Month 4, Day 30
“Isn’t it the cutest thing?” Abdulla asked her companions. Smitty approached them - Abdulla, Colleen and Takor - as they fussed over something one of them held. He couldn’t see what it was.
“Especially in the green outfit I made,” Colleen agreed. “I couldn’t have picked a better color.” She made ‘cootchey coo’ noises at the item, which Takor held, evidently.
“Thank you,” Takor told the ladies. “I am pleased with the results.”
Smitty reached the small group, and got a look at the focus of their attention - a small Scisson baby dressed in a pale green outfit and cap. “How did that happen?” he blurted out.
Takor looked up and responded. “The process is similar to that of your race. Or so I’ve been told.”
“It’s a fine specimen.” Abdulla let the tiny scisson tail wrap around her finger. “Like its parent.”
Uncomfortable in such unprecedented circumstances, Smitty tried to return to something more familiar. “We’d best get started. Are you ready for your test, Colleen?”
“Unnecessary,” Takor stated.
“She hasn’t passed probation yet,” Smitty reminded him.
“She has passed my test,” the alien returned.
Before he could snap that Takor was not in charge of communications, Abdulla exclaimed, “Oh, look! Now you can see its hair!”
Smitty had never heard of a Scisson having hair, so the comment made him take another look. The baby lizard’s claw had gotten caught in the crocheted hat and pulled it off, revealing that a halo of bright red curls covered its head.
Smitty sat bolt upright, breathing hard and sweating. No! It’s not possible. Humans and Scissons can’t- He took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down. It’s just the juxtaposition of tonight’s events; of finding Colleen is making a baby outfit right after Takor became aroused. I can understand my being aroused; just the sight of her makes my blood boil. But Takor isn’t human. Her fantastic curves don’t mean a thing to him. Or shouldn’t.
Dismissing the dream, and the thoughts that he felt explained it, he lay back down, rolled to face the bulkhead. She’s probably over there, spending the night with MacGreg. He frowned in the darkness. No, she’s with Bugalu. I saw her go into his quarters. He raised his head to punch his pillow and restlessly turned over, so his back was to the bulkhead. I’m an idiot. She’s on duty by now.
He was awakened by his bedroom door opening and the corridor light shining in. “What is it?” he asked, and opened sleep-blurred eyes to see a red uniform in the doorway. “Is there an emergency?”
She stepped forward, letting the door close. The last of the intruding light glinted among bright red curls. “I need some R&R.” He heard her uniform fall to the floor.
“I... can’t,” he managed to choke out.
“Bet you could,” she returned and started to lower herself into his bed.
Smitty woke again, to find his arms had lifted to welcome someone who wasn’t there. He scrubbed at his face and sat up. Okay, that does it. I’m not even going to try for any more sleep tonight.
He tossed his covers aside and sat on the side of his bed. I’ve read all my magazines. Practically memorized all my manuals. So what am I going to do? Standing, he pulled clothes from his closet and put them on blindly, not caring what they were.
Who in the old Academy gang do I owe a letter to? Stinky, for one. Oh, who cares if I owe them a letter or they owe me? At least writing letters is something to do.