Hi, all!

Thanks so much for all the kind words.

My sincere apologies for the delay in getting the second half of "Still Waters" up. I've had to focus on actual (much less fun) moneymaking projects for a bit.

But yes, there's more to come.

Thanks for your enthusiasm and your patience. You are all wonderful.

- Thalia

Still Waters - Part 1

"Dare," I wrote on the pad.

Sandie was annoyed when I picked it instead of “Truth” again. It wasn’t what she’d planned. Not that going along with what she’d planned was in my best interests – Sandie didn’t like me much.

Sandie liked Laura, and so did I, and Sandie knew that. And, really, it can’t have been that hard to figure out – I can’t imagine anyone not liking Laura. She was sweet-natured and funny and so very smart. And just enough off of L.A.’s baseline of attractiveness to make you realize how crazy L.A.’s baseline really was. She was slender, but athletically so, from biking and basketball, hiking and swimming and who knows what else? And she had a sadly rare treat for Los Angeles: lovely, small, real breasts, with no enhancements whatsoever. She’d mentioned being self-conscious about them once or twice, but I – to the extent that I ever let myself steal the occasional glance – thought they were perfect. So many L.A. women have incongruous cantaloupes teetering perilously on starvation-thin bodies. But Laura’s were just how and where they were meant to be, like she was sculpted by wind and waves. Her breasts flowed perfectly from the lines of her shoulders, a sweet, harmonious counterpoint to the curve of her back.

I loved her face, too. In a city full of women who seemed to be walking around airbrushed and washed out into eerie Barbie-doll sameness, Laura had the intriguing planes and angles of a German-Jewish heritage and very slightly crooked front teeth. Which meant that instead of her smile being a practiced, insincere billboard (much like Sandie’s bright white showstopper), Laura’s smile was a genuinely welcoming grin once you coaxed it out, and getting her to throw her head back in unselfconscious laughter was a study in pleasure and warmth.

In a sea of blown-out platinum blondes, Laura was somewhere indeterminate between dirty-blonde and light brunette. I could never pin it down, no matter how much I stared from across the room at the highlights that corkscrewed intriguingly through her curls. Oh, that hair. She tried to tame it into smoothness by pulling it back severely, but I liked it best when she let her ringlets bounce free. Thinking about getting to tangle my fingers in those lovely waves only thing that ever distracted me from Laura’s wryly witty conversation.

And we did talk, Laura and I, at least once or twice at every party. We’d tuck ourselves away into what Laura would always name the Introvert’s Corner, no matter where we were, and take a break from the crowds and noise with a little close conversation. I loved those moments. Sandie couldn’t stand it that we did that – and as a dedicated extrovert, she couldn’t understand why we did it. She spent most of any party trying to tempt Laura in her own way – laughing too quickly and too hard at jokes, even mine, dominating the conversation, invading Laura’s space, and grabbing her by the arm to take her to meet this social prize or that one. Sandie did her best to show Laura that she could keep her in the thick of the very highest cut of the social whirl – and it drove her crazy when, after all that effort, Laura would quietly bow out and cross the room for a quiet conversation with me, our foreheads nearly touching and our lips all but brushing each others’ ears so we could hear each other above the din.

I played it that way because I really was an introvert, of course, maybe even a little shyer than Laura at first. But I also let her come to me and kept our interactions to small, tantalizing doses because I was unsure: I knew she liked me, but not if she was attracted – always a problem when introverts collide. Laura was nice to everyone. And everyone wanted to be near her. Sure, I sometimes thought I saw her pale blue eyes sparkle when I entered a room, but I couldn’t be certain.

So in the meantime, I went to every party where I knew she’d be and cherished those little slices of forehead-to-forehead conversation.

This one was Riley and Maia’s party – it was meant to be a quiet evening of cocktails, but under Sandie’s influence, it had devolved into “Truth or Dare” with grown, drunken women in their early 30s. I think Sandie’s idea had been that she’d get me to admit humiliating truths in front of Laura and chip away at my dignity. But my first truth had made the room laugh in a good way, and the second, a ridiculous admission of fretting way too much over whether failing to rinse out my recycling was worse or whether potentially wasting the water was worse, made Laura say “I do the same thing.” I melted a little, and I knew that Sandie had caught a quiet glance between us. If I let her ask me a truth again, it would be vicious.

I’d already been reduced to the notepad and a ballpoint pen by Sandie’s first dare: “Stay silent for the next two hours.” I guess she figured I at least couldn’t make Laura laugh any more. True to my word, I’d only made one sound during the last 45 minutes – a little yelp in the hallway from the kitchen on my way back to the living room as I felt an arm slide around my waist and a body press up against me from behind.

I turned to find Laura, and she laughed at the question in my eyes.

“You’re a good sport,” she said. And then she leaned in and murmured “Careful about those little noises, though, Jen. You don’t want to have to pay a penalty.”

And then she tapped me on the nose with a fingertip and moved on past me into the living room.

And that’s where we were as Sandie looked me up and down and tried to figure out a dare that would reduce me in Laura’s eyes somehow.

“Let me tie you up,” Sandie finally said as her acolytes sat on either side smirked. “To the bed in Riley and Maia’s guest room. One hour, and any of us gets to come in and do whatever we want to you.”

As Riley, Maia, and half the other women in the room howled in protest, I stood up, grabbed my satchel, and gave Sandie a little salute. Play along, yes; be completely dehumanized, no. Riley stood up to stop me from leaving as Maia moved in to negotiate. Sandie knew she’d taken things too far, and gradually backed down.

The ladies quickly renegotiated the dare: An hour tied to the bed in the spare room, and during that time, three people could come in: Three people of my choosing. Sandie was back in a good position now, if a little chastened, and now I was in a position of taking the humiliating dare that was designed to remove me even further from the party or leaving and losing all my good-sport cred.

I dropped my satchel and quickly pointed at Maia and Riley as my first two picks. They were practically married, and I knew they might mess with me in a friendly way, but they wouldn’t do anything I was uncomfortable with. Sandie watched me, smirking, as I looked around the room for my last pick. I didn’t know if I could stand for her to see me like that, but I suddenly realized that knew who else at the party I trusted and who I wanted with me. Sandie’s face was inscrutable as I pointed at Laura – we both knew the huge risk I was taking. But maybe it was time for a real dare.

Sandie and her acolytes tied my wrists to the wrought-iron headboard with a couple of neckties that Riley still had from her table-waiting days while Riley and Maia stood by to make sure nothing got tied too tightly. Even with Riley and Maia there, I felt much more vulnerable than I expected. Sandie gave me one last smirk as she shut the door and left.

At least it was easier to stay quiet. And I still had to – the spare room had and adjoining wall with the living room where the party was, and it was surprisingly thin. I could keep up with the conversation with only a few gaps in understanding. Mostly I listened to Sandie crack jokes at a frantic pace, hoping the room would forget about me.

Maia came in first, within the first five minutes. She was a gentle soul and she brought me two cups, one full of water, and one with a margarita in it, and then held each for me in turn. and helped me tilt my head up so I could sip. Then she echoed Laura and said “You’re a sport,” before she gave me a last sip and left.

Riley came in within the next few minutes to threaten me with tickling and magic marker moustaches, then grinned as I rolled my eyes at her. “I’m sorry about this,” she finally said. I shrugged to let Riley know I didn’t think it was her fault.

“Maybe Sandie doesn’t have to come to our next party.” Riley said. And then she fluffed the pillow behind my head and left.

I had one visitor left and more than 50 minutes to go. For the next few minutes, I only half-listened to the party through the wall. Instead, I listened to my heart beat as I wondered what would happen next.

I didn’t have to wait long. Laura poked her head in and smiled her beautiful crooked grin at me. I couldn’t help but smile back, and she came all the way in and closed the door behind her. Laura took a seat by the bed, waited for me to speak, then realized that I still couldn’t. “Well, this is awkward,” she laughed. I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Sorry about this,” she said after a minute. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had left… But I’m glad you didn’t.” We looked at each other until mutual shyness forced us to look away. And then I felt her stroking her fingers through my hair and looked back into her eyes. I’d never really liked my hair – the deep brown color was okay, but it always hung straight down no matter what I did to it. It was nothing like Laura’s intriguing curls. But somehow, with the soothing feeling of Laura’s fingers trailing through it, I didn’t mind it so much.

“Your hair is so silky,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to touch it. And now you have to let me…”

I let out a quick exhalation that was all I could do in place of laughing and Laura let out a quick laugh with me, but she kept smoothing her fingers through my hair. I gave into the temptation to close my eyes in pleasure and let her stroke me like a cat for just a moment, then quickly open them again. Had she seen it?

Laura’s fingers stopped and she studied my face for a moment.

“Oh, what the hell,” she said. And then Laura gently took my face in her hands and kissed me.

