I woke up to the wall beeping that we were an hour away from the first planet. I turned to tell Mickey, and found him face down in the pillows, not moving. My hand flew to his pulse, the other to his shoulder. I couldn't move him and instantly my heart rate accelerated. I felt the tug of panic as my fingers scrambled at his neck.
His pulse was there, and his breathing was steady once I pulled his face away from the pillows. That slowed my heart rate slightly, but I still felt the adrenaline rush in my body. Mickey woke with a start.
"What?" he asked confused, seeing my face, still with the traces of panic, hand on my chest.
"You scared me!" I exclaimed. "By all the hells, how do you breathe through the pillow?" Mickey smiled at my scolding.
"Sorry, I never think of that. I often sleep with my face in the pillow" he confessed, and I shook my head slowly.
"Well, at least it woke me up all right" I said. "We're an hour from planet fall" I said, and moved out of the bed. A hand grabbed my arm.
"Where are you going?" he asked, confused at my leaving.
"Just to take a shower" I said, kissing him lightly. "I'd invite you along, but there isn't space" he laughed at my sass, but when I slipped from the bed he fell back asleep. I got the feeling he hadn't dared sleep properly for a long while, and had a bit of catching up to do.
The shower gave me time to think about my decision to go clean, and I decided it was something I would like to do, so I dumped the syringe's dosage down the toilet. I tossed the rest of the stash too, even though there was little left: I had planned to buy more on the Kremlin stretch, but if I had nothing until then I would have been clean for several days, and that was a good start. I was told the first few days were the worst, making you sleepy as your body lost the energy supply it had come to count on. I knew I would sleep late, but by every estimation, it might just be as long as Mickey slept, in which case there was no problem. The headache I could deal with: a strong cup of coffee. I dressed silently watching Mickey sleep. He seemed so completely at ease that I got sleepy again.
I firmly headed out of the room, going into the kitchen and getting that coffee. I hated strong coffee, but I downed it faithfully and by the time I was in the cockpit steering the ship closer to the planet the caffeine had kicked in and the headache was smaller and I was wide awake.
Planet fall came easy here with a friendly atmosphere, and the unloading took a bare amount of time, as I received the second half of the payment for my things. The exchange was pleasant, the people having needed the raw goods I had transported to produce further on the market. It was clear from the way they talked they were thinking of opening up an industry. I offered cheerfully to do more dealings with them, even giving them the number to one of the lines connected to my ship, telling them to give me a call if they needed more raw goods or machines (at a reasonable cost, of course). They seemed quite happy to accept it, and I saw the boss tuck my card into the production folder, which was a better hint than if he tucked it in his pocket.
They arranged for me to come by in a few months to see what they needed buying and to search the market for reasonable goods. I added their planet to my common route.
Takeoff was easy after that, with a light cargo I could set a good speed to the Kremlin stretch, faster than normal at a mere eight days. Walking into the back, I saw Mickey in the kitchen. I couldn't see him properly as I had cupboards hanging from the ceiling and cupboards underneath them to reveal the chest part of a man cooking omelette without a shirt. I sneaked around the divider, having shed my shoes to walk silently across the floor and get up behind him. I waited until I was right behind him when I sprang, but he turned in the last second and caught me in his arms instead.
"Damn" I said happily. "What gave me away?"
Mickey grinned and pointed at the shadow on the floor. I hadn't even thought of the light cast, but it went past him, so he could see in on his far side in the corner of his eye as I sneaked up.
"Hope you like omelette" he said as he lifted me onto the counter, pressing himself against me.
"Love it" I murmured, kissing him. My legs wrapped around him and for a moment I forgot all about the omelette. "Guess what?" I gasped as his lips moved down to my throat. I tilted my head back, feeling his breath on the sensitive skin.
"What?" he murmured against me.
"Its eight days until next planet fall" I said, and he smiled.
"Eight days of you all to myself" he said. "I think I can live with that." I could only agree, because I had been distracted by his unbuttoning my shirt.
We remembered the omelette before it got black, but meals for the next three days came sporadically when we managed to get hungry enough to drag ourselves away from each other.
I don't think I could ever get enough of Mickey. Sometimes we simply lay and talked, and he told me of his life. His raise in stature to a drug lord happened a few years ago, and he was still building a powerbase. He had entered another arena all together, and the heist was just one of a string that he was doing to build up resources. I was right in thinking the minerals stolen were now being processed.
He told me little about his family, but what I heard I guessed they were a family that dated in a more or less straight line back to the original planet. It explained his accent, since I gathered his family was very proud of it. I couldn't get any family members names out of him, so I suspected they were dead. This was confirmed when he mentioned a house he had inherited on a planet called Shorn.
I also learnt of his personality. There was much of a child in one part of him: his love of the Game. He even viewed the drug wars as a game. He acted as he knew that there was a joke in the universe that explained everything and that he was a few words from the punch line. I always had to laugh when I thought of that.
There was another side of him that I saw too over those eight days. It was when he was at his work; I saw a determination that spoke clearly of a will of steel and a streak of cruelty towards the other players that was the trademark of those in the drug circles. It made for a complex person, and especially now, when he felt free of the restrictions that went along with the life of a drug lord. Here on my ship he could be himself, and I found that it was something that I felt would never get old.
The pangs of the drugs passed swiftly and I felt more optimistic than I had ever felt, that maybe I had really beaten it this time. I got used to waking up later, though every morning I had to check his pulse: the idea of him breathing through his pillow rubbed me the wrong way, and I knew that it would take a lot before I wouldn't panic at the thought.
By the eighth day I felt as comfortable with Mickey as I had been alone. This ultimate bliss was only overshadowed by my constant worry, gnawing at me and my confidence. I felt like it was too good to be true, to have this perfect man.
