Chapter 12
Chee
A spa day was exactly what the doctor ordered.
She needed that chance to relax. After these last few weeks, going through the craziness that was her life, it was basically a necessity at this point.
She left the spa facility feeling rested, rejuvenated, and shiny.
She was sure her hair, skin, and nails had never looked so good.
Part of her even wondered if the clothes Trove had purchased for her would make her look even better. She didn’t plan on going anywhere else today, but she was tempted to change back into that alien romper just because, so she could enjoy the full look for herself.
As she left – back in her sweater and jeans – however, she looked over at Trove.
He’d purchased a simple outfit for himself.
Something that could be made for him quickly so he didn’t have to keep wearing that jumpsuit.
He looked good in the deep, emerald green.
His hair, shiny and smoother than ever, was back in its high ponytail.
There was no great change to his appearance, he was basically the same as when he went in.
But his hair and skin looked better. He was smiling, and she thought maybe it looked a little more relaxed than usual.
His hands were in his pockets, and he walked with a lazy, easy lope that was deceptively casual.
She’d seen him shoot. She’d read his file.
She knew he was deadly. The harmless facade he presented was just that – a facade.
“Ready for third meal?” He asked, catching her gaze. “I’m hungry enough to eat an entire rigtail haunch.”
“What’s a rigtail?”
“Delicious, delicious meat. Very tender flesh. Actually, I want some now. Let’s find a place that sells it. I’ll show you. There’s really nothing like it.”
“Okay,” she agreed, watching as he summoned his combot – the floating robot that acted kind of like a portable computer – and brought up the holoscreen. As his fingers moved across the interface, she couldn’t help but see the lack of nails. She didn’t know why she hadn’t seen it before.
They both had scars. Scars told stories. Even if it was just a silly story of drunken foolishness, the marks left on the skin were writing that inscribed their lives. She fully believed that. Both about her scars, and everyone else’s.
And the story his scars told were a dark one. To completely lose the nail on one finger spoke of a painful accident. To have all ten be missing…
The story there went beyond tragedy. It spoke of horror. It hinted at torture. This male who smiled like he was carefree, who loped along lazily like he had not a care in the world, bore such scars that told a story beyond most people’s imagining.
Chee knew Trove wasn’t his real name. She knew his real name, Kirvan, was associated with murders he had committed at a disturbingly young age.
But there were two sides to every story, right? She wanted to hear his. She wanted him to read the story of his scars to her.
She did not intend to, she didn't want to, but she found herself interested in him. Wanting to get to know more about him.
So, she followed along as he took her to an alien BBQ joint. It wasn’t labeled that. In fact, she didn't recognize the label it did have as it definitely wasn’t written in Standard. But her nose didn't need a translation for the scents wafting out from behind the food stall.
Because that’s what it was. He hadn’t taken her to a sit down place.
He’d brought her to a tiny stall front place that served food in little disposable baskets.
The brown, sauce covered meat on skewers smelled like the best combo of sweet and spicy and she found herself coming up on her toes to try to look over the very tall counter at what they were making while Trove ordered for them.
“Rigtails are from my home planet,” Trove explained when he got two baskets of skewers – three for her and five for himself.
“They’re plains beasts that have disproportionately large tails compared to their bodies.
Really tasty blood. Rich and savory. And the meat from those tails, when cooked slowly, is so tender and delicious.
Most of my kind don’t really care for cooked meat, but I’ve been off my planet long enough that I’ve got a taste for it, and the rigtails in particular are my favorite. ”
She picked up one of the skewers – she didn't think it was made of wood, more like a rough plastic material – and sniffed at it as the two of them walked away. There were no chairs or tables, just the long walking path, but they weren’t the only people eating and walking.
The spicy smell wasn’t one she recognized, but it did tickle her nose in a tempting kind of way. Juices from the fat dripped into the basket as she took a small bite. And, as promised, the tender flesh barely needed any encouragement to come apart.
