Page 63 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
"Extremely immediate," Fin agreed. "The situation is quite... urgent."
Reese bit back a smile.
Red stood, her movement fluid. "I suppose I should go deal with this... technical emergency."
"That would be best," Fin said, relief in his voice. "Sparky's getting quite... worked up about the whole situation."
"I'm sure he is." Red's tone was dry as dust. She turned back to Reese, something like an apology in her unusual eyes. "We'll have to continue this conversation later."
"Of course," Reese replied, fighting to keep her expression neutral. "Technical emergencies take priority."
Red shot her a look. "Indeed. Very... pressing technical emergencies."
Fin cleared his throat. "We should really hurry. Before things get... worse."
"Right." Red moved toward the door, then paused to look back at Reese one more time. "But this conversation isn't over."
"I didn't think it was," Reese replied.
Red nodded once, then followed Fin out of the communications room, leaving Reese alone with her thoughts.
The door slid shut behind them, and she heard their conversation fading as they moved down the corridor. Whatever Red had been about to say about "someone like you" would have to wait until after the supposed temperature emergency was resolved.
Reese leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with amusement. Aliens or not, some things never changed. Protective daughters. Horny husbands making up excuses.
Some things, apparently, were universal across species lines.
16
The galley hummed with the comfortable chaos of a family dinner. T'Raal settled into his usual spot at the main table, very aware of Reese beside him as she chatted with his crew. Her left shoulder pressed against his arm when she leaned forward to respond to something Skinny said, and the casual contact sent heat racing through him.
It'd been three days since they'd become lovers, and he still wasn't used to having her this close in public… how she thought nothing of just taking the seat next to him, or brushing her fingers against his as she reached for the salt. Little things that said more than words ever could.
"The neural stimulator's working better than expected," Tal said to Reese as he cut into his steak. "The range of motion in your left leg has improved much more than I expected."
"Feels like it." Reese flexed her foot under the table, the movement bringing her thigh against T'Raal's. "I can actually walk without planning each step three moves ahead."
"That's good progress," Eric said from across the table."How's the coordination? Fine motor control? Perhaps weshould look at the neuro-transmitter pathways," he commented to Tal. "See if we can retro-engineer something to help there."
Reese picked up her fork with her left hand, the movement smooth and controlled. "Better. Not perfect, but functional."
T'Raal watched with satisfaction. She was improving daily. He reached for her free hand, threading their fingers together on the table where everyone could see.
The gesture drew attention he hadn't intended. Conversation paused for just a moment, crew members exchanging glances with amused looks.
"Aboutdraanthingtime," Red muttered.
"Language," Marika chided, with a smile.
"What? It's true." Red gestured toward them with her fork. "Dad usually walks around looking like someone kicked his favorite pets. Now he looks... content."
Heat crawled up T'Raal's neck. "I don't look content."
"You look content," Sparky confirmed cheerfully. "Relaxed. Like someone who's getting regular?—"
"Sparky," T'Raal cut him off with a warning growl.
"—sleep," Sparky finished with an innocent expression. "I was going to say sleep."
