“Endorphins released during sex assist in Xalanite healing. It is a biological fact.”
She scoffed. “Bullshit.”
I grinned and nudged her shoulder. “You are the farm girl, yes? You would be the expert in bovine excrement, I suppose …”
Leigh laughed and gave my arm a light smack. “Jerk!”
We shared a laugh, then a kiss. I much preferred the latter.
“So,” Leigh said when we stopped for air. “Any other pressing matters to tend to before we plan our wedding?”
Epilogue
Leigh
The month between the rescue of the Xalanites and our wedding went by in a flash. I went from Wisconsinite farmgirl to Xalanite bride in the blink of an eye, and I loved every hectic second of it.
It turned out Xalanites didn’t have a tradition of white wedding gowns, probably because of their vastly different views on virginity and breeding. Being “unmated” wasn’t considered any more pure than anything else, so they opted for gowns that showed off the deep purple Xalanite scales.
Hot pink.
Hot, neon, the-eighties-called-and-they-want-their-color-back pink.
While not a bad color on my complexion, it didn’t exactly scream “bride” to me. I mean, when I had my first fitting, I felt more like I was getting ready for a teenaged prom than my wedding.
The dress was a strapless design, which made sense for Xalanite women because they had more boobs to hold up the yards and yards of fabric that weighed down the skirts. My tailor had to do some creative cinching and darts to get mine to stay up when I walked, which gave my girls some added lift. The cleavage in this thing was out of this world!
After the fitted top and breath-stealing waist, the rest of the gown flowed in layer after layer of a transparent Xalanite fabric that felt even smoother than silk. There were enough layers to keep me from being exposed, but that meant I had to learn to walk properly in the voluminous garment. I couldn’t believe that Xalanite women, who usually got married in underwater ceremonies, were actually able to swim in these things. Apparently they managed, though; I learned during the process that the design was centuries old and quite popular. If dozens of generations of Xalanites survived aquatic weddings in this type of gown, then I guessed it couldn’t be too bad to swim in. Maybe something about the material kept the gowns from getting tangled in the brides’ legs.
The look on T’raat’s face when he saw me in it was enough, though. Keeping the dress a secret prior to the wedding was also not a Xalanite thing, so he insisted I put it on at home before the big day, just so he could get a sneak peek. He almost ruined it trying to peel me out of it, though, because apparently the sight of me in a traditional Xalanite wedding dress was enough to send hisn’rilinto hyperdrive. If I hadn’t already been pregnant, that night would’ve clinched it for us.
Yeah, that’s right. Shotgun Xalanite wedding. Pretty common as more Xalanite men began to meet and hook up with human women. Their little swimmers apparently had some punch to them, and the ninety-five percent pregnancy rate for interspecies couples suggested that our eggs were as helpless against Xalanite advances as the rest of our bodies.
Things didn’t seem to work the other direction for human male-Xalanite female couples, though those were fewer in number to begin with. Even with the advances Xalanite culture was making on feminism and equality, very few single Xalanite women could afford to visit Earth, and those who could often had to be accompanied by at least one male Xalanite guard atall times, making the actual dating-and-mating process more difficult in general. It was hard to tell yet if that was the leading factor in sterility for those couples or if it had something to do with biology.
From the gossip I heard, though, it wasn’t due to lack of trying. Human dudes went absolutely apeshit for the Xalanite boobage.
Aside from playing Barbie doll to the Xalanite tailor, I found out I had very little to do as far as wedding prep went. T’raat took care of almost everything else, from venue to decorations to guest lists to the menu. He kept it hush-hush, too, occasionally asking my opinion on something before running off to the loft, where he’d taken up residence again until we could get our own place, to plot.
I didn’t even know if we were getting married on Earth or Xalan until the morning of.
Ceremonial Xalanite spaceships were a trip. I was accustomed to the standard design, with the sleek, simple lines and complete lack of style.
The ship that arrived on Dad’s farm to take us to Xalan was nothing if not stylish.
Elaborate swirling metal panels covered the exterior of the ship, mimicking oceanic waves. Ultra-fine curls of some shiny material ran along the edges of the waves, and the effect was similar to seafoam. The urge to touch the foam was hard to resist.
Between the waves were undulating iridescent windows that only added to the illusion of a liquid vessel. They were almost opaque, just barely transparent enough to see glimpses of the crew at work inside in the form of vague shadows moving about. They seemed to float rather than walk, and I briefly wondered if the interior of the ship was full of water. Did they forget that Dad and I didn’t have gills?
My fears turned out to be for nothing as the hatch opened and a ramp extended to let us inside. The same wavelike lines and oceanic patterns extended to even these parts, and I had to be careful how I stepped as I ascended the ramp. I worried that I’d trip on a decorative wave or get my skirts caught in the foam, but somehow I made it inside without faceplanting.
The interior of the ship took my breath away, and I had to stop a moment to appreciate the beauty of it. Tiny ethereal lights floated seemingly in midair along every ceiling, lining corridors and rooms and giving the whole place a heavenly glow.
Standing about ten feet apart each, crew members dressed in what looked like their finest white formal uniforms lined the main walkway, extending their hands to Dad and me as we headed forward. The first two took our hands and led us onto the ship and down the first hall. We stopped at a set of gilded doors, and our guides spoke in unison.
“The bride’s quarters. Enjoy your stay as we journey to Xalan.”
They bowed and moved aside to let us in, and I let out an audible gasp of delight as I saw the room’s décor.
