There's a dull pause as Raine studies us, his eyes detached and his posture indicating that he's disinterested. He's tall, really tall, and the shadows coming from overhead make his eyes look like empty black sockets. "I'm glad that you know my name. And you are…?"

"Gregg and Original," Willow cuts in. I notice a distinct change in her voice, but the particular emotion that's been added is impossible to pinpoint. "I invited them over for drinks."

"You know I don't like it when you get drunk."

"It's only one drink. I don't get drunk off of one drink." Raine doesn't look convinced. He stalks across the room, his arms swaying almost as though they had extra joints.

"So… Gregg, Original. What do you two do for a living?"

"I'm a soldier," Gregg answers, his voice on edge.

"I work in the central library," I answer politely, keeping my eyes on my drink. There's something condescending about Raine, almost as though he'd decided he was too good for us before he met us.

"Splendid. I always support our troops, and it really is the little people that keep this ship running."

A spike of energy tickles up my back as my antennae stiffen at attention. What does he mean by little people? I'm not that short. I realize full well that he's insinuating that I have no actual importance as compared to him, but I've never been one to be insulted by stuck-up Irkens.

"And what, exactly, do you do, Mr. Raine?" Gregg asks, his voice dripping sarcasm as his arm snakes protectively around me.

"I am the absolute head of Smeet Engineering, as was my father before me. What I say goes, there are none that dare challenge my authority," he answers darkly as helps himself to the bottle of wine, pouring out a perfect glass while staring at us. "In fact, without my father's say so, you probably wouldn't even exist," he finishes, taking a delicate sip of the wine.

"Honestly, Raine. If you're going to be a bastard you might as well leave."

"I don't want to leave. This is more my nest than yours anyway, my monies pay for it."

Willow's eyes are bright as she stands up, coming only to Raine's collarbone without her heels on. "You forget, darling, that I make almost as much monies as you do. In fact, I would be making the same amount if I had a ding-dong between my legs." Finishing up her tirade, Willow sighs dramatically. "Too bad the fact that I've mated with you doesn't count."

Surprisingly, Raine does not react to Willow's accusation. He merely yawns. "Willow, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. Please send your friends home."

"Oh, no you don't! The nest is mine this week! Go back to your office and sleep on the floor like you always do!" Her voice is increasing in pitch, her antennae are standing up as high as the weight of her curls will allow, and her eyes are flashing with fire.

"We can… excuse ourselves…" I say, stepping nervously towards the door. In a moment, Gregg is beside me, our shoes in his hand. He pulls me out the door even as I weakly try to protest that I don't have them on.

Once the door shuts, Gregg hands my boots over to me. "Sorry. But I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. The air was getting pretty heavy."

"You're a quick thinker, honey," I compliment, kissing him gently on the cheek. He blushes a deep green, still not used to the idea of showing affection in public. "How did you know who Raine was?"

"I tried to get some information on Willow, to make sure you'd be safe around her." His eyes narrow as he says this. "All I found was that the vast majority of her past is locked up so that only high-clearance officers can get at it."

"Off course! She's pretty high-ranking herself, and they don't want to leave anything open for blackmail." I look back towards the closed door as we slip away. "The one thing I can't understand… why would someone like her ever mate with such a…"

"Bastard?"

"I was going to say meanie, Gregg."

Gregg laughs, but says nothing on the matter at hand.

~

The day of the big test arrives. I have no less than three alarm clocks set to get me up at least an hour before I normally would. After one quick look over my notes and a prayer to the heavenly Irkens that watch over us, I slipped beneath the sheets.

Standing in line to get my ID checked and be admitted into the test room, my knees knock together with nervousness. I'm not as calm as some of the would-be scholars are, but I'm not nearly as bad off as the ones whose faces have gone white or are silently clutching their abdomens in pain.

Moby gives me an antennae-up as he's rounded into the robotic devices waiting pen. After all, they don't want any electronic cheating. The test begins promptly at eight, and I'm ready to go…

I only wish I could remember how to spell my name.

