Alien Tango

you’re not up to memory alterations right now?” Chuckie and Martini were eyeing each other.
    “I’m up to whatever I need to be, Reynolds,” Martini said, eyes narrowed.
    “No insult intended. I’m aware of the . . . ordeal you’ve been through. And I’d like someone to suggest an alternative scenario to Kitty playing Speed Racer through the Arizona desert in a stolen car. Take your time.”
    Martini glared at me. “ This is Mr. My Best Friend? This is who proposed to you tonight?” He sounded furious.
    I backed up against Reader. “Um. . . . ”
    “Yeah,” Chuckie said. “She said she’d think about it. Means no.”
    “Um.... ”
    Chuckie looked at me. “Well, it means no if the other guy runs over a hundred miles on foot in time to save you from the vicious sociopath.” He looked over at the dead bodies and then back to me. “And then tosses a moving car, rips it apart with his bare hands, wraps a three-inch diameter lead pipe around said sociopath’s throat, and proceeds to turn said sociopath’s head into pulp. Otherwise, it might have meant maybe.”
    “Stay away from her,” Martini snarled.
    Chuckie got up into Martini’s face. “You wish. I’ll be at the wedding. I’ll be watching. Screw up again, and I’ll make sure you pay for it.” He turned away, came over to me, took my arm, and led me away from the others. I looked back—Martini was glaring at us.
    “Chuckie, this is probably a really bad idea.”
    “He’s in control. The drug replicates, as your friend said. However, the counter for the drug is adrenaline.” He gave a short laugh. “Martini injected himself with enough adrenaline to kill a horse. It gave him the super strength you saw, tripled or more his regular stamina, and provided faster and stronger regeneration. It won’t last. After the first few hours’ worth of him acting like the Hulk, the adrenaline will burn out the rest of the drug.”
    “How do you know that?”
    He shrugged. “You told me to help him. I called in some favors and put some Earth scientists who can actually out-think the A-Cs on this. Most of the work had been done, so it was fast.”
    “Did you tell Jeff?”
    Chuckie shook his head. “No. He’d already shot in the adrenaline and was after you before we’d figured it out.”
    “Then how did he know?”
    “I assume he didn’t.” Chuckie stroked my face. “He did what I would have if I’d been able to, what any man would, if he loved you enough. He took a dangerous risk to have the hope of getting to you in time. It worked.” He gave me a bittersweet smile. “You’re alive, and you chose him. I break even.”
    “I would have said yes seven months ago.” Or, probably, any time between Vegas and Martini.
    “But you didn’t say yes in Vegas.”
    “You weren’t joking then?” Horror danced in my mind, laughing at me, but I tried to keep it out of my voice. Wasn’t sure I succeeded.
    “No. Getting married by an Elvis impersonator seemed like something right to do at the time.”
    “I thought you were kidding.” Horror was joined by its best buddy, Guilt. Both of them pointed out that I was a moron.
    “Yeah, I figured you cracking up and suggesting we go visit the white tigers again was sort of a clue.”
    It was truly official—I was the densest girl on this or any other planet, including when told something point blank. He’d asked me to marry him and I’d laughed. Why had he even spoken to me after that? “Oh, God, Chuckie, please tell me you know I wasn’t laughing at you—” My voice was heading to the dog-only register.
    He put his finger to my lips. “Hush. I know. I knew then, too. You’ve never laughed at me, Kitty, or made fun of me, not once since we met. Just one of the many reasons I’ve always loved you.” He shrugged as he took his hand away. “You weren’t ready to think of me romantically then. I realized it. Patience is one of my virtues, after all.” He gave me another sad smile. “Though, right now, I have to admit I see it as something of a curse.”
    “Were you in the C.I.A. then?”
    “No, I joined up afterward. Your mother recruited me.”
    “My mother ?” I wondered if I was the only person I knew whom Mom hadn’t helped land a job. Probably.
    Chuckie shrugged. “She wanted someone there she could trust.”
    Something registered. “Mom knew you’d proposed in Vegas?”
    “Knew, told me she’d hoped you’d say yes, but when you didn’t, decided to, and I quote, let