The E.T. Guy (Office Aliens Book 1)

by V. C. Lancaster

  Lois knew she might well be the only human in the building. She could be the only human in the whole complex. It was past the hour for any human visiting for business to still be here, and while humans weren’t banned from the dorms, it didn’t happen very often that human friends were invited to stay the night.

  This would be a Volin block, if Zir lived here. The different races preferred to be with their own kind, though there was no official segregation. They could speak their own language to their neighbours, and there were no cultural clashes. It also made it easier to design rooms that more closely resembled what they were used to on Teiss. This corridor was dark wood, dimly lit by hidden lights, warm and humid. The corridors were narrower than a human would like them, but taller. Lois could imagine herself inside a tree.

  She wondered what the other races would like. She guessed the Balin would feel more comfortable with a cooler, stone motif. The Balor would want bright colours. The Volon maybe bright lights, high temperatures, and lots of windows?

  Zir lived high up in the building, and the dark wood made Lois feel claustrophobic and out of place. She could hear noises from the other apartments, and was irrationally afraid of someone coming out and seeing her, like Zir was smuggling her in. She supposed it was the fact that they had an as-yet-undocumented Volin minor with them, tucked out of sight.

  Lois had got a few looks on the way in, as they walked through the ramshackle market that pooled around the dorms, but no one had openly objected to her being there. Maybe everyone had just been too busy to care. Teissians who worked during the day had come home, and were socialising with the rest of their kind before bed, buying traditional food, clothing, and anything else an entrepreneur could replicate.

  She told herself that she was there in her capacity as a DETI Intake Officer, helping a Volin child (who they had agreed to call Taz), and following protocol. There were no rules against her being there. Zir had invited her. But she still felt like everyone who saw her assumed she was visiting Zir socially, and that was the only reason they didn’t question it.

  Zir unlocked his door and she followed him in. His apartment inside matched the corridor outside, looking like it had been hollowed out of one big tree. There was a sofa pointing at a screen against one wall, a kitchen space, a book case, a standing lamp. A corridor led off to what she assumed was the bathroom and bedroom. Wooden shutters were over the windows, letting in a little light but not much. Zir turned on a golden overhead light, and Lois noted that everything was in muted, earthy colours. Faded reds, dark browns, a spread of greens.

  Lois turned to Zir, not sure what to do next, and found him watching her. His pupils were focused and steady. He looked like he was waiting for her to say something.

  “It’s a nice apartment,” she struggled out eventually. She was normally never at a loss for words, always professionally welcoming to her intake groups, friendly with her co-workers, and well-rehearsed with her dates. Alone in the home of an alien man who had basically proposed to her though? She didn’t have a protocol for that.

  “Thank you,” Zir replied, and moved further into the apartment. He seemed unsure of where to go first, heading one way then stopping and diverting somewhere else. He clearly decided on the kitchen though, heading there and pulling open the fridge, laying items out on the counter.

  Lois realised she hadn’t had dinner, nor had she eaten any of the snacks from the vending machine. Zir would be hungry too, he should have been home hours ago. She followed him through to the kitchen, hovering by a dining chair.

  “We could get take-out,” she offered. “My treat, to say thanks.”

  Zir paused in his movements as if taking a moment to process what she’d said. “They will not come here. They do not like going through security. I will prepare food. Please sit down,” he explained.

  “Oh, well… do you want help with anything? I can, er…” She cast her eye over the stuff on the counter, realising she had no idea what to do with any of it. “Peel?”

  He passed a morsel under his wing, murmuring something in an indulgent tone, his voice softening. He looked back at her. “I will prepare the food,” he repeated.

  “Alright,” Lois sighed and sat in the chair. She knew when she’d been put in her place, but she couldn’t complain, not when she was a guest in his home and he was cooking dinner for her after she had press-ganged him into looking after an orphan.

  Zir worked silently, and it didn’t take him long to throw together whatever he was making. Lois looked around some more, eventually being drawn over to his shelves. He owned mostly text books. There were English language books, history books, guides to San Diego, and the rest were all IT based. On the bottom shelf of his bookcase in the corner were some classic novels, though they didn’t look as read as the others.

  A thick book with a bright pink title caught her eye from where it lay on the arm of the sofa. 101 Dates in California. She lurched to a stop, turning back to the bookcase as if she hadn’t seen it. Her heart gave an uneasy twist. Was that for her? She snuck a peek over her shoulder at the man working silently in the kitchen, his back straight, his shoulders broad. He scratched his calf with the talon on his ankle. He didn’t seem to have noticed her seeing his book.

  Lois moved to the other end of the room, deciding that for now the best thing to do was ignore it. She’d already turned him down, and not in a way that he might feel inclined to try again.

  She looked for music but didn’t find any. There was something that looked like a rectangular lamp, one designed to throw pretty shapes when it was on, but when she touched it a soundtrack of forest noises started, wind through leaves and birdcalls. She jumped and turned it off, and when she glanced at Zir he was watching her.

