“That’s what a Team Binkie member is?”
Really?
Pausing the voice that came from the small reading machine, I set it down on the log that I used as my main seating area and rose to move away. Having space from the device seemed imperative even if it was not logical, but I had come to accept many of my actions were not logical.
And when I was alone, I let myself experience them without worry.
If the device made me uncomfortable, I would walk away.
If the diner men made me uncomfortable, I would walk away.
If seeing odd behavior between mated pairs made me uncomfortable, I would walk away.
The first books I had managed to read explained that what the people of Earth had termed mental health was important and I did not need to do things that made me uncomfortable. I could say no. I could decline to talk about anything.
No was a complete sentence.
It was amazingly freeing.
But this.
This.
“What have the diner men been reading?”
This was not the same sharing relationships that I had found in the sparkly dragon’s other books. It had been easy to learn that one person provided rules and either necessary or desired painful pleasure, and the other gave the provider a purpose in life.
Some mates were just needier than others and it was the mate termed as the submissive who provided for their needy mate.
I just had not understood the words for it before.
But this.
This.
“Daddy.”
The human language English used many words in multiple ways, some making more sense than others, but this provided answers and additional questions.
“Team Binkie members are Daddies and the specific type of submissives who give them purpose.”
What had they been called by the author?
I could find the word without going back to the device.
I was good at English.
I was bad at exploring their world but I was good at English and research.
“Littles.”
Yes.
Needing to move, I gave in to the desire to wiggle, as authors described it, and paced around my camp, circling it slowly as I kept the reading device in the middle of my path. It was not dangerous to my physical health, but my books had taught me that mental health was just as important.
So the machine must be watched.
And studied.
That was not good.
The mates called Dominants would curse in this situation, but many books explained that I was not allowed. It was a confusing rule, but one that was widely enforced across many stories, so it must have some broader context I had yet to learn.
“Shoot.”
It was an appropriate word and released emotional frustration.
Dominant mates from Earth would require communication, so practicing was appropriate as well.
“Shoot.”
Using the word more forcefully to give it a human sound, I enjoyed the release it gave me as I performed venting. The mates called submissives required ways of releasing emotions. It was not optional. They were simply not designed to keep emotions and desires contained on their own and found it necessary to have their mates manage them.
They were not defective, just different, and their dominant mates were different as well.
It must be stressful to walk around needing to manage people constantly but always being told no. That was why it was so important that they find their mates. No matter what humans called them. They had different words and could not sense the magic, but it was there. I could see it in their books and the stories they told.
Magic could still be dangerous, however, and dangerous creatures must be studied to understand the different ways they could provide risk. Books were just unconventional risks I had not discovered until coming to the confusing planet.
“Research is important even if it provides danger.”
Pausing my circle, I forced my legs to stop closer to the device. “There was a reason this opportunity was placed in front of you.”
I was not weak or broken.
I was not too defective for a mate.
I simply hadn’t understood what I would be able to provide for my mate.
My mate would need someone to control.
My mate would need someone to manage.
My mate would need someone to care for.
“I will provide everything my mate needs, but to do that, I must research.”
The fates had put the sparkly dragon’s books in my path and I would do my best to honor the knowledge they had given me.
****
“You’re human, right?”
Screaming at him never helped.
Screaming at him never helped.
Screaming at him never helped.
“Have I started glowing in meetings?”
Fuck no. Because it was inappropriate to get turned on over married coworkers.
“Have I asked to bring in strange pets that could eat people?”
No. Because gators and things with jaws that big weren’t something we were supposed to bring to office parties.
“Have I sneezed and had half the electricity in the building go out?”
No. Because I knew how to stay away from people when I was fucking contagious.
“Have I asked to take full moons off and then give vivid descriptions of inappropriate things when I got back to work?”
No. Because I wasn’t an asshole who kept describing my neighbors’ body parts in settings where it was not in any way relevant.
