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A/N: Presented on the occasion of @momochromeââs birthday.
Inzee is an OC of @momochrome. Source (at her writing blog)
Warnings: Claustrophobia implied, angst with a happy ending. (3240 words)
 * * *
âI need to tell you something.â
âAnything, angel.â
Youâd known this was coming. Heâd been out of sorts for days. Unusually quiet and slow to respond. Calling a rain check for date night. Even his quiet time tending the garden every morning didnât seem to be bringing him the peace that it had before.Â
Today, Inzee was slumped over the kitchen table, gray-skinned head resting between two massive webbed hands. He wasnât upset, you noted, the markings on the back of his head bore only the faintest bit of color. But his pointed ears seemed to tell a different story, drooping down. You sat down next to him and smiled patiently.Â
He sat with furrowed brow, collecting his thoughts, giving you plenty of time to look him over and be struck once again by how large he was. You had met other Eistirs over the last few years on Enphe, which is how you came to realize that Inzee wasnât considered particularly muscular. Still, a lifetime of space work had kept him in shape, and what passed for lithe strength on this planet was positively enormous by Human standards. He stood well over two meters tall, with arms as thick around as your thighs and a body to match.Â
âIâm glad we decided to settle down.â He hesitated, his four eyes fixed on you, nervously watching for your reaction. âBut Iâve got to fly again.â
âWhat do you mean?â
He grunted. âIâm just going stir-crazy from being grounded for this long. I havenât sat around on Enphe for more than one orbit since I was a child.âÂ
Like you, heâd gone to space as soon as he could, following that ephemeral string into the sky, hoping beyond hope that he would find where it led. That was where the similarities ended. Somehow, he seemed to enjoy it, which had always been baffling to you. Your experiences of space travel were spartan, weeks if not months of cramped quarters, bad food, and poor hygiene. When you were in Terran-charted space, you at least had a crew to keep you company. But most of your years of travels were spent far beyond it, in torturous solitude. Components were damaged with each jump, and the hours that you werenât spending repairing the tin can were filled with tedious calculations to properly chart your course. That far out, the navigation systems were nearly useless. When they broke along with everything else after the nebula jump, you didnât even bother to repair them.Â
âDo you not like it here?â You knew the answer, but you still didnât understand what he was getting at.
âMy sweetheart, you wound me.â He clutched his chest, and you flashed a faint smile. He seemed to be feeling a little better than when youâd first come out, at least. âI love it here. I think Iâd love anywhere if you were there. Somehow I just needââ Suddenly his eyes drooped, too ashamed to look at you anymore. âI mean I thought I was just out there searching for you. But maybe I was looking for something else, too, or else this feeling should have gone away, right?â
You nodded slowly. It made sense. You might have been the talkative one, making friends everywhere you went, but he had always been more inclined to adventure. You worked well together, as soulmates should, quickly collecting a large group of like-minded friends all around the world. Soon your leisure time had been positively filled with friendly banter and silly games, and with the effortless travel afforded by Eistir teleporters, there was no shortage of sights to see. At first you had assumed that he was taking you to his favorite spots, but he confessed that most of the time he was visiting for the first time too. Iâve been all around the galaxy, he said, shaking his head, but Iâd never known my own backyard.
That life of your dreams had turned into a lump in your throat. How long had he felt this way? He had leased his ship when you agreed to settle back onto his homeworld, when you both thought that your days of flying were behind you. Suddenly, those terrestrial travels seemed like a paltry replacement for extraplanetary flights he could no longer have. Why hadnât he said anything? Did he not trust you?Â
No, no. That didnât matter. He was telling you now. He trusted you now, and judging by the look on his face, he needed you now. You could worry about the past some other time.
