Page 10 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

10

MICAH

Ziggy Andromeda was acting squirrely.

Squirrelier than usual, I mean.

Unfortunately for my man, I could sense his emotions to some extent, and while my stellar collision sonar wasn’t as enhanced as his, I could still tell he was bunched up about something.

“Is this about me sticking a finger in your ass?” I blurted out, no longer able to hold it in.

What?

We all know I have no filter.

“E-excuse me?” Ziggy choked out, his pale skin blushing adorably beneath his murder freckles.

“You’re acting weird, dude,” I huffed, apparently more confident than him that no one around us understood Earthling American English. “And I need to know if I did something wrong.”

Because I’m sensitive, goddamnit!

Ziggy’s expression softened. “No, sunshine. This isn’t about anything you did.” When I continued to stare at him expectantly, he sighed and shifted awkwardly on his feet. “However, I… would rather work through it on my own a bit before discussing it with you… if you don’t mind.”

Oh.

Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that.

As nosey as I was, I respected his answer. To be honest, I was downright proud of this emotionally constipated alien admitting something was wrong in the first place, much less communicating he needed time to process.

And that deserves to be celebrated.

“Roger that.” I nodded decisively and steered the conversation to safer waters. “So which gun are we buying today?”

We’d stopped at the shop of Ziggy’s favorite weapons merchant, which happened to be located near Astrum Force’s laboratories. Even though I was dying to see Pedro again, I’d encouraged the detour, because if there was one thing Space Daddy enjoyed— besides fucking me senseless, of course —it was adding to his already overflowing arsenal.

And what Space Daddy wants, Space Daddy gets.

Ziggy smiled gratefully before returning his focus to the merchandise spread out on the crystal case before us. “I’m having trouble deciding,” he murmured, which was even more off-brand than him talking about feelings. “Which one do you think I should buy?”

Gasp!

It may have seemed like overkill— literally —for a creature with built-in Samurai tendrils to own so many weapons, but I was more than happy to be the enabler. I was far better at conjuring up defensive shields than creating complex alien weaponry, so the selection at shops like this always impressed me —even if I was pretty pleased with how my wannabe Stellarian tendrils had turned out.

Although they’re nowhere near as cool as Zig’s…

Even with how excessive it was, I found my man’s murder weapon collection as sexy as his skinsuit closet— almost— so being asked to weigh in on the newest addition had me feeling like a kid in a candy store.

“Let me see…” I rubbed my hands together, evil villain-style. “Which one will make us look like the baddest bitches in all the galaxies?”

Ziggy snorted but patiently waited for me to decide. I ran my hands over the merchandise, pausing at a futuristic looking crossbow— because then we could get medieval on someone’s ass —before my gaze fell on a humorously oversized, neon green and orange ray gun that clearly came from the intergalactic department of ACME Corporation.

Beep beep—that’s the one!

I grinned as Ziggy picked it up, only to grow impatient as he lingered on testing its heft, pressing buttons, staring down the scope, and generally taking forever to hand it to me.

“C’mon, Zig,” I whined, reaching for my prize with grabby hands. “I wanna— hoooly shit! Jesus, that’s heavy…”

He snickered as I almost dropped the deceptively light-looking gun. When I glared, Ziggy gracefully moved behind me, curling his body around mine to demonstrate how to support its weight.

Maybe I can just balance it on my erection…

I sighed before letting him take it back. “Yeah, I don’t think this one’s gonna work for me—not unless I hold it with my tendrils.”

Ziggy tensed, and I wondered if maybe it was considered uncouth for Stellarians to use their tendrils for anything other than tasting emotions or disemboweling enemies.

Or making babies…

“You look badass holding it, though.” I gave him an exaggerated once-over. “It kind of reminds me of something Bowie would’ve used as a prop during his Spiders from Mars tour.”

Put your ray gun to my head.

My stellar collision’s face lit up, but he tried to play it off with a scowl. “Actually, it was called the Ziggy Stardust Tour, although Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars was only one of the albums being promoted.”

Such a hot boomer.

“Wait…” I feigned ignorance, as if I hadn’t mentally catalogued every piece of personal intel this alien had ever spilled. “Were you the inspiration for The Man Who Fell to Earth? Or a starry-eyed groupie, touring with the band?”

Ziggy rolled his eyes as he paid the gun merchant with the usual, yet-to-be-explained handful of skeletal remains that passed for currency around here.

It’s probably better not to know.

“The Man Who Fell to Earth didn’t come out until a few years later, but it was based on a novel from a decade prior.” He cleared his throat, squirming awkwardly once again. “However, I did tour with Bowie for a bit. In a way…”

What?!

“You did?” I yelped, my eyes nearly bugging out of my skull. “You never told me you were a Bowie roadie!”

“I would hardly call myself a roadie, Micah,” Ziggy murmured distractedly, searching his utility belt for where to attach his shiny new ray gun. “I was simply stalking the tour in my true form until we made it to Kansas City. That’s where I found this skinsuit.”

