The desk clerk kept eyeing my cleavage -- then would move his eyes down to check out the belts I had around my thighs. Dylan hadn't even noticed my new outfit. He had spent most of the trip asking me if I was sure his uniform wasn't too tight. I wanted to tell him if he would lay off the donuts at 10 AM he wouldn't have to worry. He keeps telling me he has quit, but then I find the telltale traces of powdered sugar on the edge of his mouth. I swear, someday I am going to smile and lick it off. That ought to be enough to make him lay off for a while. The clerk leered and told us that we would be entitled to free upgrades on our next visit and gave us a few "free drink" coupons.

Dylan muttered something about the hotel losing a star, which I don't exactly understand.

The amenities of the room brought back my faith in the hotel. It was much larger than I expected with two king-size beds. I found myself wondering about a scenario where the guests would need such "sleeping" accommodations. The bathroom was wonderful with a large glass shower and a sunken tub. I had visions of lounging in the bathtub and watching Dylan shower, but kept those to myself.

"I'm going to be gone a lot, Rommie, relax and have a good time." Dylan had that "I have to get to the meetings" look on his face.

I kept walking around the room, checked out the view, the balcony, the entertainment system and the mini-bar. I wasn't keen on sharing the room with Dylan. I had hoped that this might be. . . well, let's say I haven't had much action on the ship lately and was hoping to broaden my horizons on this trip.

"Here, Rommie. Take my drink coupons. I am sure I won't have to buy anything at the meetings I am going to today."

"As if I drink that much?"

"Well, you might meet someone in the bar. You can impress someone by buying him a drink."

"Buying HIM a drink?" I thought, but didn't reply. Dylan exited.

I noticed members of several different species as well as a group of A/I's gathered together in the corner.

Clearly, not all the delegates had found the meetings as interesting as Dylan Hunt and had cut out early. I, however, was somehow drawn to a human woman with short brown hair wearing a vest laced up the front and a long leather skirt. She looked casually out of place, and she was alone.

"Hi." I am not afraid to walk up to a stranger and start up a conversation. If she wasn't interested I could always move on, and I'm not one for exchanging glances across the room.

"Well, I picked the wrong weekend to decide to do a little shopping. I wanted to get away from my boring world, but I didn't want to be in the action at the center of the universe." She seemed like she wanted to talk to anyone. "What are you doing here? Are you with one of the delegations?"

"I'm an aide to Dylan Hunt."

"Captain Dylan Hunt, the Andromeda Ascendant."

"You know him?"

"Tangentially. A few years back I saved the life of one of his crewmembers? Tyr Anasazi."

"You saved Tyr's life? He never told us about it."

"Don't imagine he would spread the news about being saved by a woman - a kluge at that. Quite a hunk though. Did he ever find a Nietzschean woman to marry and breed with?"

"Yes . . . no. . .I'm not sure. Tyr is pretty secretive about his sex life."

"I'd hope so." She got this funny look on her face. I know how Dylan, or Beka, or Harper would read it. I just smiled.

"Like another drink? I have a whole book of free drink coupons."
 
 

She had been very lonely, widowed and all that, living on a planet where humans were virtual slaves to the Nietzscheans. Then Tyr had dropped out of the sky. He had helped her and her stepson realize that they had some say in their destiny and helped them cope with their existence, but she didn't dwell on that. She had other stories to tell, like how she slowly washed his entire body and discovered that his penis got hard when she cleaned his bone blades. I hadn't realized that they were that sensitive. I will keep it in mind next time we are fighting, might be fun. I can't believe that she is telling me about this after only one drink, but then, I don't know how much she had had to drink before I got there, or exactly how lonely she is right now.

I tell her about watching Tyr naked. Makes her envious. I tell her how he really doesn't have much to do sexually with the other members of the crew, except to make them all -- Beka, Harper, Trance and me -- very horny. I do not tell her about Dylan. I do not tell people about Dylan's sex life, but can't help but wonder that if Dylan had landed on her planet, she would now be fulfilling her lifelong dreams to -- what ever she wanted to do that a High Guard Captain could accommodate -- after a prolonged vacation spent mostly in the Captain's bed. Dylan does like his women. . . despite what he does with Tyr.

I do not tell her that I am an A/I. It is sort of fun to pretend you are a human. I wonder if she will guess. I wonder if she is wondering. I wonder if she would be able to tell. I can always tell, but maybe it is a certain look that we A/I's give each other. You've heard of "gaydar" -- well we A/I's have our own looks, too.

