Nick was careful to clean up before meeting Sana for dinner. We're going to be in a confined space together for hours. If human-stink is unpleasant to her, I should minimize it, he reasoned.

He had eaten with Sana in the mess a few times. He could recall seeing her eat a purple dish, but she didn't seem particularly pleased with it. After wracking his brain for a few minutes, he gave up and asked Petra, who showed him video clips from the mess on previous days. Right, the green goop. She likes the green goop. He paused. What's the green goop called, again?

Oh. I named it "green goop" for the translator. So, hopefully all I have to do is say that.

He picked up two meals of green goop to go—making sure first that it was on the list of foods he could eat safely. At this point, he could have almost anything on board, but it was always good to double-check. In addition to a Goldaskian thing like a square cupcake, he also picked up an apple and the Arrurran desert called kararoo, figuring she would like exotic sweets.

With his hands full, he had Petra ring the "doorbell" once he got to her quarters. When the doctor didn't answer right away, he resisted the temptation to ask Petra what she was doing. I need to learn how Goldaskians feel about privacy, he mused. Sana opened the door most of a minute later.

Nick stared.

The Goldaskian woman had changed out of her uniform. She was wearing a skintight black layer that covered her from high on her neck to her wrists and ankles. Over that, a red layer...floated.

It looked like red fabric caught in a breeze, somehow suspended. It orbited her slowly, a few inches away from the bodysuit, and changed shape constantly. As it moved, it gave glimpses of her body and seemed to be illuminating it at the same time. It swelled over her breasts, accentuating them, then parted down the middle as if being unzipped. The sight was...impressive.

"You're welcome, Nick. Please come in." She backed up, smiling, watching his reaction.

He blinked, and realized that she was literally saying that he was welcome to enter, not accepting his implied gratitude for the view.

"Thank you." He stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind him.

"Set the food on the table. What did you bring me?"

"Green goop, and a few different deserts."

"Oh? That sounds delightful, and very thoughtful, too." She turned and swished her way farther into the cabin, and Nick followed, setting down the food neatly. Sana kept looking between him and her...dress...as it continued to flow. It pinched down to touch her bodysuit at the waist and flared out above and below, exaggerating her hourglass shape. It was mesmerizing.

"Well, you're being very bold," Sana declared, but she was smiling as she said it.

Nick forced his gaze up to her face. "Ah, I'm sorry. I've never seen a dress like that before."

The Goldaskian woman looked puzzled for a moment, then seemed to have a realization. "Oh, you haven't, have you? It's not the kind of thing one usually wears on a warship, and your people don't have this technology, I'm guessing. It's a reactive dress."

"Reactive?"

"It can adjust itself to my mood, to my desires. But, at the moment," she said as she bit her lip, showing her pointed teeth a little, "I have it set to react to your desires."

Holy shit, it's like a mood ring and a lie detector. The red dress parted like a robe and draped over her shoulders like a cape, exposing her fine, black-clad figure. Also an awesome wingman, he added mentally, his mouth going a bit dry.

"It's...amazing," he managed, dragging his gaze back up.

"I'm glad you like it, but it seems to be a bit too distracting for dinner conversation. I'll take it off for now." She gave him a sultry look. "Maybe I'll show you what else it can do later." She glanced down, and the floating red layer gathered and folded, settling itself on her bunk.

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Okay, no escaping it, she's flirting. No idea how far she wants to go with it, but I guess I'll...take her as she comes, so to speak.

Without the hypnotically moving red layer, Sana was "merely" wearing the black figure-hugging layer, showing off every detail of her physique. Good God damn, she's so close to human I could believe she's a cosplayer if I met her in a hotel lobby on Earth. And she's...a hottie, he had to admit. I wonder if that body feels just like a human woman's, too...

"Still too distracting?" she asked.

"No! I'll...manage. I did want to have that conversation we talked about earlier...but we have plenty of time to do everything we want, don't we?"

"Very yes, we do. Did you turn on the heater already?"

"On the food? No, I thought I would wait until we were sitting down." Petra beeped at him. Oh, right, still got to watch it with the "woulda, coulda, shoulda" words.

