Page 28 of Wanted By the Alien Warden

Or unexpectedly punched in the face.

“What’s the matter, Warden?” Fallon asked with concern. He crossed to the warden and slapped him on the back. “Is therea bit of bracku bone caught in your throat? Here! Open your mouth and I will check!”

“What? When have I ever required one of you lot to look inside my mouth?” Warden Tenn rasped, glaring at Fallon. “And you,” he growled, aiming his tail accusingly at me. “Just… Keep your clothes on. I’ll be back.”

He turned on his booted heel and swept out of the room. Fallon remained, looking like he wanted desperately to stay and chat with us about whatever the hell had just happened.

But unfortunately for him, a purple tail snapped back into the room, seized sharply upon Fallon’s belt, and then proceeded to haul him out the door.

9

TENN

“Ineed to make Tasha clothes. Or a suit of some sort. Or a dress. Or… Blast. What do humans wear to sleep?”

I had read extensively about human wedding attire, but had not yet found out anything about sleeping attire.

Maybe there was no sleeping attire.

Maybe they all slept naked. All the time.

Empire help me.

“They wear pyjamas!” Fallon said cheerfully as I pulled him through the kitchen and past Silar.

“That cannot be a real word,” I grumbled, finally releasing him.

“Oh, it is! Although, sometimes I believe they are instead called ‘jammies.’”

“That also cannot be correct,” I snapped, “because that is translating into something akin to a sweetened, puréed fruit spread. Although, Tasha also called me a ‘nacho man’ earlier, and my preliminary research tells me a nacho is a type of savoury, crunchy human snack. Often topped with cheese.”

“Humans do love cheese,” Fallon agreed sagely, as if this was some obvious and universal truth that I, too, should have already been aware of.

Fallon was easily one of the kindest men in this province, if not the entire colony. I had not, however, ever considered him to be one of the wisest.

Perhaps I’d need to adjust my view of him in this area.

Unlike me, Fallon had been married to a human woman for some time now. He’d spoken with her, eaten with her, spent time with her every single day.

Shared his bed with her every single night.

Her and her… jammies.

“Do you have extra fabric that would be suitable?” I asked. “I have some at my station, but I don’t have time to ride all the way there and back tonight.”

If I did that, then by the time I returned here, the sun would have already risen.

And Tasha would have spent the night without said jammies.

Naked.

Blazes. Had the crotch of my pants always been this tight?

“I will pay for it, of course,” I added quickly. “I’ll transfer the credits into your account.” The men worked hard out here, cultivating their herds for the empire in order to earn their credits. Anything they could not grow or otherwise create themselves, they had to order for delivery, and that did not come cheaply.

“Oh, that is not necessary, Warden,” Fallon said, giving me a broad smile and leading me towards a closet at the end of a hall near what I assumed was the bedroom he shared with Darcy. “I am happy to share my fabric with you so that you may make something for Tasha. Like I told her on the call before she arrived, I owe her a great deal. Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you, Fallon,” I said, knowing I’d still put the credits in his account all the same. “Now, what general shape are they? These pyjammies.”

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