Jaxar

Vanessa:

"What am I wearing? What happened to my clothes?" Van shuffled over to the table and sat down in the dark kitchen. The power was off, no big surprise. She and Esme kept solar-powered lanterns and candles at the ready as the power went out often enough during big storms, but she couldn't be bothered to fish them out. She'd be asleep soon. The short walk from the medical center to her bungalow wore her out. Wearing a sleeveless tank top and loose-fitting bottoms, she felt the chill in the air. Someone at some point had undressed and cleaned her. Van found she didn't particularly care, but that was probably the medication.

"I have them here," Jaxar said, holding up a white bag. "That is the second time you have asked."

"Oh, sorry," she said without sincerity. Jaxar set a glass of water down in front of her and she drained it in a long gulp. The pain meds kept her disconnected from her body and her mind couldn't seem to hold onto anything. Information slipped through her fingers like sand.

"You need sleep. Which room is your bedroom?"

"Kind of forward of you, big guy, talking your way into a gal's boudoir on the first date." Boudoir. Another funny word. She giggled, then covered her mouth because it was rude to laugh, and then leaned to one side in the chair. Jaxar's firm hand on her elbow caught her. "Sleep?"

"I'm sorry. It's the pain meds. Totally removes my inhibitions," she said, struggling to get to her feet. That fact that Jaxar looked good enough to lick didn't help matters. He probably had a six-pack, or his six-pack had a six-pack, all rippling abs and hard planes. His thigh was as thick as a tree trunk. Despite his massive size, he moved with grace and precision and complete lickability.

Brilliant. Now she really wanted to lick him.

"Don't worry. I'll be grumpy tomorrow. Grumpy and sore. A true delight," she mumbled.

"Promises, promises," he said in a placid tone.

They shuffled into the bedroom and he maneuvered her to sit at the edge of the mattress. Despite not feeling much of anything, her movements were stiff. Light filtered through the window, highlighting the most agreeable parts of his face. His lips. They looked succulent. Ripe. She just wanted to smash her mouth against his, which was such a bad idea, but it had been so long since she had anything between her legs that wasn't battery-operated that smashing mouths together seemed like a really, really good idea.

His gaze scanned her, searching for clues to her wellbeing, and paused on her shoulder. The way his eyes widened with recognition was as effective as a cold shower. Desire shriveled, leaving her feeling more lonely than usual. "That was Havik. He's not around anymore," she said. Her eyes watered, not because she missed her stupid ex-husband. Don't be dumb. This was the meds wreaking havoc-ugh, such a terrible choice of words with her emotions. She pressed her fingers to the corner of her eyes, trying to stop the tears. "I'm not sad because I miss him. I don't. It's just nice having someone care for me." Being alone was exhausting. Waking up, day after day, having only herself to rely on, knowing that if anything terrible happened, she had only her wits and will to get by, took a toll.

"You're so nice. Like really, really nice," she said, unsure why she couldn't stop the verbal spewing. Brilliant. She sounded stoned. "Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep. I'm sorry. I know I don't know you and it's a lot to ask, but I like you. Thank you for helping me."

"I like you too. There is nowhere I'd rather be." He helped her under the blankets.

It was the drugs. That's what she told herself as she closed her eyes. Tomorrow she'd be embarrassed and deny everything she said. She knew better than to get involved with a Mahdfel. She barely knew him, and he probably wasn't nice, no matter how safe she felt with him sitting at the foot of the bed. He'd reject her when he learned the truth, just like always.

Jaxar:

Jaxar waited until Vanessa's breaths evened out, indicating she had fallen asleep. He tossed her clothes into a cleansing unit and prepped the load for when the power returned. A fine layer of red dust had settled over every surface in the small house, so he cleaned first with a cloth, then with a broom. The sun moved across the floor, marking time. He checked the cabinets to determine the available sustenance at hand, as his female would be hungry when she woke.

Not his female, he reminded himself. His head might know it, but his heart disagreed. His cock felt as if Vanessa belonged to him. Fortunately, his heart and his cock didn't get to make decisions. Well, that often. They certainly had opinions. Tea. He needed tea. His mate-not his mate! would want something to soothe her throat and he needed the activity to focus his thoughts. Manually lighting the gas cooktop took little effort.

Vanessa already had a mate. The claiming mark on her shoulder attested to that fact. She said he wasn't around, which he interpreted as deceased, but her eyes watered as she spoke. Clearly, her heart belonged to her deceased mate. He would be wise to not become involved with the widow, but once again his heart and his cock refused to listen.

