Page 26 of Reluctantly Abducted
Owen takes a deep breath, then another. "A little thinner, maybe? Like being at high altitude. Nothing too uncomfortable yet."
"Good. I'll continue adjusting gradually. Please report any changes in your comfort level immediately."
"Yes, sir," he says with a mock salute that I recognize as a human military gesture. "Were your brothers this methodical with their humans?"
"They were not conducting a proper assessment," I say, perhaps more sharply than intended. "Their... interactions... with their humans were compromised by emotional factors."
"And yours isn't?" Owen asks with a raised eyebrow, sinking deeper into the water.
The question sends an involuntary wave of bioluminescence across my skin. "I am maintaining proper scientific protocols," I insist, though the evidence glowing beneath my skin suggests otherwise.
"Right," Owen says, looking amused. "Very scientific pancake plans we made."
"Cultural exchange is a valid assessment parameter," I counter, making another small adjustment to the atmosphere. "How are you feeling now?"
Owen takes another deep breath. "Definitely noticeable. I can tell I'm working a little harder to breathe, but it's manageable. Nothing worse than when I was in Colorado for altitude training."
"Excellent," I say, genuinely pleased with his adaptability. "Your respiratory system appears to be adjusting efficiently. I'll make one more adjustment to bring us to Nereidan standard."
As I input the final atmospheric settings, I feel my own body relaxing. The air now contains the precise mixture I'm accustomed to on my homeworld, a composition I haven't experienced since departing for this assignment. I take a deep breath, enjoying the familiar feel of it in my lungs.
"That looks nice," Owen observes, watching me. "Your whole body just relaxed."
"This is my natural atmospheric composition," I explain, surprised by his perception. "It is... comforting to experience it again."
"I get that," he nods. "Sometimes when I was deployed, someone would cook something that smelled like home. Had the same effect, instant relaxation, even in a war zone."
He studies me for a moment, then asks, "Can these atmospheric settings be applied to the entire ship?"
"Yes," I answer, somewhat hesitantly. "The environmental controls are integrated. But the current ship settings are calibrated for optimal human comfort."
"Then change them," Owen says simply. "Set the whole ship to these levels."
I stare at him, uncertain I've understood correctly. "But the oxygen reduction—"
"You're more comfortable like this, right?" he interrupts. "Then keep it. I'm adapting fine. If I start to struggle, I'll let you know."
The offer catches me completely off guard. The idea that he would willingly adjust to my atmospheric preferences, potentially at his own discomfort, is... unexpected.
"That is... very considerate," I say, the words feeling inadequate for the gesture.
Owen shrugs, sending small ripples across the water. "It's your ship. You should be comfortable in it."
Without fully understanding my own actions, I move through the water toward him. Before I can analyze the impulse or stop myself, I lean forward and press my lips briefly against his cheek, a gesture I've seen humans perform as a sign of gratitude or affection.
I pull back immediately, bioluminescence cascading across my skin in waves I couldn't possibly control. "I—that was—" I struggle to find words, shocked by my own behavior.
Owen looks equally surprised, his hand rising to touch the spot where my lips made contact. Then, to my relief, he smiles. "You're welcome," he says simply.
But before I can fully retreat, Owen moves through the water with surprising grace. His arm slides around me, hand resting gently at the small of my back as he turns me to face him.
"Thank you," he says softly, and then he's leaning in, his lips meeting mine.
The contact sends a shock of sensation through my entire body, bioluminescence flaring so brightly I'm certain it's visible even through the water. His lips are warm, softer than I expected, and the kiss itself is gentle but unmistakably intentional.
For a moment, I forget everything, the assessment, my scientific objectivity, my reservations about humans. There is only this connection, this utterly unexpected intimacy.
Then awareness rushes back as I suddenly register our state of undress, both of us completely bare in the hydration chamber. I pull away abruptly, my skin practically pulsing with light.
