Friends, Comforters, & Companions
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Adult ++
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Category:
1 through F › Andromeda
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
8,583
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Friends, Comforters, & Companions
Title: Friends, Comforters and Companions
Author: Lursa & Be’Tor
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harper/Tyr
Email: lil_missdangerous@yahoo.com, green_tea37@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Parental Guidance suggested. Reader discretion advised. Acts performed by professional characters in controlled situations. Oh and remember…we don’t own anything. We don’t claim to own anything. We are not profiting from this. We just like to play with the characters.
Spoilers:Double Helix & And Your Heart Will Fly Away
Part One: Job Fair
The Bayside Cafe perches gingerly on a dock built out into the bay. Timbers creak under foot. Harper can just barely hear the soft lap of waves beneath the murmur of conversation and music. He can almost feel the eddying currents swirling below. Clear windows encircle the tiny cafe, providing sweeping views of colorful sailboats bobbing on the crystal blue water.
Trance sits beside him, watching with eager interest as the boats glide by. Her short hair is caught up in a multitude of brightly colored clips. Her favorite purple velvet jumpsuit molds her figure. "We were lucky to land here, Beka. This place is so pretty, don't you think so?"
Beka glances at the purple girl her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Lucky, huh? Yeah. It's great."
Trance giggles. "I love it! Did you know that there are some really beautiful public parks here? Rev and I were just admiring one a few blocks away. The plants look so happy."
"Happy plants? Give me a break! Are you nuts?!" Bobby curls his lip and smirks at Trance. "What am I saying? Of course you're nuts!"
"Lay off her, why don't cha!" Harper glares at the bigger man before turning to smile warmly at his Purple Princess. "Really, Trance? I'll have to take a look at it if I have time."
"Indeed, it is a lovely, peaceful place," Rev murmurs. He peers around Harper, eyeing the sailboats in the bay.
Beka snorts. "I don't know why all of you were so hot to get out and roam around here. See one dirt ball, seen them all. Give me a nice climate-controlled drift anytime."
Bobby leans closer to Beka sliding a possessive hand up her thigh. "I'm with you Sweet Cheeks. What say we ditch this bunch and go have some real fun?"
"I'm not going to ditch my crew." Beka grins and scoots closer. She tilts her head and Bobby leans down to devour her mouth in a passionate kiss.
Oh please, is the big lug gonna do Beka at the table? Sheesh! Harper lounges casually in a chair that is pushed just far enough back from the wobbly wooden table that he can slip out of it in hurry if he needs to. Or kick it over. The cafe owners have kindly provided all sorts of things to throw or…Harper picks up a heavy metal napkin dispenser and weighs it in his hand…it has a nice heft to it and lovely sharp square edges…should be good for at least one nice solid smack upside the head if Bobby starts anything. Harper sighs wistfully. "I'd love to go surfing just once before we blow off this rock."
Beka shudders. "Why anyone would want to dunk themselves in salty water filled with things that bite and sting is beyond me." Beka eyes the napkin holder warily. "You planning on getting a napkin or what? Put that thing down."
"Surfing is fun, Beka. It's…spiritual." Harper turns the napkin holder over in his hands.
"Ahhh." Rev sighs. "One finds many opportunities to find the Way."
"I don't know about all that, Rev. I just know I'm only at peace on the waves." Harper sets the shiny metal holder down and makes a show of carefully removing a pale yellow paper napkin. He takes another bite of his fish sandwich. "See, Boss, the Harper is harmless. You're looking at me like I want to whack someone with something." Harper chuckles and glances at Bobby. "I only whack when provoked."
"Harper, sometimes you instigate the provocation." Rev directs a reproachful look at him.
Harper huffs. "I do not!"
"I seem to recall an incident on our last shore leave when you…" Rev begins with a smile.
"Okay, okay, I get the point."
Rev points a claw at the young human. "Remember Harper…peaceful solutions are the best ones."
He's not touching that one. He and Rev will never agree on the virtue of a judicious application of force as needed. Harper takes another bite of his sandwich and rolls his eyes at Beka. She grins at him.
"This is such a pretty planet, Beka. Perfect for a vacation. Can't we stay longer?" Trance selects a slice of pale green melon from her fruit platter.
"Miss? Oh, miss? Could I get another can of Sparky over here?" Harper calls cheerfully as the scowling Nietzschean waitress attempts to stalk by his table again, ignoring his waving hand. He hadn't been happy about the Maru's latest cargo run taking them to a planet that is dominated by Nietzscheans but then he discovered that the prides that held Tazamun were trying to market it as a vacation paradise.
It was a mindboggling concept…a Nietzschean hospitality industry. Nietzscheans trying to lure hapless tourists to visit their planet. It had to be a scam of some kind but what was the goal? He didn't know much about the different prides but he did know that the Jaguar had a reputation for being outstandingly sneaky and if they had teamed up with the Kodiak…well, the Kodiak must be up to speed in the dirty tricks department too.
Still, even knowing that the bastards were up to something, it had been huge fun for an Earth boy to wander around, rummaging through shops, making the Nietzschean clerks fetch out all kinds of merchandise and talk to a kludge. That's one thing he has to like about this place – the sterling opportunity to order Nietzscheans around. Ah, the pained smiles, the resentful eyes, the barely repressed snarls. Harper grins happily at the tall brunette in the barely there skirt and snug shirt as she stops to stare coldly down at him.
"Yes…sir. One can of Sparky. Anything else?" Her icy tone suggests that there had better not be any further orders from this table.
Harper's grin widens until his dimples show. Oh, she's going to be fun. Tall, beautiful and snarly. Just his type. How many snarls can he provoke before it’s time to leave the cafe? Her brown eyes are already glinting deliciously with temper. Oh, yeah. Let her think she has him cowed for now then when she is least expecting it, he'll demand something else. "That's it for me."
"You can bring me a beer." Bobby leans back in his chair, smiling smugly at the waitress. His brown leather jacket falls open over his tight beige shirt.
The brunette looks his beefy frame over slowly and thoroughly. Her full lips curl back in a sneer. "One Sparky. One beer."
Harper watches as she stalks away, her tiny skirt frisking delightfully around her hips. She had the good taste to not be interested in Bobby. Too bad Beka didn't display a similar disdain. What could Beka possibly see in the oaf? Other than the obvious sex potential of course.
Harper tilts his head, studying the man sitting across from him. Bobby's stocky frame looks almost soft next to lean, chiseled lines of the Nietzscheans sitting behind him. One hand rests on his thick leather belt, ostentatiously close to his holstered gun. His long brown hair frizzes loosely over his thick shoulders. His small brown eyes squint against the sunlight at Harper.
"What are you staring at, shrimp?" Bobby demands with a scowl. His fingers tap suggestively against his gun.
"One of the mysteries of the universe." Harper sighs. If Bobby has any redeeming qualities, they are well hidden. At first, when Beka brought Bobby on board, he had assumed that she was running some scam and that she planned on using and losing the oaf – soon - but Bobby is still with them. Too bad. He likes working on the Maru. He likes the rest of the crew but Bobby…the Maru is just too damned small for the both of them. It may be time to just cut his losses.
Harper looks up as the waitress slaps a frosted can of Sparky down in front of him and a bottle of beer in front of Bobby. Her dark eyes glitter with annoyance as she tosses the check into their midst and stomps away. Ah, the end of that game. Well, there are no shortages of Nietzscheans to annoy on this planet. Harper hides a smile as he watches her strut off to another table. "So, boss, you got some more cargo for us to run or do we get to hang around here for a few days?"
Trance turns from the window to look at Beka.
Beka pushes back her plate and sighs. "Okay, gang. Good news, bad news time."
"What's wrong?" Bobby frowns. He leans closer and slides an arm over Beka's shoulders. His fingers stroke the bare skin showing through the cutouts of her black shirt.
Beka glances at him and pats his thigh. "You know the loan I got from Gerentrix?"
Bobby nods and his frown deepens. "He finally catch up with us? That's no problem, babe. Let me deal with him."
"It's not him. Him, I could handle but the oily little Nightsider got tired of trying to collect and sold it to a Jaguar 'Economic Advisor'." Beka sighs. She stretches her long, black leather clad, legs out under the table. "I spent the last two hours talking terms with him."
"That sounds an awful lot like loan shark to me, boss." Harper winces.
"Give the man a Kewpie doll!" Beka laughs humorlessly.
This does not sound good. Harper finishes his sandwich quickly as he listens. Any of them could have confounded and stalled the Nightsider for the few more cargo runs it would take to pay off the loan but a Jaguar loan shark would be infinitely more difficult to deal with.
"Did he try to claim the Maru?" Rev Bem asks.
Beka shakes her head. "They don't really want the Maru. They want their money. I came back to the ship to find it locked down with a bunch of Nietzschean guards watching it. The damned 'economic advisor' was leaning on the hatch, waiting for me."
"What did you do?" Trance stares, wide-eyed at Beka like a small child listening to fairytales. Her tail curls and uncurls around her chair leg.