"You're new," a voice said from the front door. A woman, pale and sallow with exhaustion, tossed her bag on a table in the entryway. "Did Van bring home another stray?"

Jaxar swallowed his first reaction of demanding to know who these strays were. Instead, he explained the concussion and need for supervision. He poured two cups of tea. The female sniffed her cup and took a cautious sip. "Well, don't get too attached. Van's not like that," she said.

"Like what?"

"You know," she said with a lazy wave of one hand, "interested." In the fading sunlight, her skin appeared flushed and perspiration beaded her forehead.

"And you're an authority on Vanessa's interests?"

"I'm her roommate and friend, so yeah, random alien guy, I think I know her better than you." The woman set down the cup and pressed a hand to her abdomen, suddenly even paler than a moment ago. "What's in the tea? I don't think it agrees with me."

She vomited onto the table, emptying the contents of her stomach.

"I will summon a medic," he said tightly, rearing away from her. He could not allow this female to infect his mate.

"No doctors," she said, then heaved into the sink. She gripped the edge of the counter and panted, as if waiting for the next wave. "Oh." She clutched her belly, then ran for the cleansing room.

Ignoring the female's demands, he contacted Medical. "I have a Terran female who is vomiting. Is it contagious? She has had no contact with my... Vanessa but I fear the abode is contaminated," Jaxar said, grimacing at the trail of bile on the floor.

"She is not your mate," Kalen said, his voice tired.

"That is not the issue!" he snapped, but his mind was already spinning, planning. Had a plague broken out on the moon, he would remain by Vanessa's side. He had no fear of contracting the illness. Mahdfel did not catch common ailments. "Relax. Bacteria contaminated the water supply in the shelters. It is not contagious. The female who is not your mate, who is barely your acquaintance, is safe. I'll send a medic to retrieve the patient," the medic said, disconnecting the call. With a glass of water, he approached the cleansing room. Sounds of dry heaving and a bitter aroma filled the air. "Female, do you require assistance?" he said cautiously.

"Oh no. Everything is just peachy here. What do you think?" The female kneeled on the floor before the toilet. Sweat plastered hair against her forehead.

"A medic will be here shortly." He gave her the glass of water.

"I said no doctors. Typical. You meatheads never listen." She pulled herself up to the sink and rinsed out her mouth.

The escort arrived. Jaxar recognized him as the younger brother of the head of security. "No available medics," Lorran explained.

"I'm not going with him," the female said, still leaning heavily on the counter. "I just need to sleep, and I'll be fine. I'm already feeling better." She stood up straight, as if to prove her point, and immediately her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she crumpled to the ground. Lorran caught her before she hit the floor.

"They are all reluctant. Is it me? Do I smell?" He adjusted the female in his arms. "No worse than usual," Jaxar replied.

"Ha! Before I go, Medic Kalen says to remind you that this is not your mate and he will not hesitate to sedate you if you turn into an obnoxious pain in his ass."

He knew. He knew. Vanessa still had feelings for her deceased mate, this Havik, but his instincts still urged him to protect and care for her. "Send him my warmest regards," he said with a forced smile and set about cleaning and disinfecting. On his hands and knees, he told himself that he would do this for any injured civilian. He pulled Vanessa from a vehicle about to burn and had an obligation to see this through. Nothing more. Vanessa's intelligence and sharp wit did not influence him. They had only exchanged a handful of words. She still grieved her deceased mate. There could not be an attachment between them.

He would do this for anyone. He would.

He lied.

He was already attached, which was the height of foolishness. He knew almost nothing about the Terran female, but he knew she was for him. While he found her form attractive, the fierceness in her eyes drew him in and inspired his heart to beat faster.

Perhaps his conversation with Rohn had disturbed him more than he expected. Rohn had located his mate, Nakia, learned of their pregnancy and confessed that he planned to retire. Jaxar congratulated his friend on spending the rest of his days with his growing family, but he also felt envious of Rohn's good fortune.

Not of Nakia, though Jaxar liked the clever female. Their conversations while he repaired her prosthetic device had entertained him beyond measure. A small, bitter voice inside him whispered that Nakia could have been his mate. He had been matched to her just as Rohn had, but she chose Rohn. That was not the source of his envy, however. Nakia was a friend, but he did not feel their personalities were compatible.

He was envious of the idea of her or of Rohn having a mate and, soon, a son. The steady progression of life once again removed his closest friends, leaving him alone once more.