  “Sorry,” she said, and he turned away again. After that, she decided to stop prying and sit at the table and be good. She startled as she saw that Taz was out, sitting on the counter top next to where Zir was working. He was small and thin, the size of a baby, with tiny, delicate hands, and a much rounder face than an adult Volin. He wore navy dungarees, exposing a lot of vibrant green scales, but he obviously didn’t care. He held something to his mouth, taking bites and chewing periodically. He was also staring at her.

  Lois was taken back. Normally, she was good with children, but this whole situation had thrown her for a loop. Did he even understand English? She settled on a smile and a small wave. Zir had his back to her. Taz reached out for Zir, his small hand tapping Zir’s arm as he shifted towards him, clearly wanting to be picked up again. Zir ran his hand over Taz’s head and murmured something to soothe him, and Taz didn’t persist.

  Soon after, Zir put a dish in front of her holding something like a couscous salad with chopped vegetables. Lois looked for cutlery, and Zir handed her a knife and fork. She was surprised, since she’d never seen any of the Volin use utensils when they ate before, but she couldn’t see how he could eat this dish without them.

  He scooped Taz up in one hand and put him on the dining table, placing a plate with just the vegetables on it in front of him, which he ate with his hands. In the way of many small children, Taz was not curious as long as he was eating. Lois waited until Zir sat down.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Zir shrugged to acknowledge her thanks before fixing his eyes on his plate. “I studied what dishes we would both enjoy. This is what I had the ingredients for.”

  “Oh…” Lois wasn’t sure what to say to that. Did he mean that he had figured out meals for them as a couple, before he had asked her to be his mate? Or did he just mean that he had a Human/Volin cookbook somewhere? That he had been taught on the transport ship or in a class he had taken since then?

  Lois knew which one she would prefer, but she also knew which one was more likely, especially coupled with the date book she’d seen. She almost lost her appetite as the evidence piled up that his feelings for her weren’t as shallow as she had hoped.

  She decided to fill the silence by eating. It was nice. She cou
ld tell whatever it was wasn’t couscous and sundried tomatoes, but it was very edible. Not like he’d given her lemon juice and leaf-steak.

  Zir jumped up suddenly, startling both her and Taz, who flinched back. He went to one of the kitchen cabinets and rummaged around for a few seconds, then came back with a can of soda. He put it down in front of her and nodded at it, then resumed eating.

  Lois accepted the can, but now she had to ask. “Did you get this for me?” She knew fizzy drinks were an acquired taste for the Volin, and the majority didn’t like them.

  Zir shrugged, not looking at her.

  Lois wanted to scowl; it was exactly this kind of behaviour that made her not like him, and think he was rude. It was a simple question. He could lie if he wanted to. He could at least look at her, or say something to acknowledge that she’d spoken. It wasn’t a stupid question.

  But now she had to wonder whether he was shy, or embarrassed. If he was human, that was what she would think. She’d shot him down, and this suggested that it wasn’t just a casual thing. He had bought food and drink she would like, despite the fact she had never visited his home before.

  “Zir, please answer me,” she pushed. She wanted to know. Didn’t she have a right to know? If he cared about her, wouldn’t he want her to know? He had done nothing to indicate that he had any feelings for her before basically proposing, and it looked like that was how he intended to continue, even now.

  Well, no more. She wouldn’t push him at work, but they were alone now. She didn’t want to play this game anymore, wondering exactly what she’d done when she’d turned him down, whether she’d broken his heart or if he didn’t really care. If she was going to feel guilty about it, she didn’t want it to be based on her best guess.

  He glanced up at her from across the table, yellow eyes focusing on her, his expression annoyed. He apparently found her easier to look at that evening though.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Why? Did you buy it for me specifically or did you just buy it in case you had human guests?” Lois pressed. She felt nosey, but this could be the deepest conversation they’d ever had.

  “I bought it for you. Specifically,” Zir clarified.

  “Why? Because you thought… I’d-”

  “Because I wanted my home to be ready. Have I answered all your questions yet?” he snapped.

  Lois flinched at his tone and looked at her plate, poking the last red thing with her fork. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I invited myself into your home. I shouldn’t be interrogating you when you’re helping me.”

  Zir grunted and turned to Taz. “Ready for sleep, little one?” he asked in Volin, pushing his chair away from the table. Taz crammed the bit of vegetable he was holding into his mouth and hastily grabbed the last one off the plate as Zir picked him up in both hands and carried him out of the room.

  Lois finished her meal. Then she washed everything up, leaving it to dry on the side. Then she was at a loss, sitting back down at the dining table with nothing to do but sip her soda and wait for Zir to come back, if he was ever going to.

  It looked like she’d put her foot in it again. Maybe there was just something about her. Maybe Rico was right to dump her. She’d wanted answers, but it had been rude to demand them from Zir in his own home, when he was doing her this massive favour.

  She looked around, trying to find something she could do to help him out, something more for her to clean. She wanted to sit on the sofa where she’d be more comfortable, but that book was over there, and she didn’t want to be caught near it. Zir obviously wanted to pretend that his proposal had never happened.

