Chapter 21

Sandy

“Come on, Rane. You can do it. Be brave!”

“It’s not a matter of bravery,” he retorted, upset and unnerved.

She had to fight back a grin as she stood at his back, pushing him forward. “You’ve got this. We practiced.”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“Well, yeah. For one thing, you can’t interrupt the host to give him a kiss every time you mess up thinking that will distract him."

Her admonishment was flat, since it wasn’t like she had pushed him away any time he tried. But the fact remained that it was too late to get away. And maybe this wasn’t stepping off the side of a building, trusting that your fall would be controlled and safe, but it was still something scary and new for him, and the fear was understandable.

Rane was going to do an interview.

It was a casual thing. Late night TV host style – though this was more of a streaming situation that could be replayed anytime. The show was a popular one, and the host was notorious for having fun, silly interviews instead of anything hard hitting or serious. In other words, it was completely foolish journalism.

But it was also the first time Rane el Elffa was going to be doing something like this.

Elffa didn’t like putting him on camera in an uncontrolled capacity. His being dragged, drunk or drugged, in front of cameras wasn’t the same thing. For an official interview, there was structure, there was intention, there was likely a script . For something like this, where nothing was scripted and he wasn’t going through the motions, there was a greater than good chance that Rane’s personality would show through.

Which meant there was a chance people would like him.

Which meant there was a chance people would empathize with him.

Elffa couldn’t have that. So, Rane had never given interviews like this. Any that he was forced to give due to charity functions and the like were all scripted and pre-prepared with no chance for anyone to ask questions.

But Sandy had reached out to this show in particular and offered him an interview if he could do it the same day. She needed it to be done fast. If Elffa found out, she could refuse to let it happen and, as Rane’s guardian, her refusal was as absolute as a mother forbidding the media from recording or presenting her toddler on Earth.

But if she didn’t know about it in time to stop it, there was nothing to be done.

That was Drevor’s advice. He couldn’t set up the interview or Elffa would know he wasn’t on her side, but what he could do was privately alert the host about the legitimacy and urgency of the request he would soon be getting and letting Sandy handle it from there.

However, since it was such short notice, Rane had barely any time to prepare. While he was used to being on stage – both in the stadium and reading his pre-prepared speeches – he had never just winged it before. And that was what was unnerving him.

“You’ll be fine,” Sandy promised, kissing the back of his shoulder as the stage manager gestured for him to come forward. “Just remember everything I’ve said. Humble, but not ashamed. Factual, but not confident. Guardianships aren’t shameful no matter what anyone says, so act like it.”

“Right,” he murmured.

He turned back, swept her up in his arms, and kissed her. So suddenly, she didn’t have a chance to do more than be surprised before he put her back down. He was grinning.

“For luck,” he said before turning and walking off.

Sandy put a hand to her lips, heart racing. It was hardly their first kiss, so how was it that it still felt so new and exciting?

“I think I’m going to lose my breakfast,” Drevor grumbled from her side.

She turned to him, chuckling. “You’re such an anti-romantic.”

“Never really seen the point,” he muttered. “It turns males into fools. I’d rather stick by my work.”

“Whatever makes you happy. Thanks again for this.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered looking at his tablet. “Elffa’s read the message that you got him to do this, but she hasn’t replied yet.”

“And that’s bad?”

“She never lets someone else end a conversation, even through messages. I’m concerned that this will only escalate her behavior.”

“Good.” Sandy smiled as she folded her hands behind her back, watching with a proud smile as Rane spoke with the show host. He looked uneasy, but he was getting more relaxed as the other male joked and brought him out of his shell.

She was sure he’d be surprised to hear it, but Sandy rather thought Rane was as much of a recluse as she was. It might not be immediately apparent since so much of his life was on camera, but he didn’t choose any of that. He certainly didn’t want it – at least, outside of trikball. She was an introvert that had been indulged; he was an introvert that had been raised in an extroverted environment. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable being in front of so many, he just learned to tolerate it because he had no other option.

“You want her to escalate her behavior?” Drevor asked, confused, drawing her back to the conversation at hand.

“Yes. I do.”

“Care to explain?”

“She’s a control freak. The more she feels like she’s losing control, the harder she’s going to fight to get it back.”

