Chapter 6: Confessions of the Star Dragon

"So . . . remember the other day when you said you didn't have a problem with prostitution?"

"You mean the day before yesterday? Yes, I do."

"So . . . you don't really?"

"Remember? I just said I did."

"No, have a problem with prostitution."

Avocato looked up from where, stitch by careful stitch, he was repairing the band on Tribore's beret. The fact that Avocato could hand sew should not have come as any surprise, but it still surprised them. After rolling his eyes at the collective glee of the Team Squad and Tribore's over-the-top gratitude, he'd said, "When you're a soldier on the battlefield, you can't exactly just send out for new equipment."

It made sense, but it still amused. Little Cato alone was used to his sire's idiosyncrasies, and could, in fact hand stitch as well, just not nearly as neatly as his father. Though their jury-rigged radio transmitter was only halfway finished, everyone agreed Tribore's accessory repairs took precedence. Not even Quinn offered any debate after a dramatic dance of despair kept them from sleep well into the wee hours of the morning.

"Why the hell would I have a problem with prostitution, Gary? Like I said, I have cousins who are courtesans. Male and female, before you ask." He shrugged, getting back to sewing. "It's just another career. Why is it bothering you?"

"It's not," Gary said too quickly, then added lamely, "just checking."

Avocato knew better, and sighed. "Gary . . ."

"Earth isn't – wasn't so casual towards it."

"Yeah, well, earth was weird and now it's gone."

"Harsh but accurate," Gary had to admit.

"I try." He met Gary's eye, setting the sewing aside to focus on his husband. "Going to dodge the point all day?"

He shrugged. "I was considering it."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You could think less of me."

Avocato shook his head. "No matter what you did, Gary, no matter how bad or awful you might think it was, it can never compare to the things I've done. Trust me, I will not judge or think less of you. Or love you any less, for that matter."

Gary swallowed and nodded, needing no other reassurance. For Avocato, his word was his bond. He didn't need to wrap promises in oaths or vows or fancy packaging. And he was right – not that it was a competition, but Avocato was a xenocide not once, but three or four times over. Gary wasn't sure, Avocato wasn't willing to discuss it, and Gary wasn't about to press the issue. "So, honey, exactly how many species did you wipe out of existence?" wasn't exactly an ice breaker for dinner dates or cocktail parties. No one in galactic history had a higher body count or more baggage than General Avocato. Not even the Lord Commander, the little turd.

He dropped to sit on the ground beside the teal Ventrexian, stretching his legs out and scooping up a handful of purple pebbled to toss.

"So . . . Dad died when I was eight. Mom left before I was eight-and-a-twelfth. I didn't tell anyone at school, and didn't have any more family. I dunno why or how, but I fell through the cracks in the legal system and just kinda stayed in my house until I was . . . I dunno, fifteen or sixteen. Fourteen? Doesn't matter. I'd kinda taken to thievery to get by when all the money ran out, and people were starting to notice. On the anniversary of Dad's death, I burned the house down and left."

He pitched a few pebbles at a rock a few paces away. Every one missed.

"God, my aim sucks."

"Says the man who took out ninety-two imperium cruisers and a small, family-owned restaurant with one shot."

He smiled despite himself. He needed that reminder of his accidental skill. Seeing he'd spent his ammo, Avocato passed him another handful of rocks to huck.

"So . . . for the next few years I stole what I needed to survive. Then I started stealing stuff to sell. And sometimes . . ." He swallowed, drawing a breath and forcing himself to continue. "When things got bad, the only thing I had to sell was myself. And sometimes . . . it was just for a chance to be near someone."

Avocato nodded slightly, waiting for some big reveal. Gary stared, also waiting, but in his case, it was for some type of reaction.

"Well?" Gary demanded, almost offended and definitely disappointed by the lack of response from the studio audience.

"Well what?"

He spread his arms. "Major life confession out of your husband and you don't even blink?"

Avocato gestured helplessly. "What confession?"

Gary whipped a pebble at him in frustration. It beaned off of Avocato's body armor right back at Gary.

"I've been a prostitute."

"Yeah, I figured that out. Did we not start this conversation establishing the fact that I have no issue with prostitution?"

"Not even involving the father of your son?"

Avocato finally blinked, but it was in confusion at that convoluted claim. "Okay, putting aside that whole question of whose Ventrexian DNA is flowing through Little Cato's veins at the moment, and reminding you, Goodspeed, that members of my very large, very noble, sometimes very royal family are high-class courtesans, if I have no problem with prostitution, why would I have an issue with you working in that particular field?"

Gary had to think about it for a moment. Even in his own mind, his arguments were lame, but this just seemed too easy to be real. He felt tears burn in his eyes, frustrated that Avocato should just be so okay with all this. It didn't seem to him he deserved such instant acceptance. "Because it's me?"

"Do you want me to be upset?"

"Yes! No . . . more yes."

"You want me to get upset with you over something that doesn't bother me."

Gary ran a hand through his hair, this unexpected acceptance taking him completely off guard. "Okay, yeah, that sounds pathetic."

"No, Gary, it doesn't." Avocato shifted closer, reaching out to turn Gary's face towards him. "I get it. But I can't get upset. No matter how much you think I should sit here and criticize you, I can only be grateful you had the courage to do whatever it took to survive long enough for you to take care of our son for me. You were abandoned and neglected as a child. It takes a hell of a lot to make it against those odds." He shook his head. "Does it bother you that I was a slave?"

"No. Of course not, Cato! You had no choice."

"You're right. I was the price Ventrexia paid for peace. They knew what they unleashed. I like to tell myself I did it willingly, but really, I was sold. They asked me nicely to make this sacrifice, but my mother and my brothers and my friends and . . . Purrsis are on Ventrexia, and I'd already given everything to keep them safe. What was my life? The only thing I had to stay alive for was my son, and so I did whatever I had to. You're no different. You wanted to live. You did what you needed to."

Gary cast his eyes down, overwhelmed and glad for it. He had to remind himself that this was Avocato, his husband, the first person since John Goodspeed who had offered Gary a chance and friendship. The first person who had stood up for him and defied the galaxy and Quinn and the Lord Commander in order to safeguard him. Avocato, who had come back to him. Again. He took a long, slow breath, and released it before he said, "And now we're here."

"We're here together," corrected Avocato, leaning in to rest his forehead against Gary's. "Back to back."

And Gary Goodspeed closed his eyes, and smiled through his tears.

"For life."