  As the minutes ticked by, and it looked increasingly like Zir wasn’t going to come back, she wondered where she was going to sleep. Under the circumstances, she was prepared to sleep on the floor if she had to, but she’d prefer not to. She eyed the couch appraisingly. It was a two-seater, so too short for her to comfortably stretch out, but it would be soft at least. Maybe she should just cut her losses and curl up for the night, sleep through the rest of this awkwardness. It was still early, but she had nothing else going on.

  She waited another few minutes, then sighed and stood up. Of course, just at that moment Zir walked back in, his arms full of blankets and pillows, his wings up and Taz nowhere to be seen. They both froze when they saw each other. Zir moved first, holding up his load in an explanatory gesture and moving toward the couch. Lois followed him, noticing that the book had disappeared by the time she got there. Zir had laid a pillow down on one end and was shaking out a thick blanket with a lurid tribal pattern on it.

  “Thank you,” Lois said, breaking the silence. “Really. You didn’t have to help me but you did. I just wanted you to know that I do appreciate it, and I’m sorry for… overstepping, earlier.”

  Zir glanced at her, then nodded, which she had to accept as all the answer she was going to get. This time she knew better than to question it, though of course she was disappointed.

  When one blanket was tucked into the cushions to act as a sheet, Zir handed her another one and looked ready to leave her alone. At the last second, he turned back and faced her, though he didn’t meet her eyes.

  “I am glad you called me,” he said stiltedly. “You should always call me. I will always help you. Call me more, and I will help you more,” he finished enigmatically, though he nodded as if he had clarified something between them.

  “Okay,” Lois answered, confused. Was this his way of saying they could still be friends?

  “‘Okay’? You say yes?” Zir asked.

  “I mean, um-”

  Zir made a clicking noise of frustration. “Lois, I still want to be your mate. I want you to choose me. Rely on me and I will prove myself. You will see,” he said.

  Lois let herself drop onto the couch as his declaration, and the emotion in it, took her by surprise. “But Zir,” she replied carefully. “You never talk to me. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling. How am I supposed to deal with that?”

  He didn’t say anything, standing in front of her as still as stone, his jaw and fists tight as he looked to the side. Lois reached for his hand, his fist opening as soon as she touched it, and pulled him gently down until he consented to sit on the coffee table opposite her. He was still scowling and looking determinedly away from her.

  After a moment’s silence he said bitterly, “It is different on Teiss.”

  Lois snorted a weak laugh in commiseration. “I’m not Volin. If you’re doing things that are supposed to show me what you want, I’m not catching them, sorry.”

  “I have said it clearly. Twice now,” Zir argued.

  “Okay, that first time you took me by surprise. I thought you hated me, and I was angry at you for ruining my date, and I didn’t think you were serious. I was harsh, and I apologise for that now. I would have been nicer if I had known you actually…” she trailed off, realising she still didn’t know for sure what he felt for her, if anything.

  “So you’ve changed your mind?” Zir asked, the hope in his voice almost making Lois wince.

  “I still don’t know what you mean when you say you want to be my mate. Do you mean it like a boyfriend? A husband? A fling?”

  “If you accepted me, you would move here with me, and we would breed together in my nest every night,” Zir told her, his voice turning a little raspy as he looked at her, complete pupils moving over her face. “I would feed you, and protect you, and answer all your needs.”

  Lois swallowed, trying to tug her skirt down subtly as she grew warm at his mention of them breeding – every night, no less! – and hoped she wasn’t blushing.

  “Okay so, you want me to move in with you, and we’d have sex, and children? That’s what you want? I don’t think humans and Volin can reproduce together,” Lois said, trying to stay mature.

  Zir shrugged. “I do not care about that. I do not want children.”

  Lois didn’t know if she did. She had expected to when she was in her twentie
s, but now she was thirty-six she wondered where they’d fit in. But their genetic incompatibility wasn’t a hurdle to Zir, and she wasn’t going to make it a deal-breaker when they weren’t making any promises to each other.

  “How long would we be mated for? I heard on Teiss couples only stay mated a few years,” Lois asked.

  Zir dropped his gaze and shrugged. Lois waited for more, and sighed in frustration when nothing came.

  “Zir, come on, this is the first time we’re talking properly. Don’t ignore me like that.”

  A scowl flickered across Zir’s face as she pressed him, but he replied. “Some couples stay together for life,” he insisted.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  Okay, so that was one point in his favour. She was looking for commitment and it seemed like Zir was too.

  “What about dating?” Lois asked.

  “Dating?”

  “Yeah. Why do we have to go straight to being mates, why can’t we spend time together first, to get to know each other before we make it official?”

  “We will date if that is what you need to accept me,” he said.

  “I wasn’t offering,” she clarified. “But, yeah… we can date. We can get coffee, how about that?” Lois was surprised by how easy it was to imagine getting coffee with Zir. They could go to the DETI café during lunch. That could be the first date anyway, casual. She’d want to go to places out of the building eventually.

  Talking with him now… It wasn’t easy, it was still like prising nails out of a tree getting answers out of him, but it was kind of nice. It gave her a sense of accomplishment and familiarity. He had a way about him, despite being a difficult, stubborn grouch, that was almost cute - if he really did care about her, and was just shy and embarrassed and unsure, which remained to be seen. He was a mystery she was just beginning to scratch the surface of.