Page 26 of Technically Abducted (Nereidan Compatibility Program #4)

Finn

We're both sticky and thoroughly satisfied, cream and come drying on our skin in ways that would normally make me immediately want a shower. But lying here against Tev'ra's chest, feeling our empathic connection flowing between us, I'm reluctant to move.

"We should clean up," Tev'ra says eventually, his voice still rough from our activities. "The hydration pools would be ideal."

The moment he says it, my stomach clenches with familiar anxiety. The pool. Deep water. Water I can't swim in, can barely float in even with his help. The apprehension hits me like a physical wave, and I know Tev'ra feels it immediately through our bond because his arms tighten around me.

"There are cleaning facilities available if you would prefer not to bathe in the pools," he says carefully, his tone gentle and non-judgmental. "Whatever makes you most comfortable."

I sit up, looking down at him. His golden eyes are warm with understanding, no trace of impatience or disappointment. Just acceptance. But the thought of separating, of him going to the pools while I use some sterile cleaning facility, doesn't feel right either.

"I want to be with you," I say quietly. "I just... the deep water..."

"The smaller pool," Tev'ra suggests, sitting up as well. "You were comfortable there before."

"But you want to really swim, don't you?" I can see it in his expression, the way he talked about the deeper sections. "I mean, actually swim, not just help me learn to float in the kiddie pool."

Tev'ra's bioluminescence flickers. "Your comfort is more important than my swimming preferences."

"But I want you to be comfortable too." I pause, processing what I'm about to suggest. "What if... what if I stayed in the deep pool but just held onto the edge? Like, I wouldn't go in the water-water, I'd just... hang on the side?"

"Finn." Tev'ra's voice is very gentle. "That pool has no shallow end. If you're holding the edge, you're in water that's over your head."

My throat goes dry just thinking about it. Water over my head. Water where I can't touch the bottom, can't save myself if something goes wrong. But the alternative is being separated from Tev'ra, and somehow that feels worse.

"You'd be right there," I say, more to convince myself than him. "You could... you could see me the whole time?"

"Every second," Tev'ra promises. "And the edge has built-in grips specifically designed for non-swimmers. But Finn, there's no pressure. The smaller pool is perfectly adequate for cleaning, and I can swim anytime."

I look into his eyes, seeing nothing but patience and care. He'd give up what he wants without hesitation just to keep me comfortable.

"I want to try," I say. "I want to be with you."

Tev'ra studies my face for a long moment, then nods. "All right. But we establish safety protocols first. You don't let go of the edge. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you tell me immediately and we move to the smaller pool. No heroics, no pushing through fear just to prove something."

"Deal," I say, though my voice wavers slightly.

We make our way to the pool area, and I'm struck again by how beautiful this space is. The larger pool stretches out before us, the water so clear and still it's like dark glass. My heart starts hammering as we approach the edge.

Tev'ra moves to a control panel, and suddenly the room dims. The ceiling comes alive with stars—not just any stars, but ones I recognize immediately.

The Chicago sky, the constellations visible from my city, but impossibly bright and clear.

Like seeing my home sky without the light pollution that usually washes out half the stars.

"How did you—" I start, then stop. Of course he knows where I live. He spent twelve hours in my apartment.

"I thought familiar stellar patterns might be comforting," Tev'ra says quietly. "Though I enhanced the visibility significantly. Your planet's atmospheric conditions and urban lighting obscure much of what should be visible."

I stare up at the artificial sky, seeing the Big Dipper and Orion more clearly than I've ever seen them in real life. It's beautiful and somehow heartbreaking at the same time—a reminder of how much we lose to our own progress.

"It's perfect," I tell him honestly.

Tev'ra activates the edge grips, and I see handles and ledges that definitely weren't visible before extending from the pool's rim. They look solid, designed specifically for someone like me to hold onto safely.

"The water circulation ensures constant temperature and cleanliness," Tev'ra explains as he slides into the pool with the same fluid grace I remember from our first lesson. "And the mineral content has antiseptic properties."

He surfaces near where I'm still standing, treading water effortlessly while he waits for me to decide. There's no pressure in his expression, just patience.

