Clover
What the fuck was she doing? Clover was leading on a Mahdfel. One who at any moment, could bend her over and impale her on his rock hard green cock. And she hadn’t been imagining it earlier. Scrubs glowed. His tattoos lit up the harder and hotter he got.
She should just go back to the plan. Ignore him and he would go away. They were already halfway through the trip. Surely all she had to do was ditch him for dinner and go back to ignoring him.
Except he could open her door. The thought should have sent a chill down her spine. Instead, it sent a hot tingling shiver right to her pussy. Clover tried, right after she got out of the shower, to remove his permissions but even though she had administrator access, there was no way to override a medical access code. If he wanted to enter, she was his.
His Mahdfel honor would prevent that, though. It didn’t stop her from waking hot and wet in the middle of the night, from dream after dream in which he came to her, cock towering and ready.
She wondered what he tasted like. She’d been too timid to pop her finger in her mouth after trailing it through his blue cum. Blue! Like cotton candy! She’d stepped into the shower, nightie and all, and washed his cum from her breasts. Despite being exhausted, her nipples were tight points that still begged to be explored by his hot mouth.
Crawling into bed naked had not done her any favors either. The sheets against her skin just reminded her of how much she wanted his hands (and every other part of him) caressing her. This was going too far. This was unfair to both of them. This was the hottest sex she’d ever even dreamed of having and she hadn’t even gotten down to business yet.
Fuck, fuck, fuck a duck.
Of course, she was going to have dinner with him. But fully clothed this time. Civilized. Like he was a doctor. Okay, so he was a doctor, but like he was her doctor. Cold, clinical Scrubs. Who had no tongue.
Shit.
She did not dress up for him. She layered. Shirt, sweater, boy short underwear with baggy pants. No cleavage, no betraying little nipples. Hair in a sloppy ponytail. Nothing special. Thank the blazes he had shown up in his more formal uniform. No chest in sight, except what was covered under his tight black uniform that left very little to the imagination. And of course his hard on. She was beginning to think it was a permanent condition.
He seemed to think an explanation was in order. “I did ejaculate twenty minutes ago but my biological imperative is in overdrive with such close proximity.”
Clover said nothing, as images of the night before, cock in hand, splurting his blue cum all over her tits, filled her brain. She tried not to squirm in her seat.
They were in the galley, a common space in the ship, innocuous enough, but with just the two of them, and with the lighting a bit low, it could possibly be downright romantic.
Scrubs brought out a flask and poured a bright blue liquid into two small glasses. It was the same color as… no she wasn’t going there.
“So, Doctor. What made you choose to be a doctor?”
“The Mahdfel do not choose as much as humans when it comes to their preferred careers. My specific species, of Etlon, are small and well suited for tracking and subterfuge in both shaded and green spaces. Most of our work reflects as such but my intellect and calm demeanor placed me in the track of medicine where I excel.”
“So what would you do if you weren’t a doctor?”
He gave her a blank look, as if he had never considered an alternate path.
“If you got to choose,” she prompted, “what would you have done?”
“I would have chosen you.”
Clover opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. This alien didn’t make anything easy.
“I have never been unhappy as a medic. I have skill and I will put it to good use in the way that it most benefits the Mahdfel defeat of the Suhlik.”
“Okay, then what made you choose obstetrics? I mean, that’s not exactly patching up wounded warriors on the field of battle and whatnot.”
“We will not defeat the Suhlik without reinforcements. And no matter how many times they are patched up, the Mahdfel are not immortal.”
“Right. Then why Earth?” Another blank look. “Terra. Why Terra?”
“Because my child will be part Terran and I want every bit of knowledge to make sure he and you are safe.”
“Back up the bus, kid.” It was a phrase her father had used, although she wasn’t quite sure what a bus was, or why it needed to back up. “I don’t plan on having children anytime soon.”
“No, of course not. It is most wise to wait until we are settled, though I have been offered a placement in the Clan of Athen of Etlon on Noven 90.”
“Except I have no idea who, what and where that is. And I don’t plan on mating with you,” she repeated for the hundredth time.
