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“Well, kind of … but not really. I mean, a fight can be an argument, but it can also be a battle with swords or guns or fists. So, when you said you were a warrior, I assumed you meant you fought the leaders physically.”
“Oh. I spoke wrong, then.” This disappointed me. I wanted to converse well with the beautiful human. Show my prowess with her words. This would not do. I could not impress her with my knowledge of her speech if my speech was wrong. “I feel … failure now. Apology for failure.”
She laid a soft hand on my arm. “Don’t say you’re a failure, Q’on. English is a shitty language to have to learn in any situation. Considering you’re learning without any context, you’re doing pretty well.”
Her words—and her touch—did something to my mate stick that few had. Certainly none since Mili’ana had caused myn’rilto rise like they did with this human woman. I wondered if a Xalanite could mate with a human. Perhaps breeding was not possible, but mating … I would very much like that.
The human interrupted my thoughts with a sigh. “I should be the one apologizing. I mean, you’ve traveled who knows how far, and I didn’t even offer you anything to eat yet.” She looks up at me through her eye-hairs. “Would you like something to eat?”
My nanites showed me many possible meanings to her words. She likely meant food, sustenance, but I also saw that her words could be interpreted as a mating offer. Images and memories combined with meanings to show me a fascinating human mating act, one that looked quite enticing. I pictured my own head buried between her legs, and myn’rilrose even further. “You mean … food?”
“Of course.”
A Xalanite curse slipped past my lips, and she cocked her head in confusion. “I don’t know that word.”
Forcing myn’rilto calm down, I spread my lips in what I had learned was a human sign of pleasure and affirmation—a smile. “You would not know that one. That was a Xalanite word.”
“Oh.” She stood, a fluid motion that spoke of her physical grace and prowess. “Come on. Let’s go back to the kitchen. I’ll fix you something.”
Kitchen. Food. Pity.
I followed her to the food room, happy to watch the swish of her hips as she walked in front of me. When we reached the kitchen, she opened a large metal box and bent over to look inside it. Again, a pleasing view.
“Do you prefer meat or veggies?”
I paused to allow the nanites to interpret the words. “Meat. Good for muscles.”
“Okay. I have some ribs I can cook up, but those take a while. Maybe just some quick burgers?”
“I do not know which part of the animal is a burger.”
The woman laughed as she pulled frozen meat out of the metal box. The meat was lumpy and packed into small, round discs. “It’s a bunch of parts all mixed together. They’re good, though. I’ll get out my mini grill and start it.” She stood on her toes next to a … cabinet? Yes. The stretch of her calves and back enticed me, but I did my best to keep myn’rilsoft. I did not want to frighten her again. “Damnit! I can’t quite reach. Could you bring me the stepstool?”
She pointed at the assistive device she wanted, but I realized that I could reach this “mini grill” on my own. Stretching my arm over her head, I grabbed the device and pulled it out of the cabinet. “Here. I am more height.”
“Taller.” She corrected me without malice. “Sorry. I shouldn’t nitpick. You’re trying.”
“Nit … pick …” Several strange images accompanied the words, to include a bipedal animal plucking insects out of another’s hair. Then the true meaning came through, and I frowned. “You are not nit picking me. You are teaching me. Thanks.”
A smile stretched her lips. “You know, you’re not so scary. Kind of cute, actually. I can almost forget why I ran screaming at the sight of you.”
Compliments. Excellent. “Thanks again. You are … not scary, either.”
“I can’t imagine you being scared of someone like me. You’ve literally fought in wars, while I’m just plain ol’ Amber. The most fighting I’ve ever done was in a courtroom, when my ex-husband tried to destroy me.”
I let her words simmer in my head until the nanites explained them. The delay between her speech and my understanding was frustrating. “Ex-husband? You can unmate someone here in this world?”
Amber’s next laugh was different than usual, and after a beat, a word came to me to describe it: bitter.
“I wish I could unmate him, as you say. Sadly, the few times we did mate can’t be taken back, though thankfully I never have to mate with the skeevy bastard again.” The device I’d gotten down for her beeped, and she placed two meat discs on it and closed the lid. They sizzled upon touching the metal, and a pleasant aroma wafted to my nostrils. “He fucked my best friend and her sister while we were married. Right down the hall, in the same bedroom we were just in. I’ve gotten over it—mostly—but sometimes it still stings. I mean, marriage, at least for us humans, is supposed to be for the rest of our lives. It sucks when it ends.”
Rage built inside me when her meaning took hold. “He mated with others while mated to you? This is unacceptable. Xalanites mate for life. We do not mate with others. Our mates are precious. Honored. Cherished.”
“Yeah, well, Ryan didn’t get the memo.”
I slammed a fist down on the top of the kitchen surface. Counter. “Where is this Ryan? I wish to speak with him.”
Her hand rested on my chest, fingers splayed, and I stopped. “Look, Q’on, it’s been a couple of years. No use trying to defend my honor now, though I do appreciate the sentiment. Let’s just let it slide this time, okay?”