“Yes, and I would assume that’s a bad thing.”

“Except it’s not,” she smirked smugly. “If she ramps up her behavior, she’s likely to start making mistakes. More than that, if she makes things too bad for him, and people find out what she’s doing, they’re going to start sympathizing with him. He won’t be the kid who grew up acting out despite his loving mother, he’ll be the male who has been overcontrolled by his mother to the point where he had no choice but to act out. She’s playing a game of perception, and we have to play the same game if we want to win, so she has to get worse.”

Drevor shook his head, crest fully lowered. “I will have to assume that you know what you’re talking about, Tilla Sandy.”

“Trust me,” she smiled back at her male. He was laughing at something the host had said as he did his best to answer the questions. “I want her unhinged. It will make my life a lot easier, even if it doesn’t look like it in the short term. How’s that thing I asked you to look into?”

Drevor sighed, but he didn’t resist her obvious attempt to change the subject. “I believe, if you have lived here long enough, we might be able to get a tribunal for you waved in the event that you mate Rane.”

“Long enough? How long are we talking here?”

“I’m not sure. This kind of problem has never happened before. No offworlder has ever mated someone who has been put under adult guardianship, so there’s no real way to say what would happen one way or another. However, looking at those who have earned citizenship through ways other than mating, those that have already spent a year living on the planet can petition to avoid a tribunal and just have their rights as an adult immediately granted to them.”

“A year, huh…” she mumbled.

“If we can use that petition to keep you from being forced into Rane’s situation – and I’m not sure that we can – you would need to wait for a year at minimum. Our tribunal will use Levtiram years, not Coalition years – and ours are longer.”

“Well, dang,” she sighed. “So, we couldn’t be mated for a year. That’s not ideal. I don’t like the idea of giving Elffa that much time.”

“Another thing I found,” he continued. “You and Rane have been sexually active, correct?”

“Hard to ‘find’ that when we fool around in front of you,” she snickered, giving him a look that made him groan.

“Yes, I’m aware. And I’ll be taking my payment in the form of a long vacation when all this is over. But that’s not my point. When you came here, when you had our language imprint, did they offer to pause your ovulation?”

“Yes. They told me that a language imprint and the ovulation pause were part of the price included in traveling to meet my match.”

“Did you take them up on the offer?”

“Er, yeah,” she frowned, not sure she was comfortable with this line of questioning, but trusting he had a good reason to ask. “I did. I knew I was coming here to be someone’s mate, but I didn’t think it would be smart to have babies with him right away. Turns out, my intuition was exactly correct.”

“Actually, I think you should get pregnant.”

She started in surprise, facing him fully. Her immediate reflex – to demand he mind his own business about that – died at the serious look in his eyes. So, she forced herself to ask calmly instead, “And why is that?”

Drevor opened his mouth but before he could reply, his tablet went off. He frowned as he looked at the message.

“Ah,” he mumbled. “She responded.”

“Oh, great, what did she say?”

Sandy leaned over, blatantly checking the message on the screen. He tilted it, making it easier for her to read.

‘ I’ll deal with them myself. ’

Sandy frowned, a chill going down her spine.

That seemed entirely too calm and vague of an answer. She expected Elffa to rage or demand Drevor to do something. The only reason Drevor had even snitched on their location – with her permission – was because they wanted her to keep him in the loop by trusting him.

But this little message…

“What does she mean?” Sandy asked, looking at Drevor.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “That’s not really her style. She makes me do things for her.”

Sandy frowned. “You’re not the only one who helps her though, right? What about the scaley twins?”

“You mean Orza and Kirs?”

“I really don’t care about their names. Blue and Green is enough. What’s their story?”

“I admit, I don’t know it. They’ve been working for Elffa longer than me. All I know is that they do whatever she says.”

“Yeah, thinking doesn’t seem to be their strong suit.”

He chuckled at her deadpan tone. “Yes, well, those two are a problem, but they’re not good for more than brute strength. I don’t know how they could help her with the hold she has over you.”

“You’re the brains behind the operation then?”

“I get things done. Including reporting to her everything you two are doing.”

“Ah, but you do that on my command,” she grinned.

“You better hope she never finds out,” he muttered. “You couldn’t afford me otherwise.”