"I had to sign over the profits from this last run," Beka admits. Her full lips flatten into angry lines. "Damn it. Still wasn't enough to get the Maru out of hock."
Bobby strokes the barrel of his gun. "Why not just take it back? We can do it, Valentine. Despite this bunch of losers you got crewing for you."
"The only loser here is you, Bobby boy." Harper sips his Sparky. "The rest of us have more brains than to want to piss off the Jaguars. Especially while we are stuck on a planet that is partly controlled by them."
"Did anybody ask you?" Bobby leans across the table, glaring at Harper. "Huh? Did they?"
Harper picks ups the napkin holder casually. "Back off meathead."
"Who you calling 'meathead'? I’ll snap your scrawny neck!" Bobby half rises from his seat.
"Stop it, Bobby." Beka rolls her eyes. "We don't have time for this nonsense with you two. We need to get this resolved so we can get on with business."
Bobby slouches back in his chair, scowling.
Rev leans forward, tapping his claws thoughtfully on the table. "The Jaguar do have a certain reputation. And it is better to settle things peacefully if one can. What do you propose we do, Beka?"
Harper waves his Sparky. "I assume this is the good news part of the equation?" He places the napkin holder back on the table but closer to his side of the table.
Beka nods. "We can do this if you guys will help. The profits from the last run covered most of the debt. We only need to raise a couple thousand thron to finish the payments and buy supplies to last us on the next run. I've already got a new cargo lined up. I'll make this up to you by increasing your shares on the next four runs."
Harper frowns. "So exactly how do we raise enough to pay off the loan shark and his merry band of Nietzscheans? Are we going to rob banks or something?"
"Or something, Harper." Beka looks around the table at her crew. "Trance and Rev are going to take my petty cash fund and hit the gambling tables. The rest of us will hire ourselves out for short-term contracts. Between all of us, we should be able to raise the money." Beka sighs and leans back in her chair. "I saw some advertisements for a job fair in Artemis Square. Apparently you don't have to be a local to participate."
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The ocean shimmers a glorious blue under the morning sun. The gentle waves slide up and down the golden sand with a soft, shushing noise. In the far distance, Freya can see the bright colored sails of the boats that the tourists seemed to love to rent. Why anyone would want to waste their time that way…she shakes her head. The mere idea of bobbing on the waves with nothing between her and the vastness of wide blue sky makes her feel ill.
She shifts in her brown wicker chair. After all those years of living within the tunnels of the Orca Pride asteroid, planets like this make her feel…uneasy. The vast blueness overhead, held at bay only by the wooden roof covering the long deck. All that seemingly endless shimmering blue of the ocean rolling out in from of her, mirroring the vastness of sky…Freya shivers. If only Medea didn’t insist on eating breakfast out here on the deck every morning. If only Barbarossa hadn't sent Tyr here to keep an eye on the Jaguar and guard the Kodiak's interests in this place.
She mostly stayed inside except when she went jogging along the beach with Tyr in the mornings. Something about his presence kept the overwhelming vastness of the outdoors from pressing so heavily against her. Other people could act as a buffer as well, distracting her from the wide sky looming overhead. When she went shopping with Medea, it was not so bad. The journey into the closest city in the confines of a ship was pleasant even and then as long as she was with Medea, she could manage. And fortunately, Medea is too vain and self-absorbed to notice anything. She is safe as long as she can discreetly hide this strange tension that plagues her. It will never do for either Tyr or his First Wife to suspect her peculiar weakness or to begin wondering about her genes.
Freya sighs and stares down at the neat slices of fresh fruit on her green plate. A thick mug of herbal tea steams softly beside the plate. It's good to have an excuse to stay home with Medea and avoid those morning jogs on the beach with Tyr. Those excursions had only been endurable because of her husband's presence and the knowledge that the jog would be followed by a long, satisfying session in bed. Her private reward for enduring the horror of ocean and sky and open spaces. And, now, another reward, her hand tenderly touches the tiny bulge of her stomach. Only married two months and already pregnant. A smirk touches her full red lips. It had taken Medea longer. Despite the First Wife's much vaunted Kodiak genes.
Freya's smirk fades slightly as she studies the First Wife sitting across from her. Just like Medea to look obnoxiously good even now with her belly so round and ripe with child. The long, wavy blond hair is scattered wildly across a lilac satin robe. The lapels fall open over full breasts, barely covered by the lilac lace and satin of the matching gown.
Medea stares down at the plain toast in her hand with a doubtful expression. She cautiously nibbles a corner of the bread and then turns her attention to the flexi lying beside her breakfast plate. A handful of words glow on the tiny screen.
Another 'literary masterpiece' in progress. Freya rolls her eyes. No doubt she will hear the poem soon enough and often. She didn't have a choice in the matter but to listen with whatever grace she could muster. Freya smoothes her hand down the embroidered lapel of her pale blue satin robe. Why Tyr agreed to Medea's proposal is a mystery to her. Freya runs an assessing look over the First Wife.
Medea did come from a prominent family but she is hardly the most brilliant or successful member of it. Nor, even allowing for Tyr's personal preferences, the blondest. If Tyr had to marry someone from that family, there are better choices. Freya fingers her satin sash as she glances cautiously toward the beach. Tyr should be returning by now. Yes, she can see him in the distance. Long, black hair bouncing over his wide shoulders. His chocolate skin covered with a glossy sheen of sweat. Ahhh, her husband is so beautiful. What lovely children they will have.
The sound of voices distracts her and Freya looks across the wide stretch of sand to see that their nearest neighbor, Aretha, is out on her deck. The Jaguar's husband, Brutus is with her. Freya cranes her neck for a better view, Bernice and Laurel, his Second and Third Wives are there as well and…her blue eyes widen…they let it eat breakfast with them!
"Medea. Look." Freya tilts her chin toward the group.
"What?" Medea asks irritably, looking up from the flexi. She glances over her shoulder and goes still. "I can't believe it! The rumors are true then."
Freya nods slowly as she stares at the group merrily breakfasting. The much gossiped about kludge is a slender, dark man in gauzy emerald green pants. He could almost be taken for a sibling of Bernice if the Second Wife was not so obviously Nietzschean. Not surprising if the rumors of the kludge's true status are correct. Brutus favors brunettes every bit as much as her own husband favors blondes. "Apparently so."
For weeks, gossip about the family has been flowing among beachfront families. The first rumor was that Brutus was seeking a Fourth Wife. The next was that his First Wife, Aretha was not pleased. And why should she be? Aretha had seven children by Brutus, already; it was only to be expected that she would not welcome yet another young fertile wife producing rivals to her own offspring. Rumor whispered that the junior wives, Bernice and Laurel were not pleased either. The next set of rumors murmured that Aretha's new kludge was not a servant but…a companion, a concubine.
Freya shudders delicately as she watches Brutus get up; kiss each of his wives and then the kludge before disappearing into the house. "What can they be thinking to sit out in the open where anybody can see them? It's one thing to have heard the rumors but to actually see it."
Medea sniffs as she turns back around in her chair. "You would think that three wives would be more than enough to keep Brutus occupied. I kept Tyr perfectly satisfied all by myself until I got pregnant and didn't feel like indulging him in that way…then he started talking of how nice it would be for me to have the company of another wife and the next thing I knew he brought you home."
"What are you trying to say?" Freya huffs. She glowers at Medea.
Medea arches an eyebrow and smirks knowingly. "I'm not trying to say anything. Really. You are so sensitive these days."
"I'm not being sensitive. You were happy enough to have me assist you all these months, were you not? I keep our husband busy and satisfied giving you time to indulge your little hobby."
"My 'little' hobby?" Medea frowns. "I am an artist. But of course someone like you cannot fully appreciate my gift."
Gift. Pah! Freya rolls her eyes. "I never hope to presume that I understand your gift, Medea. I only meant that by keeping Tyr satisfied you have more time to devote to your work."
"Ahh." Medea sighs then turns back to her flexi. "Although our husband looked a bit less than satisfied when he started his run this morning."
Freya's eyes narrow suspiciously. Did Medea know about this morning? She had been accommodating Tyr despite her lack of any of her former enthusiasm for those prolonged lovemaking sessions that her husband favored. All she wanted since her pregnancy was for him to just get done and go away.
Her breasts are so sensitive and tender; even the lightest touch is annoying as they swell bigger and bigger. Unfortunately her bigger breasts only increased her husband's interest in touching them. Freya sighs. Just this morning, she had tried but her stomach suddenly turned rebellious in the middle of proceedings. Tyr had promptly handed her a damp cloth and retreated to the kitchen to brew a soothing mug of herbal tea.
He had brought it to her in bed and sat beside her for a time, talking as she lay there with a damp cloth over her eyes. He hadn't seemed too displeased despite the unsatisfied jut of his erection beneath the rich fabric of his maroon robe. Definitely there had been no mention of a Third Wife but…Freya frowns thoughtfully. Medea had been exactly three month along when Tyr traveled to Orca Pride on Kodiak business and agreed to her proposal while he was there.