An intense six hours later the last hopefuls straggle out of the testing room, shaking their hands or rubbing their eyes. I'm surprised I can even walk anymore; even at work I get breaks more often than once every six hours. My joints hurt from being in a bent position so long, and I'm limping because my left leg has gone to sleep.

Gregg's at work until late that night, but I don't want to merely sit around and brood on whether or not I passed the test. There were so many I didn't know, but so many I also did know… and so many questions seemed like trick questions, so I didn't know how to call it.

Picking up Moby, I look in the direction of Willow's nest. I know that Willow likes to drop in on me, but perhaps it would be fun to drop in on her. It would certainly shake things up a bit, and Willow didn't seem like the type to be fixated on maintaining normalcy.

I take the winding glass staircase two at a time, since I lack the fear of heights that cripples my poor Gregg. Wandering down the hall, I walk towards the familiar plant that I picked up on as a landmark from my first visit. This is it, I think, pressing the bell to warn the occupants that they have a visitor.

I wait outside the door. Nothing happens. Perhaps my idea was ill conceived. After all, she might still be at work, or she might have gone out after work. Willow didn't even seem like the type to attach herself to places.

Just as I was turning heel to leave the door opened, sending a shadow from Raine's slender form across me. I freeze in place, trapped in the sharp claws of an invisible monster. I am afraid that he's going to rip into me as he did the first time I saw him.

"Miss… Original? That was your name, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice smoother and calmer than the incident a decent while ago. "Please don't run away. I want to apologize for being so rude. You see, I got a bit tipsy at the celebration, so I really wasn't thinking about what I was saying." He pauses, then looks away. "No, that's really not excusable. I said some detestable things because I was too hammered to use my mind straight, but I shouldn't let alcohol be the excuse for my bad behavior."

I wave my hands frantically, still backing away from him. "No, no, it's perfectly okay, Mr. Raine!" I cry, just wanting to get out of there. "Your apology is fine!" Whether he's apologizing or not, he's still creepy, and I'm still afraid that he's going to freak out on me.

"No, it's not okay. You're scared stiff of me. Won't you please come in? Willow should be back any minute now, she went to the store to buy anti-burn cream."

"Anti-burn cream?"

Raine's eyes suddenly change. He's said something he shouldn't have, didn't want to, didn't mean to. A dark cloud seeps into them as they twitch violently, before his previous polite disposition returns.

"She burned her finger while trying to make a fried dish, I guess she wasn't thinking about the fact that we didn't have any medication before she had an accident," he half-laughs.

"Yeah, accidents aren't well thought out. Mr. Raine?"

"Call me Raine, we don't need formalities between friends of friends."

"Right," I nod, nervously. My voice is strangely even more subdued than normal for me. "Can I use your waste disposal room? I haven't been near a bathroom in six hours, and I was drinking soda all day."

"Of course, young one! It's right there," he says brightly, pointing me in the correct direction.

"Thank you," I say, setting Moby down. "Moby, please sit quietly. I'll be right back."

After running cleansing gel over my hands I dry them and attempt to throw the disposable hand towel in the trash. It hits the rim instead, plunking on the floor. Unhappy with my lack of sports coordination, I bend over.

As I throw the towel in the trash, I notice a familiar white jar in the trash. I know it's garbage, and I know I shouldn't be digging around in other irken's trash, but something in my head is giving off an alarm signal.

I pick the canister gently out of the trash, feeling slightly disgusted as I lift up an empty jar of burn medication. It's large and completely used up but only seems to have been purchased less than a month ago. Now, I know I could assume that Willow is rather clumsy, but from what I've seen of her that doesn't seem right. Something isn't adding up, and suddenly I'm very afraid to be alone in the apartment with Raine.

As I leave the waste disposal room, I let a panicked look slip into my eyes. "Oh no! I was supposed to meet Shiana at the lunchroom five minutes ago! It completely slipped my mind. I'm so sorry, Raine sir, but I've got to go! I'm already late."

