Alien Tango

always work.”
    He snorted. “Right.”
    We went to the appropriate gate and caught up with the others. The looks on their faces were priceless. I knew Martini was going to make me pay for them later.
    “Wow, glad you two think of everything,” Reader said with a huge grin.
    “You trying to tell us something?” Christopher asked.
    “I went already,” Tim added.
    Gower shook his head. “And, somehow, you’ve been in charge of all Field operations for almost ten years.”
    “You never want to run out,” I reminded them.
    “I hate each and every one of you,” Martini said. “Can we get going?”
    “Gee,” Kevin said from behind us, “I didn’t think my coming along would necessitate the need for extra supplies.”
    “Everyone’s a comedian,” Martini muttered.
    “You’re coming with us?” I wasn’t disappointed, and I could see Reader wasn’t either.
    He nodded. “The situation’s under control here, but from what Paul told me, I think it’ll be a help if I go along for the next event. If that’s okay with you,” he said to Martini.
    “Sure,” Martini sighed. “The more the merrier.” He tossed the box to Tim, who just managed to catch it. “Oh, I just remembered—you report to me.”
    “Technically,” Tim said, voice muffled by the box, “I report to Kitty.”
    “In a field situation,” I recited from memory, “we all report to Jeff.” I’d never followed this particular rule, but I was willing to pretend, especially since I knew it was taking effort for Martini to remain genial toward Kevin for a variety of reasons, my finding Kevin a hunk and a half being only one of them.
    Our gray, mostly unmarked jet was docked and ready. Alicia was with us to say good-bye, and she escorted us down the ramp. I saw her slip a piece of paper into Tim’s inner jacket pocket. Then he moved the box, and I couldn’t see their faces. However, Alicia was blushing and looking really girlish as we dragged Tim onto the plane. She waved to us, and then the door closed, and we were back in action.
    Reader and Tim were handling the flying and navigation, respectively, so the rest of us got to relax. The plane was the same one I’d ridden in the first day I’d discovered we had real live aliens on the planet. It was designed with comfort in mind—the seats were wide and cushy, and there was enough leg room so Martini could stretch out without issue.
    The plane also had a nice galley and a bedroom that doubled as a medical bay. As much as I wanted to earn Mile High Miles with Martini, I didn’t want to do it with everyone else inside the cabin. Even if I could manage to make love to him silently—so far a feat never accomplished—they’d still know. I felt it might affect my performance, so instead of dragging him to the back, I settled in the seat next to him. The others spread out behind us, one to a set of two seats.
    The seats reclined, so as soon as we were up in the air, Christopher handed out full-sized pillows and blankets, and everyone leaned back. It was after midnight—the snores were immediate. I looked around—Kevin was following suit and looked asleep.
    I moved the armrest between me and Martini up and snuggled next to him. He put his arm around me and tucked the blanket. My hand strayed below his belt. He caught it in his, brought it up to his lips and kissed my fingers. “Bad girl,” he murmured, with a very cat-satisfied look on his face.
    “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
    He put my hand onto his shoulder, then slid his finger under my chin and tilted my head. He kissed me deeply, then cuddled me closer. “Sleep time.”
    “Okay.” I leaned against his chest, and dozed off.
    Some turbulence woke me up. It seemed like nothing, but I wasn’t sleepy any more. Martini’s breathing was rhythmical. I closed my eyes. Nothing. And if I wasn’t sleepy, being cuddled next to Martini didn’t make me tired—it made me horny.
    I moved slowly out of his embrace, tucked the blankets around him, and stroked his hair. He heaved a contented sigh. I kissed his forehead and moved into the aisle. Everyone was snoozing. I resisted the impulse to tuck the blanket around Christopher—there was never going to be a good reason to put either one of us into a situation that could be remotely taken for romantic. Martini had been very clear—I’d made my one and only allowable romantic mistake already. If I made another one, Martini was out of my life forever.
    The mere thought of