My chest tightened as I remembered the heartbreaking story he’d once shared. How he’d stumbled upon a dying Midwestern boy who had never been accepted by his family—who’d thought Ziggy was an angel delivering him to heaven.

A heaven he’d already been denied entry to because of who he loved.

“And then, once the tour arrived on the West Coast, I sensed I should stick around,” Ziggy hurriedly continued, unsurprisingly not wanting to linger on that moment of vulnerability. “Make that area of the country my home base while I created my superhero identity.”

Star Hopper, the Deathball player.

I quickly conjured up a holster for his new toy, earning me another coveted smile. “Were you…. picking up on Theo’s resonance?” I hesitantly asked, not wanting to reopen old wounds but curious if Ziggy knew what was happening at the time.

My heart swelled with pride again as he carefully considered his reply instead of shutting down like he had in the past when his wayward parent was brought up.

“No, I don’t believe resonance was to blame,” he finally replied once we were out on the glittering Stellarian streets again. “It was more like a… gut feeling. An intuition, perhaps? I would call it the sixth sense I’ve developed over the years from hunting my prey.”

Hot.

Before I could coax him into more horny war stories, we reached our destination—a shimmering pearlescent door set in an otherwise nondescript building.

As nondescript as this yassified planet can be.

The instant we stepped through the door, a Stellarian materialized before us in true starry form.

“Ahh, welcome!” they greeted us in musical tones. “You must be Ziggy and Micah Andromeda.”

Oh.

My.

God.

MICAH ANDROMEDA!!!

“That’s us!” I enthusiastically replied in the trade language.

Ziggy choked on air, but then he somehow slammed his emotions shut before I could get a read on them.

You can’t escape destiny, Space Daddy.

We’re already space fiancés—no take backsies.

“How is Pedro?” I blurted out, since there was something I was currently more invested in than our marital status. “Can we see them?”

Luckily, the Stellarian didn’t seem offended by my pushiness. “Of course! We have already taken a fur sample and conducted a basic physical exam but were then told you insisted on being present before we drew blood.”

Drew blood?!

Oh, right.

For testing.

Irrational worry still had me anxiously wringing my hands as we followed our guide down a sterile white hallway, and it was only Ziggy’s steady grip on my shoulder that stopped me from bolting ahead to find our alien baby.

Calm down, mother hen.

I’d only been responsible for Pedro’s wellbeing for a couple of days, but apparently, that was long enough to grow attached.

Maybe I imprinted on them…

I was surprised but relieved to see Honnor waiting for us inside the lab, even if their Stellarian armor was blinding me with the glare from the fluorescents above.

Craning my neck, I searched for our little creature friend. “Where’s?—”

“Pedro?” Honnor replied, clearly amused by the familiarity as he stepped aside to reveal a cowering ball of fur. “She’s right here.”

She?

Before I could confirm what I’d heard, the feral tumbleweed was launching themselves— herself?— into Ziggy’s arms.

Squee!

“She?” Zig calmly addressed Honnor, determined to play it cool despite the cuteness.

“Yes,” his maker replied, turning to grab a small collection kit before handing it to me. “Whatever species Pedro is, she appears to be a female.”

I swallowed thickly, wondering why I was suddenly the one in charge of gathering a blood sample from…

“Well, I’m still going to call them Pedro,” I snipped as I readied the needle and syringe. “It’s gender neutral enough.”

Executive decision.

Blowing out a slow breath, I took a step toward the alien before pausing, unsure how to proceed.

What if I hurt them?

Sensing my distress, Ziggy shifted Pedro’s position, stretching out their little arm and firmly holding it in place so I could aim for a vein.

What if they don’t have veins?!

“Allow me, sunshine,” my man offered when I continued to hesitate, unleashing a tendril to deftly snatch the syringe from my hand.

Unsurprisingly, Pedro did not like the sight of those starry katanas, but they only released a single hiss before slumping in Ziggy’s hold—as if suddenly overcome by exhaustion.

Sleep powers, more likely.

“Thank you…” Zig murmured, glancing at his creator, and my heart warmed to see him accepting the help he deserved.

Equally unsurprising was that a Stellarian was able to locate a vein on a shaggy fur-covered creature almost immediately. As soon as the blood sample was acquired and handed off to the lab tech, Honnor released our patient from their doze.

That was stressful!

“Now, let’s commence a more thorough physical examination.” Honnor nodded at the tech before gesturing toward a metal countertop that looked freshly cleaned. “There was an odd breastplate formation I would like to take a closer look at ? —”

The other Stellarian reached for Pedro with starry tendrils, but then froze when a siren abruptly blared outside.

“What is that?!” I hissed, grabbing the alien baby from Zig and clutching them against my chest while peering around the windowless room.

Honnor was already barking orders into their Celestial Cube, so I looked at my man for answers.

Ziggy’s pale skin had gone even paler. “Air raid alarm,” he murmured, his gaze growing distant. “It appears Stellaria is under attack.”