Out in the Black Ch. 07

"I'm not hurt, just pissed. Kells is out there thinking I leaked the video as some sort of revenge or something."

"Shit." He dropped his face into his hands. "I didn't think - " Cap gave a muffled sigh and looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "I knew you didn't. You knew you didn't. Never thought there'd be someone else out there who'd think you did. I'm so, so sorry." He wiped at his cheeks and looked down at his fingers, damp from his tears. "What the fuck? Where did that come from?"

"You're drunk." I considered the man in front of me. He had come out with us once or twice in the past couple of quarters since the Marzipan Dream had launched, but he'd nursed a drink or two for the entire evening. I'd never seen him let go like this and could understand why he didn't make a habit of it with his crew. Hard to respect a captain that could start crying and not even know he was doing it.

"Dunno why I'm crying. Iss stupid." He was slurring his mumbles. It was beyond time to cut him off.

"Come on, let's get you into bed." I helped the captain stand and started to unfasten his belt. His arms came around my neck and he aimed a sloppy kiss at my mouth. It wasn't too far off the mark and I started kissing him back, a part of me realizing I wasn't exactly sober myself. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to go for it, to give his ass some overdue punishment and dump off some of this anger.

Disgusted with myself, I pushed him back and got his jumpsuit unfastened enough that it slid down his legs and tangled around his calves. He was still clinging to my neck, so we shuffle-stepped over to the bed. It took more effort than it should have to get him to sit and pry myself loose from his grip so I could remove his magboots and slide his jumpsuit the rest of the way off. Eventually, he was lying in his bunk and I tucked the top sheet around him.

"Don't go," he said, catching my arm as I moved away. "Stay. Please." Bloodshot blue eyes pleaded with me.

"Okay," I agreed with a sigh. "Okay. Just let me clean up a bit first." He stared at me a bit longer, as if judging my honesty, then let go. Looking around the room, it was clear no spacer lived here. To those of us who were born and raised on ships and stations, keeping our environment tidy was as natural as breathing. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept you breathing. Arti-grav generators had gotten pretty sophisticated over the years, but anyone who works with machines will tell you they work great until they don't. Best to keep your area free of potential projectiles just in case.

I grabbed the bottle of bourbon - now half empty - and glasses. The coffee mug had a magnetized bottom, so I left that where it sat. I could feel the captain's eyes following me as I rinsed the glasses. It made me twitchy, so I started talking.

"Few cycles back, there was this guy tried to join up on the merc ship," I started, trying for my usual shithead cockiness and grinning at the captain as I bent to stow the glassware in the cabinet under his head. "First time in space. He was real green, you know? Still had fresh air in his lungs." I went around the room as I talked, putting stuff away and making sure doors were latched. "The ship's Gunny was a great guy, fucking awesome at his job, but not the best with more abstract stuff. So I'm sitting there, waiting to take the new guy down to the engine room, show him around, and Gunny's trying to get him in the system.

"The guy - Tiller was his name, perfect for a guy from Earth - was answering along just fine. Then Gunny comes to his age and Tiller says '18.'" I had tossed Cap's jumpsuit in his wardrobe, leaving his magboots just outside. Feeling oddly self-conscious, I stripped down to my skivvies and did the same with mine before latching the door. "Now Gunny, he was the type that kind of muttered under his breath whatever he was typing into his machine."

I paused in the retelling to climb over Cap and assume my usual position against the bulkhead. Lying on my back, one hand tucked behind my head, I slid the other under him as he rolled to curl up against my side, head pillowed on my shoulder. "So," I continued, "he mumbles '18 cycles' as he taps away and the kid goes 'cycles? Years. I'm 18 years old.'"

"Oh no," the captain said quietly, seeing where this was going. As irritated as I was with Matt, a part of me marveled at our easy comfort. There hadn't been any jostling or awkward fumbling as we got into position; trial and error over the past days had us pretty well knowing how we fit. His hand rested on my stomach, the thumb moving just slightly back and forth. I ran my fingertips along his upper arm from shoulder to elbow and back as I talked.

"Yeah, so somehow this guy had gotten off-planet without understanding that we measure time different out here. So he and Gunny go back and forth explaining it to each other. The kid goes through the seconds, minutes, hours, and days with Gunny nodding along, but then says 'and there are seven days in a week.' Gunny jerks back and goes 'what the fuck is a week?' And the way he said the word, like it was something he'd scraped off his shoe, damn near killed me. The new guy is getting fairly frustrated by now and asks how we do it in the black. Gunny takes the same approach, starting with seconds, and then lays it out: 'There are ten days in a tenday, ten tendays in a quarter, and four quarters in a cycle.'"

"Tenday always cracked me up," the captain said, his breath warm on my neck. The dentites were already doing their work, the smell of bourbon noticeably less than just a few minutes before.

"Yeah, we spacers are a pretty literal bunch." Cap huffed a laugh and I found myself smiling in response. "Anyway, Gunny turns to me and throws up his hands. I've been doing my damnedest not to laugh this whole time and that about undoes me, but I manage to keep it together and do the math. Turns out the poor kid was over a cycle and a half too young to join up. Man, that face - never seen anyone look so disappointed. The captain didn't have many rules, but the ones he had were not negotiable, and he didn't allow families or apprentices."

"Poor Tiller. What did he do?" The captain's head moved as I shrugged.

"We were docked at Luna at the time, so Gunny just sent him back out the door with instructions to find himself a shuttle back to Earth."

"Wonder if he ever found his ship," Cap said, sounding like he was quickly losing the battle against sleep. We were quiet for a time and I was sure he'd nodded off when he spoke up again. "Thank you, Rusty. For staying."

"Of course." I kissed the top of his head and hugged him to my side. Anger had given way to sadness. Our captain felt so trapped he'd resorted to chewing his own leg off, so to speak, to get free. And none of us had realized. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Mmkay. Love you." Fuck. Me. Panic took over, driving everything else out, and I needed all my willpower to keep from dumping Cap on his ass and bolting. My mind raced, trying and rejecting other combinations of words, sure I'd misheard. Even as that was happening, another part of me watched and knew it was a wasted effort. The man had spoken softly, clearly drifting off, but the words were clear. Shit. Shit shit shit.

This was the time when I'd usually run. Well, that's not true: I never let it get to this point. But I'd always imagined this as that time. Where could I go? We were millions of klicks from anywhere and this was my captain. Again, I cursed myself for getting involved. No ass, no matter how hot, was worth this kind of trouble. I didn't do feelings and I sure as hell didn't do love. Fuck me.