I didn’t manage to kiss her back for a millisecond. But then I made up for it.

Hi, there.

I'm not sure where the sudden influx of new traffic is coming from, but I'm delighted with it.

I've been tied up with other projects (alas, not in the fun way), but I am working on new pieces for this blog. My apologies for the delay.

It may take a while for the longer piece I'm plotting out to take shape, but in the meantime I'm working on a filthy little short. I'll get it posted as soon as possible. Thanks for reading. It's so good to know that people are enjoying these.

Thalia

Kindling up some passion

Hi, there. As you can see below, Aurora Awakening is, at last, finished. If you liked it, please consider buying the Kindle edition. (It's priced under $2.00 and is also available on Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.de, Amazon.it, Amazon.es, and Amazon.fr, or should be shortly.)

As I've said, I'm committed to posting filthy little stories for free, but every little bit helps (and can reduce those long delays between posts that happen when I'm overwhelmed with work).

Rating the story or writing a review is also incredibly helpful - I am immensely grateful to CobaltBlue, Jennifer, and Susan, and of course to the wonderful ladies at Good Lesbian Books. If you're not comfortable with that, adding to or reinforcing the tags on the stories can also help them appear in search results.

But, really, I'm mostly just grateful that you're here and you're reading. Thanks to everyone who has dropped an encouraging comment. They make my day.

And, yes, I'm starting on a new one.

-Thalia

Aurora Awakening – Part 6

The Key Room is about as much fun as you can have on a deep space rig, and that’s saying something. You do simulations when you’re getting your fixing degree, of course, but nothing even comes close to the real thing.

I rousted Fa hopearly, partly out of necessity and partly so she could see me turn and drop my towel and start dressing as she woke up. Fa was’t the only one learning things around here.  I couldn’t finish dressing until Fa stepped into the bathroom to shower, though – in fact, I had to hop out of my fullsuit and start again. I needed to  do some prep that I didn’t want Fa to see.

We scaffed our breakfast and barely even took the time to laugh at the poor horticults, who were still up from the night before and taking just a nanobreak to eat before rushing back to make sure all the plants were properly secured before the artifical grav got turned off. The mess crew was in a similar bind, and even though Fa and I got to mess hopearly, they still hustled us out. No mind, though – I was eager to get to the Key Room, and Fa was so nervous and excited about her first planet blast that she almost forgot I was up to something. Almost.

Blasting planet is the most stress a deep space rig ever has on it – when you’re pulling off a space station, of course, you just unhitch and use the minis to puff you out into a clear lane. But when you blast, you have a whole planet’s gravitational pull to escape.

Even with a full fixer crew, there’s almost too much to keep track of – all the systems, all at once. That’s why the Key Room is as dead-center as it can be. They describe it to first-years as panels and panels – readout panels, of course, and then panels covering access crawls right next to them. Something looks off, you’d better be scrambling lightquick through the access crawl to get straight to the system room you need.

You have to be at your best, sure as thumping, but the fact that your brain is lit up in every direction only makes the fun of the zero-G even more intense. 

And watching Fa really experience it for the first time made it fun all over again. Once we got to the Key Room (and I made her skaff an anti-nauseal), I ran her through a few basic drills, then had her stow her boots for the stuff the books don’t teach you. It’s hop against regs to be barefoot in the Key Room, but I wouldn’t want to blast planet any other way. It’s easier to climb and scramble around, and you can pick up a surprising amount of information through your feet. It’s well worth risking a cut. And it played pretty well into my plans.

I took Fa into the downside middle of the room just before the artificial grav went off so I could watch her face as she felt the sensation of her feet no longer being married to the floor. I helped her kick up into the center of the room, then showed her some basic maneuvers for antigrav. It’s not about getting used to your body not having a prejudice as to direction anymore – getting where you want to go is harder than you think at first.

Once Fa had her bearings, I drilled her on spinning out to the right panel – the trick is to find a point in the room to focus on and get your body used to spinning out from there – and then I pinged up to the bridge to let them know that Fa was ready for some simulations. She got hemigood at flipping herself to the right panel, and then I had her blam one open and try to scramble down an access crawl. She got tangled up with bumping into the sides more than she went forward, as any rookie fixer will do.

Fa got frustrated with herself, but that gave way to shock when I climbed in, planted her arms around my waist, and showed her how to move, planting your hands and feet wide and in a rhythm that corkscrews you forward instead of constantly crashing your back into the opposite wall. It’s actually faster than runging yourself along a ladder if you do it right, so most ships keep the crawl just that – a smooth, flat crawl. The fact that Fa had to cling to me like a baby treehopper so we had room to move at all didn’t hurt either. She watched my face as much as my hands and feet, half radiant with happiness at me pulling her so close and half trying to figure out what in scratch I was doing. I tried not to grin, but I didn’t work.

I signaled Nav and peeled Fa off so I’d have room to pop the panel at the other end and tumble out, then I made Fa try it a few times. I brought her back into access crawl for coaching. If you’re coming out of the Key Room, something is wrong, so you have to tumble out with a look that says you mean to solve things lightquick, but not one that says you’re panicking. Fa got it. I told the Nav team we’d be ready to start preblast in 10, and they told us they’d like to take the Fix team out and get us properly hammered that night, which is a fine deep space tradition. Jerly gave me a tiny wink and a nod as I ducked back in to follow Fa back down the access crawl. I’d called in about a dozen favors for what was about to happen that day, but it was sure as thumping going to be worth it.

But there was no time to think about it for the next few hours. Readout anomalies always pop up during preblast, and Fa and I spent the next three hours moving faster than grease through a wormhole. Finally every single team and instrument on the ship was ready, the Aurora herself was ready, and Fa and I were too. Fa had had to answer several calls by herself while I worked on the emergency stuff, and I was hop proud of her. I recked we’d each have a commendation and maybe a little something extra from the mess hall coming our way.

But I don’t think either of us was thinking about that much. We were both revved high after hours of climbing past each other in tight access crawls or caroming into each other as we floated and zinged around the Key Room. Fa still didn’t know what was up, but she liked it, and never missed a chance to put an arm around my waist or bump up against me. We’d each copped enough feels to have us vibrating in anticipation – Fa of the unknown, and me of the known.

Countdown to blast was underway and it was time for Fa and me to strap into our jumpseats. They aren’t really seats on the Aurora – your chest and waist get strapped in and you have armrests if you want them, but your legs pretty much dangle. Some who try them that way reck it’s more comfortable during a planet blast, and some don’t. I don’t much care – I just reck it’s part of the Aurora’s charm. But today I was hopgrateful for it.

I made sure to position Fa in the Aft spot, facing forward, helped her adjust her straps, and locked her in tight.

“The actual blast can get dangerous, Fa,” I said as I cinched and clicked the last strap around her waist. “Whatever happens, don’t leave this spot until I give you the all-clear.” Fa giggled and I went hemistern on her. “That’s a shout, Fa.”

Fa wasn’t sure whether to look shamed for her giggling or not, but she had plenty more to think about when she saw me snap off the main switch to the cameras.

“Yu, we’ve lost video to the key room,” Jerly called in, just like we’d planned.

“Aye, Jerly, I see it,” I replied. “Just a loose cable. Nothing serious. We’re strapped down to blast now – Keep the countdown going and I’ll fix it once we’re clear.”

“Copy that,” said Jerly as I angled toward the main audio panel.

“In an emergency, I’ll call you with my manual squawk,” I assured him, “That loose cable might also make the audio –” And then Fa looked at me in open astonishment as I yanked the audio cable right out of its socket.

Twelve minutes to blast. Cool as you please, I strapped myself into the jumpseat directly across from Fa. No one could see us or hear us now. And it only took a moment for that to sink in. She was a quick one, Fa, and I knew she’d never be able to resist. She calculated up the last few days, looked me dead in the eye, and popped her armrests down. Then she wriggled around until she could get to the front seam of her fullsuit and slowly dragged it open, never breaking eye contact. It only took her another few seconds to wriggle out of it completely so that she was just hanging there in front of me in her tank and skivs, letting her legs drift free.

I looked her up and down as frank as you please. She even wriggled her hips a little bit under my gaze, making her pretty, taut legs shift beautifully. I reached under my harness and straps and dragged the seam of my fullsuit halfway open, but I didn’t take it off. I shifted so my chest harness pressed just below my breasts and the cross straps set them off. It made them look like they were straining against my tank, straining to get to Fa. Fa wriggled out of her tank and bra in almost one go, tumbled them into a ball, and pushed them off to the side as hard as she could. She didn’t want anything interfering with my view of her pretty pink nipples.

Fa recked she had me now. She twisted as much as she could under the straps, making sure I could see how high and firm her little bubs were, then dipped her fingers just under the elastic at the top of her skivs, teasing me. We both wanted them off, but they weren’t going until I risked something too.