Chee made a sound deep in her throat as she chewed. Despite what the scent suggested, it wasn’t really sweet at all. Savory, umami, with a spice blend her tongue couldn’t place but certainly enjoyed. It was absolutely delicious and she hummed in approval as she took another, bigger bite.
Trove finished an entire skewer and was working on the second one before she had finished her first. It was a dense, heavy meat, and she was already sure she wasn’t going to be able to eat that third one, but she was going to give it her best try, because it was so good.
“How’s it compare to what you’ve tried so far?” Trove asked, a smug grin on his face that told her he already knew very well it didn't.
“This is amazing,” Chee admitted, smiling back at him. “And I really haven’t been paying much attention to what I’ve been eating, honestly. The food so far has been good, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not here for the food.”
“You seem to be very focused on what you are here for.”
Chee nodded and deliberately took another, big, bite so she didn't have to answer the obvious, probing not-question.
Trove didn't miss her dodge either and he chuckled. “Fair enough. Keep your secrets then. I’m only curious, I’m not trying to pry.”
Chee shook her head before swallowing and saying, “It’s not that I’m trying to keep it a secret or anything. It’s just…”
“You don’t feel comfortable telling me.”
She made a face. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he waved away her apology. “We are still, essentially, strangers. It would be odd if you did want to share every single thing about yourself with me.”
She frowned, looking at her partially eaten skewer. “But we are… mates. Right? I mean, doesn’t that mean I should want to share all that with you?”
“Being destined to be mates doesn’t mean we have to necessarily be fused to each other.” Trove shrugged, ripping off a bite of meat, fangs glinting in the light. “Besides, you don’t feel triggered to bond with me at all, do you?”
Chee winced guiltily. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because I should want to be bonded with you, shouldn’t I? I mean, that’s how this is supposed to work. I’ve read up on it. We’re supposed to take one look at each other and – boom! Instant chemistry. Or something.”
“That’s how it works for me,” Trove pointed out. “You’re human, Chee. You’re different from me. I wouldn’t feel pressured about it if I were you. I’m happy being your friend.”
Chee started in surprise, whipping her head around to look at him. “You are?”
“Naturally! I think we can be great friends. I need some competition at the shooting range. Void knows those blind fools on my ship can’t do it. Sorbet and Tebros are good, but they’re not at my level. And Rok? I don’t think he could aim if you held his arms for him.”
Chee chuckled. “You’re not mad you got hustled?”
“Hustled? Oh, you mean how you pretended to not know what you were doing so you could force me to the spa? I think I’ll live.”
Chee laughed this time. He just sounded so tragic. Dramatic. Like he truly was hanging on by a thread. He was ridiculous in the best kind of way.
Trove finished off his last skewer and, licking his fingers, tossed the basket into a chute that she recognized as trash. Or, actually, she was pretty sure it was recycling. Most everything was recycled if it could be. It just saved credz overall.
“Here. Want this?” Chee asked, holding her basket with the last skewer in it out to Trove.
He looked at it, surprised. “Are you sure? You’re full?”
Chee nodded, still holding her second skewer that still had two pieces of meat on it. And she wasn’t sure she should finish those. But she was going to. It was too tasty to waste.
“Thanks,” Trove took the basket and skewer and, in the time it took her to finish her last two pieces, ate the whole thing. He held out the basket for her to drop her empty skewer onto, then he put the whole thing in the recycling chute as she licked her fingers clean.
No napkins or anything was crazy. She wasn’t sure if that was an alien thing or if the guy at the stall just didn't give them out. But the food was good enough that she was willing to overlook their absence as she licked away the last of the grease on her fingers.
“You were right,” she said, licking her lips as she wiped her hands on her pants. “That rigtail meat is really good.”
“Right?” Trove beamed. “That’s been my favorite for a while. Almost reminds me of the good parts of home.”
“Did you grow up on your home planet?” She asked, already knowing the answer.
“I did,” he said, confirming it. “I’ve been living out in space for the majority of my life though.
