paling.
“Sweetheart,” I said, my heart rate spiking as I steadied her with my hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said weakly. “I think I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
“Do you want to go?” I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead. “You’re a bit warm.” Was she getting sick? How sick?
“I’m fine, darling,” she reassured me with a brittle smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll feel better after we eat. Although food hasn’t been my best friend lately either.”
Lately? “How long have you been feeling like this?”
“Not long.” She waved me off. “Let’s order some food.”
Trying to settle the tempo of my pulse, I said, “Should we order it to go? Eat it back in our pod?”
“No, no. In fact, I’m feeling better already.” She picked up her martini, eyed the skewered olives through the glass, then set it back down again. “On second thought, maybe I do need to lie down.”
While my sweetie was many things, someone who left a drop of martini in her glass was not one of them. “Good idea,” I said, paying our tab through my VC while I followed her out of the booth. “I can get you some ginger ale and crackers from the buffet—” Without warning, she fell back into my arms. “Or we can get you to the doctor right fucking now.”
While I ushered her from the restaurant, she said, “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”
I commed Dr. Semson, then I kissed her temple and said, “Just to be on the safe side.”
he commed back, sounding exhausted.
“Dr. Semson is waiting for us,” I told her as we reached the elevator bank. I pressed the down button about fifteen times, praying for the car to arrive. “Everything will be fine. It’ll be okay.”
“Freddie, there’s nothing wrong with me,” she insisted. “You’re overreacting.”
“I probably am,” I agreed when the car finally arrived. “Humor me.”
“This is silly,” she told me, nestling into my side while I mashed my finger into the button for the med bay. “But all right.”
Dr. Semson opened his door the moment we arrived, purple circles tingeing the blue skin under his eyes. “Come in,” he said, stepping aside. “On the table, please.”
I could feel Sunny’s eyes roll. “There is nothing wrong with me,” she said, but she let me help her up onto the exam table. “I’m just tired.”
Slinging his stethoscope around his neck, Dr. Semson stepped toward Sunny, paused, opened his mouth, closed it while tilting his head, then asked, “How long have you been feeling tired?”
“A couple of weeks,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve been working a lot and still recovering from, you know, being kidnapped.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” he said calmly while I let go of Sunny’s hand to sit in the seat he pointed to. Actually, he snapped at it, like I was a puppy. Turning around, he filled a small cup with water from his sink.
“Thanks?” I said, a little confused when he gave me the water instead of Sunny. “But shouldn’t you—”
“So, you’ve felt tired for the last couple of weeks,” he repeated, circling the table, squinting at her back. “Any other symptoms?”
She looked over her left shoulder, then her right, trying to track his trajectory around her. “I haven’t been very hungry,” she muttered suspiciously.
“No appetite?” he asked. “Or have you felt nauseous when you eat?”
“Have you felt nauseous?” I asked, scooting to the edge of my chair, my mouth going dry. “You haven’t complained about it.” Not that she ever complained about anything.
“That’s because it’s nothing,” she told me. “Just an upset stomach.”
Stopping in front of her again, drawing his silver brows together over his bright blue eyes, Dr. Semson tugged on the ends of his stethoscope and asked, “Any breast tenderness?”
Breast tenderness? My heart stopped beating. Even though there were cures now for nearly all cancers, better tolerated and more effective treatments, I couldn’t handle the thought that—
“Some,” she replied softly. “But only in the mornings.”
“Sensitivity to smells?”
I swear she turned green right in front of my eyes. “Chan’s cologne. It’s unbearable.”
“Sunny,” Dr. Semson said, dire as a priest. “When was the last time you had your period?”
She didn’t answer. Why did he ask her that? What did it mean? Was that some sort of symptom? Maybe it was just menopause. Some women started that in their early forties, didn’t they?
“Darling, I think you should sit back down.”
I blinked at Sunny, then glanced down at the floor beneath me. I had no recollection of standing up, but there I was, on my feet, intensely woozy, wondering if what she had might be contagious while Dr. Semson snapped me back into my chair.
“Is it?” Her eyes misted over while her gaze shifted from me back to the doctor. “Is it possible?”
“I could test you,” he said, taking her trembling hands in his. “But empaths are rarely wrong about these things.”
“What is it?” I asked with a desperate, broken voice. “What’s wrong with her?” Would it take her away from me too? I couldn’t bear it. I wouldn’t survive it.
After a silence as deep as the Senasar Sea, Dr. Semson gave Sunny a smile. “Nothing is wrong with her,” he said before turned to me, changing the course of my entire existence with two words: “She’s pregnant.”