I sit on the edge first, letting my legs dangle into the warm water. It feels good, familiar from our previous sessions. But this time, when I slide in, there's no bottom to find with my feet. Just water, extending down into darkness I can't see the end of.

My hands immediately find the grips, squeezing tight enough that my knuckles go white. The water comes up to my chest, and I can feel the depth beneath me like a living thing.

"How deep is it?" I ask, then immediately regret the question when I see Tev'ra's expression.

"Does knowing help, or does it make the fear worse?" he asks gently.

I think about it. Usually, not knowing makes my anxiety spike. But something in his careful tone suggests that knowing might be worse in this case.

"Don't tell me," I decide. "I don't want to know."

"Good choice," Tev'ra says, and there's approval in his voice. "Is there anything else you need to know to feel safe?"

"Is there... I mean, is it just water down there? Just empty space?"

"Just water," Tev'ra confirms. "It's a pool, Finn. Clean, filtered water and nothing else. It's only that it's deep water."

The simple honesty in his voice helps more than any technical explanation would have. It's just deep. That's the only scary thing about it. I can handle deep, especially with these grips and Tev'ra right here.

"Okay," I breathe. "I'm okay."

Tev'ra swims closer, close enough that I could reach out and touch him but not so close that he's crowding me. "You're very brave," he says quietly.

Before I can respond, he dives smoothly beneath the surface, and suddenly the water around me comes alive with blue-green light.

His bioluminescence creates patterns in the water like nothing I've ever seen—trails of light that follow his movements, turning his swimming into something that looks more like flying through space than moving through water.

He's beautiful. Graceful in a way that takes my breath away, moving through the water like he was born for it. Which, I suppose, he was. This is his element, his natural habitat, and watching him swim freely for the first time makes me understand something fundamental about who he is.

He surfaces near me, not even breathing hard despite the complex underwater dance I just witnessed.

"That was incredible," I tell him. "You're incredible."

His bioluminescence flares with what I now recognize as pleased embarrassment. "Nereidans are adapted for aquatic environments. It's simply natural movement for us."

"It's not just natural, it's art. The way you move, the way the light follows you..." I trail off, not having words for what I just witnessed.

Tev'ra dives again, this time staying closer to where I'm hanging onto the edge. The light patterns swirl around me, beneath me, and I realize I'm not afraid anymore. How can I be afraid when there's something so graceful just below me? When I can see exactly where he is at every moment?

When he surfaces this time, he's close enough that I can reach out and touch his shoulder. His skin is warm and incredibly soft under the water, and when I make contact, his bioluminescence flares gently beneath my fingers.

"The bioluminescence," I say. "It's like having a lighthouse right here with me."

"Is that helpful? Knowing where I am at all times?"

"Very helpful." I trace my fingers along his collarbone, fascinated by how the light patterns respond to my touch. "And beautiful. God, Tev'ra, you're so beautiful in the water."

His skin brightens with pleased embarrassment, and he moves even closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body in the cooler water.

"You're not afraid?" he asks softly.

I consider this, still touching him, still marveling at the way his bioluminescence pulses beneath my hands. "I'm terrified," I admit. "But you're here, and I can see you, and that's... that's enough."

Tev'ra reaches up to cup my face with one wet hand, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "You continue to amaze me."

Before I can ask what he means, he's kissing me. Soft and sweet at first, then deeper as I respond. The empathic connection flares between us, carrying his wonder at my trust, my growing sense of safety despite the deep water surrounding us.

When we break apart, I'm breathing harder.

"I want to try something," I say, surprising myself with my own boldness.

"What?"

"Can you... can you float right here? Right next to me? I want to try leaning back, but I want to be able to touch you."

Tev'ra nods immediately, positioning himself so he's floating on his back right beside where I'm gripping the edge. Close enough that I can rest my hand on his chest if I want to.

Slowly, carefully, I lean back slightly, testing my grip on the handles. They hold perfectly, supporting my weight without strain. "I never thought I'd feel safe in water over my head."

"You're safe," Tev'ra says simply. "I would never let anything happen to you."

The absolute certainty in his voice makes something settle in my chest. I believe him. Completely.