To Fa’s surprise, I undid the buckle of my hip strap. She started to undo hers, but I barked “As you were, Fa!” at her, and she let her hands float away. She went back to her skivs, and I traced my hands around my chest as a promise of reward. It wasn’t my fault she’d voluntarily anted too much in our strip poker game.

She wanted whatever was going to happen next too much to risk not getting it. Fa peeled off her skivs and twirled them around a finger – a tougher thing to do than you’d expect in zero-g. They quickly floated off and away, and Fa giggled. I didn’t have the breath for that. She was there in front of me, naked and perfect. And when her legs floated just right, I could see that she was glistening with anticipation.

“Well?” Fa broke my concentration. I looked up to her eyes to see her grinning a challenge at me. And then her jaw dropped when she saw me slam my fist into the release for my chest harness.

I’d been playing in zero-g longer than Fa had and she had no idea what I could do. I tucked up and swiveled, then pushed my feet against the back of the jump seat to launch myself at Fa. I pushed myself horizontal and spar-straight and tapped my foot against the armrest as I went to kick myself in to a perfect, lazy spiral straight at Fa.

She giggled as she saw me twirling slowly towards her like a lazy arrow, then laughed again as she saw that I wouldn’t meet her lips. She had just enough time to say “You missed, Chief,” before she sucked her breath in with a gasp as she realized I’d hit my mark after all and my lips closed perfectly around her left nipple.

The gentle contact with her body pushed me back the other way, and I let myself float back for just a centimeter or two before I lightly sucked on her to pull myself back in.

“Ooh,” Fa crooned, finally making that noise for real me instead of imaginary me. “Oooh.”

I released the suction enough to let myself float back a little, then started again. I had closed my eyes out of pleasure, but I knew Fa was enjoying it – she was breathing hard already, cooing beautifully, and squirming just enough to throw my momentum off a hair as I gently pulled in and let myself drift back out, never letting my lips lose contact with that perfect little breast.

Finally Fa couldn’t stand it and tangled her hands through my hair to pull me closer. I flicked and swirled my tongue around her perfect pink nipple as she squealed with pleasure, straining against her chest harness, and then she grabbed my head and the collar of my fullsuit to drag me up for a real kiss.

She was like heaven, better than station leave and bonus stacks combined. As her mouth closed around mine she was sweet, hungry, and relieved all at the same time. I just let myself float and kiss her as she used the back of my head and my collar to position me so she could kiss me wherever she wanted – my cheeks, my eyelids, and even the tip of my nose before pulling me back to her mouth so we could devour each other again.

My legs were still floating perpendicular to Fa, but my hands were near enough, so I let them steal down and graze and fondle her perfect little breasts some more. I tweaked her nipples into hard little peaks as she moaned and cooed into my mouth. Oh, her little bubs were so perfect. Fa strained against her harness and kissed me hard as I teased and grazed her nipples with my thumbs.

There wasn’t enough time to do all I wanted, not while we were counting down to planet blast, but there was one thing I wasn’t going to miss. I braced my hands on Fa’s shoulders to pull away for a moment, then looked into her eyes, each of us finally knowing the other, before I gave her a little goodbye kiss. The moment was so perfect I wanted to flash-freeze it and set it in steel.

Instead I handwalked down her body using her harness, letting my upper body angle toward the floor as my feet stayed dangling upwards. I kissed my way down as I went, taking just a little time to lap and suck at her right breast, then pulling away before Fa could tangle her fingers in my hair and pull me up again.

I kept going and Fa went still and trembled with anticipation as my hands grabbed hold of her hip strap and then I slowly moved in to taste the heat of her perfect pink center. Fa crooned again and her hands clutched at me, at once begging me to come up and kiss her and to never, ever stop.

She was perfect. The long morning of teasing and anticipation had her already shining and creamy for me, and for once I had a fixing problem that was too good to solve as I tried to figure out how to angle myself to reach all of her at once.

Fa was strapped in tight and could only barely buck against her hip strap, but she grabbed my hair and cooed for me, echoing her pleasure across the key room. I wanted to stay forever, but I knew I couldn’t. I was torn. Luckily Fa made the decision for me. Just I thought I had her ready to tip over the edge, Fa made the decision for me, grabbing my wrists and then my collar and pulling me back up to her. She kissed me with joy and even a little ferocity, grabbing my back as she did to work my body down parallel with hers, then kicking her legs out and trapping mine to pull me in the final distance.

And that’s when she felt the toy bump up against her thigh. Fa lit up like sunrise and was clawing my fullsuit off in no time. I had to grab it before she could toss it away. Fa let me float back just a bit so she could look at me in just a tank and a harness for the toy, no skivs at all.

Meanwhile I hit the remote for my toy so Fa could see it rise and swell. I’d picked a sparkly lavender one, fun and beautiful, because it reminded me of Fa. I found the little lubed-up sleeve I’d tucked into a pocket, then balled up my fullsuit and let it float away. Fa probably didn’t need the extra precaution at that point, but I sure as thumping wasn’t going to hurt her. Not then, not ever.

Fa watched my face change as I pulled the sleeve back and forth over the cock to coat it in lube and the harness ground against me with the motion.

“Save that for me, Chief,” said Fa, suddenly all woman instead of girly, and she grabbed my tank and pulled me to her again. We only broke our next kiss long enough to get me good and naked. Fa spun my bra away to chase after her skivs, but I balled my tank up between us so her chest harness wouldn’t hurt me. Even that little barrier between us was almost too much. There was so much I wanted to do. But we had all the time in the world for careful exploration later – now I had a plan to finish out.

Fa held me close with her arms so I wouldn’t float away, and used her legs to capture me again as we kissed and I let my tongue wander into her mouth and my hands rove all over her hair, her arms, and down to her hips. Fa kept trying to guide the toy inside her, and I grabbed the sides of the jump to brace myself like I was hopnear to helping her, but I’d always just tease a little bit and let the toy drift away.

Being so close and knowing I wanted it to had Fa was fit to blam. “Bailey!” she finally laughed and scolded at the same time as I used my hips to let the toy just brush her entrance and then float off the mark again.

“Shhhh.” Fa went still and listened. We could still hear the countdown echoing through the ship.

“8…7…6…”

I positioned the toy just at her entrance, lightly brushing back and forth.

“5…4…3…” Fa darted her hands between us to unclasp her hip belt and let the ends float free, then she gently clasped her arms around my neck.

“2…”

I braced my arms against the jump to make sure I wouldn’t hurt her.

“1… We have ignition.”

The primary thrusters started, pushing the Aurora forward…and me into Fa. I used my arms and stomach muscles to hold back and make it as slow as I could as Fa cooed one long “Ooooooooooooo” right into my ear.

It wasn’t much force, just a little over a G, but it was enough to push me up against Fa and inside her, as close as we could be. She didn’t need to keep me from floating away anymore, but she held me as tightly as she could anyway, our cheeks nuzzled against each other and her arms and legs wrapped around me. We held each other for a minute or two, or maybe hours.

Then I pushed back on my elbows so I could kiss her again, and started pulling back and thrusting inside her as gently as I could. Letting the force of the ship’s motion do so much of the work was incredible – I would pull away from Fa, then let the Gs push me back insider her – me resisting as much as possible to keep it slow – as if the whole universe knew that was the way we were meant to be.

Fa sighed and moaned with the motion, and soon I heard my voice join her, a lower counterpoint to the high melodies she was cooing. We were both getting close. Fa started calling my name as I pushed into her – Not “Yu,” not “Chief,” but “Bailey,” over and over. It made me sparky. I couldn’t ever remember sex feeling like that, but then I’d never cared about anyone as much as Fa. All I wanted was to be inside her and as close to her as possible.

Fa must have been feeling the same was I was. She suddenly reached down and found the ends of her hip belt, pulled it wide, then locked it around both of us and tightened the strap. She didn’t care about me thrusting or doing anything at all. She just wanted us there, exactly like we were, as close as two people could be.

I hung there for a moment, pressed against her and enjoyed the feeling too, feeling her arms and legs cling to me because somehow even the G-force and the hip belt weren’t enough.

I think Fa might have been content there, pressed together, limbs tangled up, and perfectly still, for a long time. But I pushed back just a little to look at her face, because I knew one more thing about the Aurora that Fa didn’t.

What I knew was what would happen when the Aurora made her final push out of orbit. Because what my big, beautiful jumble of bolts does when the booster engines kick in is rumble.

I felt the chunk when they engaged and then the deep, low thrum as they got going. I leaned in to snatch a little kiss from Fa in anticipation, which was a good instinct. It was the last thing I’d be able to think clearly about for the next few minutes.

The low hum got deeper and louder as it moved through the ship and took the whole Aurora over. Fa and I clung together and looked at each other, panting lightly, as the sensation started to overcome us. The whole ship purred around us. Fa’s eyes went wide, then closed as she tilted her head back with pleasure.

