Page 27 of Technically Abducted
"Nereidan social structures prioritize efficient information exchange. Meals typically serve specific functional purposes—nutritional requirement fulfillment, formal diplomatic protocols, assessment procedures." I hesitate, then add, "We do not often sit together and simply share meals once we leave our families. This is something unique."
Finn's expression softens. "I'm glad it's with me, then."
The simple statement creates a warmth that has nothing to do with the soup's temperature. I find myself studying Finn's face—the genuine pleasure he derives from our shared experience, the absence of his usual defensive humor, the way he looks at me as if I'm more than just an assessment subject or protocol-bound researcher.
"I'm also... glad," I say carefully, the admission feeling both risky and necessary.
We finish our meal in continued comfortable silence, and I find myself reluctant to suggest returning to assessment procedures. This interlude has provided data points Ihadn't anticipated—insights into human care-demonstration behaviors, the significance of shared experiential bonding, the possibility that protocol deviation might produce superior outcomes to strict adherence.
"This was really good," Finn says, reaching across the table for his water. His elbow catches the edge of his soup bowl, tipping it toward him. The remaining contents spill directly across his chest and shirt.
"Shit!" Finn jumps up, looking down at the spreading stain. "That's going to be uncomfortable."
I stand immediately, my training in emergency response protocols activating before I fully process the situation. "Are you injured? The thermal content could cause tissue damage—"
"No, no, it's fine," Finn says, pulling the fabric away from his skin. "It wasn't that hot. Just messy." He looks down at himself ruefully. "I should probably get out of this shirt before it stains permanently."
Without hesitation, Finn grasps the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head in one fluid motion.
My bioluminescence responds instantly.
The golden patterns that had been subtle during our conversation suddenly flare to brilliant intensity across my skin. I can't suppress the reaction, can't even attempt to control it as Finn stands there, bare-chested, casually examining his stained shirt while apparently oblivious to the effect his state of undress has on my physiological systems.
"The cleaning systems aboard the ship should be able to remove the stain," I manage to say, though my voice sounds strained even to my own hearing.
"Great," Finn says, then glances up at me. His expression shifts as he notices my bioluminescence. "You okay there, Blue? You're lighting up again."
The direct observation of my reaction should embarrass me. Instead, it creates an unexpected surge of something that might be anticipation.
"Nereidan bioluminescence responds to various stimuli," I explain, which is technically accurate but completely inadequate to describe the current situation.
"Various stimuli," Finn repeats, and there's something almost teasing in his voice. "Like what kind of stimuli?"
Instead of responding, I find myself studying the way the artificial lighting plays across his skin, noting the lean muscle definition that suggests regular physical activity despite his sedentary work environment. A droplet of soup clings to his collarbone, and I experience a sudden, inappropriate urge to lean forward and taste it. To trace my tongue along the line where the liquid has touched his skin.
The thought sends another surge of bioluminescence across my skin, bright enough that even I can see the reflection in the polished surfaces around us.
"Seriously, what's got you all lit up, Blue?" Finn asks, grinning now.
I attempt to take another spoonful of soup to buy myself time, but it goes down wrong and I end up choking slightly, my composure completely deteriorating.
"Come on," Finn presses, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "You can tell me. I'm kind of your prisoner for the next few days anyway. Why start having secrets now?"
"Tasting you," I mumble into my bowl, the words barely audible.
"What?" Finn leans closer. "I didn't catch that."
The proximity makes everything worse. I can feel heat radiating from his bare skin, and my control finally snaps completely.
"Tasting you!" The words come out sharp, almost aggressive in their honesty.
I immediately freeze, stunned at myself for the admission. My bioluminescence flares so bright it's almost blinding.
Finn just stares at me for a moment, his expression unreadable.
Then he cracks up laughing.
"Damn, Blue," he says between chuckles, "I never thought you'd actually admit to that."
