Again I bring the mug up to taste, and the “coffee” is exceptionally bitter as it hits my tongue. But I drink a full mouthful anyway because Fiona clearly likes it, and there must be a reason.
“Interesting,” I say after swallowing. It has a complexity of flavor hidden underneath the bitterness. “I can see how one would develop a taste for it.”
She shows me what she’s making for breakfast, and I do my best to assist. When the sausage is cooking and the toast is… toasting, the door to the basement opens and Shathar steps out.
He is not wearing a shirt, to my surprise—only his leggings. His body is lithe, but his muscles are defined, which I didn’t expect of an Arshurian of his age and profession. He comes into the room rubbing his eyes, and then he stops when he sees me.
“Half naked for breakfast?” I ask, smirking. “Dignified.”
He shrugs. “It was very warm downstairs.”
“Oh, shoot!” Fiona pauses while cracking an egg. “I forgot to turn down the thermostat. Sorry. I’ll show you where it is next time so you can control it yourself.”
Shathar smiles. “Thank you. It will just take a few minutes to cool down, and then I will put on one of my new shirts.”
I don’t like that he’s up here with all those bare scales showing. He might even look attractive to Fiona. He is certainly good-looking by Arshurian standards, which fills me with even more irritation.
Fiona goes back to cooking, and Shathar approaches the counter.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“No, no.” She pats his arm affectionately, and my fans rise on my head. They are already so close? “Go sit, have some coffee if you want.”
“Coffee?”
“It is a delicious beverage,” I call out from the table, and Shathar spins around. “I will pour him some, Fiona.”
While she continues cooking, I find my way to the “coffee pot” from earlier and find a cup with a handle for him in the cupboard. Shathar watches me with suspicion as I pour the coffee into the cup. I do not offer him the “creamer.”
When Shathar takes a sip, he lets out a yelp. “Hot!” He pulls it away from his mouth. “And so bitter!”
I chuckle, sipping from my own cup. “Weakling.”
He hisses at me, and I hiss back, until I hear Fiona say, “None of that crap this early in the morning!”
We both back off, but Shathar shoots me one last dirty look as we each sit on opposite ends of the table. Unfortunately, it is a small table, so we are still rather close together.
We both endeavor not to exchange a look or a word until breakfast is served. After we’ve all eaten, Shathar scoops up the dishes before I can and takes them to the sink.
“All right, I have to go to work,” says Fiona. “Please don’t get into any trouble today, okay?” She shows us both into the living room where she flips on the television. “Feel free to watch TV. There are some movies, too. Maybe you guys can figure it out together.”
Then she’s gone, and we are left to our own devices.
Shathar picks up the remote as the television starts to play, pressing buttons to figure out what they do. The volume rises, and I cover my ears.
“Turn it down,” I gripe.
He lowers it again and I roll my eyes, wandering away to find something else to do with my time. There are two sliding glass doors in the kitchen area that lead to what appears to be a private yard, so I head outside to see the sun. There is a table with two chairs on the concrete pad, so first I do my exercises, then I sit in one and bring out my communicator. I will use this time to study humans even more and become as useful to Fiona as possible.
The day passes slowly. At lunchtime, Fiona emerges from her office to take us to the tailor’s and be fitted for Earthling pants. Luckily, the old woman announces after taking a good look at us, she can simply adjust some existing jeans to fit. Fiona lets out an immense sigh of relief at the prospect of simply having them modified with straps to fit over our tails.
After our fitting, we make lunch.
“I’ll be done with work soon,” Fiona tells me as she heads back to her office with a sandwich. “Then we can go out, all right, Khesan?”
“Capisce,” I answer. She giggles as she heads back to her work, leaving Shathar and I sitting at the kitchen table.
He shoots me a suspicious look. “What is this ‘capisce’?”