The walls vibrated, the jump seat, the air all around us. Her against me, me insider her, both of us and the Aurora, all buzzing and throbbing together. I rocked my hips up as much as I could just to get a little more inside her, crying out as loud as I’d always wanted and nuzzling into Fa’s pretty white neck as she leaned her head against the jump seat and called out my name, rocking her hips the little bit she could in time with me and digging her nails into my back.

The Aurora shuddered with the final effort of leaving orbit and I tried to brace again to keep from hurting Fa, but she just grabbed my head and pulled my ear to her lips.

“No, Bailey, it’s perfect! Don’t worry, it’s perfect! Don’t make it stop…” Fa felt me relax and wrap my arms around her and the back of the jumpseat both and let go of her last little shard of worry too. “Bailey! Oh! Bailey!” And then she cooed again, practically singing, as I stopped feeling the Aurora shake because the only thing I was aware of was Fa coming, clutching at my back, my hair, my shoulders, and twining her legs around mine. The feeling was incredible, all up and down my spine, and I finally gave in and shouted back to her as I rolled my whole body against her and came.

I rested my forehead against hers as we tried to spiral back down, but the Aurora wasn’t done shuddering us sparky yet. Fa finally tilted my head back for me just like she’d done in the shower, pushed my bangs out of my face, and grinned at me, just as sweet and mischievous as she’d always been.

“You had me so worried,” she panted. “Were you sparky for me this whole time, Chief?”

“Overloaded. Sure as thumping.” Fa kissed me on the tip of my nose. And then her grip on my hair tightened.

“And how long does this heavenly rumbling keep up?”

“Few more minutes. If you need me to, I can take – ”

“Don’t you dare! That’s a shout,” She grinned. “But we should take this hip strap off to give us a little more room to maneuver.”

That’s why Fa’s such a good fixer. She would never like potential energy like that go to waste.

Somehow we never did get around to switching out rooms. Every now and then I wonder if Beauchene even bothered to put in the request, but it’s no scrap either way.

You have to plan ahead when you’re a fixer on a deep-space rig. But sometimes it’s the things you don’t plan for that work out the best.

© 2012 by Thalia Fand

Aurora Awakening – Part 5

 

The next week was torment, sure, but a different kind that it had been before. It was kind of fun, if I’m truthing.

Fa knew she had me, and recked it was just a matter of getting me to break. I most likely would have gone completely off-plumb if I hadn’t seen Fa looking at me that night – she was hopnear merciless. But I’d scanned how things stood now, and I nothing was going to make me abandon my plan, even Fa.

I sure enjoyed her trying, though.

Now that Fa knew I was sparky for her, she did everything she could get in my path. She found reasons to brush past me in tight corridors and leaned over my shoulder to watch me work, holding her cheek so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating from her skin and letting her breasts brush against my back.

She pretended to forget her fresh linen ration and left it on the bed so that I’d have to come into the shower and give her towel to her. I’m not shamed to say I was close to dropping the whole thing and giving in right then. She looked perfect – shining with tiny water droplets and leaning just so against the shower door as I came in.

I pretended to still be shying away, of course, but I let myself have the pleasure of looking at her just enough to let the color creep into my cheeks – I recked seeing me react to her would stoke Fa’s engines, and it did. I made to scurry out quick like I would have before, but Fa playfully grabbed me by my shirt, pulled me toward her, and said “Thanks, Chief,” before dropping a little kiss on my cheek.

The look in her eyes when I just nodded and left was worth a week of station leave.

She was smart enough to know that just being naked around me would lose its power, so the devious little squib kept finding reasons to be half-dressed or in the middle of dressing as much as possible. If I was tinkering with mirrors on my bed, she found a reason to be reading on the floor with her shirt seam undone low. And of course she came over occasionally to bend way over and ask me how things were going.

I recked two could play at that game, so one night after Jamila had nailed me hard at spinhockey, I managed to be twisting around trying to smear antibruise on myself, high on my ribcage on my side, just as Fa got back to the cabin. As brazen as she’d been and as lightquick as she offered to help, I still felt Fa’s fingers tremble when she first touched me.

Fa had been chattering at me again lately, for which I was sore grateful, but we both got quiet as she smoothed the salve over my skin. Fa offered to massage my back and shoulder out – just so I wouldn’t be sore in the morning – and for once I let her, just to keep her hands on me. For just a second, I wondered about getting one of the fauna biologists into the cabin to take a pheromone count. I reck the place would have pegged her meter.

It almost wasn’t fair. I knew what was up, so I could give in to feeling how surprisingly strong Fa’s hands were, and how gently she used them on me. But poor Fa just about unspooled. She was inches away – one pass of her hand – from something that would either shatter all the pretense and finally have us kissing each other or get her fired and sent home in a stasis capsule.

On the other hand, when I thought about how just that afternoon she’d used the excuse of an overpacked lift to press up against me and gently roll her hips back and forth, I recked she deserved it.

Fa and Tazuma were deep in conversation at morning mess the next day, and I smiled into my caff because now I knew why – Tazuma was a friend, someone she could slide secrets to, not a lover. And if she was in any way responsible for the little gambits Fa was coming up with lately, I owed her a drink.

It wasn’t all teasing and quivering, though. Fa’s scratch near ruthless attempts to break me during the day – and what looked like some sort of noble resistance on my part – made her tender with me in unguarded moments. She found an excuse to bunk down after I did every night that week. Fa still thought I was a heavy sleeper, so she took the small risk of touching me, just once, before she bunked down herself. One night she stroked my hair, lightly as you can imagine, and on another she traced her fingers across my cheek. One night I felt her sit on the edge of the bunk and I had a sparky hope that she’d just lie down and sleep there with me. I’d calculated it out ages ago and recked she’d fit just perfectly with her head cuddled just below mine and my arm around her.

The day before we blasted planet, one of the skiff pilots did a low run over the area we’d been collecting from and sent a realtime scan up for everyone to watch. They played it on the huge screen in the main rec area and Fa and I went as a late mess break. We stood together, almost close enough for our shoulders to touch, and watched as beautiful green hills and meadows rolled by, then laughed at the lurching feeling when the pilot swooped back and forth to follow the path of a river.

The skiff pilot dove into a clearing in the woods and then she hovered there for a minute, slowly circling so we could see how strange and tall the trees were. As she gradually lifted the skiff up, up, up and back out into the sun, I realized that Fa and I were standing shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. I recked anyone looking thought we were just being companionable, but you wouldn’t have made much scrap trying to sell that to the nerves up and down the right side of my body.

The skiff wheeled out and came down over the mass of huge leafy plants Fa and I had walked though. They looked hopnear magical in the late afternoon sun, and I felt Fa’s fingers twine through mine. I tried to control my pulse rate as the pilot circled the little lake. I could feel Fa looking at me, but I kept my eyes front. I knew I was only barely keeping myself soldered. No way either of us was thinking about a thing except for Fa naked underneath me and my thigh between hers.

The pilot pulled away and sped up to head for some nearby foothills, but Fa and I didn’t drop hands until the scan was done. When I finally turned and looked at her, she was scratch near ready to give up the game. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were huge, looking up at me and just aching to go ahead and ask. I had to get out of there, so I told her gentle-gruffly to get back on shift, but then she looked so sad and confused that I couldn’t leave it at that.

“We have a full load to rack to get ready for tomorrow, Fa,” I said, looking into those big blue eyes, “but I promise you’ll enjoy it when we get there.”

Fa brightened a little, but if possible she looked even more confused than she had been. I touched her forearm and left the rec area as cool as you please, but hopnear broke into a run once I cleared the door.

I wasn’t kidding about the load of work we had, either. I spent the afternoon on the run to every section of the ship, checking to make sure no one had any last-minute requests and doing my best to rig something up for those who did. There were plenty of last-minute fixes up in Nav and on the bridge, as there always are. I was prepped for that, but making myself seem just a little busier than I really was helped me call in a favor or two.

The next day was set, and I recked it would be perfect.

I’d put Fa down in the big bay, supervising a team of engine grunts to make sure everything was shipshape before we blasted. She was still down there when I stuck my head in to check on her, and I recked she was doing a fine job. She made it clear she was leading a team that she was a part of, not an interloper who’d come in to give shouts, and she was using her brains and power to get her shouts followed, not her prettiness. I was so proud of her I was fit to blam.

I leaned back so I could watch Fa without interfering. Elspeth, an engine grunt I’d scrumbled with once or twice when we were both feeling unspooled caught the way I was looking at Fa and gave me a raised purple eyebrow and a grin. I tried to look innocent, but Elspeth just laughed and nodded her approval.

Well, hellscratch, I recked anyone who cared would find out soon anyway.

