Page 23 of Accidentally Abducted

He looks surprised that I've picked up on it. "Yes. Among other things."

"Look, Zeph, I know our time is running out. I can do basic math, seventy-two hours means I'm going home today, right?"

He nods, looking uncomfortable. "The transportation cycle becomes reversible in approximately sixteen of your hours."

"Sixteen hours," I repeat, and the number settles in my stomach like a stone. "Well, that doesn't leave us much time for whatever else is on your alien assessment checklist, does it?"

"The remaining assessments are primarily administrative," Zeph says, his voice carefully neutral. "Documentation, final evaluations, recommendation protocols."

"Recommendation protocols," I echo. "And what exactly will you be recommending? That humans make good pets? That we're worth keeping around for our entertainment value and oral skills?"

It's a deflection, using humor to mask the sudden anxiety coiling in my gut, and from the way Zeph's expression softens, I think he knows it.

"Jake," he says, moving closer until he's standing directly in front of me. "The recommendations are far more significant than that. They will determine whether my people pursue further contact with humans, whether we seek formal diplomatic relations, whether we..." He hesitates. "Whether we offer partnership opportunities to your species."

"Partnership opportunities," I repeat, trying to parse what that might mean. "Like... more abductions? Because I have to tell you, the selection process could use some work."

That gets me a genuine smile, brief but real. "The selection process will indeed require refinement."

I study his face, searching for clues about what he's not saying. "This is really important to you, isn't it? Not just as a job, but... personally."

Zeph is quiet for a moment, and I can see him weighing how much to tell me. "My people are... few," he says finally. "Our population has been declining for generations. The compatibility program represents our best hope for a future that includes more than mere survival."

The admission stuns me into momentary silence. Suddenly Zeph's dedication to his "job" takes on a whole new meaning. This isn't just some alien research project, it's about the survival of his entire species.

"Jesus, Zeph," I say softly. "That's... that's a hell of a burden to carry. Especially when things went sideways with the whole 'wrong human' situation."

"It was not your error," Zeph says immediately, protective even now. "The research team provided incorrect coordinates."

"Still." I reach out, resting my hand on his arm and feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric. "No wonder you've been stressed about this whole thing. You're basically responsible for deciding if humans are worth... what, an alliance? Integration? Interspecies dating?"

"All of those," he confirms, and I can feel through our strengthening empathic connection that the weight of responsibility is exactly as heavy as I've imagined. "The Council will make the final determinations, but my recommendations will carry significant influence."

"And what will you recommend?" I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer. "About humans, I mean."

Zeph meets my eyes directly. "That remains to be determined."

It's not the answer I was hoping for, but it's honest. I can feel the conflict in him, the duty to his people warring with whatever this is between us.

"Well," I say, letting my sheet slip a little lower on my hips in a deliberate tease, "maybe I can help influence your recommendation. I still have sixteen hours to make a good impression, right?"

The glow under Zeph's skin brightens at the suggestion, and I can feel the shift in his attention, from distant and formal to intensely focused.

"You have already made quite an impression," he says, his voice dropping to that lower register that sends heat straight to my groin.

"Hmm, but first impressions can be misleading." I move closer, letting the sheet fall away completely. "Maybe you need more... data."

Zeph's eyes darken to molten gold, and the glow beneath his skin spreads down his neck and chest. "Additional research would be... thorough."

"Very thorough," I agree, stepping into his space until we're almost touching. "And I believe there was a specific area of inquiry we hadn't fully explored yet."

"There was?" Zeph's voice is rough now, his formality crumbling under the weight of desire that's flowing through our empathic connection.

"Mmmm," I murmur, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "I've been thinking about something. About us. About what it might feel like to have you inside me. Fully."

The sound Zeph makes is closer to a growl than anything human, and the next thing I know, I'm being lifted off my feetand carried back toward the bedroom with a strength that makes my breath catch.

"Data collection begins now," Zeph says against my ear, and despite everything, the countdown, the uncertainty, the knowledge that in sixteen hours I'll be back on Earth and all of this will be over, I find myself laughing.

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