Page 10

Derek

The dining facility has been transformed since our disaster lunch.

Gone is the sterile, romantic restaurant setup, replaced with something that actually looks.

.. comfortable. The lighting is warmer, the table smaller, and there are actual colors in the space instead of the relentless white-and-blue theme.

"Huh," I say as I settle into my chair, noting the changes. "Someone's been busy redecorating."

Kav'eth enters precisely on time, of course he does, looking like he stepped out of an alien fashion magazine. Every piece of his formal attire is perfectly aligned, his posture is diplomatically correct, and his expression reveals absolutely nothing.

But his bioluminescence is... different. Instead of the steady, controlled glow I've come to expect, there are flickering patterns beneath his skin that seem restless somehow. I don't know enough about alien mood lighting to interpret what it means, but something's definitely changed.

"The environmental parameters were adjusted based on your feedback regarding human comfort preferences," he says, taking his seat across from me with mechanical precision. "I trust the modifications are adequate."

"They're actually really nice," I tell him honestly. "Much better than the alien luxury hotel vibe from before. Though I have to ask, are you feeling okay? You seem different somehow."

A brief flicker of something crosses his features before the diplomatic mask slides back into place. "I am functioning within normal parameters. Shall we proceed with the meal service?"

"Sure, but first—" I lean forward slightly, studying his face. "What happened to the 'structured social interaction' and 'interpersonal compatibility evaluation'? You sound like you're reading from a manual again."

"The assessment protocols require—"

"Kav'eth," I interrupt gently. "You literally just spent an hour adjusting this entire room to make me more comfortable. That's not protocol behavior. That's thoughtful behavior. So what's with the sudden return to Robot Diplomat mode?"

His bioluminescence flickers more noticeably, and he looks down at his hands for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Perhaps the previous interaction became... less structured than optimal for proper assessment purposes."

"You mean when I asked if you were attracted to me and you ran away?"

The blue flush spreads across his cheekbones, his carefully controlled expression cracking slightly. "I did not run away. I withdrew to complete necessary administrative duties."

"Right. Administrative duties." I grin at him, noting how his glow intensifies when he's flustered. "So those duties are all caught up now?"

"For the moment, yes."

"Good. Because I've been thinking about our conversation by the pool."

Kav'eth goes very still, his bioluminescence dimming to almost nothing. "Indeed."

"Yeah. And I think we need to address the elephant in the room."

"I am unfamiliar with that expression."

"The obvious thing we're both tiptoeing around.

" I lean back in my chair, trying to figure out how to say this without making him bolt again.

"Look, I don't know much about how your people handle.

.. attraction, or relationships, or whatever this is supposed to be.

But I know enough about people in general to recognize when someone's interested but fighting it. "

"Nothing is happening between us," Kav'eth says, but his voice lacks conviction and his bioluminescence does that flickering thing again.

"Really? Because your body language says otherwise. And that glow thing you do? It goes crazy every time we get within three feet of each other."

"I did not flee—"

"You fled," I say, but not unkindly. "And look, that's fine. This whole situation is bizarre and we're both trying to figure out how to handle it. But the back-and-forth thing isn't helping either of us."

Kav'eth stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him wrestling with something internal. Finally, he sighs, a very human sound from a very non-human being.

"You are... not incorrect," he admits quietly. "The situation has become more complex than anticipated."

"Complex how?"

"I am finding it... difficult to maintain proper scientific objectivity regarding your assessment."

I can't help but smile at the careful phrasing. "Scientific objectivity. Is that what we're calling it?"

"It is the appropriate term for—"

"Kav'eth," I interrupt, keeping my voice gentle. "Can you just tell me what you're actually thinking? Not the diplomatic version, not the scientifically appropriate version. Just... what's really going on here?"

He's quiet for so long I think he might not answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

"I am thinking that you are far more appealing than any assessment subject should be.

I am thinking that your confidence and directness are.

.. affecting me in ways that compromise my ability to evaluate you objectively.

I am thinking that the next two days will be significantly more challenging than I originally anticipated. "

"Okay," I say, processing this. "And how do you feel about that?"

"Terrified," he answers immediately, then looks surprised that he admitted it so readily.

"Terrified of what?"

"Of... of wanting something I am not supposed to want. Of caring about someone I am supposed to view as a research subject. Of the possibility that this assessment will conclude and I will be required to..." He stops, shaking his head. "This is highly inappropriate."

"What will you be required to do?"

"Submit my findings to the Council. If the assessment indicates incompatibility, you return to Earth and I..." He looks down at his hands. "I return to my duties, having failed in my assignment."

The admission hangs between us, raw and honest and vulnerable in a way that makes my chest tight. This powerful alien diplomat is sitting across from me looking lost and scared because he's developing feelings for someone he's supposed to be evaluating professionally.

It's not exactly a situation I have experience with, but the fear of losing someone you're just starting to care about? That's universal.

"And that scares you," I say, not really a question.

"Yes."

"Good."

Kav'eth looks up sharply. "Good?"

"It means this matters to you. It means this isn't just some academic exercise." I lean forward, meeting his eyes directly. "It means you actually care about what happens here."

"I am not supposed to care," he says, but there's less conviction in his voice now.

"Says who? Your protocols? Your Council?" I pause, trying to think this through. "Look, I don't understand alien politics or whatever pressures you're dealing with. But I know that trying to evaluate relationship compatibility without caring about the people involved sounds pretty much impossible."

