Krystal
Every worst-case scenario ran through Krystal’s head. Had she deleted all the data? Had the soup—of all things—damaged the tablet irreparably and she would have to pay for it out of her wages? What about the ship? How stupid could she be?
She clutched at her chest, her breath coming in sharp pants.
Oh no. This could not be happening. Not here, not now.
She had been running the new cloak alongside the main AI for the ship, not wanting to change its programming without knowing the impact. That meant it only housed the program on the tablet. That was now covered in soup.
“Can you pass me the tablet?” She forced the words out, her voice hoarse.
T’arq reached across and, wiping a stray noodle from the screen, passed it to her. “It’s not damaged. These things can handle a beating.” He smiled.
She gaped at him as she blotted liquid from the screen with a cloth he handed her.
“See?” He leaned in a tapped a button, the screen coming to life. “We made these things able to handle hard use. A little soup wouldn’t hurt it.”
Krystal felt her chest ease and her knees wobble in relief. She sat heavily on her seat, flicking quickly through the tablet to make sure what T’arq had said was true. Then she checked again, just to make sure.
A broad smile split her face as she realized he was right. She hadn’t lost anything. She jumped to her feet and gave a little happy dance, putting the tablet safely on her seat first. Hands in the air, she closed her eyes and hopped on the spot.
An icy blast of air from the ship’s climate control hit her bare skin and Krystal froze, eyes wide as she looked down at herself. She was dancing around in her underwear and socks on a spaceship with a giant alien—a giant, extremely attractive alien—who was looking at her like he wanted to eat her.
And she was wearing panties with cartoon cats on. Great. She blushed.
T’arq blinked, breaking whatever spell had him frozen to the spot, and cleared his throat.
She shivered and wrapped her arms around her midsection. “It’s probably a long shot, but is there something else I can wear?” She poked with one foot at the crumpled mess of soup-soaked clothing on the floor.
“Not that will fit you, but I might be able to replicate something.” He reached above her head to open a hatch; his chest tantalizingly close. She breathed in deeply, the spicy scent of his skin, and whatever soap he used surrounding her. He pulled something from the hatch and took a step back, snapping the small compartment shut with one big hand. “Here,” he said, shaking open a thin blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.
Krystal tugged the ends together across her chest, surprised at how warm the lightweight fabric was. “Thank you.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Though I think I like the small felines better,” he said, lifting one eyebrow and winking at her.
Krystal ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. Would she ever not be an accident-prone mess around him? She sighed, looking up to see T’arq disappear through the door to the cargo bay, which slid open at his approach.
She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and shivered, shifting from foot to foot. The cold temperature of space was no joke, and this stealth ship was freezing now that she didn’t have the furnace of T’arq standing next to her, the cold soaking through even the thick socks on her feet.
Seriously, how did he run so hot? It was inhuman. Of course it was inhuman. He was analien. She curled up on her chair, feet tucked underneath her, and stared out the cockpit window and pulled the tablet onto her lap. Soon she was involved with her work once more.
“Krystal?” T’arq stuck his head out of the doorway some minutes later.
She climbed out of the chair and faced him. “Yes?”
“Here you go,” T’arq said, joining her in the cockpit with a flourish of fabric. “All done.” He smiled expectantly and watched her as if waiting for a reaction.
Vulnerable as she felt, she had to admit that he was doing a lot to help her feel comfortable, despite how cold her socked feet felt against the metal grille of the floor.
“What…?” Krystal stared at the deep purple-colored bundle in his arms.
T’arq looked down, then back up at her. “It’s your new flight suit. What do you think?”
“It’s purple.” She reached out and ran her hands over the soft fabric.
He smiled smugly as he watched her reverently touch his offering. “Yes. Your favorite color.”
She blinked at him. “How…?”
