Bridgebuilder

No Rest

Alex had been taught a few words in Tsla, enough to get by until someone could find a translator. The usual stuff: yes, no, help, please, food, water. It was all in the primer, which was really just a guide on how not to create a diplomatic incident when you have to deal with the aliens.

The primer didn't mention sort-of-drunken fooling around, or any other type of fooling around for that matter, which was one of those things that could definitely cause a diplomatic incident, so you would think they'd have covered it a little bit.

He assumed he had been doing pretty well so far. Despite his slow pace Carbon seemed to be enjoying it. Alex was reasonably sure he was enjoying it too, though he felt oddly pressured by the fact he had no idea what she would like or expect in this situation, not being human and all.

There would be certain similarities, of course. External body structures were overwhelmingly similar, and that seemed to be working well for him so far. He assumed there were specific things Carbon liked that she wasn't telling him about... She was talking a little bit, but it wasn't in English.

She'd been giving him nothing but positive feedback, via tone and action. That was potentially dangerous, yes, but climbing onto his lap definitely seemed like strong approval. Carbon clutched the front of his jumpsuit, fists balled up over his collarbone and thumped her forehead against his chest with an odd, unwell noise. Without further warning she threw up on him. It was as unbecoming as it was sudden.

Some day, they would look back on this and laugh.

Carbon gave him an apologetic and somewhat drunk look as she pushed him away and mumbled something. He understood 'go' and 'bathroom' and could figure the rest out from there. The room had already started to stink like alcohol and stomach acid as she departed.

Alex sighed, unzipped his jumpsuit and peeled himself out of it, balling it up and using it to soak up the few droplets that hadn't stuck to him immediately. Fortunately, there were no chunks. He tossed it into her cleaner - his was currently unpowered and not actually cleaning - and left her cabin wearing just the standard issue compression briefs.

Carbon had left the door to the bathroom open and was cleaning her face with one of the antibacterial wipes, which seemed like a pretty good idea right now. He leaned in and snagged the package, pulling a few free before setting it back next to her. She looked him over with doleful eyes, "sorry. Not you."

"I know." He smiled and continued on, noting for the first time just how cold it was on the ship. He wiped residue off his chest and went digging through his dresser, grabbing a t-shirt emblazoned with the CPP logo to go with it and then shaking out the other pair of shorts included in the clothing package. If he was in for a penny...

Once again dry, clothed, and clean enough, he found Carbon sitting at the table in the mess looking miserable. He skirted past her and dialed in four bottles of water from the dispenser. Production on something as simple as that was quick, the machine dinging off one every 30 seconds or so. His eyes flickered over to the tablet clipped to the wall between the two dispensers, a red exclamation point flashing in one corner.

Alex pulled it from its cradle and tucked it under his arm, collected the bottles from the dispenser and went to take his usual seat across from Carbon. She still looked forlorn. He set the bottles on the table and slid them over to her. "Water. Drink up."

She looked surprised and overwhelmed. "I cannot, is so much."

"Oh, fine." He grinned and took half of them back, "Still, it's good for you. Dehydration and all."

"Thank you." She smiled faintly and started drinking but still looked forlorn.

"You shouldn't worry about it. Happens to everybody." Well. Maybe not throwing up on people. Definitely having an evening not go how you expected, that was pretty common.