Kav'eth considers this, his bioluminescence shifting to softer patterns. "No," he says finally. "I do not believe meaningful compatibility can be assessed without... personal investment."

"Then maybe your protocols are the problem, not your feelings."

The food synthesizer chimes softly, indicating our meal is ready, but neither of us moves to retrieve it. We're too focused on each other, on this conversation that feels more important than any structured assessment activity.

"Derek," Kav'eth says carefully, "what are you hoping to achieve with this line of discussion?"

"Honesty," I answer immediately. "From both of us. Because if we're going to figure out whether we're compatible for... whatever your people call long-term partnership... we need to be real with each other."

"And you believe honesty is more important than proper assessment protocols?"

"I think honesty is the only way assessment protocols can actually work." I stand up, moving around the table to retrieve our meals from the synthesizer. "Besides, you want to know something funny?"

"What?"

"I'm attracted to you too."

I hear his sharp intake of breath behind me as I collect the plates. When I turn back, his bioluminescence is flaring in patterns I haven't seen before, brighter and more complex, like joy mixed with relief mixed with panic.

"You are?"

"Completely." I set his plate in front of him, noting that the food actually looks appetizing this time, recognizable proteins and vegetables arranged in a way that suggests actual consideration for human preferences rather than just nutritional optimization.

"The formal diplomat thing, the way you try so hard to maintain control, the fact that you're clearly brilliant but also completely out of your depth with this whole situation. .. it's all incredibly attractive."

"I am out of my depth," Kav'eth admits, staring down at his plate.

"So am I," I tell him, settling back into my chair. "The difference is, I'm okay with that. I'm okay with figuring things out as we go instead of following some predetermined script."

"You are remarkably adaptable."

"It's one of my better qualities. Along with my devastatingly good looks and my ability to call out bullshit when I see it."

That gets me a small smile, the first genuine expression I've seen from him since he entered the dining facility. "Your confidence is notable."

"Is that diplomatic speak for 'annoying'?"

"No," Kav'eth says, and his smile becomes slightly more pronounced. "It is diplomatic speak for 'attractive.'"

"Good to know." I take a bite of what appears to be actual seasoned chicken, not the molecular reconstruction from lunch, but something that tastes like it was prepared by someone who understands flavor. "Holy shit, this is actually good. Like, really good. What did you do differently?"

"I consulted additional resources regarding human culinary preferences," Kav'eth says, looking pleased with my reaction. "And requested more specific ingredient parameters from the nutrition team."

"Additional resources?"

"Human culinary entertainment programs. Your species appears to document food preparation extensively for... recreational viewing purposes."

I grin. "You watched cooking shows."

"I observed multiple episodes of what appears to be competitive food preparation, yes. The participants were quite... emphatic about the importance of seasoning and flavor balance."

"Let me guess - you found Gordon Ramsay."

"The individual with the extensive vocabulary of creative profanity? Yes. His techniques appeared sound, though his communication methods were... intense."

I can't help but laugh at the image of formal alien diplomat Kav'eth trying to learn human food culture from Gordon Ramsay. "That explains the improvement. Though I'm impressed you managed to translate any of that into actual edible food."

"The nutritional team found his specifications... challenging to implement while maintaining diplomatic language protocols."

"I can imagine," I say, grinning. "Gordon's not exactly known for his diplomatic vocabulary."

We eat in comfortable silence for several minutes, the tension that marked the beginning of our meal gradually dissolving into something warmer and more promising.

I find myself studying Kav'eth as he eats - the careful way he holds his utensils, the way his bioluminescence has settled into steadier, warmer patterns now that we're being honest with each other.

"Can I tell you what I see when I look at you?" I ask eventually.

Kav'eth pauses mid-bite, looking uncertain. "If you wish."

"I see someone who's trying really hard to do the right thing for his people, even when it conflicts with what he wants personally. Someone who's thoughtful enough to redesign an entire room based on casual feedback. Someone who's scared of his own feelings but brave enough to admit they exist."

Kav'eth stares at me, his golden eyes wide with something that might be wonder. "You see all that?"

"I see someone worth getting to know better," I tell him honestly. "The question is whether you're brave enough to let that happen."

We eat in comfortable silence for several minutes, the tension that marked the beginning of our meal gradually dissolving into something warmer and more promising. When Kav'eth finally speaks again, his voice carries a decision that I can hear even before he voices it.

"Derek," he says carefully, "would you be willing to deviate from the established assessment schedule for the remainder of the evening?"

"Depends on what you have in mind."

"I would like to... get to know you better. Not as an assessment subject, but as... yourself. Without protocols or structured interactions or predetermined evaluation criteria."

I set down my fork and look at him directly. "Are you asking me on a date, Councilor Kav'eth?"

The blue flush spreads across his entire face, his bioluminescence flaring in patterns that definitely read as embarrassment mixed with hope. "I suppose I am."

"Then yes," I say, grinning. "I would absolutely be willing to deviate from your assessment schedule for an actual date with you."

"Excellent," Kav'eth says, and for the first time since I met him, he looks genuinely happy instead of diplomatically composed. "Though I should warn you, I have no experience with human dating customs."

"Lucky for you, I have plenty of experience with figuring things out as we go. And I think that's exactly what we both need right now."