She wouldn't mind having a Third to assist her as she had assisted Medea but…not right now. Not until she was several children ahead and well established in her position as Second. Freya leans forward; her gaze going to the kludge leaning against the railing and pointing out at the sailboats. The three wives are watching him with indulgent expressions. "Still…I heard that Aretha was the one who hired the kludge. Not Brutus."
"What?" Medea drops the remaining corner of her toast back onto her plate. Her blue eyes are wide. "I had not heard that. Are you certain?"
"She hired him at one of those job fairs in the city." Freya stiffens as her gaze slides past the kludge to the beach. "Medea! Who is that?"
Medea looks up wide eyed. "What? Who?"
"There." Freya points toward the beach. "See her…that…painted harlot talking to our husband?"
Medea turns her head sharply to face the beach. She hisses at the sight of a voluptuous blonde flirting with Tyr. "That's Josephine! She is a cousin of mine. She always wanted Tyr but he wanted me. Then when we announced my pregnancy, she showed back up. She paraded herself up and down the beach in practically nothing. I thought that I was going to have to drown the bitch but Barbarossa sent Tyr off to negotiate with Orca Pride and my husband came back with you."
"Josephine was so furious." Medea titters. She adjusts the floral patterned cushions in her chair to better support her back and leans back with a satisfied sigh. "I still treasure the look on her face when she saw Tyr escorting you inside our house."
Freya blinks. She hadn't known that. No wonder Medea had been relatively welcoming to her when Tyr arrived home with a new Second Wife. She is much better than that bimbo flaunting barely covered and quite enormous breasts under Tyr's nose. Her bone blades flutter as she stares, watching the young woman stroking Tyr's arm and smiling up at him. "I will not have her as Third. Two wives are sufficient for now."
"I quite agree." Medea picks up her mug of tea. She sips. "It would be nice to have someone to help out but we can always hire someone for that. No need for a Third. And particularly not that bitch. When it’s time for a Third, it should be someone that we can all agree on."
Freya stares thoughtfully at the neighbor's deck as Aretha's kludge follows the wives back inside. "Perhaps we should talk to Aretha. There has been no talk of Brutus taking a fourth wife since she hired that kludge companion."
Medea wrinkles her nose. "A kludge companion? Are you mad?"
"The kludge won't be there forever. It has a time-limited contract."
Medea takes a slice of fruit from Freya's plate. She munches on it with a considering air. "No harm in talking to Aretha, I suppose."
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"Medea, you are looking lovely these days. You're practically glowing." Aretha sits on her red sofa. Her gauzy white dress flutters gracefully as she reaches for the teapot. Delicate silver and turquoise gauntlets curl around her bone blades. Rich rows of turquoise beads circle her throat. "Tea, dear?"
"You are too kind, Aretha." Medea smiles. Her hands smooth over the heavy bulge filling the front of her loose lavender dress. A gold clasp set with amethysts holds her dress fastened over one slender shoulder. Amethyst studs glint in her ears. "And tea would be lovely. Thank you."
Bernice, the Second Wife, sits next to Aretha. The soft silk of her sage green sari wraps gracefully around her slim, dark body. Small emeralds dot the gold gauntlets glinting on her arms as she waves a casual hand toward the two red china pots sitting on the table. "Would you like some tea or chocolate, Freya?"
"Chocolate. Thank you." Freya accepts a tall red china mug filled with hot chocolate topped with a dollop of whipped cream floating on top of the rich liquid. "Where is Laurel? Is she ill?"
"Oh, no, dear. Our Third Wife is taking dear little Edward out. We promised him a ride on one of those sailboats. They caught his eye while we were eating breakfast and nothing would but that Edward rent one. It seemed a small enough treat to grant the boy. Edward has been very good."
"Edward?" Medea asks as she sweeps an approving glance over the polished wood and glass table covered with a red china platter holding a selection of thinly sliced fruits, a wooden basket filled with delicate sweet rolls and a silver platter with an array of tiny sandwiches. She leans forward and places one of the sandwiches on her saucer. "Would that be the kludge that I saw on your deck this morning?"
Aretha frowns over her teacup. Her deep brown eyes narrow in disapproval. "Medea, dear. We don't use that word in this house since dear Edward joined us."
"Yes." Bernice sips her hot chocolate. "Human is the term that Edward prefers."
Medea arches her eyebrow. "Why would you care what a klu…human prefers?"
Aretha picks up a roll dusted with cinnamon and sugar. "We want Edward to be happy with us. We want him to stay. We want him to renew that contract."
"Quite right." Bernice nods firmly. "We don’t want to be like that Cameron's household. Would you believe the man is displaying for another wife? Another one! He already has eight squeezed into that tiny house."
Aretha bites into her roll with a vicious snap. "Indeed. Eight is more than enough for a man of his status. Nine is simply ridiculous. It's not like Cameron is First Alpha. Then Cameron and Brutus begin talking…you know how competitive men are, dear and the next thing, we know…"
Freya sips her chocolate. "Brutus was considering taking another wife?"
"Not just one. No, he was considering taking two." Bernice rolls her eyes. "As if we are not sufficient. Why, between us, Brutus already has seventeen children. Aretha has six; I have six, and Laurel has five. Until Brutus gets a promotion, we don't need any more children right now. Much less additional wives."
Aretha finishes her roll. "Brutus does very well but there is no sense in stretching one's resources too thinly. We wives decided that three wives are quite enough for Brutus right now."
"Plus we wanted some peace and quiet, now that our youngest batch of children are old enough to start school this year," Bernice adds. "That's when we got Edward."
"Edward has been wonderful." Aretha pours herself another cup of tea and smiles at Medea. "More tea?"
"Please." Medea holds her cup out. "How has this Edward been so useful?"
"Think about it, dear. Edward is a handsome creature and most…well, he keeps Brutus well occupied. The three of us can relax at the spa or spend the day shopping and Brutus is completely satisfied by the time we get back. If we want some time with Brutus, well, Edward is perfectly willing to take the children off to a museum or something. And, of course, he gets scheduled time off to visit his friends or whatever it is that humans like to do."
Bernice giggles. "And we don't have to be concerned about Edward getting pregnant. It's like having a Fourth without the inconveniences."
"And the relationship need not be a permanent one either." Freya sets her empty chocolate cup down.
Aretha looks at her. "Well, actually that's what we were thinking in the beginning. We were even a bit concerned when we only signed Edward to an annual contract but…Brutus has developed quite a fondness for Edward. Then there's all the fun that Brutus has flaunting Edward around Cameron; knowing perfectly well that Cameron's wives would never agree to allow a human into their household."
"The children have become quite fond of Edward." Bernice glances at Freya. "And we find Edward most useful to have around. Frankly, we have grown to like him as well."
Aretha nods. "Yes. Edward is a good boy and quite surprisingly intelligent for a human."
"Why all the questions?" Bernice asks. "Are you thinking of adding a companion to your household?"
Freya sips her chocolate thoughtfully. "Idle curiosity. Nothing more."
Medea leans forward and sets her teacup on the table. She pulls a flexi out of her robes oblivious to the fleeting expressions of horror that flicker over Aretha and Bernice's face. "I have a collection of my work here that I would like to present to you, Aretha. In fact, this copy is special. I just added my very latest poem to it. You are the very first to have it."
"Thank you, dear, that's very sweet." Aretha murmurs weakly as she takes the flexi and hurriedly hands it off to Bernice. "You really shouldn't have."
"Yes." Bernice stares at the flexi with dismay. "Are you certain that we deserve such an honor? Perhaps your family would prefer to be the first to have this honor. Or your husband."
Freya drops her eyes to hide her amusement. Aretha and Bernice would rather give birth than listen to one of Medea's poems. She quite understands the sentiment.
Medea laughs. "Oh, I'm having a special print copy of my love poems printed for my husband and the poems that I've written about my pregnancy created for him. I will give him the copy along with our child. A birth of mind and body, so to speak."
"How…charming." Aretha smiles stiffly.
"I know. I'll recite one of them for you now." Medea's eyes light up.
"Oh, really, dear, don't put yourself to any trouble. Bernice and I can read your lovely poems on the flexi when…when…we have the proper atmosphere in which to appreciate such artistry." Aretha sets her teacup down firmly.
Medea stands up. "I don't mind sharing my talent. I call this poem "Genetic Memory or Variations on a Helix." It's the first poem that I wrote for Tyr when I first discovered that I was pregnant."
Aretha leans back against the sofa cushions and murmurs to Bernice "Pour me some chocolate, Bernice. I suddenly feel the need for something stronger than tea."
"Genetic Memory or Variations on a Helix." Medea recites majestically then pauses, eyeing her audience. She suddenly presses a hand to her ample chest and begins in a booming voice, "Our blood!"
Aretha starts, spilling chocolate on her white skirts. Bernice silently hands her a red linen napkin.
"Our blood!
It flows in our blood!
The memory of
Drago
Flows in our blood.
The trueness of our superiority
The evidence of our mortality
The trust of our sanity
Flows
In our blood."
Medea drops her hand and bows her head.