Once we hit evening mark, I had Fa give her last shouts to the team and then pulled her off – fixers get so busy when we blast planet that it’s against regs for us to work at all the night before. And that’s one set of regs I follow.

Fa and I had an unusually unrushed dinner at evening mess, then headed back to the cabin. I recked I had holes in my skull from the way she’d been staring at me. She knew something was up, but sure wasn’t making any scrap figuring it out.

I kicked back with a datastack of checklists to review before the mandatory preblast early lights out, but Fa wasn’t having it. She chattered at me, asking relevant questions about her first real shift in the key room, but also trying to figure out what I had idling in the back of my mind. I couldn’t help but grin as she asked me questions from every direction, trying to inkle what was up.

Finally, still asking questions and still looking me right in the eye, Fa stood up and peeled off her fullsuit. Slowly, making sure to bend over as she stepped out of the legs, so I could see down her tank. Then her tank, bra and skivs went. I’d steeled myself for that sort of thing, but I knew my cheeks were flushing, and my breathing wasn’t as steady as I would have liked.

Fa bent over to pick everything up then walked over to bundle it into the hamper. I recked I’d made it through the show, but then Fa sat down opposite me on her bunk and pulled out a bottle of lotion, and she began smoothing it over every inch of her pretty white skin, still talking, and smiling at me now, knowing she was gaining top hand. She reached her breasts and I watched her nipples stand and strain toward me.

I pretended to find something interesting in my datastack so I wasn’t looking right at her, but Fa knew she’d gotten me. She was smoothing the lotion over herself slowly, enjoying my agitation as much as the feeling of it against her skin, I reck. She kept chattering to pull my attention in her direction, then finally snapped on her reading light, snapped off the main, and said, “What do you think, Chief?”

I looked up and lost my breath again. The lotion made Fa look like she had a sheen of tiny diamonds all over her skin. It made her look like she was sparkling in perfect moonlight. I knew Fa had never been in real moonlight, and that was a shame. I recked it might be worth taking a real shore leave to walk through some with her.

“Well?” she asked, lifting up on her toes a bit and twirling around. And then she giggled at my first try at answering because my mouth had gone dry.

“Real nice, Fa,” I managed. “You look hoppretty.”

“Just pretty?” she asked with a beckoning little smile.

“Beautiful, if I’m truthing.”

Fa took a step toward me, and I wanted her to keep on stepping more than anything I’d ever thought of.

But if I gave in now, we’d both be up for hours. And one thing the Aurora couldn’t afford was to have both her engineers off-plumb on the morning of a planet blast.

It took every bit of will I had, but I turned and tucked myself into my own bunk and snapped off my reading light.

“Lights out, Fa. We both need to be at full charge in the morning.”

Fa stared at me with her mouth open. She’d been sure she had me.

“We both have to be ready for the key room tomorrow, Fa,” I said, and then I added, gently as I could without giving too much away, “You’ll like it more than you reck. I promise.”

Fa stared at me in disbelief for just another nano, then slipped between her sheets completely naked, making sure I got a good look at what I was missing as I did so.

Like any good fixer, I couldn’t resist one last little tweak:

“And make sure you get some real sleep tonight.”

I scrunched my eyes up tight, but I know Fa whipped her head around to stare at me before she snapped off her light.

Aurora Awakening - Part 4

The next few weeks were as terrible as you’ve inkled.

Most of the time settling into a nice, easy orbit is my favorite part of any run. There are no urgent calls to worry about, so I can tinker with the Aurora from bow to stern. She was a fine ship when she came into my care, but I’m not venting steam when I say I’ve made her faster, more efficient, and even a little smarter. And almost all of that happens while we’re rolling planet and I really time to think.

Fa had a sharp mind and I’d been eager to put our heads together so she could help me dreamstorm, but that was before I’d crosswired everything. Now we were hopnear tiptoeing around each other, especially in the cabin. Fa kept her nose in a datastack, and we mostly didn’t speak unless we were apologizing for bumping into each other because we barely made eye contact anymore.

Fa was sad, but I recked she couldn’t be anywhere near as off-plumb as I was. I was the only one who knew we were both miserable.

And she was starting to open up and spend time with other people around the ship more. Which I recked was a good thing, and something that had to happen eventually, but that didn’t make me feel better about the reason. Plus she’d started hitting mess hall with a pretty young horticult, Tazuma. Nowhere near as pretty as Fa to my mind, but still. Tazuma had had her hair and skin dyed to look like those pictures you see of tigers – and she’d even have a slide job to give her bright green eyes with pupils like a cat. Not my thing, but there was no denying that she was gorgeous. Jamila caught me staring at them during evening mess and whacked me in the back of the head with the heel of her hand, which was no more than I deserved.

Tazuma and Fa whispered a lot and I sometimes caught them both looking at me. I recked Fa’s little chief crush was as good as dead. I should have been relieved about that, but I couldn’t seem to fund much bliss in it.

I finally did what I should have done ages ago and went and saw the hort chief. I owed her a favor anyway – might as well ask her if she wanted any tinkering. Beauchene recked she did. Our growrooms gave the plants doses of heat and artificial sunlight, but the timers just faded the lamps on and off in straight cycles. Beauchene recked that light that traveled so the plants could follow it would be better, and days that lengthened and shortened to match the home planet’s year would be better yet.

Once we got to thinking about it, I recked I could design and program some ductwork extensions to allow for random breezes to blow through and an extension to the entry lock that might mean we could bring real pollinators insects onboard. Which was best even though, truthing, tricking out mech pollinators to spec is one of my favorite things.

Programming the basic pattern of the growroom lights was nothing, but getting them to mimic the gradual changes through the year and randomizing proper breezes was fun and took some real fixing. I also figured out a way to randomize the misters while keeping an overall drop count to stay inside optimal specs. Beauchene couldn’t wait to try the whole system out.

Still, I recked we were dealing with a square room. Some of the plants along the central line were going to catch more artificial sun and start to shade out the others. So I worked out some retractable shade baffles and – this is the part I’m really proud of – started spending my spare time working out a system of swiveling mirrors that could take care of any runts that were missing out on sunshine.

I was packing up my personal stuff a little bit each evening to prep for the move, but the clutter was expanding. My desk and bunk shelf were full of mirrors, servos, and lens grinding gear. I hoped I wasn’t driving Fa sparky what with me spending most evenings cross-legged on my bunk grinding out new curves and sending flashes of light all over the room, but she was being so polite with me there was no way to really tell. One night I was concentrating hard and I felt her next to me. I thought she was maybe about to push my bangs out of my eyes and then stopped herself, but I recked it was my imagination. She just picked up the refresher stack on bot specs next to me and flopped onto her own bunk to read.

She did clamp a safety harness on me when she caught me hanging from a ladder by my knees to get a test mirror tweaked just right, though, so at least she didn’t want me to break my neck. I calculated that was as good as I’d be getting for a bit.

The Basic Maint crew probably wouldn’t have minded seeing me with a broken neck when they saw the work order for the dozens of extra clamps I wanted installed for the mirror system, but I called in some favors from Supply and the Galley crew and threw them a thank-you feast and those clamps went up lightquick. If nothing else, Fa was learning how a deep-space ship really runs.

Chief Beauchene was happy enough with the way the experimental growroom was shaping up that she offered to let Fa and me take a little tour planetside once most of the collecting was done. She even got us loans of some hort hot-weather gear for planetside – T-shirts that were even thinner than our tanks and khaki shorts. There hadn’t been a single med incident the whole planetstay and the horts were getting casual enough to enjoy themselves.

I’d hoped we could take it on separate shifts, but Beuchene said we’d have to take it during a crew shuffle when two transport slots were available, so we went. I was grateful that Tazuma wasn’t on our shuttle, but it made for a quiet ride down.

The planet was a stunner, though, full of green and nearly as pretty as Fa. The horticults still had work to do, so our guides begged off pretty quickly. They showed us the basics and gave us a cheatmap of the trails they’d been using and told us to spin off out of their way. It was awkward as all scratch, but after an hour or so, it was all so beautiful that Fa and I both started to loosen up. We tried all the paths and finally took a trail through what looked like hectares of deep green plants with big flat leaves like elephant ears and purple flowers. I recked if there was a beach, I wouldn’t mind spending my bundle setting up my retirement there.

We didn’t find a beach, but we did pop out into a clearing with a little pond in it that looked hopclose to perfect. I started walking around the edge and lost myself in the greenery for a bit, maybe getting a little distracted by looking at which plants were doing in the shade and which were straining for the light.

Which I shouldn’t have done. Like I said, Fa was stationborn and station raised. Which meant that anytime she’d been near a lake or a pond before, it was in a station enviro, engineered to be safe. If you grow up on planet, you know that you can’t just dive into a lake or a pond you haven’t swum in before, because there might be rocks just under the surface or who knows what kind of beasties in it. But Fa didn’t know that, and there’s no reason it would have occurred to her.

