Page 38 of Alliance
You want to tie up your tresses when you charge so the strands don’t get stuck in the port.
Use oils on the lengths to keep them springy. No, not motor oil.
Use the pick, then run the curls through with your claws. Er, fingers.
Every scrap of precious information he gave me, I stored away in a piece of my LMem, committing the experience to memory with my highest definition sensors. I kept my eyes closed and my vitals low so that the light scrape of his claws and the tingle in my scalp took priority over all other sensations, permeating the warmest depths of my body. I felt more receptive and relaxed, as if any touch against my skin would be pleasant, and a purr of satisfaction escaped my throat.
Then a thought struck me, and my eyes popped open, Fásach’s claws running through a freshly detangled section of curls at the nape of my neck. The burn in my cheeks became a burn of embarrassment that I remembered from Rosy’s biggest arguments and mistakes. I grabbed Fásach’s hand against my neck to stop him.
[Analysis] He hadn’t gotten to groomor be groomedin a long time.
“My turn,” I breathed.
“What?”
I turned around to see his wide-eyed expression. “Isn’t it my turn to groom you?” I hesitated, unsure if my deduction was correct. “Or is that not how it works?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Please?” I turned around fully to face him, sitting on my knees. Though emotions and expressions were coming more easily to me every day, I still had trouble interpreting motivation. Emotions were coded into me as a sort of performance, but other than complying with instruction, I was built to be devoid of my own reasoning. Persuasion, deception, the generalwhyof things were elusive concepts. Especially for myself. “I want you to feel good because… you makemefeel good. Is that not acceptable?”
“...Are you sure it’s because you want to, Roz?” Fásach asked with hardened concern. “It’s not because you—” His tongue darted out of his mouth, snagging a fang, then disappearing just in time for him to snap his teeth together with a solidthunkof hesitation.
I didn’t recognize the expression, but I knew where his train of thought had gone. I lowered my gaze to my fisted hands, and the boneless ease of his grooming dissipated with the ratcheting of tension in my chest.
“I can’t help that I was born a doll,” I reminded him. “Does it bother you that much?”
Fásach growled and snapped his teeth together with more force. “No,” he said with finality. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. Earlier today, when I asked you about biting and slapping, you—”
Safia rolled over in her pod with a big sigh that made her mandibles quiver. We both watched her, frozen, until her breath deepened into sleep once more.
“You used your doll protocols for me because you thought that’s what I wanted, but Roz…” Fásach continued more quietly.“I never want you to confuse me for a… client. Not because you’rebad,but because I don’t want touseyou. You aren’t obligated to do anything but try to get us to Renata. Ever.”
Something hot in my stomach gurgled up. A feeling of… indigestion? No,indignation.I snatched Fásach’s hand and bit the soft spot between his thumb and index finger, baring my teeth with a scrunched nose. He yipped and jumped backwards, but I held on with both my hands on his wrist and slid into the blankets and pillows after him. I didn’t want to give up my hold, so when I toppled forward, I caught myself with an elbow near his hip and bit him harder. Only once I’d thoroughly drooled all over his velvet knuckles did I let go.
“Scocite!”he swore, shaking out his hand as I began disentangling myself from his long legs and blankets.
“That,” I panted, wiping my mouth on his knee, “was because I’m mad at you.” His ear twitched as he rubbed the distinct teeth marks I’d left behind. “Using my protocols doesn’t mean I’m on autopilot! I’m not a-a sex bike or-or a dildo that you just flip a switch and–”
“Mara, shhhhh,” Misila groaned. She kicked at her blanket, one frustrated toddler sob bubbling out of her chest. Fásach slapped his hand over my mouth as she complained at her mother in her sleep. I stopped breathing, instantly aware that I’d been too loud. When neither girl opened her eyes, we both sighed with relief and his hand slipped away.
“You’re right,” Fásach murmured near my ear. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“It’s fine. I need to get used to it,” I said, swallowing a bitter pill. “When we get to Renata, who knows if they’ll accept me? My originator… I don’t think she was a good person near the end.”
We fell silent, and I listened to my own heart beating. Fásach swallowing. The mingled rhythm of our breath. Heopened his mouth once, twice, wet his lips, angled his face towards mine… Then he righted some of the curls around my face rather than speaking.
“Why are you sleeping on the floor, by the way?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I can’t sleep without the girls snuggling into me anymore. I feel hungover the next day when I try,” he admitted. “You need to tie this up tonight before you charge. Put the shirt neck around your hairline like a headband. Don’t forget.”
“Could I try? Snuggling,” I asked in a small voice. Fásach froze. “And grooming. They’re things you miss about being with other yiwren, right?”
“Thank you for offering,” he managed. “But you should charge. We drop tomorrow.”
“I can be the big spoon, so you aren’t tempted to use me.”
Fásach squeezed his eyes shut and groaned with a whimpered huff at the end. Ah, so he’d thought I wouldn’t know why he was turning me down. Maybe I didn’t understand motivation well, but I knew a lot about having sex. At least, in theory.