Raine looks up from the paper he was reading. "Oh, must you go? All right. It's been pleasant speaking with you," he says as I run towards the door, Moby pressed against my chest.

Only once I'm down the twisted staircase do I allow myself to collapse to my knees, gasping for air. I must look like a fool, my eyes wide as I pant and hold my chest, sitting on my haunches on the floor of a busy hallway. I don't care. I am not what you would call the paranoid sort, but there was definitely a bad vibration coming from Raine, and I knew that I didn't want to be around to find out why.

I relate this story to Gregg as we cuddle in his incubator that night. I didn't really feel safe for the rest of the day until the very moment when I could press my face into Gregg's broad chest, breathe in his masculine scent, and let my frightened tears flow.

"Paranoid? No, I don't think you were being paranoid. Women's intuition is very strong, in my experience," he says, lifting my face so his dark eyes bore into mine. "And I'd rather have you being wrong and looking like a fool than having to live with never seeing your smile again."

"Gregg…" I whisper, truly honored to be in the arms of such a man. His hands are on my spine, tracing the contours of my pak and slowly down my body. I push them off of me, rolling over so that I don't have to face him. "I'm not ready to go that far!"

Gregg's hands gently fondly my antennae. I can't see the expression on his face, but I imagine it's one of either contemplation or gentle hurt. "My angel, my love, I promise I'd never hurt you. Please. I love you. You love me. We both want this…"

"Not until we're mates!" I cry, pulling my antennae out of his grip.

"Original, who cares what a little piece of paper from the Empire says? You're my mate in your soul, and I'm your mate in my soul. Nothing could take us apart now, nothing. Please."

"Shouldn't you be studying?" I ask, still refusing to look at him. He gently grabs my chin and turns my face around so our eyes are locked yet again.

"How can I study when you're all that's on my mind? Your face, the contours of your body, the scent of your hormones, all occupy my thoughts constantly." His hand squeezes mine. "I long to see you without your clothes on."

There's a hesitant, long pause between us. It couldn't hurt to give in just… just a little bit, could it? "Is that enough?" I ask. "I mean, can I do that for you, but not go… all the way?"

Gregg kisses my face, then sits up and slides his own elastic shirt over his head. "Darling," he says, "If I can be with you without being ashamed of these scars, why should you be ashamed of your own beautiful body?"

I've never done anything like it before. Even doctors let you undress without their presence in the room. My fingers seem heavier, thicker than they ever have before. I can't believe I'm having such trouble with an action as simple as dressing myself.

"Can I help you?" Gregg asks, his hands reaching out in support.

"No! I… Please, Gregg."

He retracts his hands, looking dejected. It's colder than I realized in the incubator, and my first instinct is to cuddle up to his warm body. However, at that time we've both been reduced to the bodies we were born with and nothing more, and I'm hesitant to touch his nude body or let him touch mine.

He's nonetheless studying it, ever curve, the parts of a body on a warm living female that are normally restricted to male eyes. "You're so beautiful," he says. It's a breathless declaration, but the fact that his eyes never leave the v between my legs while he speaks make me feel a bit creeped out by the whole thing.

I immediately grab my pants and shove my legs back into them. My face is absolutely emerald. "O, what's wrong?" Gregg asks, reaching out and touching my shoulder. I recoil from him.

"Don't touch me when I'm undressed!" I squeal, my voice foreign to me. "You can touch me when I'm dressed!"

Gregg sits back, simply studying me, not making a sound or a judgment. Finally, he folds his legs up under his body and shuts his eyes. "You're afraid. That's okay. The last thing I want in this world is to hurt you." He opens them again. "I'll wait until you're ready. You're worth waiting for."

"S are you. Once you've passed your test, then…" I tremble a bit. "Then I'll be yours without shame."

"And I'll be as gently as I can," he smiles, brushing his fingers down my face. "Let's sleep, my angel."

With that, I lay beside him, my face between his neck and shoulder, as we drift off to a beautiful, mutual dream.