When I turned around, she’d stripped all the way down to nothing and was headed for the water. I gave a shout and she broke stride and turned her head just in time for me to tackle her. We tumbled into a heap and I ended up on top. I got three words into yelling at her for doing something so stupid when my breath left me in one big whuff.

Fa was under me, naked and more perfect than anything I’d ever made. Our legs were in a tangle and I could feel how warm she was against my thigh. I didn’t know if Fa realized that, but she thumpsure could feel my heart hammering against my chest. I watched her face change from astonishment at being tackled to a knowing grin. I scrambled back and away from her as fast as I could and handed Fa her skivs, but it was too late. She knew now that my problem wasn’t that I didn’t like her; it was that I did.

My shouting brought some third-class horticult charging into the clearing, and once he saw Fa hopping back into her shorts, he knew what was up. A third-class normally takes the abuse instead of giving it, and he lit in to Fa like he’d been saving it up for years. I let him yell at her for about the 45 seconds she deserved, then stepped in and said that I recked this was a team disciplinary issue, and if he had more to say he’d better take it up with Fa’s chief.

He declined.

Fa thanked me for sticking up for her and apologized, and I don’t even remember what I mumbled in reply – I couldn’t look at her face. We walked back to the main landing area to catch a shuttle and I could feel Fa’s eyes on me the whole time. I was glad I’d been spending so much time under the grow lights. I recked I was bright red enough even under my tan.

The thing is, see, it wasn’t just a shuttle ride back. When you’ve been on-planet, you have to go in the cooker to get sterilized before you can go back into the main ship. And somehow the horticults on our shuttle all scrambled into the other chambers together. I hadn’t remembered them being so clannish before. Maybe they were more annoyed with having to cart me and Fa down there than I thought.

So Fa and I surrendered our borrowed clothes (and our own skivs) straight to the laundry chute for a bleach-and-boil, and then the two of us climbed into the cooker to get clean. And that’s when Fa decided to repay me for the hurt I’d given her. I stood there under the red heat lights, wearing the dumb little goggles they give you and trying not to look at Fa or be looked at, as if such a thing was even possible.

But Fa basked. She put her arms over her head, stretching her slender, perfect form out as far as she could, and then laced her fingers behind her back and stretched again, pushing her chest towards me and grinning, knowing she was torturing me. I looked at the lights, at the walls, at the floor, anywhere but her. I recked the white outline of my tank against my tan couldn’t much compare to Tazuma’s tiger stripes, so I tried my best to pretend that Fa wasn’t looking at me. I was so ready to get back into the post-planet fullsuit I’d left for when we got back that I scratch-near fell over trying to get into it.

Fa wanted to talk to me when we got back to the cabin, but I lied told her I wanted to check the grow lights and get a workout in. I ended up doing both, because I couldn’t go back to the cabin with Fa there. I recked I’d figure out how to deal with her in the morning, but I needed some space between me and her until then. Or at least until I could stop feeling her heat against my thigh.

I threw weights around and ran in the hamster ball until I was dead beat, then said a silent thanks to the Aurora when I got back to an empty cabin. I pushed the thought that the cabin might be empty because Fa was with Tazuma down as far as it would go.

I was asleep as soon as my tail hit the bunk, but of course I woke back up when I felt Fa come back in. I stayed as still as I could as I heard her move right up to my bunk. She stood there for a moment, and then she gently trailed her fingers up my arm. I felt every nerve in my skin come alive as I wondered what to do.

Fa went to her own bunk and got in without even turning off the light. As if I hadn’t had enough torment that day, I heard her clothes hit the floor, and then the soft rustling of sheets as she began one of her performances – something she hadn’t done since I’d told her I was moving out. I heard the sound of her hands moving up and down her body, and then of her squirming against the sheets, and then the rhythmic sound of her wrist moving, sooner than she ever had. Something had her ready.

I’d never given in to the temptation before, but I recked I’d been sorely tested. And that with me moving out soon maybe just once, just once, it wouldn’t be so bad. And, scratch, Fa sounded so sweet. And there was a shelf full of mirrors right next to me. So for the first time ever, and just that once, I cracked an eye open and looked in one of the mirrors at Fa. And then I clamped it shut tight again, because what I had seen wasn’t at all what I expected.

Instead keeping those big blue eyes closed in pure bliss, Fa had been looking right at me.

I reck I took it pretty well, considering my brain was flooded with the realization of how dumb I’d been.

I could have gotten up and joined Fa right then, kissed her long and hard enough to make her forget every last bit of the last few weeks, and then pushed her hand away and finally let my lips go where my thigh had been so happy that afternoon.

I could have done that, sure, and Fa would have been as happy as could be.

But I’m a good fixer. And a good fixer likes to plan.

Auora Awakening - Part 3

The next morning I was out of bed lightquick and on my way to the horticult wing before Fa even woke up. The hort chief kept early hours – she said it was a habit that never left her, even though she hadn’t been planetside in years – and I recked I could catch her in their gym before mess.

Sure enough, she was there, yoging, so I tried to sit tight as quietly as I could until she was done. Truthing, I ended up doing some work on the weight bench that had nothing to do with my regimen; it was just to blow off nerves.

The hort chief stopped twisting and stretching and lay down on her back real quiet for a few minutes, so I powered down. I recked I needed a few minutes to think what to say, anyhow.  I liked the hort chief. Beauchene was her name, and she was a good chief by all accounts, with way more shout-tos than I’d ever have. She was somewhere above 50 cycles, with dark hair streaked with iron gray, and eyes that told you she’d seen enough that maybe it was best to just shut your face bay and listen.

Like I said, she had dozens of shout-tos, but she always gave me my due as a chief, even though she knew that as long as I stayed on the Aurora, my total was going to stay stuck at one. She was smart like that – she thought long-term, like me, and knew it wasn’t any scrap off her bundle to treat me like an equal, and would probably net her more than a few favors down the road. Which it sure as thumping did.

When she opened her eyes, I went over to give her a hand up from the mat – just as a bit of respect, see. We both knew she didn’t need one. 

“You’re up early, Chief Yu,” she said, grabbing a towel and focusing those laser eyes on me a little more sharply than I was easy with. I dove in with the story I’d specced out, explaining how Fa and I had had to troubleshoot the steam coils for so long the day before, and that I recked the low-shout horts needed a little more back and brain in it when it came to blowing out the lines at the end of the next run.

Chief Beauchene is big on prop discipline, so she agreed right away and asked me to lay out in a doc where the problems had been so she could make sure the blowout would be done right the next time. I recked a few horts would be wondering if their ears had been singed off not too long after mess.

“But that’s not something that would need to get you up at this hour,” Beauchene said, and her eyes hopnear burned a ventilation shaft straight through my head.

So as we walked back to the lockcubes I told her I recked I had a little problem what with rooming with a direct shout-to and all, and I wondered if we could work a trade, and maybe she could reassign one of the horticults to bunk with me.

Which wouldn’t have been such an odd request if I’d made it when we first launched, but we’d been out for weeks now. She knew hopwell that something had to be up. Beauchene kept looking at me with those eyes that could bore through ten-inch steel and kept asking short, completely official questions and I knew she’d seen me and Fa together dozens of times and somehow I ended up flopping down on the bench by her and the whole thing just unspooled. All of it. I couldn’t even look at Beauchene after I was finished. Just sat there with my hand over my eyes wishing I could blam into a million pieces just for the distraction.

She was quiet for a minute, and then all that came of her was a murmur.

“Hellscratch, Yu.”

I felt her sit down next to me and I knew she was staring at me, even though I still couldn’t look up. She finally continued in a tone that was angrier and gentler at the same time.

“This isn’t like you.”

I sank even lower. At least clutching my head with both hands gave them each something to do. Beauchene kept talking.

“You’re too good a fixer for this. You’re just treating the symptom… You’re putting a sound buffer over a knock instead of opening the panel to see what’s making it.”

I wasn’t sure why, but that got my spikes out a little. I recked it was maybe that she was complimenting and shanking my fixing skills at the same time. Or maybe it was that she was right – deep down I knew I was quicktaping instead of fixing.

On the other hand, Beauchene didn’t have to spend every night three feet away from an angel who was blissing out on multiple orgasms. She clearly didn’t understand that this was serious rumble. I looked up at her to tell her that we can’t all be horticults and nurture everything in a hot room, but when I saw her face, it was so full of sad at me that I stumbled and didn’t end up with near the effect I wanted.

Anyway, I worked my fix. Beauchene said she recked I could switch out and she’d put a hort in with Fa – a nice one, she said before I even asked – but that we were fixed to make planet the next day and the horts would be busier than an outpost gambling bot for the next few weeks. She recked she could ask a hort to move in once we blasted and they had a little more off time again.