I sat and watched old westerns with Mickey as he emulated the people on screen, saying some lines after them when their accents were particularly thick, and then I would wonder if he would once use those lines on me. I liked watching the films, however: they gave me an excuse to do nothing, as my body was fighting on the road to recovery and exhaustion was a constant companion.
We would eat dinner at the table, munching down something thrown together. It was perfect, but I knew he would have to leave. I listened in the radio every day, and heard the hunt for him mentioned less and less. The new cycle was moving on.
On the eighth day we hit the Kremlin stretch and again Mickey stayed aboard as I went out to the Market and bought and traded to me the goods that I could sell onwards.
I had to actually hold my breath as I walked past dealers I knew dealt in sugar blue. I had to avoid the temptation. Once past, I smiled to myself. I knew I could do this; it was only a matter of not being around the drug for long enough.
Looking into the centres, I found the medicines I was looking for but they were more expensive than usual.
"There's been an attack on our supplier's planet" the nun said mournfully when I downscaled my amounts. "We can't sell as much so things can go very badly"
"Well, your herbs and bandages and the like are very cheap" I said, and she nodded, face still mournful.
"But who buys those things? Those herbs and such only work for those who know how to use them"
"You wouldn't happen to know a place that sells herb books?" I asked on inspiration.
"You could buy some of ours" she said hopefully. "We're selling off what we can to keep the orphanage afloat"
"I'll buy enough of those to sell with the herbs to the colonies. The books will probably be better received anyway. We orphans have to help in any way to our siblings" I said piously, and she turned sympathetic.
Leaning on my parentless past, I got the prices at a special deal, and when I left the nun looked considerably more optimistic, having just cleared out half of the stock she had up to sale.
I walked back to the ship happily, thinking of the massive deal I had brokered, and bearing with the sled loaded some smaller boxes of the normal medicines I would sell on the side.
Those were expensive though, so I would only sell them if the colony would go for the 'alternative' medications. Having glanced through the book, I saw that the 'herbs' were the base components out made modern medicine out of and knew they had every chance of working.
Glancing up as I came back to the dock, I saw the ship open. This made me suspicious at once, because Mickey had said that he had no intention of stepping foot outside the ship while his head was worth more to others than it was to himself.
I looked up at the cockpit, and saw that the room was still empty. I had locked the room, telling him honestly that whether he was caught or not, that ship was not being flown away. He had laughed and said nothing to it.
I tapped my watch, which doubled as a distance connection to the ship, and started reading the data. There was more than one person on the ship. Glancing at it, I guessed someone had found Mickey but I also guessed that they weren't any solders or some such since they would happily drag Mickey off the ship to the cells.
Glancing through the data, one of the programs I had written while I still wanted Mickey and Milligan off my ship sprang to the screen. I grinned an evil little smile, and wondered how many men were aboard.
Pulling around, I took the sled to the back entry, and had the sentry help me load the things.
"My boyfriend is with us, but he's real sick." I explained to the sentry. "I'd better call up and give him some of the medication I got for him." The man nodded. I headed around.
"Hey, Mickey!" I called up the ramp. "I'm back around the ship loading. I got that stuff you asked for. Be up in a minute" there was a silence from in the ship.
Right on cue, the sentry called around loud enough to be heard on board.
"He might be asleep, ma'm" he said earnestly. "If he's got that flu my son-in-law had. Then it might be best to finish off here then see to him."
"Okay" I agreed and walked back to finish loading. Once done, we parted ways with the sentry wishing my man the best in health.
I headed around the ship, box of medication in my arms, timer for the program set.
"Hail the returning victorious!" I declared grinning, stepping on to the ship. "I have it here" I raised the box slightly, and then pretended to freeze in surprise at the group that stood there.
Mickey was sitting in a chair at the table, gun to his neck. There were two men behind him, one sitting on the sofa and another on the table, muddy shoes on my nicely upholstered chairs. My eyes caught to my painting on the back wall, and the great big slashes right across it, running the painting forever.
"Set the box down and move away against the wall" the one on the table instructed. I did as I was told.
"My painting!" I said, voice raising some octaves. "Have you any idea how long that took me?"
"No" the one on the sofa replied, clearly not caring either. He then looked me over, eyes stopping at my hips and chest. His face twisted into a grin. "But if you were my woman, you wouldn't have time to paint a wall" he leered. I shuddered.
"What's in the box?" the one on the table asked me.
"Medications" I said honestly. They all laughed.
"Well, medications indeed. Perhaps it's best if I check, don't you think?" he replied.
"They're in for a disappointment" I said directly to Mickey. "It's all just cough medicine like you asked"
"Don't worry darlin." Mickey responded, "These are the types who work around disappointment" the others laughed again. One of the men approached the box.
"I wouldn't do that," I warned. "It could get unpleasant"
He ignored me, and opened the box. The pulse beacon I attached to the inside of the box shot up his arm and he collapsed in a heap. Suddenly I had all the men pointing guns at me.
"I said it would be unpleasant. He didn't listen" I said evenly. It was about one minute left, so I had to play for time.
"Why did you trap the box?" the one on the sofa asked harshly.
"I had to deliver it unopened, so I figured a small trap might be the best if someone tried to go for me" I shrugged. The one on the sofa put his gun away, laughing.
"Peppy. I like you, you fascinate me" he gave me another sick leer, gaze not reaching my eyes.
"Mickey" I said, "I'm sorry for this" they all zoned in on that.
"Oh, will you listen to her!" another called. "Apologizing to the drug dealer." They sneered at me. I shook my head, hearing the beep countdown soft from my wrist. I locked eyes with Mickey for a second, and his face said clearly he knew I was up to something.
"Not for that, for this" I said with emphasis, and they looked at me blankly.
A moment later, I was the only one standing.