The stubborn alien continued on, as if he hadn’t heard. “It is mostly a jungle planet, but well out of Suhlik territory. Athen is son of Etlon of Etlon.”
“Etlon. Of Etlon. What, did they name the whole planet after him?”
“Yes and no. Our ancestors were from a planet called Etlon but the Suhlik destroyed it. And so, once we freed ourselves, we named our leader and greatest warrior Etlon. It was decided that he would resettle a new planet, which of course, we renamed Etlon.”
“You didn’t think that would be confusing?”
“It is not.”
He seemed to think a change of topic was in order. He took one of the glasses of blue stuff and put it to her lips. She knew she shouldn’t but she took a sip. It was sour, a little like lemonade, but with an alcoholic kick at the end that went straight to her nipples. The way he stared intently at her, Clover could have sworn that he could see them under her shirt and sweater.
“This will help warm you up.”
“I’m not cold,” she stammered. In fact, she was beginning to turn to fire. “Food. We need food.”
He stood and crossed over to the two dishes he had already prepared. He took off the foil and Clover could see a very Terran dish.
“Lasagna with breadsticks,” he stated as he placed one dish in front of her and the other at his place. “I have been experimenting with Terran food, considering my upcoming internship. I have found this nutritionally balanced and appealing to the taste buds.”
He took a breadstick from her plate and held it up to her lips. Clover knew it wasn’t really bread, but she could smell the garlic buttery topping and her mouth began to water. It should be obscene, Scrubs feeding her such a phallic object of tasty goodness. Clover still couldn’t resist taking a bite.
Scrubs was inordinately pleased, so much that Clover began to get suspicious and snatched the rest of the bread out of his hand. He simply smiled and then took one of the sticks from his own plate and took a bite.
When she did not continue eating, his smile turned to a concerned frown.
“It is not good? You do not like Terran food?”
“I like lasagna. It’s the company that I’m not too sure about.”
“You like me. I have read that Terran women do not go on dates with warriors they do not like.”
“This? This is not a date. This is dinner.”
Scrubs screwed up his face as if trying to remember a specific detail.
“How much research did you do on the subject of dating?” Clover inquired, taking another sip of the blue lemonade. This might actually prove to be an entertaining night.
“I read everything.”
“I don’t even think that’s possible.”
“All of the Mahdfel guides. Our experience with the Terran culture is fairly limited, considering the recentness of our first encounter.”
Scrubs tore into his dinner with gusto. It must take a gazillion calories to power that much muscle.
“So you guys swoop in, make deals to marry the women and then write dating how-to guides?”
“You have forgotten the part about ripping the throats out of any Suhlik that might have been attacking you, but yes. It is most efficient.”
“What’s included in this alien’s guide to Earth women?”
“Customs and dating rituals, preferred sexual practices, common phrases and expressions that befuddle the translator.”
“Preferred what?”
He offered her a very male grin. “I possess complete knowledge of Terran female anatomy and erogenous zones. Some is instinct, but I am very interested to try some of the more complicated practices.”
Clover tried to respond to this but another shift in her chair brought back the memory of his tongue inside her.
“Maybe we should think this through a little bit more. I have a ship. You have a doctor thing to do. How do you expect to have a marriage when you are off doctoring and I’m off making cargo runs? Surely you can see this is never going to work.”
“Where there is a will, there is a way.”
He’d obviously pulled that explanation out of the manual. Her com unit beeped, as did Scrubs’s. She scanned the message. It was an automated distress beacon. This far out into space, those were nothing but idiot bait. The Suhlik planted them along the common travel lines, hoping some well meaning dolt would wander into range and choose to assist the hapless ship. Instead, they would find only Suhlik or booby traps waiting to blow them to smithereens. The automated distress beacons were not accompanied by real transmissions. There were no live people to talk to, but they did require a captain to dismiss them three times before they finally went away. It was meant to prod captains into thinking twice about leaving someone stranded, but it just helped to lower morale, as far as Clover was concerned. She knew if she were ever stranded on a lonely asteroid with only an automated beacon, she’d be screwed too. No one would stop.
When Clover dismissed it the second time to turn it off, Scrubs stood and continued to look at his, unable to figure out why she chose to ignore the plea.