So it was good as fixed, only I didn’t feel as flush about it as I should have. Torment or no, I knew I’d miss Fa, truthing.

And I still had to go and tell her.

Fa was in our cabin and suited up, but she hadn’t gone to mess. I recked she was waiting to see if I came back and wanted to go together, which made me feel even worse. Fa raised her eyebrows in question at me, wondering where I’d been so early. I might have been leaving, but I hadn’t gone full coward yet.  I recked it was only fair to tell Fa straight off instead of springing it on her at the last minute.

I’d told her I’d been to see the hort chief about the steam coils, and then, maybe not being totally clear about whose idea it was, I told Fa what the new bunking situation would be once we’d blasted planet.

Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. I was proud of her for that. I found something else to look at so she could pull herself together and assigned Fa to calibrate the temperature control systems, which we both knew was hopeasy work, and told her I was skipping mess that morning. I recked Fa needed some time to herself, and I couldn’t find my appetite.

I assigned myself to reinforce the blast panels by the main engines. I needed something to slam.

I pushed hard through the morning, and then I skaffed a couple of gel packs instead of going up for lunch. OK, maybe a little cowardice had crept in there somewhere. But I recked it couldn’t hurt to put some clicks between me and Fa for a bit.

Which worked just great until my medchip alarm went off. Two days of working in heat and not enough stopping to guzzle. I should have known I’d get dinged for dehydration, but, like I said, I wasn’t planning ahead so great around Fa. According to regs, I had to drop work and head straight to the med center.

And, truthing, once I tried to stand up on the catwalk where I’d been working, I recked my chip hadn’t signaled any too soon. It must have had trouble calibrating with the med bay computer when I was that deep in the bowels of the ship.

I had a case of the spins, and wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should, Fa or no Fa. I half-fell down the ladder and then hit my beacon and had a scoot bot walk me in, just so I could lean on it. Jamila took one look at me and hopnear punched me in the face. Instead she shoved me into a bunk and jammed a drip into my arm, scolding me the whole time. She also gave me a bottle of electrolytes to sip. It tasted rancid, but you’d better credit I started drinking it as quick as I could stomach, what with Jamila about to redline her mad gauge and all.

The next thing the regs said Jamila had to do was, when I was ready for release, call a team member or my bunkmate to scort me back to my cabin. Big range of choices there. I flat-out begged her not to, and when I finally explained that Fa was upset because I’d told her I was switching out, Jamila looked like she would hit me again and then gave me that funny look from before.

Then she sat next to me on the bunk and gently pushed my head instead of cracking it.

“Scratch,” she said, real quiet, “I knew you had gears in your head, but I’ve never seen them go off on a tear like this before.”

I recked that didn’t require a response. Jamila took my hand by way of pretending to check my drip and said, even quieter, “You sure this is what you want?”

I told her it was the only thing that made sense, though I couldn’t quite look her in the eye when I did.

Jamila went off to ping Fa and I lay in my bunk, punishing myself by guzzing electrolytes and thinking about the fact that I couldn’t make tears at the moment. Not that I would have, just that I was thinking about it. But even if I could have, I recked I wouldn’t have.

I was 90% sure, anyway.

When Fa came in, it was clear she’d run from whenever she’d been when she’d gotten pinged. The look she gave me made my heart do a barrel roll. I was shamed on a couple of counts and turned my head away, but she charged over and pushed my bangs back and looked into my eyes.

“You OK, Chief?”

“Yeah, just stupid.”

Suddenly I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, right there on the bunk. Maybe with Fa still sitting next to me. That was what my body wanted.

But Jamila wasn’t having it. She agreed the dehydration would make me want to sleep all right, but she recked I could do that in my own bunk and leave hers open for someone with real problems. I shot her a look, but she was most likely right. And besides, a ship doc can give a shout to anyone, even the Captain.

Fa had been on light duty and still looked like she had first thing that morning – perfect, if I’m truthing. But I was covered in grime. I’d stopped sweating at some point in the afternoon, but that sure as thumping hadn’t been the case that morning. I didn’t want to go anywhere near Fa. I looked like I’d been pulled backward through the main gears and probably smelled like dried sweat and greasecake.

But I’d like to see any six forward battle units stand up to the combined force of Jamila and Fa when they set their minds to something. My plan was that I’d walk on my own, next to Fa, and if I fell down she’d either wait it out or call a scoot bot. Or leave me there to crawl back. Hellscratch, I deserved it.

Their plan, as you’ve likely inkled, was my arm around Fa’s shoulders and hers around my waist, with me leaning on her for support. Fa was stronger than she looked, truthing, but I hated the thought of her being disgusted with how rank I must have been as much as a part of me loved us being pressed together like that.

But I was bone tired and not thinking my best. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I was sinking fast. Eventually I just took the pleasure and necessity of leaning on her for what they were and half-sleepwalked my way back to the cabin with her. A dim little part of me tallied up the fact that Fa wasn’t chattering at me – not even trying – and that wasn’t normal. I didn’t know if I could stand it, truthing. So I talked.

“You can take this as disincentive training through negative instructor example,” I tried. Fa and I liked to make fun of the training manual lingo. Usually.

Fa gave one short laugh – more of a short exhale, really – and then stayed silent for the next few minutes.

Finally, as we got to our row, she spoke.

“That was really dumb, Chief,” she said softly, pulling me a little tighter to her.

“Affirmative,” I said, and drifted a little farther down into the sleepy feeling of my head being nuzzled against that flower-scented blonde hair.

Fa popped the door and I’d recked she’d dump me into my bunk, grime and all, and leave me to worry about wheedling an early set of fresh sheets out of the laundry crew later. Instead, I felt her propelling me into a turn as we cleared the door, and the next thing I knew I was being drenched in cool water. Fa had packed us both into the shower, fullsuits and all, and turned it on.

The jolt woke me up a little, and I felt the amazing sensation of laughing against her – me pressed into Fa, Fa pressed against the wall, and my forehead resting on the cool tile as she hugged me and we both laughed at the sensation of our boots sloshing with the water that trickled down through our suits.

Fa pushed my head back and I felt her slap a handful of shampoo into my hair and scrub it, moving my head around to get all the gunk out. I made a bleary attempt to look at her, and she said, “Cut that out. You’ll get it in your eyes.” So I closed them again and leaned back in. “I am not carrying you back to the med bay,” she teased as she knuckled a bit behind my year.

She popped the showerhead out to give me a rinse, then there was a little pause, and then I felt her gently tilt my head back again. Fa was carefully soaping my face and neck. “Eyes closed!” she scolded again, and I gave in. I couldn’t remember anyone ever taking care of me like that – not as an adult, anyway – and the feel of her gently smoothing her fingers over my skin made me go off plumb. My heart started pounding at the way she was touching me, but my brain just wanted to sink into it – to sink into her. To just let go trust her to take care of me and drift off to sleep.

Fa levered me back so I was leaning against the other wall and she had more freedom to move. She braced me with one arm and rinsed my face with the other, and then used her fingertips to smooth my hair out of my face.

My main seam was halfway down before I realized she was pulling off my fullsuit.

I lurched back so hard I cracked my head against the tile. When I stopped blinking, I looked down and saw that I had hold of both of Fa’s wrists and she was staring at me, eyes wide and as hurt as it’s possible for just one person to be.

I stared at her, mean, jumpy, and stupid. I know I had my mouth open, because the only thing that felt good about the situation was the water hitting my tongue.

“You were going to leave it on?” Fa asked, with less sarcasm than I deserved. “You’re a mess.”

“Sorry,” was all I could manage as I let go of her wrists. “I’m a little sparky.”

Well, once you’re crammed into a running shower with someone who’s seen you naked a dozen times, it does seem awfully tipnose to suddenly insist on privacy. And I’d already ruined the softness of Fa taking care of me. Ruined it hard. I couldn’t think of many things I hadn’t ruined lately. And now I’d just forced us to stand side by side and try to strip off and soap up like it was no big deal while we going out of our way not to look at each other.

Like I said, Fa wasn’t much the worse for her day’s work, so she gave herself a lightquick soap and rinse. And then finally she looked into my eyes again.

“You OK on your own?”

I nodded and she scooped up our boots and fullsuits, waving off my protest that I’d get them, and hopped out and left me to it. I scrubbed myself with a fury. I’d have beaten my head on the tiles if I hadn’t been afraid of landing myself back in the med bay.

When I finally got out, Fa had bribed someone to bring us trays from evening mess, complete with an extra water jug and some more of those hopfoul electrolytes from Jamila.

I thanked her too much and not enough, and she shrugged it off.

I drank and ate and drank some more while Fa studied a life support manual instead of chattering at me. I cleared the trays out and flagged a scootbot to take them back, then thanked Fa again and collapsed into my bunk, wishing I’d just stayed in the engine bay and shriveled into jerky.

Fa turned out the light, and for a minute or two, we were both quiet. And then she asked me.