Aretha looks up from blotting the stain on her robe. "Very nice, dear. Wasn't that nice, Bernice?"
Bernice primly sips her chocolate. "Delightful. We will have to be certain to put this flexi in a safe place where the children can't get at it."
"Oh, yes, indeed." Aretha brightens. "Such a tragedy what happened to the last flexi that Medea was kind enough to honor us with. Most unfortunate."
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Harper swaggers back into the job fair room, refastening his for-hire badge to his scarlet tee shirt. He smirks as he walks past Bobby to toss his latest pay disc to Beka. In the last two days, he had gotten hired for dozens of small repair jobs while Bobby was left each time to sit sullen and unselected in one of the cheap plastic chairs scattered around the room.
Beka glances at the amount on the disc and raises her eyebrows. "Nice. Good job, Harper."
"Oh, it was nothing. Just another minor repair. I guess word is getting around about the genius for hire, I just keep getting offers. Haven't even had a chance to rest or grab some lunch today. You look well rested, Bobby. Bet you had plenty of time for lunch. Got any offers yet?" Harper slants Bobby a mocking look.
Bobby glares. "Shut up, freak."
"I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to hire you as a bodyguard, Bobby." Harper tilts his head, pretending to consider. "I mean, hey, a choice between you and a Nietzschean, what kind of choice is that? Should be no contest there."
"Shut up, you little, maggot!" Bobby surges to his feet. "I’ve had enough of your mouth."
"Guys." Beka stretches her lean black clad form, shifting on the bright orange chair. Her blue eyes glitter with annoyance. "Knock it off. Now."
"Whatever you say, Boss." Harper sneers at Bobby and leans casually against the cool metal wall. His gaze skims uneasily over the others in the room. The humans are scattered around the same quarter of the room that he is in. A few Than and other species mixed in among them. The Nietzscheans are lounging and posing on the other side of the room.
He straightens as a soft chime sounds from his badge and the orange, yellow and blue lights on it begin flashing. Harper sighs loudly. "Well, would you look at that? Paged for another interview already. No rest for the talented." Harper pushes away from the wall and carefully steps on Bobby’s booted foot on his way to the area set aside as an interviewing section.
"Hey! You did that on purpose! I'll rip you a new one you scrawny, pencil-necked, geek!" Bobby bellows.
Harper saunters toward the cubicles, ignoring Bobby's aggravated voice rising behind him. He can only hope that this job will be more interesting and challenging than the last couple of jobs.
Well, well, well. This job is looking up already. Harper pauses to stare at the two blonde beauties watching him from behind a rickety wooden table. The shorter woman has a round, pale face with slanting blue eyes. Her hair is swept up but a few tendrils curl artfully around her throat. The curving neckline of her lavender dress showcases the creamy curves of her heavy breasts. Beneath her breasts, her abdomen swells round and full.
Harper looks at the other blonde. She is tall and lean with an athlete's figure that only makes the slight bulge of pregnant abdomen stand out beneath her rose pink robes. Her long hair is neatly tamed into a long, thick braid dangling over one shoulder.
He eases further into the room. Both women are staring at him with unnervingly intent expressions as if they are judging and weighing everything about him. "Hi there, ladies. What can the Harper do for you? Got a pesky engineering problem needing to be solved? Look no further."
"The Harper?" Medea frowns. "What is that?"
"That would be me. Harper. Seamus Zelazny Harper." Harper bows. "At your service."
The two women trade a long look with each other then the lean one turns back to him with a smile. "I am Freya Anasazi of Kodiak Pride. This is Medea Anasazi also of Kodiak Pride."
"Great. Nice to meet ya." Harper shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "So what can I do for you?"
"Medea is First Wife. I am Second Wife to Pride Kodiak's heir."
"Okaaaay…" Harper shrugs. Okay. He'll play. "And he would be, who?"
"Second Alpha of Kodiak Pride. Son of the First Alpha, Barbarossa." Freya adds evasively.
"So you having problems with computer systems, engineering problems?" Harper asks.
Medea looks him over thoughtfully. "He's short."
"Hey, Lady!" Harper protests. "I'm compact, not short. The better to fit into all those tight little conduits."
"Yes, of course." Freya frowns at Medea. "We might be able to use you to help us with a few pesky problems around the house."
"The Harper is thoroughly house trained." Harper smiles brightly.
"I beg your pardon?" Medea's eyes widen. She turns to look at Freya. "You mean some of them are not house broken?!"
"I think he's showing humor." Freya whispers.
"Ahhhh…humor." Medea nods.
Freya continues. "We live in a beachfront house with access to…"
"Beachfront? Did you say your house is on the beach?" Harper leans over the table.
"Yes it is."
"Oh man, that is too cool. So what do you need fixed?" Harper asks.
Freya pushes a list of repairs across the table. Harper picks up the flexi and scans it. "Okay, busted communications unit. Not a problem. House security system." He looks up suddenly. "You know I can actually upgrade your current system, if you'd like."
"That would be nice." Freya nods. "Do any of these jobs seem outside your area of expertise?"
Harper reads on. "Environmental control repair and upgrade, Entertainment system re-installation…nah. I can do all this stuff with my eyes closed."
"Very good. We are looking for someone who can handle these repairs plus do a few other duties around the house."
"Hey, I don't do housework and I'm not a groundskeeper type." Harper holds up his hand.
"We don't expect you to do that. We have a complete staff." Freya waves her hand dismissively. "We would need you for some other specialized work. If you're willing."
"So how much does this pay?" Harper folds his arms over his chest.
"Are you a natural blonde?" Medea asks suddenly.
"WHAT?!" Harper takes a step back. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"It’s just that our husband won't allow anyone in the house who is not blonde. Even the staff." Freya smiles regretfully. That's not entirely true. Tyr will only mate with a blonde. Medea and she have made sure that the staff is resoundingly brunette.
"Oh, weird." Harper shakes his head. He's heard it all now. "Yeah. I'm a 'natural' blonde." Harper's hands drop to the waist of his cargo pants. "Wanna check?"
"NO! That won't be necessary." Medea averts her eyes quickly.
"Here's the contract. Look it over and sign please. We need you to start right away." Freya's gaze lingers on his dataport. "Are you interested in jobs other than engineering ones?"
"What kind?" Harper picks up the contract and eyes it quickly. "This says this contract is for a year. Is that right?"
"Yes. Is that a problem? We're more than willing to compensate you accordingly." Freya leans back in the chair.
Harper scans the contract. "What are all these little asterisks by the duties?"
Freya widens her eyes. The little kludge is observant. "Oh that's nothing. It just lets us know what your duties include."
"Right. I'm not seeing pay listed here."
"Check the last page above the signature field." Freya leans forward.
Harper whistles softly when he sees the figure. This job alone will get the Maru out of hock. Beka ought to really be pleased with that. He doesn't care if it's cleaning out sewage systems, he'll do it. The duties are easy and the house is on the beach. Maybe he can squeeze some surfing time in.
"Okay. Well I want half the money up front." Harper is firm on this. If he is going to be tied up for a year the least he can do is get Beka the money she needs to get the Maru out of hock."
"That's fairly unconventional." Freya hedges.
Harper folds his arms. "Then we don't have a deal."
Freya and Medea share a look. Medea nods. "Fine. Half up front. But we cancel your probationary period. You will be committed to working for us for the full year. No questions asked."
"Fine." Harper shrugs.
"Good. Then we have a deal?" Freya asks.
"This says that I'll be expected to live in the residence. Is that right?" Harper frowns.
The two women look at each other and then back at Harper. "That's quite right. You'll have room and board. You will also have some free time should you want to swim or whatever."
"I can bring my surfboard?" Harper asks hopefully.
"Of course." Freya nods.
Medea leans close to Freya and whispers. "What's a surfboard?" Freya shrugs.
"And I sign where?"
"Right there on that section." Freya points to the section.
"Wait a second." Harper frowns at a line. "Does this say the main duty is a 'comforter'? Is that what this says?" Harper points to the line.
"Why yes it does?" Freya smiles winningly.
"What does that mean?" Harper frowns.
Freya frowns. "Exactly what it says. You will provide comfort to a member of the Anasazi household."
Harper grins. Okay. The babes want a babysitter and they're willing to pay well for it. He can see that they're both pregnant. So they need a little handholding. They're cute so that's not gonna be a problem. Harper signs on the line.
"Fine. No problem. We have a deal." Harper looks at both women. "I'll need to contact my shipmates and let them know what's going on."
"You may contact them from our transport. We will be leaving within the hour." Freya takes the contract and passes it to Medea. "We'll give you your copy when you're aboard."
"What about my clothes? I'll need those." Harper insists.
"You may purchase what you need before we leave." Freya stands. She hands Harper a paper with the location of their transport and a handful of throns to purchase supplies. "I trust this will suffice."
Harper gazes at the handful of coins. More than enough to purchase clothing and a few odd items. Yep, the Harper has jumped on the gravy train. "Yeah. This'll do fine."