“It’s a trap. Just turn it off,” she said.
Clover began to expect trouble when she realized that his hard on was gone and his skin was rippling with a color she’d never seen on him before.
“We will go.”
“No. We will not go. It’s just a Suhlik ploy. Those are everywhere in this sector.”
“It is our duty. My duty.”
“Well, too bad, because this is my ship.”
“I am a medic. I must go.”
“I get that. Really I do, but I’m sure there is another Mahdfel ship with another Mahdfel medic somewhere nearby.”
“There is not. I checked.”
“Seriously, I am not taking my ship down onto a Suhlik infested rock so you can go get yourself blown up!”
“I take heart in the fact that you are considerate of my welfare.”
“Screw that. I don’t get paid if you don’t get delivered.”
“I will write a note. They will cover your expenses.”
“The answer is still no.”
“As a Mahdfel medic, I have complete and absolute override for every system on this ship. If you do not cooperate, I will lock you in your quarters until we have ascertained the legitimacy of the request.”
Gone was the alien who was perpetually hopeful that he was about to get lucky. In his place was the genetically altered super soldier who planned to do his duty even if it cost him a mate. Clover thought she had about five more seconds to respond before he hauled her off to her cabin. From there, she’d have no way to assist if things went sideways.
“Fine. We land. You look around. I stay on the ship. If you see one bloody sign of Suhlik, you assume that everyone is dead because, well they are. And you know it.”
Scrubs opened his mouth to object but then nodded. “You will not leave the ship.”
“Why the hell would I want to walk into a trap?”
“It may not be a trap.”
Who was he kidding? The obvious trap was obviously a trap.
Clover headed to the cockpit to oversee the slight course correction. Scrubs followed her until he was assured she was true to her word and actually heading toward the small asteroid that was begging for help.
“It’s an ice fest down there. Air barely breathable,” she warned.
“It is habitable.”
“If you’re Frosty.”
“I do not understand.”
“Frosty was a snowman. He had a magical hat and he danced around.”
Scrubs obviously wanted to ask her more, but the proximity alarm went off as they drew near the surface. He disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared in white Mahdfel armor. It must have been heated because it was not exactly thick, warm and fuzzy like Clover’s coat that hung on a peg behind her seat. She was tempted to put it on, just anticipating the draft that would blow in when he opened the hatch.
She was also tempted to put it on because inside one of the sleeves was a small laser pistol. It might only put a dent in Suhlik armor but it was the best she had. Scrubs had materialized with a full scale rifle with all the bells and whistles. At least he didn’t plan to go in stupid.
Clover descended through the lower atmosphere into a field nearly entirely white. Only her instruments could tell her where the ground started and the air began. She coasted along toward the beacon and for a moment, felt relief that there were no signs of Suhlik ships or activity. Just peaceful snow.
Through the snow drifts, Clover finally was able to make out a cave. She glanced twice at the instruments. The beacon was in that cave. There was no way she was parking there. About 50 meters away, she found a landing spot in the snow bank. She just had to hope that the ground below was hard ice or rock, enough to support the weight of the ship as it settled.
“Well?” She turned to Scrubs as the ship settled and she was finally able to let out a breath.
“I believe the expression is ‘so far so good’.”
“That’s just the problem. They want to lure you in before wham! You never saw them coming.”
“It is difficult to sneak up on an Etlonian.”
“Keep your coms open. I want to know the moment you hit trouble.”
The ship had only two small pulse cannons, enough to discourage pirates, but just like her pistol, would hardly even put a dent in fully armed Suhlik ship.
“If I hit trouble,” Scrubs reiterated. “And you, too.”
Without warning, he tilted her chin up and claimed her mouth. It was a searing kiss, bold and full of the need and desire he had exhibited before but also different. It wasn’t quite a goodbye, but more like a last-kiss-before-I-die kind of thing.
When he pulled away, her knees were weak and she nearly shouted at him again not to go. But there was no changing his stubborn Mahdfel mind. There were people in there to rescue and he was determined to be a one warrior rescue party.
He opened the hatch and stepped out into the white landscape. Clover shivered as the brisk air flashed in for a moment before the ships heaters dissolved the wave of snow.
