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Clumping through the doorway with less grace than she would have liked, Pirra kicked off her boots wearily and then leaned against the wall with a long, deep whistle.

“That kinda day, huh?” Alexander asked.

Her eyes had drifted closed, but they snapped open and onto him.  “Not worse than any other lately.  You wouldn’t believe the amount of administrative work they’ve got me doing now!”

“Tell me about it,” he replied with a grimace.  “I spent all day having to fill out forms just to propose my latest study.”

“Bureaucracy, the devil we can’t live without,” she sighed.  “But wait, new project?  Is it your rewrite on . . . what are they called again, diddylions?”

“Dandelions!” he replied, grinning.  The word was difficult for a Dessei to pronounce.  “They were once a very common Earth plant, driven to extinction in the ecological collapses.  But yes . . . finally I’m going to reconstruct them!”

“Oh, that’s great!  I know you’ve been wanting to get started on that for years!”

“This time, the academy assures me, they’re going to sponsor me.”  He took a deep breath.  “I just still have to wade through the paperwork.”

“Good luck.  It’s certainly more useful than the paperwork I have to fill out,” she replied with good-cheered grumbling.

“And speaking of that . . .” Alexander went on.  “How’s this attempted murder case going . . . ?”

“Oh, that’s the biggest taker of my time.  We’ve got to go over every inch the man stepped on the ship.  I’ve got a pile of medical reports on his augments and state of mind over the last day to go through . . .”

“I just can’t believe the man thought he could get away with it,” Alexander said.  “What was he thinking?”

“I have no idea.  When we brought him in he yelled something about the ship being outside of anyone’s jurisdiction.  And I guess technically there’s a gap of about two hundred meters where that’s true . . .”  She shook her head.  “I just can’t believe anyone would think there wasn’t legal precedent for this.  It was a Union shuttle, so he’s fully in our jurisdiction.”

Alexander listened carefully – he had always been a good listener, she thought, and when she was finished he gestured her towards the main room.

“Well, you can leave that all at the door.  Come on, I’ve got dinner ready,” he said, waving her to follow.  “I made your favorite – streakfish with guava.”

“Oh, you’re the best husband,” she said playfully, running up behind him and hugging his head.  She pecked the closest thing she could manage to a kiss onto the back of it, making him laugh.

Sitting down, he pushed a plate towards her.

It even looked like he’d cooked it well – and he definitely had made it, as the only other beings on the ship that could cook it at all were the AI chefs.  And despite her fiddling with the preferences, on this particular dish they never did it justice.

“So, did you decide on the last officer to fill the slot on your team?” he asked.

Pirra tore her eyes off the streakfish.  “No,” she said quickly.  “I’m still weighing my options.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised.  “It’s been awhile . . . is the choice that hard?”

Taking a fork, she jabbed at the streakfish distractedly.  “Yes and no,” she replied.  “I’ve got a candidate, but I’m unsure about him.”

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Kessissiin,” she replied shortly.

Alexander didn’t reply immediately, frowning and looking down at his own food.  He was not eating streakfish, but an Earth fish that was actually edible to him.

She now poked at the gauva – which was not true Earth guava, merely a very clever genetic recreation palatable to Dessei.

Sighing, she stabbed the fruit, then tilted her head back, opening her mouth.

Under the area that a human might call a chin, near where her head met her neck, the throat pouch opened wide, its teeth downward pointing.

Dropping the guave in whole, she closed it, her narrow throat stretching visibly as it went down.

Alexander had long gotten used to the sight of her kind’s way of eating, though many humans were quite alarmed to see a wide open maw whenever they ate.  Some even though the singer on their face was how they ingested!  They’d starve as a species if that was the case.

In a moment she’d swallow her streakfish down whole as well, which would be quite a bit more dramatic a sight.

“I just am not sure if-” she began, picking back up the conversation – only to be interrupted as a request for entry came from the front door.

She jumped slightly, as if caught doing something wrong, but then stood before Alexander could.

“I’ll get it,” she said, and hurried off to the door.

Her system told her that it was Cassandra Caraval, and she hesitated before answering it, watching the woman on the external camera.

The woman was standing there patiently, looking slightly nervous but still smiling pleasantly.

Nothing about it was suspicious, but Pirra still felt off about her.

Alexander must have noticed her hesitation in actually opening the door, as she heard him rise in the other room and start walking her way.

She opened the door.

“Hello,” Cassandra said pleasantly.  “I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“We were eating dinner,” Pirra said, trying to not sound defensive.  Though Dessei were usually defensive around meal-time, in ancient times feeling vulnerable both during and after.

“I apologize . . .”

Alexander walked up.  “Oh, Cass, what’s up?” he asked happily, smiling brightly.

Pirra was happy to let him butt in.  She moved to the side, feeling a slight bit of guilt at her demeanor, but her unease with the woman’s return was hard to hide.

“I did not mean to intrude, I only wanted to extend an invitation,” she said.  “Iago and I were hoping you’d join us for dinner tomorrow night.”

Pirra said nothing.  But Alexander was prepared.

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” he said.  “Though you know that Dessei have some unique eating habits compared to humans, right?”

“Yes, I know,” she said.  “And of course Iago and Elliot know,” she added.  Her eyes went to Pirra.

“Yes, we’ll be happy to come,” Pirra said, forcing a cheerful demeanor.

“Great, I am so pleased,” Cassandra said, nearly gushing with relief.  “I wasn’t sure if . . .  Ah, well, it’s all well.”

“He’s my close friend, and you were always a friend as well,” Alexander said.  “Would 1800 be good?”

“That would be perfect.  Don’t worry about bringing anything, we’ll be sure to have everything Pirra could want!”

She left, and Alexander closed the door, arching one eyebrow to Pirra.

“Don’t say anything,” she said.  “I accepted, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t say anything about it,” he replied, putting his hands up.  “I know it’s hard for you to accept that she’s back, but . . .”  He trailed off, lost in his head for a moment.  Lines on his face went deeper.  “I’m just really glad for Iago.  He’s my best friend and he wouldn’t even talk to me for weeks – so if he’s doing better, I’m only thankful for that.”

At least she could agree with that.  Iago had been a good friend to her, as well.

She went back to the living room, though Alexander lingered in the hall.

As delicious as the streakfish looked, she wasn’t sure she could eat it all now.  She felt too flustered.

Taking a knife, she slit it in half, and swallowed that as Alexander came back in.

“Saving room, huh?” he said pleasantly.

“Yeah.  I didn’t want the rest of my evening to be just sitting around digesting.”

“Oh, so did you have some plans?” he asked, a grin slipping onto his face.

She looked back at him, her crest showing her own amusement.  “I’m sure we can think of something to do . . .”

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