"Good. Meet us at the transport in twenty minutes. We will transfer half of your fee into your account when you are aboard."
"Cool."
TBC
Author: Lursa & Be’Tor
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harper/Tyr
Email: lil_missdangerous@yahoo.com, green_tea37@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Parental Guidance suggested. Reader discretion advised. Acts performed by professional characters in controlled situations. Oh and remember…we don’t own anything. We don’t claim to own anything. We are not profiting from this. We just like to play with the characters.
Spoilers:Double Helix & And Your Heart Will Fly Away
Part One: Job Fair
The Bayside Cafe perches gingerly on a dock built out into the bay. Timbers creak under foot. Harper can just barely hear the soft lap of waves beneath the murmur of conversation and music. He can almost feel the eddying currents swirling below. Clear windows encircle the tiny cafe, providing sweeping views of colorful sailboats bobbing on the crystal blue water.
Trance sits beside him, watching with eager interest as the boats glide by. Her short hair is caught up in a multitude of brightly colored clips. Her favorite purple velvet jumpsuit molds her figure. "We were lucky to land here, Beka. This place is so pretty, don't you think so?"
Beka glances at the purple girl her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Lucky, huh? Yeah. It's great."
Trance giggles. "I love it! Did you know that there are some really beautiful public parks here? Rev and I were just admiring one a few blocks away. The plants look so happy."
"Happy plants? Give me a break! Are you nuts?!" Bobby curls his lip and smirks at Trance. "What am I saying? Of course you're nuts!"
"Lay off her, why don't cha!" Harper glares at the bigger man before turning to smile warmly at his Purple Princess. "Really, Trance? I'll have to take a look at it if I have time."
"Indeed, it is a lovely, peaceful place," Rev murmurs. He peers around Harper, eyeing the sailboats in the bay.
Beka snorts. "I don't know why all of you were so hot to get out and roam around here. See one dirt ball, seen them all. Give me a nice climate-controlled drift anytime."
Bobby leans closer to Beka sliding a possessive hand up her thigh. "I'm with you Sweet Cheeks. What say we ditch this bunch and go have some real fun?"
"I'm not going to ditch my crew." Beka grins and scoots closer. She tilts her head and Bobby leans down to devour her mouth in a passionate kiss.
Oh please, is the big lug gonna do Beka at the table? Sheesh! Harper lounges casually in a chair that is pushed just far enough back from the wobbly wooden table that he can slip out of it in hurry if he needs to. Or kick it over. The cafe owners have kindly provided all sorts of things to throw or…Harper picks up a heavy metal napkin dispenser and weighs it in his hand…it has a nice heft to it and lovely sharp square edges…should be good for at least one nice solid smack upside the head if Bobby starts anything. Harper sighs wistfully. "I'd love to go surfing just once before we blow off this rock."
Beka shudders. "Why anyone would want to dunk themselves in salty water filled with things that bite and sting is beyond me." Beka eyes the napkin holder warily. "You planning on getting a napkin or what? Put that thing down."
"Surfing is fun, Beka. It's…spiritual." Harper turns the napkin holder over in his hands.
"Ahhh." Rev sighs. "One finds many opportunities to find the Way."
"I don't know about all that, Rev. I just know I'm only at peace on the waves." Harper sets the shiny metal holder down and makes a show of carefully removing a pale yellow paper napkin. He takes another bite of his fish sandwich. "See, Boss, the Harper is harmless. You're looking at me like I want to whack someone with something." Harper chuckles and glances at Bobby. "I only whack when provoked."
"Harper, sometimes you instigate the provocation." Rev directs a reproachful look at him.
Harper huffs. "I do not!"
"I seem to recall an incident on our last shore leave when you…" Rev begins with a smile.
"Okay, okay, I get the point."
Rev points a claw at the young human. "Remember Harper…peaceful solutions are the best ones."
He's not touching that one. He and Rev will never agree on the virtue of a judicious application of force as needed. Harper takes another bite of his sandwich and rolls his eyes at Beka. She grins at him.
"This is such a pretty planet, Beka. Perfect for a vacation. Can't we stay longer?" Trance selects a slice of pale green melon from her fruit platter.
"Miss? Oh, miss? Could I get another can of Sparky over here?" Harper calls cheerfully as the scowling Nietzschean waitress attempts to stalk by his table again, ignoring his waving hand. He hadn't been happy about the Maru's latest cargo run taking them to a planet that is dominated by Nietzscheans but then he discovered that the prides that held Tazamun were trying to market it as a vacation paradise.
It was a mindboggling concept…a Nietzschean hospitality industry. Nietzscheans trying to lure hapless tourists to visit their planet. It had to be a scam of some kind but what was the goal? He didn't know much about the different prides but he did know that the Jaguar had a reputation for being outstandingly sneaky and if they had teamed up with the Kodiak…well, the Kodiak must be up to speed in the dirty tricks department too.
Still, even knowing that the bastards were up to something, it had been huge fun for an Earth boy to wander around, rummaging through shops, making the Nietzschean clerks fetch out all kinds of merchandise and talk to a kludge. That's one thing he has to like about this place – the sterling opportunity to order Nietzscheans around. Ah, the pained smiles, the resentful eyes, the barely repressed snarls. Harper grins happily at the tall brunette in the barely there skirt and snug shirt as she stops to stare coldly down at him.
"Yes…sir. One can of Sparky. Anything else?" Her icy tone suggests that there had better not be any further orders from this table.
Harper's grin widens until his dimples show. Oh, she's going to be fun. Tall, beautiful and snarly. Just his type. How many snarls can he provoke before it’s time to leave the cafe? Her brown eyes are already glinting deliciously with temper. Oh, yeah. Let her think she has him cowed for now then when she is least expecting it, he'll demand something else. "That's it for me."
"You can bring me a beer." Bobby leans back in his chair, smiling smugly at the waitress. His brown leather jacket falls open over his tight beige shirt.
The brunette looks his beefy frame over slowly and thoroughly. Her full lips curl back in a sneer. "One Sparky. One beer."
Harper watches as she stalks away, her tiny skirt frisking delightfully around her hips. She had the good taste to not be interested in Bobby. Too bad Beka didn't display a similar disdain. What could Beka possibly see in the oaf? Other than the obvious sex potential of course.
Harper tilts his head, studying the man sitting across from him. Bobby's stocky frame looks almost soft next to lean, chiseled lines of the Nietzscheans sitting behind him. One hand rests on his thick leather belt, ostentatiously close to his holstered gun. His long brown hair frizzes loosely over his thick shoulders. His small brown eyes squint against the sunlight at Harper.
"What are you staring at, shrimp?" Bobby demands with a scowl. His fingers tap suggestively against his gun.
"One of the mysteries of the universe." Harper sighs. If Bobby has any redeeming qualities, they are well hidden. At first, when Beka brought Bobby on board, he had assumed that she was running some scam and that she planned on using and losing the oaf – soon - but Bobby is still with them. Too bad. He likes working on the Maru. He likes the rest of the crew but Bobby…the Maru is just too damned small for the both of them. It may be time to just cut his losses.
Harper looks up as the waitress slaps a frosted can of Sparky down in front of him and a bottle of beer in front of Bobby. Her dark eyes glitter with annoyance as she tosses the check into their midst and stomps away. Ah, the end of that game. Well, there are no shortages of Nietzscheans to annoy on this planet. Harper hides a smile as he watches her strut off to another table. "So, boss, you got some more cargo for us to run or do we get to hang around here for a few days?"
Trance turns from the window to look at Beka.
Beka pushes back her plate and sighs. "Okay, gang. Good news, bad news time."
"What's wrong?" Bobby frowns. He leans closer and slides an arm over Beka's shoulders. His fingers stroke the bare skin showing through the cutouts of her black shirt.
Beka glances at him and pats his thigh. "You know the loan I got from Gerentrix?"
Bobby nods and his frown deepens. "He finally catch up with us? That's no problem, babe. Let me deal with him."
"It's not him. Him, I could handle but the oily little Nightsider got tired of trying to collect and sold it to a Jaguar 'Economic Advisor'." Beka sighs. She stretches her long, black leather clad, legs out under the table. "I spent the last two hours talking terms with him."
"That sounds an awful lot like loan shark to me, boss." Harper winces.
"Give the man a Kewpie doll!" Beka laughs humorlessly.
This does not sound good. Harper finishes his sandwich quickly as he listens. Any of them could have confounded and stalled the Nightsider for the few more cargo runs it would take to pay off the loan but a Jaguar loan shark would be infinitely more difficult to deal with.
"Did he try to claim the Maru?" Rev Bem asks.
Beka shakes her head. "They don't really want the Maru. They want their money. I came back to the ship to find it locked down with a bunch of Nietzschean guards watching it. The damned 'economic advisor' was leaning on the hatch, waiting for me."
"What did you do?" Trance stares, wide-eyed at Beka like a small child listening to fairytales. Her tail curls and uncurls around her chair leg.
"I had to sign over the profits from this last run," Beka admits. Her full lips flatten into angry lines. "Damn it. Still wasn't enough to get the Maru out of hock."