Clover really did want him to come back. She was surprised at how much her stomach pulled and turned. She tried to tell herself it was the kind of concern she’d show for any passenger under her protection. Clover knew it ran deeper than that.
She couldn’t possibly be falling in love with the oaf, could she? It would never work.
“My sweet.”
“Huh?” Clover sat up straight, twisting to find the source of Scrubs’s voice.
“Just testing the coms.” His voice was low and calm, as if he were whispering love notes from the other side of the bed.
Clover tried to spot him, but warrior in white armor in a practical blizzard was too difficult to spot. She transferred over to his digital tracker. He was approaching the mouth of the cave. It was a gentle and smooth route, even though Clover imagined it rather treacherous walking through the ice and snow.
“The moment you see a Suhlik, you run,” she said.
“Back to you?”
“Back to the ship.”
“And what prize do I get for survival?”
“Surviving?” Living to see another day was a pretty good prize, especially when Suhlik were involved.
“I was hoping for something more substantial.”
“What’s more substantial than survival?”
“A mate. A family. A very long night in bed.”
“You never quit, do you?”
“I do not.”
How the hell had she ended up with such a persistent yet charming stalker?
He reached the edge of the cave and by mutual agreement, the banter stopped. He needed every bit of focus he could muster.
Clover clicked through the filters on the main screen. There were no other heat signatures that she could find. Scrubs barely registered himself, but that was probably the armor doing its best to camouflage him from possible Suhlik that might be watching.
There was no warning before the screen lit up like a Christmas tree. The explosion was a slow boom, a rumble, and even through the snow, Clover could see that the mouth of the cave had collapsed.
“Scrubs! Scrubs! Teeth! Goddammit! Answer me!”
“Go.”
It was whispered, but it was not in the sexy loving tones as before. His voice was raspy, tortured, and despite the fact that she knew he was injured, just knowing he was alive was enough to have her tugging on her coat.
“Go.” He repeated again.
Clover was going all right. She was going to rescue his sorry ass. There were no Suhlik here. And if they’d set the trap and he’d sprung it, the chance of springing another was a lot less. Though they were not above setting another device on a timer to slaughter any first responders that came along trying to help. On such a small rock, that was probably not necessary because there was hardly ever anyone out to rescue the rescuers.
“Keep talking to me.”
She could hear him breathing over the com but little else. She opened the hatch and nearly fell over when the wind hit her smack in the face.
His trail was still visible, and Clover was glad for it. Without some sort of trail to follow, she would have had no idea how to traverse the short but deadly distance to the cave entrance. She used his footsteps to secure her own footing and cursed every gust that made her pause on what should have been a minute’s walk.
Finally, she reached the mouth of the cave. It was only partially collapsed. The left side was still open enough for her to scramble in past the rock but once past the initial opening, it was pitch black. Clover reached in and activated the lights that were sewn into the hood of her coat. A quick survey told her this cave had been manmade, drilled into the side of a hill to perhaps provide living quarters for a mining team.
Good. Living quarters meant possible supplies. And heat. Clover slapped her hands together. Even with the gloves on, her fingers were already going numb.
“Scrubs?”
She heard her voice echo out of a nearby com. She couldn’t hear him breathing anymore. Clover turned to the rubble pile and gave it a quick scan with her flashlight. She saw a hand. She began to dig frantically until it was nearly free. Then she gave it a tug. She was horrified when it came out in her hand. It was just the glove of his suit.
“Where the hell are you, you stubborn bastard?” Again, she heard her own words echo in the com. This time, she turned her flashlight deeper into the cave. There he was, missing one glove, but all in one piece.
Clover ran to him, nearly tripping over a huddle of bodies that lay against the wall. His duty as a medic had probably saved his life. He’d been far back enough in the cave when the bomb had triggered that he had hopefully only been knocked out by the blast.
Clover rolled him flat on his back and tried to get a better look at him. There was a bloody gash on his forehead, but the one thing Clover did know about Mahdfel anatomy was that they were very hard to kill.
“You are going to be fine.” She tapped him on the top of his helmet and the com unit gurgled in her ear and then fizzed out completely. She gave the armor a tap, but it did not respond at all. In fact, she was pretty sure that the sparking from the front panel was probably not a good thing.