Sana waved a hand dismissively before he could rephrase. "I understand." She gestured at one of the available chairs and sat on the other. Nick knew that the ship basically produced furniture on demand. His eyes flickered once towards the bed, then set aside the thought for the moment. She's probably testing me to see how much of a gentleman I am.

"So," she began, tapping the food heater, "tell me more about how humans think."

* *

They talked for a long while, eating slowly. Nick got comfortable around Sana in her "space spandex" as he thought of it. She still looked amazing, but the conversation was really interesting. He learned a lot that was definitely not covered in high school econ, but plenty more sailed over his head, even with Sana doing her best. He was just missing too many of the fundamentals.

The Goldaskian enjoyed a few bites of the apple, then offered him the rest. "A bit too beep for me." It took them a while to get "tart" across, but they managed it. Nick took a couple of bites from the other side of the apple, then put it down. It's nice that we have enough food now that we don't have to worry at every single meal about wasting any.

The kararoo was sort of like a strawberry and caramel fondue. It was a small serving and came with its own weird utensil. Sana tried it, and gave a little moan of pleasure. "Oh, that is beep." She rolled her eyes, in frustration with translation, not with bliss. "I will always want more."

"Addictive," Nick taught Petra.

"It is addictive. Here, try it—no, wait. Four minutes. No more, I promise." With that, she was briefly the ship's Doctor again, examining ingredients lists, then nodded only a minute or so later. "It's safe for you. But I really think I want it all for myself," she joked, pulling the dessert towards her.

"That's all right, I got it for you."

"Oh, you're no fun. Shouldn't you demand at least a taste?" She held it out to him, keeping the handle to herself.

"I'll taste what I want," he told her with a grin, and ate a small amount of it while she held it.

"We'll see." She reclaimed the utensil and held it up to her mouth. Nick was momentarily startled, and then intrigued, when she promptly showed off her long, forked tongue, tasting the same spot he had.

"Maybe I will too," she added, once she was able to speak again. They enjoyed a bit more of the desserts, then she drank some water to clear her mouth. She sighed happily.

"So, Nick, what are the human customs for mating?"

He blinked. He wasn't surprised by the question, just its bluntness, though he realized that he shouldn't have been. "Ah, it varies a lot. We have a lot of different cultures."

"What are the customs in your culture? We seem to be beep beep." She sighed. "I like you and you like me. We probably do not need to talk first, but it is better to stop bad surprises early. You are a new kind of alien. It is smart to go slow and talk."

"That makes sense."

"For example, as a first step, my people like to touch mouths together. If it feels very good the right way, we open our mouths and do it more. Sometimes, we bite a little."

"Yes, humans do that too. We 'kiss', and with the mouth open it is 'French kiss.' Biting..." Nick paused, looking at Sana's fangs. "Very small biting, maybe, if the French kiss is very, very good."

"Good. I want to kiss you, Nick. It is good if it does not feel right with you, but it is very good if it does. Do you understand?"

Nick moved his seat so that he could lean closer. "I think so. Let's try it."

They kissed. It was awkward. They pulled apart, then tried it again. It still wasn't good.

"Let's try very slower, Nick. It helps me to remember I like you." Nick nodded and leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers very, very gently. They each took a deep breath through their nose at the same time, and kept going. That's better. As they kissed slowly, it gradually started to feel more natural.

"Better," Sana whispered when they broke apart. "Again, please."

It felt awkward again. They kept trying, and it was still hit-or-miss for a while, but gradually Nick started to get the hang of kissing Sana. He had to stop being cautious of the fangs, for example, and trust her not to bite him painfully. Sana seemed to be working through something in her head as well, but neither of them was interested in stopping.

They kissed for a long while. Then, Sans smiled and put a bit of kararoo in her mouth, and kissed him again. They started French kissing. His hands slid along her back, and she was gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. Slower is better, he reminded himself, experiencing the feel of Sana's forked tongue playing in his mouth. Slower...is...

"Dr. Vickall, Medical Emergency on Deck Six."

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