Bobby strokes the barrel of his gun. "Why not just take it back? We can do it, Valentine. Despite this bunch of losers you got crewing for you."
"The only loser here is you, Bobby boy." Harper sips his Sparky. "The rest of us have more brains than to want to piss off the Jaguars. Especially while we are stuck on a planet that is partly controlled by them."
"Did anybody ask you?" Bobby leans across the table, glaring at Harper. "Huh? Did they?"
Harper picks ups the napkin holder casually. "Back off meathead."
"Who you calling 'meathead'? I’ll snap your scrawny neck!" Bobby half rises from his seat.
"Stop it, Bobby." Beka rolls her eyes. "We don't have time for this nonsense with you two. We need to get this resolved so we can get on with business."
Bobby slouches back in his chair, scowling.
Rev leans forward, tapping his claws thoughtfully on the table. "The Jaguar do have a certain reputation. And it is better to settle things peacefully if one can. What do you propose we do, Beka?"
Harper waves his Sparky. "I assume this is the good news part of the equation?" He places the napkin holder back on the table but closer to his side of the table.
Beka nods. "We can do this if you guys will help. The profits from the last run covered most of the debt. We only need to raise a couple thousand thron to finish the payments and buy supplies to last us on the next run. I've already got a new cargo lined up. I'll make this up to you by increasing your shares on the next four runs."
Harper frowns. "So exactly how do we raise enough to pay off the loan shark and his merry band of Nietzscheans? Are we going to rob banks or something?"
"Or something, Harper." Beka looks around the table at her crew. "Trance and Rev are going to take my petty cash fund and hit the gambling tables. The rest of us will hire ourselves out for short-term contracts. Between all of us, we should be able to raise the money." Beka sighs and leans back in her chair. "I saw some advertisements for a job fair in Artemis Square. Apparently you don't have to be a local to participate."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
The ocean shimmers a glorious blue under the morning sun. The gentle waves slide up and down the golden sand with a soft, shushing noise. In the far distance, Freya can see the bright colored sails of the boats that the tourists seemed to love to rent. Why anyone would want to waste their time that way…she shakes her head. The mere idea of bobbing on the waves with nothing between her and the vastness of wide blue sky makes her feel ill.
She shifts in her brown wicker chair. After all those years of living within the tunnels of the Orca Pride asteroid, planets like this make her feel…uneasy. The vast blueness overhead, held at bay only by the wooden roof covering the long deck. All that seemingly endless shimmering blue of the ocean rolling out in from of her, mirroring the vastness of sky…Freya shivers. If only Medea didn’t insist on eating breakfast out here on the deck every morning. If only Barbarossa hadn't sent Tyr here to keep an eye on the Jaguar and guard the Kodiak's interests in this place.
She mostly stayed inside except when she went jogging along the beach with Tyr in the mornings. Something about his presence kept the overwhelming vastness of the outdoors from pressing so heavily against her. Other people could act as a buffer as well, distracting her from the wide sky looming overhead. When she went shopping with Medea, it was not so bad. The journey into the closest city in the confines of a ship was pleasant even and then as long as she was with Medea, she could manage. And fortunately, Medea is too vain and self-absorbed to notice anything. She is safe as long as she can discreetly hide this strange tension that plagues her. It will never do for either Tyr or his First Wife to suspect her peculiar weakness or to begin wondering about her genes.
Freya sighs and stares down at the neat slices of fresh fruit on her green plate. A thick mug of herbal tea steams softly beside the plate. It's good to have an excuse to stay home with Medea and avoid those morning jogs on the beach with Tyr. Those excursions had only been endurable because of her husband's presence and the knowledge that the jog would be followed by a long, satisfying session in bed. Her private reward for enduring the horror of ocean and sky and open spaces. And, now, another reward, her hand tenderly touches the tiny bulge of her stomach. Only married two months and already pregnant. A smirk touches her full red lips. It had taken Medea longer. Despite the First Wife's much vaunted Kodiak genes.
Freya's smirk fades slightly as she studies the First Wife sitting across from her. Just like Medea to look obnoxiously good even now with her belly so round and ripe with child. The long, wavy blond hair is scattered wildly across a lilac satin robe. The lapels fall open over full breasts, barely covered by the lilac lace and satin of the matching gown.
Medea stares down at the plain toast in her hand with a doubtful expression. She cautiously nibbles a corner of the bread and then turns her attention to the flexi lying beside her breakfast plate. A handful of words glow on the tiny screen.
Another 'literary masterpiece' in progress. Freya rolls her eyes. No doubt she will hear the poem soon enough and often. She didn't have a choice in the matter but to listen with whatever grace she could muster. Freya smoothes her hand down the embroidered lapel of her pale blue satin robe. Why Tyr agreed to Medea's proposal is a mystery to her. Freya runs an assessing look over the First Wife.
Medea did come from a prominent family but she is hardly the most brilliant or successful member of it. Nor, even allowing for Tyr's personal preferences, the blondest. If Tyr had to marry someone from that family, there are better choices. Freya fingers her satin sash as she glances cautiously toward the beach. Tyr should be returning by now. Yes, she can see him in the distance. Long, black hair bouncing over his wide shoulders. His chocolate skin covered with a glossy sheen of sweat. Ahhh, her husband is so beautiful. What lovely children they will have.
The sound of voices distracts her and Freya looks across the wide stretch of sand to see that their nearest neighbor, Aretha, is out on her deck. The Jaguar's husband, Brutus is with her. Freya cranes her neck for a better view, Bernice and Laurel, his Second and Third Wives are there as well and…her blue eyes widen…they let it eat breakfast with them!
"Medea. Look." Freya tilts her chin toward the group.
"What?" Medea asks irritably, looking up from the flexi. She glances over her shoulder and goes still. "I can't believe it! The rumors are true then."
Freya nods slowly as she stares at the group merrily breakfasting. The much gossiped about kludge is a slender, dark man in gauzy emerald green pants. He could almost be taken for a sibling of Bernice if the Second Wife was not so obviously Nietzschean. Not surprising if the rumors of the kludge's true status are correct. Brutus favors brunettes every bit as much as her own husband favors blondes. "Apparently so."
For weeks, gossip about the family has been flowing among beachfront families. The first rumor was that Brutus was seeking a Fourth Wife. The next was that his First Wife, Aretha was not pleased. And why should she be? Aretha had seven children by Brutus, already; it was only to be expected that she would not welcome yet another young fertile wife producing rivals to her own offspring. Rumor whispered that the junior wives, Bernice and Laurel were not pleased either. The next set of rumors murmured that Aretha's new kludge was not a servant but…a companion, a concubine.
Freya shudders delicately as she watches Brutus get up; kiss each of his wives and then the kludge before disappearing into the house. "What can they be thinking to sit out in the open where anybody can see them? It's one thing to have heard the rumors but to actually see it."
Medea sniffs as she turns back around in her chair. "You would think that three wives would be more than enough to keep Brutus occupied. I kept Tyr perfectly satisfied all by myself until I got pregnant and didn't feel like indulging him in that way…then he started talking of how nice it would be for me to have the company of another wife and the next thing I knew he brought you home."
"What are you trying to say?" Freya huffs. She glowers at Medea.
Medea arches an eyebrow and smirks knowingly. "I'm not trying to say anything. Really. You are so sensitive these days."
"I'm not being sensitive. You were happy enough to have me assist you all these months, were you not? I keep our husband busy and satisfied giving you time to indulge your little hobby."
"My 'little' hobby?" Medea frowns. "I am an artist. But of course someone like you cannot fully appreciate my gift."
Gift. Pah! Freya rolls her eyes. "I never hope to presume that I understand your gift, Medea. I only meant that by keeping Tyr satisfied you have more time to devote to your work."
"Ahh." Medea sighs then turns back to her flexi. "Although our husband looked a bit less than satisfied when he started his run this morning."
Freya's eyes narrow suspiciously. Did Medea know about this morning? She had been accommodating Tyr despite her lack of any of her former enthusiasm for those prolonged lovemaking sessions that her husband favored. All she wanted since her pregnancy was for him to just get done and go away.
Her breasts are so sensitive and tender; even the lightest touch is annoying as they swell bigger and bigger. Unfortunately her bigger breasts only increased her husband's interest in touching them. Freya sighs. Just this morning, she had tried but her stomach suddenly turned rebellious in the middle of proceedings. Tyr had promptly handed her a damp cloth and retreated to the kitchen to brew a soothing mug of herbal tea.
He had brought it to her in bed and sat beside her for a time, talking as she lay there with a damp cloth over her eyes. He hadn't seemed too displeased despite the unsatisfied jut of his erection beneath the rich fabric of his maroon robe. Definitely there had been no mention of a Third Wife but…Freya frowns thoughtfully. Medea had been exactly three month along when Tyr traveled to Orca Pride on Kodiak business and agreed to her proposal while he was there.
