An Encounter at Some Point

Love and Starships: Chapter 12 (Warning: Adult Situations Ahead)

Francis plopped down her heavily-laden tray loudly on the table. Trisha, Rundle, and Jundle looked up at her in surprise as she took a seat next to the strawberry blond. “Well, she comes out of hiding at last.” Rundle announced loudly through his mouthful of half chewed something or other.

“Hello, Francis.” Jundle spoke up after pausing the swallow the food of her own.

“I hope the synthesized food didn’t kill all your taste buds.” Trisha commented.

Francis cut through the double layer of pancakes coated in the thick Molean syrup. “Believe me,” She began shoving the dense breakfast food into her mouth. “As a big of a detour it is to get here in the mornings, it’s utterly relaxing compared to going back and forth to the medbay and the shuttle hangar and the briefing room, and…”

“Okay, Frannie.  We’re glad to see you up and about.” Trisha stopped her. “At least your health checks out, right?”

Francis sponged a puddle of syrup up with the mass of dough on her fork before bringing it up to her face to examine it. “Ask me again after I finish this.” She announced, shoving the food into her mouth.

“It’s that good, is it?” Jundle asked. “I told you we should try some earth food some time, Rundle.”

“It all looks like carbohydrates.” Her brother responded. “Bread is carbs, there’s boiled carbs with tomato sauce, Earth fruit is just carbs and sugar, and don’t even mention that ‘cake’ stuff. I would run out of energy in an hour at work.”

Trisha looked down at the Biloban’s tray, revealing the remnants of eggs and some strange sausage. “We have plenty of protein in our earth diets, but carbs and stuff… that’s what we call comfort food.”

Rundle looked to Trisha and then over to Francis, who had been ignoring the conversation in favor of her own breakfast. “I guess I can see why.”

Francis felt her stomach reaching the point of no return halfway through the second pancake. She finally stopped to take a breath and sit back in her chair while the others had begun to clean up. “You finally gonna’ be free later, Francis?” Trisha asked.

Francis took a sip of water before responding. “No, I have a report to work on.”

“Too bad.” The strawberry blond shrugged. “Hey, just don’t eat too much that you regret it.”

Francis took a deep breath and peered down at her plate one last time as her friends departed the table.

Despite a bit of bloating, Francis finished her shift with little that would be considered out of the ordinary. She was still sated from her late lunch, which was taken after the long holdover from her breakfast. She returned to her room and pulled out her work tablet to begin work on her long overdue report of the mission off the ship.

With the tablet laid beside her, she had found a comfortable spot on top of her covers to dictate to the device the words she wanted to include. Every once in a while, she would turn her head to double check it was taking her words as expected.

Francis found her mind trailing, ending up in clumps of repeated phrases and nonsense that the software had somehow put into text form. She grabbed the device and sat up to begin going back through the messy phrases that she herself had uttered. It wasn’t too long before her pose, hunched over atop the bed, began to take its toll on her back. She slid down to the ground and sat up against the side of the bed, going back and forth between recording more words, and fixing them manually.

How does anyone even do this? She sat up and noisily cracked her back, continuing to stare at the screen with dreary eyes. I need a desk, like, now.

Francis sat the device down on the floor and scooter herself to the communication’s window. I’ll have to go to the quartermaster’s. There’s no way I can get a desk up here by myself though… Trisha hates manual labor, and I doubt she would even make it half the way. Rundle could make easy work of it, but then Jundle would be along, and probably want to get dessert in the dining hall.

Francis pondered for a moment longer, before typing in the familiar room code. The signal made contact, and the familiar Alien popped on the screen. “Hi, Skee.” She greeted.

“Hello, Francis.”

“I’m not interrupting you, am I? Like, if you were working on your report for the Captain?”

Skee shook his head. “No, I finished that yesterday.”

“Ah, I see.” Francis said, gritting her teeth. “I wanted to ask you if you could help me get something from the quartermaster.”

“I have nothing else I need to attend to.” Skee shrugged. “Would you like me to accompany you there?”

Francis rolled her eyes and glared into the screen. “I’ve been there, thanks. Had to pick up some special equipment for my department.”

“I see.” The yellow alien nodded. “If I leave now, I will be there sooner than you I believe, so I will happily wait.”

“Thanks, Skee.” Francis sighed. “See you there.”