“But are you human? I can’t tell.” My boss glanced down at something on his desk before focusing back on me. “They’ve accepted the sheriff like he’s a local, and from what I understand, he just curses at them right and left. I think sending humans might be safe now.”
For fuck’s sake.
The goddamned dragons.
Why couldn’t the fucking Bigfoot population have had a problem? They were always polite and well-fucking-mannered even if they showed up naked in weird places.
“How many times has HR told you to stop asking questions like that?” At least a dozen because nearly everyone in the office had gone and complained at least once.
The general consensus was that Mark came off speciesist every time he asked anything remotely like it, but I didn’t agree. I just thought he was a moron who could never get to the point in the right way and his rambling mess always sounded rude or insane.
“Fine.” His sigh said he still didn’t get why he kept getting in trouble…and under other circumstances I’d have agreed with him. People complained about ridiculous shit but he was ridiculous. “We’ve been asked to help them…with a situation.”
Had they kidnapped someone again?
Stolen another armored car?
Fucked with the weather instead of the flowers?
“They…” Wiggling in his seat like a toddler that needed to pee, Mark let out a deep breath. “They’re going to another planet.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Another planet?” He gave out tidbits of information in an insanely frustrating way, but he’d been doing it since I joined the unit six months ago, so I knew I had to wait him out.
“Yeah.” Wiggle. Sigh. Frown. “That portal thing is evidently active.”
Yeah, not a surprise…at least not to me.
I’d told him someone needed to check on that damned thing as soon as intel explained how long it’d been since anyone had gone up there to check on it. On the ground information was spotty at best but satellites didn’t lie and the locals hadn’t figured out a way to fuck with them yet.
“Active, huh?”
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
“Yeah.” More frowns and wiggles followed before he sat still and got to the point. “We’ve been told they’re going to head through it.”
Of course they were.
And we probably only knew about it because someone had been posting online again.
But we hadn’t gotten to the good part yet, so I was quiet and just waited.
Mark never started at a useful or logical point in any story.
“It’s short notice, but it seems like they finally realized that if aliens are involved, they should probably tell someone in the government.”
Wait.
Aliens?
Had they actually called the government to tattle on themselves this time?
Had we finally classified them as aliens?
Who was he calling aliens?
Who was they?
“What do you think?”
That I hadn’t been given nearly enough information.
Screaming wouldn’t help.
Screaming wouldn’t help.
Screaming wouldn’t help.
“Mark?” I waited until I was fairly certain his thoughts were focused on me and not anything else random or confusing. “I need you to think about the details that you’ve just shared.”
“Hmm?” Looking around, he started shifting through papers. “You usually have a point when you ask that question.”
God.
“Do you have on your suppressive device?”
I was not going to ask the fucking clairvoyant witch if he had on his amulet.
“I don’t…” Looking down at himself, he pulled his shirt away from his chest. “No.”
Well, that explained some of his distractibility.
Not all of it because he could pull this routine even when his mind was focused on the here and now, and not the when or where. But if I wasn’t going to let him ask me what species I was then I couldn’t ask him if he had ADHD.
“Are you allowed to ask that?” When he aimed his frown in my direction, I knew I wasn’t getting answers anytime soon. “If I can’t ask if you’re a human, why can you ask me about my assistive device?”
Because it was like talking to a high squirrel when he didn’t have it on.
“I have HR on speed dial.” And they were tired of hearing from me, but I wasn’t going to point that out. “We need to have a clear discussion about how we’re going to adjust monitoring on the dragons and the portal.”
And then we were going to have another discussion about when I could ask to be sent back to my old job because being voluntold for this one was going to give me a fucking stroke.
“That might be a good idea.” His foggy brain focused on his desk again, and I really hoped someone had given him clear instructions about what was going on. “If you’re going to another planet we need well-laid-out plans.”
What?
Mark finally smiled as his gaze came back to me. “I knew having someone with ambassadorial experience would come in helpful. I just didn’t know why.”
For fuck’s sake.