You reached over to rub his shoulder, and ducked your head to meet his gaze. âInzee, look at me. I love you.â He smiled, ears twitching. Every time. âYou know how I feel about flying. But honestly, youâve been a mess recently, and it breaks my heart to see you unhappy. So if you need to take a trip every once in a while, we can do that.â
He didnât seem entirely convinced, but his skin brightened a bit more, cupping your hand in his. âYouâre really okay with it? I donât know how much time Iâll need. I could be gone for a while.â
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. âHonestly, angel, I donât know. I have some really dark memories of being in a ship. But youâll be there this time, which will help.â He bumped his forehead against yours, one of his cute little gestures that never failed to charm. âOr at least, we can try. I mean, this has to work out somehow, right? Weâre soulmates, for godâs sake,â you said, twanging at the string that bound the two of you.
âYeah, youâre right.â He pulled away, sighing. âWell, I would rather get my old ship back, if I can. Thatâll probably take a while.â He looked you over with concern. He would never say that he didnât believe you, but you both knew that there was more to be said. âMaybe I can start working on that, and you can think about it? Make sure youâre okay with me being gone for a while?â
âBeing goneâ?â He couldnât possibly think that you would be staying home? âIâm going with you, you do know that, right?â
âWhat?â He seemed genuinely shocked. âNo, Iâm not going to ask you to go back on a ship again, youâve made it plenty clearââ
A fire rose in your gut; you could hardly believe what you were hearing. âListen, Inzee.â He snapped to attention at your sharp tone. âI dragged this tiny Human body halfway across the galaxy just to find you. And there isnât a darn thing in it that could pry you out of my sight for a second.â He gulped, and then, much to your amusement, shivered. It made sense. He wouldnât be used to hearing that voice in the daylight. You were tempted to push him further, but reluctantly waved the thought away. Plenty of time for that later. This was serious.
But he must have smelled your thoughts, because he completely failed at concealing his laughter. Shaking his head, he whispered, âOh, what could I possibly have done to deserve you?â
You grinned. âDo you want an itemized list?â
 * * *
It did, indeed, take a while. Days passed and then blurred together as the long series of infuriating telecoms and paper trails paraded on. The red tape brought out a side of Inzee that you had never seen before, not just tenacious but assertive. He navigated the Eistir bureaucracy with an efficiency and ruthlessness that was almost frightening. And, ultimately, effective. After an eternity of wrangling, he managed to wrest back control of his old ship from the rental agency.Â
On the morning that everything was official, he could hardly contain his excitement. He put a blindfold on you and stepped you through the teleporter, its buzzing sensation a long-familiar nuisance.
"Okay, take it off!â
As soon as the blindfold fell, you were immediately knocked breathless.
The two of you stood on a grated platform that ran along the rim of a gigantic circular room with vaulted ceilings. Sitting in the center you saw the characteristic green wireframe of a holographic starmap. It was massive, at least twice as big as any you had seen, and the room had clearly been sculpted around it; the projection equipment tucked into the arch of the ceiling, control panels on all three levels of the platform. The far side of the room was a windowâ a single curved sheet of glass that must have been at least two stories tall. At its edges, it faded into elegant yellow walls covered in vast black screens, woven together by veins of blue and purple crystals and a dizzying array of bright buttons. Eistir script flashed on a few of the screens, some projecting smaller holograms of their own. The room was silent, save the quiet whirring of the machinery and the occasional beeps of a droid buzzing overhead.
âWelcome aboard,â he said, his thick arms squeezing your side.
âThis is your ship? Itâs as big as our whole house!â
âNo, I donât, donât think so.â His skin flushed blue. âI mean, the boy is, itâs probably, itâs not quite asââ
You hit him playfully on his side. âJeez, you idiot! Why did you ever give this up?â
He cupped his hand around his ear, all eyes looking at the floor. âWell, I didnât need it, anymore, once you found me, you know, and anyway, you didnât seem so keen on flyingâ and I didnât really give it up, I guessâ we got it back, you see?â
You barely registered his stammered response, still taking in the grand scale of it all. âOh, sweet heavens, I would have given the whole galaxy to fly on your ship.â His stories flooded back into your mind, and finally standing in the bright, open space, their reckless enthusiasm suddenly made sense. Of course you would love to fly if you got to fly in this beauty! This wasnât a budget rocket slapped together to get you one or two jumps away. This was a ship made for adventure.