Clover took off his other glove and stuck her hand inside. It was ice cold. The heaters had stopped working. If she didn’t get him covered, she wouldn’t have to worry about that gash on his forehead. He’d freeze to death first.
Shit. This place probably had emergency supplies or power somewhere. But if she were a Suhlik and she was going to booby trap the place, that was the first place she’d stick them. Ten minutes back to the ship, ten minutes to return. He might survive that long but she didn’t think so.
Damn. She took a look around again and figured she might as well die trying to do something noble, rather than sulk in her ship for the rest of her life for letting the stubborn bastard die.
“You had better be worth it.”
She took off her jacket and laid it over the top of the medic. It was cold, but she wasn’t likely to freeze in the next ten minutes with all the running around she planned to do. Clover yanked the flashlight out of his tool holster and ran to the back of the cave. Here there was a bulkhead, that had been blasted open. The crew quarters used to be nice and toasty, she imagined, far away from the mine entrance to the right. Too bad it had been blasted. The systems probably would still function if the door was properly closed.
Clover scrambled past the mutilated door and down the hallway. The three miners huddled at the front were not the only casualties. She spotted three more casualties on her way. One of them was barely wrapped in a towel. He’d been sliced nearly in half on his way to the shower. Clover was glad for the freezing temperatures. The bodies hadn’t been able to decompose so there wasn’t any smell.
Clover progressed to last room on the left. It was a modular system that matched many of the facilities she’d seen over the years, so the layout wasn’t hard to figure out. It was three times as big as the crew quarters and served as their rec room and general hangout space. She spotted what she was looking for almost immediately.
The company that manufactured these suckers had a marketing ploy. Buy a certain number of modules and we’ll throw in an emergency bench for free. This particular bench was covered in a stack of girly magazines, a trend that aliens had actually picked up from Earth, according to her father. Porn was popular everywhere.
It was either a neglected piece of furniture covered in aliens with big butts and multiple sets of boobs, or it was staged to look like a neglected piece of furniture and covered with smut to attract attention to it.
Hell. There was no time to stand there and ponder all the options. Clover grabbed a broom that looked like it had never been used, and pushed the button on the bench. It clicked
open and the alien tits slid to the ground. Nothing exploded. So far, so good.
Clover grabbed the water, the emergency rations and the patented Enviro-tent!
She’d never actually had to use it, but from the advertising and hype, she hoped it lived up to its name. And anyway, she was still alive and not blown up, so things were going her way. Clover sprinted back to her Mahdfel, placed the tent on the ground and pushed the button. It immediately began to inflate into a two man (Mahdfel size guaranteed) dome. There were no poles to assemble, and the moment it reached its full height, she heard a heater kick on. There was a sensor inside that read the temperature and kept the thing at a balmy sixty-eight degrees. Right now, that sounded heavenly. Her teeth had actually begun to chatter.
Inside the tent, she found two blankets and self-inflating pillows. The only problem now was getting the lug inside the tent. She grabbed a blanket and laid it down next to him. With a little effort, she rolled him onto it. Grabbing one end, she dragged the heavy warrior into the tent, inch by frustrating inch.
She bent him at the knees to get the last of him inside and zipped up the tent.
“I’d say you need to go on a diet, but I don’t think there’s a spare inch of fat on you,” Clover remarked as she stripped the armor from him. “Too bad you’re not awake to appreciate this, because I’m never going to let you forget that I saved your green ass.”
The armor was thankfully mostly whole. It was singed and crushed in places, but the stuff had actually done a fairly good job at protecting him. She didn’t stop until he was down to the little black shorts. His skin was everywhere, and thankfully, it was getting warmer by the minute. He didn’t appear to have any other injuries, and she was glad. Mahdfel blood was not something she wanted to handle.
She curled up on top of him and pulled the blanket over them. Hopefully he’d wake up soon, but she should get some shuteye before he woke up. In order to get themselves off this rock, she’d have to be the one to leave the tent to find him some suitable clothing. After all, he wasn’t going to be able to face a snowstorm in his skivvies.