“Don’t you like me, Bailey?

Not “Chief,” and not my last name, Yu.

Bailey. My first name.

It was on my ID patch and on my neck tag, but I didn’t think Fa had even noticed it. Almost no one called me Bailey, and Fa sure as thumping didn’t.

She wanted a plumb-straight answer from me, and I couldn’t give it.

I told her I liked her fine, which was way less than the truth, and said how we’d still work and go to mess and even rec together, but that it was just best that we split up for bunking according to regulations.

And then we both lay there thinking about the no fewer than thirteen different systems I’d already taught Fa to re-jigger so that they were more efficient but way off-regs. I’d given her bad scrap, and we both knew it.

Like most every night, I woke up later to the sound of Fa. Only this time she was sniffling, and her herky breathing was because she was trying to cry as quietly as possible.

Once on my first junk I spent three full shifts in a row belly-crawling through rat-infested air ducts to burn out a mold infestation.

I’d rather pull that duty all day every day for the rest of my life than hurt Fa like that again.

Aurora Awakening - Part 2

But finding a new cabin wasn’t as easy as I’d planned.

I went and talked to Jamila the ship doc first, since she and I had gotten to be good friends during the last run. She may be a med on duty, but she’ll tear your head off at spinhockey. I liked her fine and we understood each other, so it seemed like an easy jump that we’d make good cabinmates. Plus I recked she’d scan me when I explained that it just wasn’t ship-proper that I’d be bunking with my shout-to.

Instead, Jamila acted like I’d asked her to singe a couple of my toes off. She looked at me all strange, like her inner gyro was skewed, and asked if I wouldn’t rather think about it first. Who did she reck she was plugging into?

Of course I couldn’t tell her everything, but I made a hopgood argument as to why it was best, and she still wouldn’t pay it any scrap. She said she liked her bunkmate fine, but I could down some caff with her anytime I wanted to swap thoughts.

Thanks.

Plenty of people on the Aurora owed me favors, as you probably already inkled, but I couldn’t get anyone to pay up. My friends in Nav and on the swab crew were no jingle, and copypaste that for the galley, uniform, and basic maint crews. Guiterrez on the fire team recked I could switch into her tiny second-deck cabin if I hooked my cabin up to receive illegal scan feeds before I left and didn’t mind that her two bunkmates were on a love-hate cycle with alternate bouts of sex and fighting that could make the dead sit up and bang on the walls.

I said I’d get back to her. And I damn near did after that night’s performance from Fa.

Scratch, I still don’t know how she had the energy for it. We’d spent our whole shift working on the steam coils for the first hot growroom, since we were hopnear to making our first planet. To make sure the coils were clear and working, of course we had to turn them on, and natch there were a bunch of blockages that we had to find and clear. That was the horticults’ fault for not blowing and clearing them properly after the last run, but it was thumpsure our problem now.

Fa was down to just her tank and skivs within the first hour. I made it another two, but by that point there was no pretending I wasn’t melting in my fullsuit. And since Fa and I had seen each other naked or in skivs dozens of times by then, it was more awkward to make a point of not stripping off.

So I did. After all, I recked me in my skivs and tank was no big show, and Fa was going to stay like she was either way. All the same, I was off plumb, and Fa inkled it. Tension filled the room even faster than the steam did. I was trying hard not to look at Fa, which meant I wasn’t talking to her much, and that was making us both nervous.

Finally some poor third-rank horticult walked in on us climbing through the beams and pipes half-dressed, and actually gave a little shout of surprise before running back out. Fa and I hopnear fell off our ladders laughing, and after that it was easier.

Easier, but not easy. After we got the coils clear, we had to safecheck all the boil units under the floor panels. Once you know it, it’s a one-person job, so the crawlspaces were built with one person in mind. That’s efficient, like a light-crew ship should be, sure, but a real pain in the hams when you have to take someone down there and train her how to do it.

And this time that her was Fa. We spent three hours down there, sliding along with our spread-out fullsuits under our backs and working shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. We were both shining with steam and sweat, and more than once, Fa had to crawl right over me so she could see the gauge I was trying to tell her about. She crawled across my chest just the once, and then after that I thumpsure found excuses to flip over so she slid across my back. Because a panting, sweaty Fa pressed up against my back was so easy to take.

Between the steam and the work and the scent of Fa, I was dizzy by the time we finally climbed back out and suited up to go to our cabin. And what with seeing those lean, perfect legs of hers all day and the raw mental effort of feeling her skin sliding against mine most of the afternoon and trying not to let it affect me, I was falling-down exhausted by the time we got in. Fa let me peel off and shower first. I was a mess of emotions, and my head was full enough of Fa that I was tempted to give myself a lightquick release in the shower, but then I recked even a few extra minutes between me and sleep was no scrap.

So I stumbled out and nodded to Fa as she brushed past me – naked, of course – and didn’t even bother to finish toweling off my hair before collapsing into my bunk.

I fell dead asleep for a bit, but I was bang flush awake when I heard Fa hit the sheets and then snap off the light. I reck my system was just tuned to her at that point, and my body calculated that if she came into the room, it must be important.

I listened for her to settle down and stop moving, but she never did. I heard the soft rustle of her hands slowly moving under the sheets. She was so close and I was so tuned in to her that I recked I knew what she was doing.

Fa and I slept parallel, our heads even with each other. So I knew that when the rustling of the sheets was lower down, she was tracing her fingers up and down her thighs. And when it went higher up, she was circling her pretty little breasts.

She stayed there a long time, making only the quietest sounds with her movements, but starting to breathe harder and make those tiny, strained noises in the back of her throat. I knew she was brushing her hands over her pink little nipples, and I recked every time she whimpered she was dragging her thumbs across them or giving herself a little pinch.

The more I tried not to picture what was going on, the more my head was full of her. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and tried not to think about how much I wanted to be the one getting her to make those little sighs.

Her skin seemed so delicate, and her breasts were the palest part of her of all. I thought about how my tanned hands would look against them, and whether the row of calluses I had along the bases of my fingers would feel too rough to her or make her shiver. Well, if she found my hands too rough, I could always trace my lips over her nipples instead…

That one made my neglected clit throb so deep that I reflexively hunched my knees up and pulled the covers hard around my shoulders. She paused for a moment when she heard that, then I reck she regrouped. I heard the rustle of a hand snaking downward, then a rhythmic sound that I was thumpsure was the motion of her wrist as her fingers circled her clit.

Hellscratch. I began to think out how upset she’d be if I jumped out of bed and just tilted lightquick for the shower. There was no way I could get there without a convo I absolutely did not want to have, so I stayed where I was, rigid as one of our central loadbeams.

Fa couldn’t get where she needed to be either. As tormented as I was, I felt sorry for the poor squib. I heard her working faster, moaning in whimpering in what was sounding more like frustration than pleasure. Her whole body was moving by then, and she’d forgotten entirely about trying not to make noise.

I heard her throw off her sheets, and then her fast, jerky movements as she whipped off her skivs. Fa was three feet away from me, naked and fit near to blam with wanting to come. Suddenly the steam coils seemed refreshing and comfortable.

And I recked I understood what she needed, too. Sometimes the problem with using your hand is that you can’t surprise yourself. Most of the time that’s no scrap, but sometimes you just need the unpredictability of another person to make it happen. A sudden change in rhythm or the flick of a tongue you didn’t expect. Or sometimes you just need someone else to take you to a place you didn’t know you wanted to go.

I recked Fa would stop and yank the covers back over her if she heard me stand up, which was too bad for more reasons than I could count. A little patch of my brain was yelling that if I just went to her, she’d let me take over and give her that release.

I’d spent close to a decade fine-tuning delicate instruments and trying to find the tiniest fraction of sensitivity on any gauge I came across. I knew I could touch Fa the way she needed if only she’d give me the chance. I could tease her pretty little bubs until her head was spinning, then push her thighs apart and let my lips and tongue do what her hands couldn’t seem to.

I could still hear the faint noise of Fa working her clit and the sound of her writhing on her bunk. I recked she was pushing her hips right off the sleep pad.

I pressed my thighs together as I wondered how hot and tight she’d be when I pushed my fingers inside her and thought about the noises she’d make as I lashed my tongue across her clit to finally push her over the edge. 

And for the first time, my clit throbbed hard enough that a tiny noise of frustration welled up in my throat.

I was terrified she’d heard it, but I recked she didn’t have time to think about it because a second later Fa finally blammed. She let out one sharp cry and then rolled over and buried her face in her pillow to muffle the noise as she came. Four quick yells into the pillow, and then one long shivery release. 

Most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard.

Fa panted a few times as she recovered, then I heard her pull the covers up and sigh as her breathing deepened and she fell asleep.

Me, though? I was awake for hours, trying to cool down and wondering what in hellscratch  to do.