No, not quite, you remembered. It was, in fact, a science ship, designed for acquiring and testing specimens. You whipped your head around, looking for where the experiments might be run. But as far as you could tell, everything you saw looked like navigational equipment. âWhere do you keep your collections?â
His markings glowed, intense with regret. Oh. Right. Immediately you embraced him, resting your head on his cool skin. âIâm sorry.â
The ship had been rented out, and the new astronauts would probably have collections of their own, so his had to be dealt with. He figured the data would be useful to someone, so he spent many long afternoons cataloguing everything; giving the local scientists anything they would take, and carefully documenting the rest. You had begged him to just bring them home and be done with it, but he insisted that he didnât have the equipment to store them. He was so torn up about it, but there was nothing to be done.
âItâs okay,â he said, quietly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you savored his thick scent. âThereâs a collections room.â
âThereâs a what?â you demanded, jerking your head back. You were so taken aback, youâd forgotten that you were supposed to be soothing him. He tilted his head, confused.
âA⊠collections room? Uh, to keep everything organized?â
Your jaw dropped, and your eyes spun around the chamber. âThereâs more?â
Finally understanding, he chuckled. âAh. Yes, my love. Come on, I can give you the tour.â
âHoly shit.âÂ
Your mind was reeling as you followed his lead along the grated platform. He turned abruptly and the wall parted, revealing a short corridor, not quite wide enough for both of you to fit at once. He took your hand in his and you walked through to the other end, where a similar portal opened into a new room.
And when he stepped in, it was Inzeeâs turn to gasp.
âImpossibleâŠâ
You rubbed your eyes as you adjusted to the light. This room was admittedly less grandiose than the navigation room, although still beautiful in its own way. It was smaller, but possibly even taller, with locker-like doors of all sizes lining the walls. A mess of Eistir script was scrawled on most of them, although it had clearly been rubbed off several of the larger doors at your eye level, replaced with more careful, steady handwriting. It wasnât much to look at, you thought, but your partner was shell-shocked.
âWhat is it, angel?â
âThey couldnât have left all of it.â He started pacing around the room, sliding his hands across the glyphed doors. His body trembled as he pressed on one and it hissed open, letting loose a puff of orange steam as a shelf slid out. âSweet oceans, they did.â He pressed frantically on the doors, drawers and tanks emerging.
âI canât believe it.â He jumped back to you and swept you off your feet, practically lifting you up in the air. âItâs all here!â
He was still shaking as he squeezed you. You grinned like an idiot to see him so happy. âI thought you cleared it out!â
âI couldnât bring myself to do it.â He returned an embarrassed smile. âI made all the records and put a note in the system asking them to remove it. Maybe a bit rude, but I couldnât bring myself to actually throw it away.â
You finally gave in to your curiosity and pressed a door open. The tray that emerged was dense with easily a hundred pencil-thin glass tubes. Some of them were empty, it looked like, while others were foggy and bore subtle colors. âAtmosphere samples,â he crooned, sliding one along the webbing between his fingers. âFrom the Kredar supersystem. A lot of gas giants.â
Your eyes widened. âWait, is each one a different planet?â
He laughed. âThereâs a couple repeats, probably.â The words hit you like a truck. Nearly a hundred planets behind this one door. In a room filled with doors, wall to wall, floor to ceiling.Â
âI canât believe they left it all behind.â
You giggled, despite yourself. âYou left it all behind.â
He let out an exasperated sigh. âYou know what I mean.â
âIâm just teasing, angel,â you said, squeezing his hand. âIâm going to make you tell me about every one.â
âGood thing Iâve already taken notes.â One of his eyelids closed clumsily, and you stifled another giggle. Youâd been trying to teach him how to wink, and he still needed a bit of practice.
You slid over one of the ladders attached to the walls and climbed up a few rungs. âHmm, whatâs iiiiiinâŠâ you waved your hand around a section of the doors. âthis one?â You slapped one of the larger squares. It opened cleanly, with none of the fanfare of the others, and a glass box rolled out, filled to the brim withâÂ
Lego?