The quartermaster was located between two storage rooms one deck below Recreation Deck B. Francis stepped out of the lift and into the dim hallway. Skee was already at the end of the corridor, standing by the door. Her perked up as Francis came his way.
“Good evening, Francis.”

“Evening, Skee.” Francis smiled at him. “Thanks for coming up here.”

“I was not busy at all.” Skee smiled back and waived Francis past him towards the door. It opened as she stepped near.

The ceiling lights began to glow as they entered. Inside were three large synthesizer bays, each with a sliding track for the moleculizer. The room also held several shelves with spare objects, likely ordered in error, as well as a recycler that could likely fit a whole piece of furniture.

In front of each synthesizer was a wide display for the user to enter the specifications for the item they wanted. “What is it you want, Francis?” Skee asked.

“A desk.” She declared, tapping the button labeled ‘crew quarters.’ “Interesting, they have selections for pieces of furniture that are designed to match the colors schemes depending on the deck your room’s on.”

“I see.” Skee said, looking over Francis’s shoulder.

“At the academy, we had these tiny cramped apartments. It was always interesting trying to fit everything into the little space; you know, some books, a TV shoved up against the wall. I like this one, don’t you?” She had finally decided on a desk, a wooden one with a red finish just tall enough to fit the room’s chair under.

“It is nice.” Skee noted. “Was your… apartment, then, just for you alone?”

“Yup, four walls just for me.” Francis explained as the synthesizer got to work.

“It sounds like many possessions just for yourself.” Skee said slowly. “My people are used to living in groups with almost everything being shared.”

Francis turned to the alien with her eyebrows raised in guilt. “Oh, well… when I got assigned to a starship, a lot got recycled or given away. Some went back to my parent’s place. Sentimental stuff.”

The clear plastic door to the machine opened up, offering up Francis’s desk inside. The bay slid out, allowing for one person to grab at each side.
“Shall we?” Francis asked, slowly making her way to the end.

Skee made his way backwards down the hallway, turning his head back and forth to keep himself centered. Francis kept a watch for people around, some of which who had given them second glances. As the lift approached ahead, Francis tilted her head to examine how the desk might fit.

“Looks like,” She huffed. “We’ll have to turn it on it’s end.”

Skee shoved his elbow into the lift controls, opening the door for them. He slowly hunched down to place the end of the desk on the floor of the lift, while Francis shoved her end into the air. The top edge of the desk made it through the door with barely a few centimeters to spare.

“The senior officers have such nice furniture in their rooms.” Francis noted as the doors closed. “I wonder how they get all that stuff in there so easily.”

“I believe they come aboard weeks before we do.” Skee conjured. “I think they may also have a freight elevator. Whom of the senior crew did you visit, Francis?”

Francis feigned interest in the artificial wood grains of the desk bottom. “Oh, it’s a long story.”

The lift stopped at her floor, and she quickly scrambled to begin pulling the piece of furniture back outside. After a short march through the hallways, they stopped before Francis’s room. She open it, and with one last push, the desk had made it into the room.
Francis slumped down on the floor and leaned back against her bed. “I want to thank you again, Skee.”

“It was no problem, Francis.” The alien said as he began to step towards the door.

“Don’t go yet.” Francis blurted out, sitting up to grab at Skee’s wrist.

Skee looked down at her for a moment, before slowly sitting down beside her. “There is a sudden distress in your voice.” He noted, staring deeply into her eyes.

Francis turned away, her face becoming red. “I just… I’m sorry if making you drink that tea the other night caused you any problems.”

Skee rolled his head around in though for a moment. “Ah, the Earl Gray. I don’t remember much after drinking it, but the following morning, I awoke very well rested. I felt especially energized during my work shift.”

Francis let out a sigh and allowed herself to turn slowly back to Skee. “I guess that’s okay then, especially not having a hangover or anything.”

“A hangover?” Skee asked.

“Nevermind.” Francis muttered. She looked down at the ground, where Skee had placed his hand to prop himself up. It was slender, but much larger than her own. Without thinking, she placed her palm atop it.

Skee placed his second hand atop it and slowly brought Francis’s hand up in the air. “You commented once that my skin was soft, but yours is not too different.”  He remarked.

Francis attempted to pull her hand away, but found herself held back by his grasp. “It’s not like that, I’m constantly working with them, until they dry out.” She explained, her voice low. She could see Skee looking into her eyes from the corner of her vision. Francis took a deep breath and turned to him, locking eyes. She attempted to stop herself from blinking as she became entranced in his gaze. What am I doing? In the silence, she imagine him leaning in towards her. Her eyes fluttered as she leaned in herself, planting her lips just beside Skee’s mouth for just an instant before recoiling.

