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Croach/Sparks implied


Onus

"Hey, you wanna grab the coffee can outta my bag, Croach?" I called over my shoulder as I turned the squirrel we'd caught over the spit. The Martian rifled through my pack and found the can of Workjuice grounds I'd sent him for. He held it out to me, then paused with it just out of reach. I grit my teeth.

"Croach, c'mon, we ain't playin' the 'Sparks Nevada is a teeny tiny human with laughably short arms and legs' game. Just gimme the coffee."

He looked down at it, enormous eyes glittering strangely in the firelight. "When I give you this can, Sparks Nevada, I will have fulfilled my tribe's onus to you."

"That so?"

"It is."

A lengthy silence drew out between us, and I prodded at the crackling fire as I tried to think of some witty remark, some scathing retort, something, anything, to pretend I didn't care.

"You sure?"

"I have kept cautious tally of the onus owed you these years. I am quite certain."

"Really?" I pressed. "Even with'n all the times I've saved your life-you're welcome, by the way-from robots and science beings and the like?"

"I have done a more significant portion of the life-saving, Sparks Nevada."

"Mm, no."

"Yes, I have."

"Nope, I'm pretty sure we're even-or uneven, the bigger half belongin' to me."

"Sparks Nevada I have saved your life on seventy-two separate instances. You have saved mine eleven times."

"Wait, only eleven? You sure you're countin' right?"

"I am certain."

"No, no, what about that time...with the cyborg rattlesnake?"

"The rattlesnake which you, believing it was deceased, left waiting for me in my sleeping area? The rattlesnake which was very much not deceased, which subsequently proceeded to strike me three times? The rattlesnake which gave me such wounds as would not have been survivable without the all-healing power of Nah Notek?"

"That, that is not what happened."

"I remember it quite clearly."

"Mm, no. You're rememberin' it wrong."

"Sparks Nevada, take your coffee."

"No, I don't need it anymore."

"You asked me for it, and here it is."

"I told you, I don't want it."

"Sparks Nevada-"
"Look, just put it back."

"Sparks Nevada-"

"We'll be awake all night if'n we drink coffee now anyhow."

"Sparks Nevada are you attempting to keep me under onus to you by prolonging the acceptance of the coffee."

"No!"

"Then accept it, and release me."

We stared at each other long and hard for a moment-his arm outstretched, holding the can in his long, four fingered hand. My fists clenched tight. Neither of us moved, I don't think I breathed.

"Sparks Nevada, your squirrel is burning."

"Wha-ah, dammit." I lurched after the burning meat, blowing on the charred skin. No good, it was burnt to hell.

"Were you able to save it, Sparks Nevada?" Croach asked directly behind me, and I thrust the blackened carcass at him.

"What do you think? If'n you hadn't distracted me with yer-yer Onus crap, I'd be eating lightly grilled squirrel right now. But no. Guess we get to eat beans tonight. Beans and disappointment."

Croach was looking at me oddly as he set the can of coffee down.

"Would you say that this inconvenience to your person would constitute me being placed under onus to you?"

"What?"

"Would you say that this inconvenience to your-"

"No, no, I heard you, I just…" I dropped the squirrel in the dirt, folding my arms crossly. "See? See what ya did? You're under onus to me to go get me a new dinner."

"I will do my best to fulfill this onus," he replied without the slightest hint of irony in his voice, and I tried my darndest not to smile.

"Oh, and you never actually gave me the coffee, so."

"Do not push your luck, Sparks Nevada."