Alien Tango

number so we could be pals? The one who made the first phone call to me? Her?” I kissed Martini’s chest, quietly.
    “Yes. Where is she?”
    “As far as I know, she’s under arrest for suspected terrorism, conspiracy to commit murder, being an accomplice in the destruction of government property, illegal information search, and probably a variety of other things.” My free hand began roaming Martini’s body. He started the low growl that always sounded like a big cat purring to me. I loved that sound, and I liked to do things to make it happen and keep it going.
    “Why did you do that?”
    “Babe, you did that. The minute you decided to go Freak of the Year on me over Brian? You did that, and you pulled her into it. By the way, there’s a warrant out for your arrest, for most of the same charges, only yours are at a higher level.” My mouth felt compelled to follow my hand, so I went with it.
    “What are you doing with him?” Her voice was taut.
    “You mean, what am I doing right now? I’m with my actual boyfriend right now. I have no idea what Brian’s doing at the exact moment, but I’m pretty sure he’s not having the same level of fun we are. By the way, sick as it sounds, he was sort of flattered over your lunacy. Not to the point where he wants to cuddle, but, hey, maybe he’ll be willing to wait for you.” I trailed my tongue down Martini’s chest and stomach, following what my friends and I had always called the Happy Trail. It certainly always made Martini happy.
    “Wait for me for what?”
    “To get out of prison.” I was nuzzling my favorite thing in the world and really didn’t want to talk much longer. “Serene, is this a ‘leave town or else’ call, an ‘I’m going to try to kill you again for no sane reason’ call, or a ‘remember we meet at dawn’ call? Kind of busy, so let’s cut to the chase.” My tongue really enjoyed tormenting Martini. At least, I always told him it was my tongue’s fault. His purr was on full and heading toward the point where I was going to make him moan the way he normally made me.
    “I don’t want you to hurt Helen. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
    I found myself wishing Serene talked in longer sentences. “Mmmm . . . actually, she has. You might have thought this through a little better, but you didn’t, and she’s going down for it.” So was I.
    “Where is she? Where’s Helen?”
    Martini’s hands were clutching the bed, and I really wasn’t interested in talking. But I forced myself to pause again. I did have a hand free, after all. “I have no idea. The Feds took her away. Guantanamo, maybe. No clue. Oh, and should you manage to kill me, Brian, or anyone else with us, not to mention some innocent person along the way? You’ll never see Helen again. You have nowhere to go. The entire A-C community is looking for you—things are really tense right now, and you’ve made them worse. You can try hiding with humans, but you know, you’re going to run into problems there somewhere.”
    The positive thing about having to talk to Serene while my hand was around Martini was that she really threw off my calm, and my hand was clenched and moving furiously. He enjoyed it, if his thrusts and groans were any indication, but I preferred to be a more active participant.
    “I didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand.” Serene’s voice was low, and for the first time, she sounded sane.
    “Look, hold that thought, keep the sanity right there in front of you, and stay up. I’ll call you back, promise.” I hung up and put my mouth to far better use than talking to the poster girl for the stalkerazzi.
    Martini’s head was back, his body thrusts wild, while he groaned and panted and gasped my name. I loved doing this to him—normally I was the one helplessly begging for more. It was nice to turn the tables on him occasionally. And this kind of revenge was incredibly sweet.
    I contemplated holding him on the edge for a long while, but I did have a crazy person to call back, and who knew how long she’d stay on the Good Ship Sanity? On the other hand, this was so much more fun and enjoyable. And he wasn’t begging yet. I stopped worrying about anything else and just concentrated on enjoying what I could do to him and how much he loved it.
    “Please . . . baby, please . . . oh, God, Kitty . . . baby, please .... ”
    Okay, so he was begging now. But was it enough? Should I take pity? Martini groaned loudly, and I knew he was so