“She’s what?” I shot to my feet again. “How?”
“Well, Freddie. When two beings love each other very much—”
“I’m on the pill,” I wheezed, slamming my hand over my chest, grinding the heel of my palm over my galloping heart.
“Hey. I haven’t been with anyone else,” she said with a scowl, misreading my concern.
“Oh, sweetheart. That’s not what I meant. I just…how? How are you pregnant?”
Picking a prescription pad up from his counter and scribbling something down, Dr. Semson said, “The pill for males is only 99% effective. And that drops significantly with repeated, uh, exposure in a short amount of time. Which is a thing that often happens with a new relationship. Any chance you two—”
“Podgate,” Sunny and I said at the same time.
“Riiight. I forgot you two were there that day.” He scratched his head, ruffling his silver hair. “I mean, that’ll do it.”
The room spun in a chaotic spiral, time compressing to a pinprick before expanding until it encompassed every moment before now and every moment after. Until it hovered over this one, etching this moment into my memory, writing it into my history. Into our history.
In this moment, in our moment, gazing down at her belly while a tear tracked down her cheek, Sunny whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
And then the entire world went dark.
“Freddie.” Soft hands cradled my face. “Darling, wake up.”
“Here, let me,” a deeper voice said.
Something snapped, the most wretched smell flooding my senses, burning my nose, making my eyes spring open.
“There he is,” Dr. Semson said, standing over me with Sunny by his side while they fanned my face. “Welcome back.”
“You’re pregnant,” I said, the only words that came to me, the only words that mattered while I gazed up at my love, my life. She was so bright I nearly shielded my eyes. She was so bright I could only bask in her. I couldn’t believe it. I could not believe it. I never dared to dream, never even hoped.
“Don’t cry.” She sank to her knees beside me. “Please don’t cry.”
I didn’t realize I’d been crying. But she was crying too. Even Dr. Semson had to turn away, wiping his eyes while I sat up, took her in my arms, and held her as tightly as I dared.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked, pacing around our pod after I picked up her prenatal vitamins and special pregnancy anti-nox tabs from the pharmacy on deck six. “Do you want some water? Or maybe… Oh, wait.” I spun around, rifling through the white pharmacy bag. “I got you these ginger chews. The bionic behind the counter said they were good for morning sickness. Here.” When I turned back to her, she’d moved to the window, staring out at the stars passing us by, her hand covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
Placing the chews back on the table, I went to her. “Are you okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down her arms. We hadn’t processed any of this yet. We hadn’t had time. Maybe she was scared. Maybe she didn’t even want another child. The second the words had left Dr. Semson’s lips, I’d known with a sudden, soul-deep certainty that I wanted this child more than I’d ever wanted anything. But it was her body. It was her choice. “Do you want to talk about—”
Dropping her hand, wheeling on me with a smile brighter than the stars shining behind her, she threw her arms around my neck. I thought she’d been crying. But she’d been laughing.
“Thank you,” she said into my neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I said, “For what?”
“For knocking me up.” Her laughter trilled through our pod, pebbling my skin. “I was thinking I’d ask you eventually. Maybe a year from now, two years. But maybe I wouldn’t have. I’m not young anymore. I might not have wanted to risk it. I might not have had the courage.”
Joy infused my cells. “And now our path is set.”
“Fated,” she said, her voice low, like it was a secret. Then she pulled away, her gaze searching my face. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Are you okay with—”
“Sunny”—I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear—“I have never been this happy or this excited in my entire life.”
“Really?” A vast universe of hope glittered in her eyes.
“I’ve always wanted children,” I told her. “But I didn’t think I’d ever have them. And to have a child with you.” My vision blurred, hot tears stinging my eyes, emotion thick in my throat. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how destiny has led me here, to you, to this life. I don’t understand how I’ve gotten so lucky.”
“I don’t understand it either.” She started laughing again. “But I’ll take it.”
“Stars above, I’ll take it too.” I slipped my hand over her cheek, slid it back to cradle the nape of her neck. “I’ll take every single second of it, for as long as we both shall live.”
“For as long as we both shall live,” she repeated. And then I lowered my lips to hers, pouring every ounce of love in my body into the kiss, hoping that the tiny soul already growing inside her might feel it and know that they would be adored and cherished and loved just as much as I adored and cherished and loved their mother. Because any more than that would be impossible.
The kiss eventually ended, as they always did, and she said, “Everything is about to change, Freddie. Our lives are about to change forever.”
Pulling her back into my arms, I pressed my lips into her hair and said, “I know. And I can’t wait.”
Thank you for reading this bonus story.