It’s been so long since I’ve been to Turv, and I really have no desire to go back.
We have… Well, I’d call it an unwritten rule.
We don’t take any jobs that would bring us back to one of our home planets. It’s just better to avoid it.”
“Because you’re criminals."
He glanced at her. Still smiling. She hadn’t asked it as a question, and he didn't look offended by the accusation. He just inclined his head, letting that be answer enough.
“Does it bother you?” He asked instead.
Chee shook her head.
“Is that a human thing?”
“Huh? Is what a human thing?”
He gestured around him at the street filled with people.
Aliens of every shape, size, and color. Almost all of them taller than her.
The two of them were standing against a wall, out of the way of everyone as they all went about their business.
Shopping and eating and moving about. Few of them glanced their way, and those that did either didn't care or just seemed surprised by her. Humans weren’t the most common thing in the Coalition still.
But even those that let their eyes linger on her didn't actually stop.
It was a busy cosmos and they had work to do.
“You and my sisters,” Trove clarified. “None of you seem all that concerned with our pasts. Well, Grace was very concerned. But only initially. Once Garnet talked to her, she calmed down very quickly. I don’t know what she said to her, but it worked well.”
“Oh,” Chee said, putting her hands behind her back, leaning on the wall, staring at the ground.
“I wouldn’t say that I’m not concerned. When Hyde told me who I was going to…
Well, when he sent me out here, I was pretty nervous.
There was a good chance one of you would see me as a threat and take me out immediately.
But I figured I had a chance if I just approached you as non-threateningly as possible. You guys are killers, not psychos.”
Trove threw his head back, laughing. “That’s one way to distinguish it, I guess.”
Chee couldn’t help the smile pulling at her face. “There’s a difference. People kill for all kinds of reasons. Not all of them are bad. Some are not only justified but seen as morally right, even if, legally, it’s not. There’s nuance.”
“There’s nuance,” Trove repeated, almost incredulously, shaking his head.
“There is,” she insisted, straightening her shoulders. “I’m not here to judge you, Trove. Any of you. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
“I put a pistol to your head.”
“Yes, but you did it very nicely.”
He laughed again, this time bent over double, holding his belly. She lasted only a second before she broke as well, laughing along with him. It was, she could admit, probably the craziest thing she’d ever said.
And their laughter only built on each other.
The harder he laughed, the harder she laughed, then right back to him again.
They kept setting each other off until she was just shaking, no longer making a sound, unable to take a breath, completely trapped in the ridiculousness of it.
Her legs lost their strength, but when she would have fallen, he caught her around the waist and held her to his side.
Hand to his head, he stood them up as he tried to gather himself. She just held onto him, still lost in the laugh. At this point, she couldn’t even say that what she said was that funny. But it was the power of the laugh just catching them both and refusing to let them go.
“I did it nicely,” he repeated, stunned, setting her off again. “I don’t think anyone has ever accused me of nicely threatening their life.”
“You were practically a gentleman,” she snickered, surprised to see her hand resting on his abdomen. He had grabbed her to help hold her up, yes, but she hadn’t expected herself to hold him back.
But she was. And even as she noticed it, she didn't pull her hand away. The surprise did serve to finally dial the laughter back. She could still feel it there in her abdomen, the aftereffects of it almost tickling, but she could breathe again.
Trove was stroking her back, she realized. Softly, at first. Cautiously. Giving her a chance to pull back as he slowly built up to a full caress.
But she didn't pull back. She leaned into him more. Enjoying his warmth. The long strength of his body. He smelled good. Like new clothes and machine steel and soap. A combination that had no right being enticing, but it did because it was coming from him.
Then, she looked up.
That was a mistake. That was definitely a mistake. But it was too late because now she was trapped in the gleam of his purple eyes. And she fully expected heat, lust, desire, something. Surely, that would make sense.
But no. There wasn’t heat, just warmth. Tender, heart breaking, glorious warmth. If she was an absolute idiot, she would call it loving even.