Page 63 of Whoops-A-Mate From Outer Space
I squeezed my mate’s hand, then motioned to the men in turn. “E, this is my department chair, Doctor Bob Gray, and the dean of faculty for the university, Doctor Evan Phillips.”
Eashai strode forward, hand outstretched. “Gentlemen. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Husband?” Bob squeaked as he shook Eashai’s hand.
I shrugged. “It was a whirlwind romance.”
The general cleared his throat. “Needless to say, gentlemen, Eashai’s presence is also considered classified and covered by your non-disclosure agreements. The most you are allowed to reveal is that Doctor Wallace is married, and even that only as necessary.”
They both nodded.
“So, not that I mind,” I said as Eashai finished shaking the dean’s hand. “But… how? What are you doing here?”
The general replied before they could. “Clearly, things have changed since your mating. You and Eashai will not be able to live safely off base. But it was Major Klein who advocated for this approach. He knew you’d been preparing to return to the university, and asked us to intervene to find a solution that keeps everybody happy.”
“Though…” Floyd sighed. “They were not supposed to learn the full extent.”
“Gene?” Bob asked. “What’s going on?”
I shrugged. “Kind of what it looks like. They brought me in to study alien DNA, it’s just live aliens are here to willingly provide the samples.”
My mind once more tried to shift to thoughts of Eashai fucking me.
“And… husband?” he asked. “I thought you were a bachelor for life.”
I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. It just kind of happened. We became friends, clicked, and now we’re his world’s version of married.”
“Uh… congrats… I guess.” He paused. “Sorry, that sounded wrong. It’s all just so overwhelming. As long as you’re happy, though. That’s what matters.”
Eashai and I exchanged a smile. “I’m very happy.”
Dean Phillips cleared his throat. “Doctor Wallace, I’m sure you understand the strain a sudden leave of absence puts on the university.”
I straightened and nodded. “I do. And I had the full intention of returning to teach for the fall semester. But…” I glanced at my mate.
I couldn’t leave him.
“With this added context,” he replied, glancing at Eashai. “I do understand that these are extraordinary circumstances. With that in mind, I believe we can come to a solution that is satisfactory for everybody.”
“Really?”
“What are you thinking?” Bob asked.
Dean Phillips turned to him. “How many one or two-hundred-level classes is he teaching, and how many higher?”
“I’ve got two introductory classes and two higher-level,” I answered as he looked over at me.
“Perfect,” he replied, facing Ben again. “Is it possible to reassign the lower-level classes?”
“Ummm… I’d have to ask around and see who could take them on with such short notice. We might have to hire somebody.”
“I… might have an option,” I cut in.
Both men turned to me. “Go on,” said the dean.
“One of my former students, Doctor Brown, already works at the university as a researcher. He’s been helping my research students while my communication has been limited, and several have indicated that he’s a positive mentor. Also, he said that he’s considering teaching now that he’s got a taste for it. I could give him some previous semesters’ materials to help him get started.”
“Bob?” Dean Phillips asked.