âYou have got to be kidding me.â
Inzee clutched his sides as he bowled over laughing, nearly falling on the floor. âOh no! Donât tell me you have those evil buggers too!â
You grabbed a handful of bricks. They were a little different than you were used to, lacking the familiar branding, some a bit misshapen. And they were clearly not all made from plastic. Some were metallic, others almost leathery. Throwing them back in the box, you glared at your partner, still wheezing on the ground below you. âWhat are you on about?â
He was gasping too hard to speak. You shook your head and hopped off the ladder, looking him in the eye as you shook him gently. You tried to appear unamused, but you werenât sure if you were succeedingâ it was adorable to see him like this, and his smile was infectious.
Eventually he calmed himself down enough to explain. âNearly every race that we have made contact with has invented some version of those things. Not too hard to believe, I suppose, a toy for curious children that gets replicated across worlds.â He shook his head, another chortle busting through. âBut you would think that someone would have found a way to make them that doesnât hurt like hell when you step on them.â
âI cannot believe that the common thread uniting civilizations across the galaxy is fucking Lego.â
âCome on, thatâs not the common thread. We all do language, water treatment, fusion, that kind of stuff.â Inzee snorted. âBut yes, it is a incredible coincidence.â
âOh, that gives me an idea. We should swing by Earth!â You frowned, one complication of that plan springing quickly to mind. âWell, it is pretty far away, weâd have to fly for a while. But you donât already have Human-Lego, right? And Iâm sure thereâs other collections we could fill out, too.â
âOh, that sounds wonderful!â His markings swelled with blue, and he spread his arms wide in deference. âI would be honored to visit your homeworld.â
âHow soon can we start?â
His eyes were so bright, you swore you could see by them. âWhatâs gotten into you, my love? Just a few days ago I thought you were ready to call off the whole thing entirely.â
âItâs your ship, Inzee. Thereâs so much light and space. I can breathe in here.â As if to demonstrate, you loudly inhaled through your nose. He shot you a bemused glance, and you stuck out your tongue. âOh god, you should have seen the tin can I flew here in. If I could have had this, everything would have been better, Iâm sure of it. This ship, your ship, itâs amazing.â
He had been soaking in your words with an awkward sort of pride, as if you had been praising him rather than his ship. Perhaps you had been. But at the end, his expression suddenly softened, and his skin glowed a bright red. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close.Â
âNo, my love. You are amazing.â Towering over you, he leaned down to join his eager lips with yours. His hearts pounded blood through his body, and you felt them as if they were your own, the rhythm of the kiss synching to his hypnotic pulse. You nursed it, squeezing him as you deepened it, his quickening breath sending tingles up your spine.Â
Neither able nor willing to control yourself, you stepped forward, urging him toward the wall. He gave in to your demand just as instinctively, shrinking back further and further until you slammed him against the doors, pinning him down. He could surely have broken out had he wanted, but the blue heat radiating from his skin told you he had no such desire. This was a man bent on fulfilling your fantasiesâ or, rather, a creature, an Eistirâ any interest you had in the details vanished completely as his silky hands slipped under your shirt, the light touch of his webbing teasing soft moans from your chest.
In retaliation, you slid your tongue into the fork of his, but when he tried to lean in, you pulled away completely. You smirked wickedly at his quiet whines, lifting his chin up with one finger and setting your gaze into his eyes. âShow me to the captainâs quarters, angel.â
"ApĂłs o assassinato de um proeminente polĂtico de esquerda, um investigador tenta descobrir a verdade enquanto os funcionĂĄrios do governo tentam encobrir sua participação."
Sempre soube o que se escondia por trĂĄs do sorriso.
Eu nunca soube como voltar atrås. Mas veja, rapaz engraçado, barba mal feita, eu o vi sem jeito e era aconchegante a sua expressão. Confesso, nunca vi olhos castanhos tão bonitos quanto aqueles num dia chuvoso.
Fazia tanto frio, mas me recordaria daquele rosto se o visse de novo.
Que garantia tenho de que existi para ele?
Sei que sorri, andei e vivi, e quem sabe um dia, a gente se esbarre por aĂ.
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