She wouldn't mind having a Third to assist her as she had assisted Medea but…not right now. Not until she was several children ahead and well established in her position as Second. Freya leans forward; her gaze going to the kludge leaning against the railing and pointing out at the sailboats. The three wives are watching him with indulgent expressions. "Still…I heard that Aretha was the one who hired the kludge. Not Brutus."
"What?" Medea drops the remaining corner of her toast back onto her plate. Her blue eyes are wide. "I had not heard that. Are you certain?"
"She hired him at one of those job fairs in the city." Freya stiffens as her gaze slides past the kludge to the beach. "Medea! Who is that?"
Medea looks up wide eyed. "What? Who?"
"There." Freya points toward the beach. "See her…that…painted harlot talking to our husband?"
Medea turns her head sharply to face the beach. She hisses at the sight of a voluptuous blonde flirting with Tyr. "That's Josephine! She is a cousin of mine. She always wanted Tyr but he wanted me. Then when we announced my pregnancy, she showed back up. She paraded herself up and down the beach in practically nothing. I thought that I was going to have to drown the bitch but Barbarossa sent Tyr off to negotiate with Orca Pride and my husband came back with you."
"Josephine was so furious." Medea titters. She adjusts the floral patterned cushions in her chair to better support her back and leans back with a satisfied sigh. "I still treasure the look on her face when she saw Tyr escorting you inside our house."
Freya blinks. She hadn't known that. No wonder Medea had been relatively welcoming to her when Tyr arrived home with a new Second Wife. She is much better than that bimbo flaunting barely covered and quite enormous breasts under Tyr's nose. Her bone blades flutter as she stares, watching the young woman stroking Tyr's arm and smiling up at him. "I will not have her as Third. Two wives are sufficient for now."
"I quite agree." Medea picks up her mug of tea. She sips. "It would be nice to have someone to help out but we can always hire someone for that. No need for a Third. And particularly not that bitch. When it’s time for a Third, it should be someone that we can all agree on."
Freya stares thoughtfully at the neighbor's deck as Aretha's kludge follows the wives back inside. "Perhaps we should talk to Aretha. There has been no talk of Brutus taking a fourth wife since she hired that kludge companion."
Medea wrinkles her nose. "A kludge companion? Are you mad?"
"The kludge won't be there forever. It has a time-limited contract."
Medea takes a slice of fruit from Freya's plate. She munches on it with a considering air. "No harm in talking to Aretha, I suppose."
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"Medea, you are looking lovely these days. You're practically glowing." Aretha sits on her red sofa. Her gauzy white dress flutters gracefully as she reaches for the teapot. Delicate silver and turquoise gauntlets curl around her bone blades. Rich rows of turquoise beads circle her throat. "Tea, dear?"
"You are too kind, Aretha." Medea smiles. Her hands smooth over the heavy bulge filling the front of her loose lavender dress. A gold clasp set with amethysts holds her dress fastened over one slender shoulder. Amethyst studs glint in her ears. "And tea would be lovely. Thank you."
Bernice, the Second Wife, sits next to Aretha. The soft silk of her sage green sari wraps gracefully around her slim, dark body. Small emeralds dot the gold gauntlets glinting on her arms as she waves a casual hand toward the two red china pots sitting on the table. "Would you like some tea or chocolate, Freya?"
"Chocolate. Thank you." Freya accepts a tall red china mug filled with hot chocolate topped with a dollop of whipped cream floating on top of the rich liquid. "Where is Laurel? Is she ill?"
"Oh, no, dear. Our Third Wife is taking dear little Edward out. We promised him a ride on one of those sailboats. They caught his eye while we were eating breakfast and nothing would but that Edward rent one. It seemed a small enough treat to grant the boy. Edward has been very good."
"Edward?" Medea asks as she sweeps an approving glance over the polished wood and glass table covered with a red china platter holding a selection of thinly sliced fruits, a wooden basket filled with delicate sweet rolls and a silver platter with an array of tiny sandwiches. She leans forward and places one of the sandwiches on her saucer. "Would that be the kludge that I saw on your deck this morning?"
Aretha frowns over her teacup. Her deep brown eyes narrow in disapproval. "Medea, dear. We don't use that word in this house since dear Edward joined us."
"Yes." Bernice sips her hot chocolate. "Human is the term that Edward prefers."
Medea arches her eyebrow. "Why would you care what a klu…human prefers?"
Aretha picks up a roll dusted with cinnamon and sugar. "We want Edward to be happy with us. We want him to stay. We want him to renew that contract."
"Quite right." Bernice nods firmly. "We don’t want to be like that Cameron's household. Would you believe the man is displaying for another wife? Another one! He already has eight squeezed into that tiny house."
Aretha bites into her roll with a vicious snap. "Indeed. Eight is more than enough for a man of his status. Nine is simply ridiculous. It's not like Cameron is First Alpha. Then Cameron and Brutus begin talking…you know how competitive men are, dear and the next thing, we know…"
Freya sips her chocolate. "Brutus was considering taking another wife?"
"Not just one. No, he was considering taking two." Bernice rolls her eyes. "As if we are not sufficient. Why, between us, Brutus already has seventeen children. Aretha has six; I have six, and Laurel has five. Until Brutus gets a promotion, we don't need any more children right now. Much less additional wives."
Aretha finishes her roll. "Brutus does very well but there is no sense in stretching one's resources too thinly. We wives decided that three wives are quite enough for Brutus right now."
"Plus we wanted some peace and quiet, now that our youngest batch of children are old enough to start school this year," Bernice adds. "That's when we got Edward."
"Edward has been wonderful." Aretha pours herself another cup of tea and smiles at Medea. "More tea?"
"Please." Medea holds her cup out. "How has this Edward been so useful?"
"Think about it, dear. Edward is a handsome creature and most…well, he keeps Brutus well occupied. The three of us can relax at the spa or spend the day shopping and Brutus is completely satisfied by the time we get back. If we want some time with Brutus, well, Edward is perfectly willing to take the children off to a museum or something. And, of course, he gets scheduled time off to visit his friends or whatever it is that humans like to do."
Bernice giggles. "And we don't have to be concerned about Edward getting pregnant. It's like having a Fourth without the inconveniences."
"And the relationship need not be a permanent one either." Freya sets her empty chocolate cup down.
Aretha looks at her. "Well, actually that's what we were thinking in the beginning. We were even a bit concerned when we only signed Edward to an annual contract but…Brutus has developed quite a fondness for Edward. Then there's all the fun that Brutus has flaunting Edward around Cameron; knowing perfectly well that Cameron's wives would never agree to allow a human into their household."
"The children have become quite fond of Edward." Bernice glances at Freya. "And we find Edward most useful to have around. Frankly, we have grown to like him as well."
Aretha nods. "Yes. Edward is a good boy and quite surprisingly intelligent for a human."
"Why all the questions?" Bernice asks. "Are you thinking of adding a companion to your household?"
Freya sips her chocolate thoughtfully. "Idle curiosity. Nothing more."
Medea leans forward and sets her teacup on the table. She pulls a flexi out of her robes oblivious to the fleeting expressions of horror that flicker over Aretha and Bernice's face. "I have a collection of my work here that I would like to present to you, Aretha. In fact, this copy is special. I just added my very latest poem to it. You are the very first to have it."
"Thank you, dear, that's very sweet." Aretha murmurs weakly as she takes the flexi and hurriedly hands it off to Bernice. "You really shouldn't have."
"Yes." Bernice stares at the flexi with dismay. "Are you certain that we deserve such an honor? Perhaps your family would prefer to be the first to have this honor. Or your husband."
Freya drops her eyes to hide her amusement. Aretha and Bernice would rather give birth than listen to one of Medea's poems. She quite understands the sentiment.
Medea laughs. "Oh, I'm having a special print copy of my love poems printed for my husband and the poems that I've written about my pregnancy created for him. I will give him the copy along with our child. A birth of mind and body, so to speak."
"How…charming." Aretha smiles stiffly.
"I know. I'll recite one of them for you now." Medea's eyes light up.
"Oh, really, dear, don't put yourself to any trouble. Bernice and I can read your lovely poems on the flexi when…when…we have the proper atmosphere in which to appreciate such artistry." Aretha sets her teacup down firmly.
Medea stands up. "I don't mind sharing my talent. I call this poem "Genetic Memory or Variations on a Helix." It's the first poem that I wrote for Tyr when I first discovered that I was pregnant."
Aretha leans back against the sofa cushions and murmurs to Bernice "Pour me some chocolate, Bernice. I suddenly feel the need for something stronger than tea."
"Genetic Memory or Variations on a Helix." Medea recites majestically then pauses, eyeing her audience. She suddenly presses a hand to her ample chest and begins in a booming voice, "Our blood!"
Aretha starts, spilling chocolate on her white skirts. Bernice silently hands her a red linen napkin.
"Our blood!
It flows in our blood!
The memory of
Drago
Flows in our blood.
The trueness of our superiority
The evidence of our mortality
The trust of our sanity
Flows
In our blood."
Medea drops her hand and bows her head.
Aretha looks up from blotting the stain on her robe. "Very nice, dear. Wasn't that nice, Bernice?"