Sandy laughed, not really concerned. Drevor seemed to be the type of person that liked to complain – for no other reason than complaining itself. It could be a sunny, cloudless day and he’d grumble about the light; but if it were overcast, he’d bemoan the cloud cover. It made him a person that was easy to misunderstand.

But Sandy knew better than to think he’d let not being employed by Elffa stop him. The fact that he was helping them at all spoke to how good of a person he was.

“Ah,” he frowned at his tablet as another message came in. “She’s demanding I return now.”

“Maybe she’ll tell you what she’s up to in person.”

“Perhaps. Will you two be alright on your own?”

“Of course,” she smiled, waving away his concern. “We’ll do some shopping or something and then buy a ride back.”

Drevor inclined his head to her. “I’ll see you back at the manor then.”

She waved him away. It was only after he had left the room that she remembered their interrupted conversation. He told her it would be better for her to get pregnant, but he hadn’t explained why he said that. She had to assume he had a reason, and he wasn’t just talking out his ass.

Frowning, she crossed her arms as she thought.

It wasn’t that she was against having children, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to have one for some kind of purpose . She would love her children regardless, but it did seem a bit cold to be having them for a reason beyond that of just wanting a child.

Then again, she could hardly claim to be the first woman to have done so. Children had certainly been born for worse reasons.

It was something she’d need to talk with Rane about first, of course. They hadn’t actually discussed children. They had barely discussed their own relationship.

She focused back on him.

He looked much more comfortable now. It was just the two of them, and he and the host were having a natural conversation. Therefore, his inherent charm was coming out. Rane was a sweet guy when he wasn’t being forced to behave otherwise.

And now, everyone else was going to see that as well.

“So, what’s this I hear about you finding a human mate?” The host asked, leaning towards him over the desk they were sharing. They weren’t wearing headphones and weren’t talking into mics, but there were a couple combots floating around them, getting shots from all angles, and another one floating face up between them – she had to imagine that was the mic.

Rane chuckled, his crest rising, making the host grin. “Yeah. She’s fantastic.”

“Yeah?” The other male grinned. “I’ve heard some things about humans. I mean, who hasn’t? What can you tell me?”

A dumb smile crossed Rane’s face. “The rumors don’t even do her justice.”

The host laughed, reaching across to knock him against the shoulder. “Nice! Lucky! I’ve seen pics and vids of her. She certainly looks charming.”

“She’s the best,” Rane smiled. “Did you know, her people have gendered colors as well? Except for them, it’s blue for males and pink for females.”

“Pink? For females?” The host laughed. “That’s so strange. I suppose that’s why she wears such bright clothing all the time.”

Rane smiled, looking down as though shy. “I like it. The way she dresses, I mean. It’s so different, and she smiles so bright when she’s picking her clothes.”

“Hm?” An interested look came over the host’s face. “So, you don’t care that people are calling her a fashion catastrophe?”

“What catastrophe? I defy you to tell me she doesn’t look good in whatever she wears.”

“That would be the human in her, I suppose.”

“Not sexually,” Rane frowned. “I mean… just her. The way she wears things. The way she smiles when she finds a new combination she likes. You should have seen her when we first cut her hair! She looked at me like I’d hung the sun, and all I did was cut the strands. How can anyone call her a catastrophe when they see how happy it makes her?”

The host chuckled, resting his chin on his hands. “That’s a fair argument, I suppose. But what do you mean, you cut her hair? Aren’t there salons for that kind of thing for aliens?”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He shrugged. “We weren’t allowed outside at the time. So, we just decided to buy some scissors and do it ourselves. Luckily, that restriction was lifted by the time we decided to pluck my feathers, or that would have been really painful to do at home.”

The host looked confused, but Rane had already moved on, touching the new, bare portions of his scalp, talking about how he was going to tattoo that area to match the swirls she had shaved into the shorn side of her head. How she had told him the hairstyle was called a mohawk on Earth and how much she liked it, even if it made him a fashion catastrophe too.

So quickly and easily, without emphasis or blame or anger, he’d dropped the hint that they were trapped and moved right on like it was nothing. Exactly as they had practiced.

She beamed, proud of him.

Just another breadcrumb for people to think over. To hopefully realize soon what was happening. One step closer to his freedom.

To maybe actually making this relationship permanent.