Alien Tango

parents had to pack for their mysterious trip everyone knew the details of other than me. I drove us back to Caliente Base while Martini lounged in the passenger seat and refused to tell me anything. I was fairly sure he liked me losing my mind. He had to move the seat back as far as it would go, but he claimed to love my car anyway. Which was a good thing, since I wasn’t giving it up. Ever.
    The gate transfer back to the Science Center was better because I could look at Martini until my stomach forced me to close my eyes, and he held my hand so I could squeeze his as hard as I needed to.
    No amount of whining, begging, or cajoling worked, so after several hours of mind-blowing sex, we finally went to sleep. A-Cs had incredibly fast healing and regenerative powers, which fact Martini reminded me of on a happily regular basis.
    My first day as a licensed or close-enough-for-A-C-work pilot was dull. Nothing much was going on at all, on a worldwide basis. A couple of superbeings, but they manifested in rural parts of California and France and were dealt with quickly, no Head of Anything required.
    I wasn’t used to Alpha Team having absolutely nothing to do. It made me feel jumpy.
    “Baby, relax,” Martini said for the tenth time as we and the rest of Alpha Team wandered around the Control Center at Home Base, just because we’d already toured all of the “action” parts of the Science Center where no action was happening. “We’re allowed quiet days.” He looked and sounded as relaxed as if we were on vacation.
    This made me more tense. The rest of the team was wandering away from us, presumably because my tension was ruining their Zen or something. “Calm before the storm. We need to be ready.”
    He sighed. “No reason to. We get ready in seconds. We don’t need to be on edge.” He stopped walking and moved me so I was in front of him. Then he started to massage my shoulders. “You’re unbelievably worried. Why?”
    I was about to answer when Freddie Mercury started singing. I dug through my purse while Martini growled. I chose cowardice as the better part of valor and moved away. Martini’s expression said he’d lost that relaxed feeling and was indeed instantly ready—to pound Chuckie into pulp. I decided they really didn’t need to meet any time soon.
    “Hi,” I said as quietly as I could without sounding like I was trying to talk softly. “What’s up?”
    “Are you okay?” Chuckie sounded worried and freaked.
    “Yes, why?”
    “There’s some . . . weird stuff on the news.” He sounded vague, like he wanted to tell me something but couldn’t.
    “There’s always weird stuff on the news.” There was. And Chuckie had made weird stuff his hobby since before I’d ever met him. “Is there something weirder than normal on the news?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can you tell me what it is, or are we playing a game and I just don’t know it?”
    He made an exasperated sound. “Just be careful, okay?” “I’m always careful.”
    Chuckie snorted so loudly I figured Martini could hear him. “You’re never careful that I’ve ever seen.”
    I couldn’t argue this—he did know me very well. “Fine. I’ll be careful. What, exactly, should I be careful of?”
    “Everything and everyone.”
    “Oh. Business as usual.”
    “It should be, yeah.”
    “You worry me, Chuckie.”
    “Feeling’s mutual, Kitty. I ...,” his voice softened, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
    “I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.” I tried to figure out what I could tell him that would ease his concerns, even just a little. “I’m training in kung fu again.”
    “Oh, good. I feel much better.”
    “Sarcasm is an ugly trait.”
    “Yeah? As far as I know, you love it.” This, sadly, was true. He sighed. “Just watch out, and really don’t take anything, anything at all, for granted.”
    “Okay, I’ll be as suspicious of things as it’s possible for me to be.”
    “I’d prefer it if you were as suspicious of things as it’s possible for me to be.”
    “Ah, but you’re the Conspiracy King, and I your mere lowly subject.”
    He laughed. “Never lowly. Never mere, either.”
    “Well, that’s good to know.” Martini caught my eye. He was still glaring. “I need to go.”
    “Okay. Kitty, remember—if you get into something you can’t handle, call me.”
    “Will do, I promise.”
    We hung up, and I headed back to Martini. “How was your private chat with Mr. My