I reach over and touch her hand. She shivers. I like that. I turn toward her and run my hand up her arm and shoulder. She definitely is interested. I can see her nipples getting hard under her top. I guess it is time, so I go for it. I kiss her hard and passionately. She responds with a lot of tongue. Hot damn, Rommie is going to get lucky tonight.

I order a round of shooters before suggesting that we go someplace more private. I figure that they should destroy any inhibitions she might have. The way she kissed me I didn't think there would be many. I, of course, have none. I love to watch people do shooters. Usually they make such funny faces. A slippery nipple is sweet and smooth and makes Yvaine smile.

I suggest that we go back to her room. She informs me that she is sharing a room with her stepson who is more interested in the video games on the entertainment system than exploring this planet. I calculate how long Dylan might be out tonight. He usually gets to talking and loses all track of time. I guess we are safe going back to our room. I hate to rush, but I also hate to miss out. I wonder if I should put out a "do not disturb" sign. Maybe Dylan would get it, but probably not.

My underwear is pink silk. Doesn't go too well with red leather, but this morning when I packed on the Andromeda my mind must have been someplace else . . . oh well. They won't stay on very long.

If she is eager, let her go. I lay back and spread my legs and she buries her head in my crotch. It is at this point that most people realize that I am an A/I. I am not going to go into the anatomical details but suffice it to say that I am slightly different. She doesn't seem to notice, which leads me to believe that she may not be as experienced with other women as I had suspected, or maybe she just thinks I am a sub-species. I don't really care. I am enjoying what she is doing with her tongue a great deal.

I am thinking; I have no sex toys. No, I am not considering using Dylan's force lance even though every woman from here to Tarn Vedra has probably heard stories about Dylan and that force lance. He tried it on me once and it was OK. I like the real thing better. I hadn't noticed if there was a hair dryer in the bathroom. That might be fun. Right now, however, I am just lying back and letting her do the work. It is relaxing not to be in charge.

I breathe "thank you's" as I move lower. She relaxes under me. She still seems to have no clue that I am an A/I. I look down at my hands, notice that my nails are short, and wonder if this is the time and place for the thumb move. That is something I would have never thought of using, despite the fact that I had seen men in action with each other, until I saw Harper use it on -- of all people -- Beka. There is not much that leaves her flat, but when Harper was slowly fucking her and used his thumb I swear that she swore at him in languages she didn't even know, while she kept him in a leg lock for at least an hour. Poor Harper couldn't walk straight, or get the smile off his face, for at least a week.

Yvaine liked it, too. We came together. One of the best things about sex with women is having them cum in your mouth or when you have your fingers in them. You feel as if you are part of the same being.

I have a feeling she and I are going to have more than just this one tonight. She is all over me again. I think it is time for one of the few things that still relies on base ten digits. . . sixty-nine.

The room was fairly dark, only the lights coming from the crack in the pulled drapes and a nightlight near the closet. Yvaine had me on all fours licking me from the rear. She seemed to get a kick out of it when I barked. God we were getting bad. I guess that is what happens when you drink that much.

You know Dylan. I don't have to go into great detail about what happened next. He could have looked over at my bed, turned around and walked out quietly. That would give me some time to realize what had happened, to put some clothes on so I could introduce him to my date, and maybe to invite him to go with us to the bar and use up the rest of the drink coupons. But, no-o-o-o-o. Dylan Hunt, first in his class at the High Guard Academy, Captain of the biggest, baddest starship in the known universe, survivor of 300 years in a black hole and the single-single handed restorer of the Commonwealth went into a full scale panic attack. He screamed. He swore in Vedran. He ran over and grabbed Yvaine by the shoulders and pulled her off of me.

I believe his exact words, as he held her naked, arms and legs flailing at arms-length, were, "What are you doing with my Avatar?"

She had no fucking idea. She though we were being attacked by a madman.

"Yvaine, this is my captain and my roommate on this trip. Dylan Hunt."

"Dylan, this is Yvaine. She knows Tyr. . . . " I couldn't get any more words out. That was OK, because I had managed to get Dylan's dick out of his pants. Yvaine knew exactly what to do with it, too. I never could get the poor man to relax, which right then was a good thing.

Tomorrow, someone is going to have a hangover. It won't be me. I am an A/I. Tonight, however, a poor woman from a slave planet is going to be part of a story that she can tell her friends with glee for the next thirty years. Dylan and I don't dare tell anyone. That's OK. We have a lot of things that we share only with each other.

McJude

August 2002

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