Page 55 of Technically Abducted
Sometimes he surfaces close enough that I can reach out and touch him—trailing my fingers along his arm as he passes, or cupping his face when he stops beside me to check that I'm still comfortable. Each touch sends warmth through our empathic bond, creating a feedback loop of affection andtrust that makes the fear recede further and further into the background.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For what?"
"For not making me feel stupid about being afraid. For giving me choices. For..." I gesture vaguely at the beautiful scene around us. "For all of this."
"You're not stupid, and your fears are valid," Tev'ra says, floating on his back near me so we can maintain eye contact. "Fear of deep water when you cannot swim is logical and appropriate. Trusting enough to be here despite that fear... that's remarkable."
We stay in the pool much longer than necessary for cleaning, but neither of us seems inclined to leave. The water has washed away all traces of our earlier activities, leaving us refreshed and relaxed. More importantly, it's given us this—this quiet intimacy, this space where I can be vulnerable and Tev'ra can be graceful and we can just exist together.
"I have a confession," I say eventually, still floating with one hand on the edge and the other resting on Tev'ra's shoulder as he treads water beside me.
"What?"
"I used to have nightmares about drowning. Deep, dark water where I couldn't see the bottom, couldn't see what was down there with me." I pause, looking up at the stars. "I thought I'd have one of those panic attacks when I got in here."
"But you didn't," Tev'ra observes gently.
"No. Because even when you dive down and I can't touch you, I can still see you. You light up the darkness." I turn to look at him. "You make the scary places safe."
Tev'ra's bioluminescence flares bright enough to cast blue-green light across both our faces. "Finn..."
"I know this is temporary," I say quickly, before he can remind me of the realities we're both trying not to think about. "I know I have to go back to Earth, and you have your report to write, and none of this is... sustainable. But right now, floating here with you, I've never felt safer in my entire life."
Instead of responding with words, Tev'ra moves closer, one arm wrapping around my waist while his other hand finds the edge to help support us both. Like this, we're pressed together in the warm water, my feet nowhere near solid ground, but I'm not afraid.
"I don't want this to be temporary," he admits against my ear.
"Me neither," I whisper back.
The kiss that follows is soft and deep and perfect, made more intense by the gentle movement of the water around us and the impossibility of our situation. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his.
"We should probably get out," Tev'ra says eventually, though he makes no move to release me.
"Probably," I agree, also not moving.
But eventually, practical considerations win. Tev'ra helps me out of the pool, his hands steady and sure as I navigate the transition from water to solid ground. When we finally emerge, I realize I've spent over an hour in deep water and felt safe the entire time—something I never thought possible.
As we dry off with towels that feel impossibly soft and luxurious, I catch myself looking back at the pool with something that might actually be fondness instead of fear.
"Same time tomorrow?" I ask, only half-joking.
Tev'ra's smile is brilliant. "I would like that very much."
Chapter Sixteen
Tev'ra
As we finish drying off with the ship's thermal towels, I find myself reluctant to end this evening. The pool session exceeded all expectations—not just for Finn's progress with aquatic comfort, but for the depth of trust he demonstrated. Watching him choose connection over safety, seeing him float peacefully under artificial stars while I swam beneath him, feeling his complete faith in my presence through our empathic bond... it has affected me in ways I'm still processing.
But practical considerations assert themselves. Finn needs rest, and I should review tonight's observations for my assessment files.
"I should let you get some rest," I tell him, hanging my towel on the thermal rack. "The hydration was extensive tonight. You'll likely sleep well."
Finn nods, wrapping his towel around his waist, and I begin moving toward my sleeping quarters. The logical conclusion to our evening—return to our separate spaces, process the day's experiences in solitude, prepare for tomorrow's continued assessment activities.
"Tev'ra," Finn says suddenly.