The alien slowly grasped at the side of his face. “Did you intentionally leave a residue of saliva on my skin, Francis?” He asked, double checking the tips of his finger.

“I guess it was supposed to be a… kiss, Skee.” Francis grunted, pulling her hand back into her lap.

“I believed that a human kiss was only lip to lip contact. Was I-”

Francis sat up and interrupted Skee’s endless posturing by shoving her mouth onto his, gently slipping her tongue against his lips. Her hand found purchase around the bunch of fabric at the shoulder of his suit. As if automatically, she crept over, moving to straddle her legs over his thighs and pressed her chest to his. As the kiss drew on, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Sometimes… I like when you talk the lot like you do, because I get to watch your lips move.” She said as she finally pulled herself away. Oh god, did I just say that?

Skee propped his hands upon Francis’s hips. “I think I understand.”

“…Good…” Francis wavered, her eyes refusing to stay in one spot upon his face. “Then you know it’s okay to stop talking sometimes as well.”

Skee leaned in and rubbed his nose against Francis’s cheek. “Your face is… much more soft, even than your hands.”

Francis sat back slowly, leaning back on her ankles. “Just to be sure…” She mumbled. “You aren’t just going along with this?”

“I do not know about human romance, but if this is a… shortcut to it, then I would be happy for the experience.”

Francis looked down at her hands that were positioned on her thighs. “But that could mean that you’d be happy doing this with any human female.”

“That is incorrect.” Skee said, placing his hands heavily on Francis’s. “You are… special.”

Francis sighed and moved to grab at the bottom hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up and over her bunch of hair. “You know the right words to say.” She hummed, pulling Skee’s hand up and shoving it under the cup of her bra.

Francis leaned in close and began kissing up Skee’s neck as his fingers began to rub at her nipple. “This part… is soft too.”

“Keep doing that.” Francis muttered in between the movements of her mouth.

His opposite hand felt at her hip, slowly digging into her waistband. In turn, she slowly began to pull at the zipper of his suit, causing the standard issue uniform slump down from his shoulders.

The alien’s chest was a more pale shade of yellow. Francis felt at his tidy pecks and abdominal muscles. Despite the lack of nipples or obvious navel, he felt solidly built.

Skee fiddled at her back to undo the unforgiving clasps of her bra. With a little bit of help from her, she finished taking it off before throwing it to the side. Skee draped one arm around Francis’s back, with the other on her breast as she continued to shove her mouth against his.

Skee slowly forced himself off the ground, gripping Francis under her butt. He pushed himself up on top of the bed. Francis pulled off her pants and jumped up on the bed, straddling Skee’s waist in only her unflattering panties. Skee’s uniform had begun to descend below his belt as she grinded on top of him. As she leaned in from another kiss, Skee pushed away at her unexpectedly. She continued to lean into his body, oblivious.

“Francis.” He said, muffled by her tongue.

“Mhm?” She returned, rubbing her lips across the corner of his mouth.

“Your underwear.” He described.

“You wanna’ take em’ off?” Francis said seductively, bringing guiding his hands down from her chest and hip.

“They’re made out of cotton.” He stressed.

“I know, they’re not that sexy.” She pouted playfully.

“I’m having an allergic reaction. I can feel myself starting to break out.” He declared, carefully pushing Francis off of him and onto the side of the bed.

“Oh, crap.” Francis said, finally realizing.

Skee stoop up and readjusted his clothing, yanking the zipper back up to his neck. “I must run to the medbay and get an antihistamine.”

Francis sat up, covering her bare breasts with her hands. “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry.”

“It is possible that we can… continue…” Skee noted, waiting by the door uncomfortably.

Francis scanned the room where her clothes had been scattered just beside the desk. “Oh hell, I’ve totally forgotten about my report! It’s going to be so late.”

“In that case…” Skee paused, his face blank in though. “Well, this voyage will last an additional 1 year, 8 months, and 23 days. We shall have ample time for this particular lesson, don’t you think?”

Francis felt her boobs jiggle as she began to laugh. “Go, go, get yourself checked out. I’ll call you the next time… I need to go to the quartermaster, okay?”

Skee itched at his stomach before pushing the button to open the door. “I will try my best to be available.”