Page 34 of Star Bright
“Darcy, may I…?”
They stared at each other, the moment swirling with snow and hidden stars and chance connections. And while the IDA handbooks were very clear on contracts and consent and communication, they didn’t say anything about flying so close to someone’s heart that their pulses were still rushing in perfect synchrony.
And sometime between the next heartbeat and the next hundred years, she let out the softest breath, tightening her hold on him so that the tiny space still between them vanished, and in the same undefined moment he tilted his head to reflect hers and brought their mouths together.
The kiss was like one of the first snowflakes falling, uncertain, delicate, drifting who knew where. And it melted away just as fast.
When he lifted his head, the chill touched her lips. “Darcy,” he whispered.
She put one finger over his lips, silencing him. “We flew,” she whispered. As if that explained it all. Which in a way, it did. She settled to her heels and took a step back. “That was wonderful,” she finished her thought from before.
He slanted a look at her. “Flying or…?”
She dredged up a cheeky grin to hide the way her pulse was still swooping and soaring. “I could hardly tell you’ve been asleep for a hundred years.”
He made a noise low in his throat that reverberated through her like the beast’s growl. No, this was very much like roller coasters and whipped cream with chocolate sprinkles—thrilling and delicious and just not part of her everyday life.
But what was her everyday life? She’d been wrong about everything before. A future with Christopher? Wrong. Earth spinning alone in the galaxy? Wrong.
What if this could be something right?
“Vash,” she said, even though her newly enhanced brain didn’t know what words to add to make the next moment possible.
He took a step back too, which just revealed more of him in all his naked alien glory. “Tonight, when my offspring and the rest of this infinitesimal point in spacetime is asleep, I will come to you, and you can tell me then what you want me to know.” Hereflected her reckless grin back at her. “Because right now, I am turning to ice.”
With a mental kick at her thoughtlessness, she hastened back to the door—back to his clothing. Shedding her two coats, she kept her gaze averted as he dressed. “I… I really do need to check on some things,” she stammered. “I’ll make sure the kitchen is ready for another fledgling meal.” She forced out a chuckle even as she ran away.
+ + +
Later that evening, she had a message from Kong that the snow had stopped and the clouds parted, and the clarity of the Montana winter night was allowing for a period of unimpeded communication. So Darcy hurried to the command center that Ug had revealed and hastily pushed through a message to Brin. She only had to wait a few minutes for her friend to ping back, and then Brin appeared, wearing some sort of strange party hat.
Darcy blinked. “Why are you wearing a tiara sombrero?”
“It’s not a tiara or a sombrero,” Brin said. “I won it in a midway game shooting a plasgun. I have a particularly handsome fynix teaching me some of the finer points of interplanetary diplomacy.”
“I thought this place was a dating service.”
“One that is multidimensional, figuratively and sometimes literally.” Brin angled her headwear at a more rakish angle. “But I assume you had some questions besides the theoretical discussions of extraterrestrial emotional connection.”
Or maybe that was exactly why she was calling? Darcy wasn’t entirely sure herself. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that everything is still okay here.” She checked the control board. “Looks like the messages to the planetary authorities went out finally, and we had an update from the rescue ship you sent. Repairs to Vash’s ship are continuing.”
“But?” Brin leaned forward. “What’s up with you?”
Then you can tell me what you want me to know.
Whatdidshe want? She’d spent years selling audio and visual equipment for other people to record and rewatch their special moments, living out her own life vicariously through video games while waiting for something, anything to happen with Christopher. Why hadn’t she wanted something more? Why had she let herself settle into something so flat and boring, letting the oppressive gravity of the everyday hold her down?
Because launching into the open unknown was too scary?
But when she’d had to, she’d done it, hadn’t she? She’d handled a spaceship crash and aliens and wild, needy children and flying with a dragon.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“Anything.” Darcy gestured all around.
Brin chuckled. “Welcome to the universe.”
