When She Dances

Tikosa straightens and glances at the glass partition, where Zakoar’s still working. “I take it the two of you are going to leave once he’s done?”

He doesn’t look embarrassed, but I’m the one that blushes. He’s no doubt heard all kinds of cries coming from this office in the last few days. Zakoar’s been on a teasing kick, withholding my orgasm until I’m about ready to claw out of my skin, and then makes me come so hard that I scream like a banshee.

It’s fun.

I bite my lip, trying to hold back a smile. “Probably. Do you need him for something?”

The assistant hesitates, crossing his arms over his chest. His black hair is slicked back between his horns and tied in a top-knot to keep it off his face. His hand goes to his head and hesitates, as if he wants to rake his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. “I just…he seems very happy lately. With you.”

“Thank you?”

Tikosa purses his lips. “He’s…less driven. Actually leaves the shop. I bet he’s even sleeping a full six hours a night.”

Five, actually. He usually wakes me up with a quick fuck and lets me go back to sleep for another hour or two while he goes through his daily communications and incoming messages. “Is that bad?”

“No, it’s good.” He thinks for a moment. “And bad, I guess. It’s just not the way he works.” He crosses his arms over his chest, scratching at his tunic idly. “He does his best work when he’s obsessing. That’s the part I’m worried about. When he can’t quite figure something out, or if someone has a special request, he’ll just take hours and hours—days, even—and go into the zone. He won’t come out of this room for anything, just works until he solves that problem.” Tikosa looks thoughtful. “He hasn’t been like that since he bought you.”

It sounds awful, and I’m glad he’s not like that. “But you think it’s bad for business?”

He shrugs, keeping his gaze carefully on anything but me. “The military keeps their mods secret, you know. Everything Zakoar does here, he’s had to come up with on his own. He had to think of ways to get around the fail-safes they’ve established, how to wire things that have no instructions. He’s brilliant…and a lot of that brilliance comes from those driven moments.”

I’m a little wounded to hear that. I thought Zakoar and I were a good team. He looks after his clients and I look after him. But if what Tikosa says is true, my presence is more distraction than anything else. It’s true that he’s taken a lot of half-days since I’ve arrived, spending time with me instead of working. That’s why I do his inventory and help with what I can. But…I don’t want to interfere with Zakoar’s success.

I don’t want him to resent my presence, either. So I smile brightly at Tikosa and try to deflect. “It’s just temporary, you know.”

“What is?”

“My presence here.” I keep smiling, even though I feel like ice inside. “Zakoar’s just keeping me until he’s tired of me. Then he’s going to take me to a place where it’s safe for humans and free me. It’s an agreement between us.”

Tikosa is surprised. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Yup,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “He doesn’t want to keep me and I don’t want to stay.” I sit down at the desk again, staring at the piles of bolts I’ve been sorting, and bite the inside of my cheek—hard—to keep from crying.

“Oh,” is all Tikosa says again, and then leaves, shutting the door behind him again.

My vision blurs. I put my hands in my lap and clasp them tight, trying to center myself. Trying to will my tears away. It’s been a month since Zakoar bought me as his temporary slave, and he hasn’t brought up the farm planet Risda and…I haven’t asked. Truth be told, I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to start all over on a farm planet all alone. Now that I’ve got Zakoar’s protection, the station isn’t so bad. I don’t even miss fresh air all that much. I could stay here forever and be happy, I think, as long as I’m with him.

He makes me happy. I love Zakoar’s reluctant smile and how I can be sassy around him. I love how attentive he is, how protective, and despite his fearsome demeanor, he’s got a good heart. His work is important, and he’s helping people with what he does. He doesn’t work for free, of course, but I’ve seen him make payment arrangements with people that don’t have a credit to their name, all so they can benefit from his work sooner rather than later. I love his good heart, and I love his mind, and I love the way he touches me, as if I’m something special and precious.