Bernice primly sips her chocolate. "Delightful. We will have to be certain to put this flexi in a safe place where the children can't get at it."
"Oh, yes, indeed." Aretha brightens. "Such a tragedy what happened to the last flexi that Medea was kind enough to honor us with. Most unfortunate."
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Harper swaggers back into the job fair room, refastening his for-hire badge to his scarlet tee shirt. He smirks as he walks past Bobby to toss his latest pay disc to Beka. In the last two days, he had gotten hired for dozens of small repair jobs while Bobby was left each time to sit sullen and unselected in one of the cheap plastic chairs scattered around the room.
Beka glances at the amount on the disc and raises her eyebrows. "Nice. Good job, Harper."
"Oh, it was nothing. Just another minor repair. I guess word is getting around about the genius for hire, I just keep getting offers. Haven't even had a chance to rest or grab some lunch today. You look well rested, Bobby. Bet you had plenty of time for lunch. Got any offers yet?" Harper slants Bobby a mocking look.
Bobby glares. "Shut up, freak."
"I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to hire you as a bodyguard, Bobby." Harper tilts his head, pretending to consider. "I mean, hey, a choice between you and a Nietzschean, what kind of choice is that? Should be no contest there."
"Shut up, you little, maggot!" Bobby surges to his feet. "I’ve had enough of your mouth."
"Guys." Beka stretches her lean black clad form, shifting on the bright orange chair. Her blue eyes glitter with annoyance. "Knock it off. Now."
"Whatever you say, Boss." Harper sneers at Bobby and leans casually against the cool metal wall. His gaze skims uneasily over the others in the room. The humans are scattered around the same quarter of the room that he is in. A few Than and other species mixed in among them. The Nietzscheans are lounging and posing on the other side of the room.
He straightens as a soft chime sounds from his badge and the orange, yellow and blue lights on it begin flashing. Harper sighs loudly. "Well, would you look at that? Paged for another interview already. No rest for the talented." Harper pushes away from the wall and carefully steps on Bobby’s booted foot on his way to the area set aside as an interviewing section.
"Hey! You did that on purpose! I'll rip you a new one you scrawny, pencil-necked, geek!" Bobby bellows.
Harper saunters toward the cubicles, ignoring Bobby's aggravated voice rising behind him. He can only hope that this job will be more interesting and challenging than the last couple of jobs.
Well, well, well. This job is looking up already. Harper pauses to stare at the two blonde beauties watching him from behind a rickety wooden table. The shorter woman has a round, pale face with slanting blue eyes. Her hair is swept up but a few tendrils curl artfully around her throat. The curving neckline of her lavender dress showcases the creamy curves of her heavy breasts. Beneath her breasts, her abdomen swells round and full.
Harper looks at the other blonde. She is tall and lean with an athlete's figure that only makes the slight bulge of pregnant abdomen stand out beneath her rose pink robes. Her long hair is neatly tamed into a long, thick braid dangling over one shoulder.
He eases further into the room. Both women are staring at him with unnervingly intent expressions as if they are judging and weighing everything about him. "Hi there, ladies. What can the Harper do for you? Got a pesky engineering problem needing to be solved? Look no further."
"The Harper?" Medea frowns. "What is that?"
"That would be me. Harper. Seamus Zelazny Harper." Harper bows. "At your service."
The two women trade a long look with each other then the lean one turns back to him with a smile. "I am Freya Anasazi of Kodiak Pride. This is Medea Anasazi also of Kodiak Pride."
"Great. Nice to meet ya." Harper shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "So what can I do for you?"
"Medea is First Wife. I am Second Wife to Pride Kodiak's heir."
"Okaaaay…" Harper shrugs. Okay. He'll play. "And he would be, who?"
"Second Alpha of Kodiak Pride. Son of the First Alpha, Barbarossa." Freya adds evasively.
"So you having problems with computer systems, engineering problems?" Harper asks.
Medea looks him over thoughtfully. "He's short."
"Hey, Lady!" Harper protests. "I'm compact, not short. The better to fit into all those tight little conduits."
"Yes, of course." Freya frowns at Medea. "We might be able to use you to help us with a few pesky problems around the house."
"The Harper is thoroughly house trained." Harper smiles brightly.
"I beg your pardon?" Medea's eyes widen. She turns to look at Freya. "You mean some of them are not house broken?!"
"I think he's showing humor." Freya whispers.
"Ahhhh…humor." Medea nods.
Freya continues. "We live in a beachfront house with access to…"
"Beachfront? Did you say your house is on the beach?" Harper leans over the table.
"Yes it is."
"Oh man, that is too cool. So what do you need fixed?" Harper asks.
Freya pushes a list of repairs across the table. Harper picks up the flexi and scans it. "Okay, busted communications unit. Not a problem. House security system." He looks up suddenly. "You know I can actually upgrade your current system, if you'd like."
"That would be nice." Freya nods. "Do any of these jobs seem outside your area of expertise?"
Harper reads on. "Environmental control repair and upgrade, Entertainment system re-installation…nah. I can do all this stuff with my eyes closed."
"Very good. We are looking for someone who can handle these repairs plus do a few other duties around the house."
"Hey, I don't do housework and I'm not a groundskeeper type." Harper holds up his hand.
"We don't expect you to do that. We have a complete staff." Freya waves her hand dismissively. "We would need you for some other specialized work. If you're willing."
"So how much does this pay?" Harper folds his arms over his chest.
"Are you a natural blonde?" Medea asks suddenly.
"WHAT?!" Harper takes a step back. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"It’s just that our husband won't allow anyone in the house who is not blonde. Even the staff." Freya smiles regretfully. That's not entirely true. Tyr will only mate with a blonde. Medea and she have made sure that the staff is resoundingly brunette.
"Oh, weird." Harper shakes his head. He's heard it all now. "Yeah. I'm a 'natural' blonde." Harper's hands drop to the waist of his cargo pants. "Wanna check?"
"NO! That won't be necessary." Medea averts her eyes quickly.
"Here's the contract. Look it over and sign please. We need you to start right away." Freya's gaze lingers on his dataport. "Are you interested in jobs other than engineering ones?"
"What kind?" Harper picks up the contract and eyes it quickly. "This says this contract is for a year. Is that right?"
"Yes. Is that a problem? We're more than willing to compensate you accordingly." Freya leans back in the chair.
Harper scans the contract. "What are all these little asterisks by the duties?"
Freya widens her eyes. The little kludge is observant. "Oh that's nothing. It just lets us know what your duties include."
"Right. I'm not seeing pay listed here."
"Check the last page above the signature field." Freya leans forward.
Harper whistles softly when he sees the figure. This job alone will get the Maru out of hock. Beka ought to really be pleased with that. He doesn't care if it's cleaning out sewage systems, he'll do it. The duties are easy and the house is on the beach. Maybe he can squeeze some surfing time in.
"Okay. Well I want half the money up front." Harper is firm on this. If he is going to be tied up for a year the least he can do is get Beka the money she needs to get the Maru out of hock."
"That's fairly unconventional." Freya hedges.
Harper folds his arms. "Then we don't have a deal."
Freya and Medea share a look. Medea nods. "Fine. Half up front. But we cancel your probationary period. You will be committed to working for us for the full year. No questions asked."
"Fine." Harper shrugs.
"Good. Then we have a deal?" Freya asks.
"This says that I'll be expected to live in the residence. Is that right?" Harper frowns.
The two women look at each other and then back at Harper. "That's quite right. You'll have room and board. You will also have some free time should you want to swim or whatever."
"I can bring my surfboard?" Harper asks hopefully.
"Of course." Freya nods.
Medea leans close to Freya and whispers. "What's a surfboard?" Freya shrugs.
"And I sign where?"
"Right there on that section." Freya points to the section.
"Wait a second." Harper frowns at a line. "Does this say the main duty is a 'comforter'? Is that what this says?" Harper points to the line.
"Why yes it does?" Freya smiles winningly.
"What does that mean?" Harper frowns.
Freya frowns. "Exactly what it says. You will provide comfort to a member of the Anasazi household."
Harper grins. Okay. The babes want a babysitter and they're willing to pay well for it. He can see that they're both pregnant. So they need a little handholding. They're cute so that's not gonna be a problem. Harper signs on the line.
"Fine. No problem. We have a deal." Harper looks at both women. "I'll need to contact my shipmates and let them know what's going on."
"You may contact them from our transport. We will be leaving within the hour." Freya takes the contract and passes it to Medea. "We'll give you your copy when you're aboard."
"What about my clothes? I'll need those." Harper insists.
"You may purchase what you need before we leave." Freya stands. She hands Harper a paper with the location of their transport and a handful of throns to purchase supplies. "I trust this will suffice."
Harper gazes at the handful of coins. More than enough to purchase clothing and a few odd items. Yep, the Harper has jumped on the gravy train. "Yeah. This'll do fine."
"Good. Meet us at the transport in twenty minutes. We will transfer half of your fee into your account when you are aboard."
"Cool."
TBC