Right on cue, the door swings open with a lightcreak.
Tati steps into the room, carrying a tablet and wearing a pair of the loose blue clothes they like here, hell, I like them too—and that look gorgeous against her coppery skin. Her dark hair’s pulled back into a sleek bun, and her expressive eyes sweep over our unpacked boxes, the half-finished stone hearth, and finally, the two of us.
“Hi,” I tell her, hoping she didn’t hear my little admission.
“Hey Vael, Poppy. How are you today?”
“Fine,” I say automatically, which earns me narrowed eyes.
"Alright, you two," Tati says. She settles on the floor, her tablet on her knee. "Let's do our first check-in. The warlords want a full debrief before we clear you for colony integration. How are we sleeping? Any nightmares?"
"I am operating at peak efficiency," Vael declares immediately.
Of course he is.
"My defense protocols are in place, and my mate has successfully claimed eighty-five percent of our closet space without initiating a fight."
"He's doing great," I translate, offering Tati a sheepish smile. Word has it she’s married to a former assassin, so if anything, she gets this alien weirdness.,. "And I'm... getting there. Still having nightmares."
Tati lets out a soft, sympathetic chuckle, her fingers tapping a few notes into her tablet. "That's normal, Poppy. You were in a highly volatile environment. It will take time for your nervous system to realize you’re safe. We need to unpack that layer by layer. Today though, I want to talk about how the mating is going?—"
A chorus of high-pitched giggles and running feet echoes from the path outside our open window.
I blink, shifting my gaze past Tati to look out onto the sunny lawn.
Marching in a somewhat orderly clump is a group of about five toddlers. But they aren't normal human toddlers.
They are the most adorable hybrid toddler babies I have ever seen in my entire life.
One little boy—no older than two—has soft, nearly human-colored skin covered in tiny, shimmering green scales along his chubby arms, jumping several feet off the ground as he tries to catch a glowing butterfly.
Another little girl, with peachy-yellow skin and a thick tuft of curly black hair, toddles along behind him, her tiny tail wrapped securely around a plush stuffed animal. They wear matching sun hats, led by a very patient-looking Suevan who is carrying a basket of fruit.
My breath catches.
"Oh my god," I squeak. I slide off my box and scramble toward the window to get a better look, my eyes wide. "Oh my god. Babies? We can... we can have babies together?"
I whip my head around to look at Vael. He marches toward me, eyes tracking the tiny toddlers outside.
"The biological compatibility metrics of our species are... highly functional," Vael rumbles. “Imagine your red hair and my red hide." He beams at me.
I turn around in his embrace, grabbing his shoulders. "Vael. We need to make one. Right now. We need to fill this house with chubby little winged babies."
"I am entirely prepared to work at this," Vael agrees. His tail wraps securely around my leg, pulling my hips flush against his solid thighs. "Now?"
"Hold your horses, ," Tati's voice is like a bucket of ice water.
We both freeze, slowly turning our heads to look back at the medical officer.
I forgot she was there.
Tati sits cross-legged on the floor, her tablet clutched to her chest, looking at us with the long-suffering expression of a doctor who has had to deliver this exact lecture to every single hybrid pairing on this planet.
"Let’s get through unpacking the trauma circus from the last few weeks first, shall we?" Tati says. "Poppy, you literally just told me you have PTSD. You went through your first heat, and that’s no joke on a human body. Plus, you’re still getting to know each other. The last thing you need right now is the hormonal chaos of a hybrid pregnancy and then to take care of a newborn."
"I don't know, Tati," I say. "I think a little baby-making might be therapeutic. It’s a great way to relieve stress. Very low impact. Well, high impact, but in a good way."
"I believe we should practice making babies immediately. For morale," Vael says in the most deadpan way possible, and I bite my cheeks to keep from laughing.
