Mission Mistletoe (3 page)

“For Christmas. From you.” Nadine sighed. “Well….”

“Would this not be good for relations?”

“What kind of relations?” asked Nadine, eyeing him. “I wouldn’t say the captain would be too pleased if you surprised him in front of the crew, even if it was for Christmas.”

Ilin stared at her blankly.

“The crew?” she repeated. “You aren’t inviting guests to this surprise party?”

Ilin did not know what to say to that, so he remained silent. He had not been considering this to be a community party, after all, but rather something intimate with the captain. He had thought he could get away with that as an ambassador.

“Oh, Jhex… he’s going to get a certain impression if you set up something like that and it’s just the two of you.”

“I know,” he said, to make it obvious he understood. It was, after all, his intention.

She looked for a moment like she was about to explain to him exactly what she meant before realizing that he really did know.

“Well.” Nadine paused, an action Ilin found interesting. Usually she knew what to say right away. “You want him to think that?”

“Of course. It would be too much effort if it weren’t the case, wouldn’t it? We both have so much work to do.”

“Well,” said Nadine again, smiling awkwardly. She stood and took up her cloth and spray bottle. “I’m not much of a matchmaker, Jhex. But I can get you some cookies. Just don’t ask me what else to do, okay?”

He had not been planning to, but he nodded anyway.

“Thank you,” he said. “Shall I pick them up?”

“I’ll bring them by,” she said. “Christmas is in a few days, so expect them then.” She rolled her eyes as he opened his mouth. “Yes, I’ll figure out what the captain likes.”

I
T
WAS
too late to be buzzing at anyone’s door, and certainly not the ambassador’s, but Archer felt uncomfortable with his feelings around the Nler’sh’eh. Taking an irregular action gave him a sense of control of the situation. If he could interrupt Jhex’s sleep, he could resist him. Archer knew the thought made little sense, but he needed it. The assignment was already too close to failure without him completely ruining it by making a move on an alien official. He closed his eyes at the horror of the mess
that
would create.

“Captain!” said Jhex, answering the door quickly despite it being nearly one in the morning. He sounded as awake and upbeat as earlier. Archer wanted to hit him. Or kiss him. And he could do neither.

“I should apologize for how late it is,” he began, but Jhex was stepping back.

“Unnecessary,” he said. “Do come in.”

Archer hesitated but gave in, noticing Jhex beaming at him. He would just have to not look at the ambassador and hope that would help.

As he stepped inside he glanced around, surprised at how quickly Jhex had filled the space in the span of only a few weeks. He had certainly been producing a lot of art. Paintings were hung on or stacked against walls, something unidentifiable made from cloth and stuffed near to bursting lay on the couch like an oversized pillow, and sculptures dotted every surface, some wood, some clay, some metal. The works seemed to swirl and crackle yet remain calm, almost simplistic.

“Your artwork… is very interesting, Ambassador,” said Archer. “Not a style I’m familiar with.”

“It is Nler’sh’eh, more specifically based on a style called Lex’sh’in originating in the Iri continent on the southern hemisphere of Nleri’xh, although it is not strictly limited to the area. It
is
somewhat of an outdated style, but I’ve found myself drawn to it since I was a child.”

Archer did not like where this conversation was going. Jhex sounded as though he would talk for hours about his art and its origins, and Archer did not particularly care to know. More than that, he was certain it would make him want the ambassador more, and that was the last thing he needed.

“I’m not here to discuss art, I’m afraid,” he said. When he looked over at Jhex, the ambassador had that hint of a smile on his face again.

“Come, sit,” said Jhex, indicating a comfortable chair near the couch.

Archer hesitated again, ultimately deciding, as he had when he had entered, that he would just have to cope. He could make this quick.

“Something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” he said as Jhex sat across from him and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, closing much of the distance between them.

“The maintenance,” said the ambassador, nodding. “How is it coming?”

Archer looked into his eyes, trying to determine whether Jhex was intentionally speaking like that or he was reading too much into everything. He had been up over twenty hours now, so it was much more likely his mind was overreacting. The ambassador’s speech patterns were not completely seamless.

“We’ll be ready to continue on in the morning,” he said.

Jhex smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Then we will not have to decide whether to miss out.”

Archer frowned at that smile, rather than lean forward and kiss it.

“Unfortunately, no. We’ll have to make extended stops on colony planets or take time along our course to continue maintenance. You won’t be getting to all your destinations, Ambassador.”

Jhex did not appear the least bit disappointed at that. Archer did not know what to think but did know he was maintaining eye contact for too long. He tore his eyes from the ambassador and focused on the far wall, which was currently displaying an image of a supernova.

“So, as you have a schedule to keep, we’re going to have to cut out a few places. Which colonies were you least interested in?”

“How honest do you want me, Captain Pfeil?”

For a moment Archer considered turning the ambassador’s words back on him and telling him to call him by his first name, then thought better of it. Jhex’s behavior did not give him leave to act similarly. He held back, an action that forced out a sigh, and he allowed himself to rub at his temples.

“Be as honest as you’d like, Ambassador.”

“Please,” said the Nler’sh’eh again. “Jhex. Unless you would like me to insist on you saying my first name.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Archer, unable to stop himself. “You know my people would be furious if I wasn’t at least a little formal with you.”

“Then don’t force me to make it a threat,” said Jhex, and Archer swallowed.

This, this was what made him uneasy, hot, his pulse rate tick up. Interacting with Jhex was so much like having a bit of charged back and forth that it was difficult not to believe that the ambassador wanted to end up in bed with him. But Archer reminded himself that was unlikely. Just a result of his recent disappointments. There was no need to overreact to an alien’s attempts to blend in with Terrans, particularly if it meant further disasters in his own personal life.

“Then I’ll hear what you have to say, Jhex.”

The ambassador was playing with the gauzy part of his attire.

“In all honesty, I’m not particularly interested in your colonies,” he said, and Archer blinked, a bit taken aback. “I’ve already seen four, and no doubt you’re only instructed to show me the best examples. I’d tell you to choose whatever you wanted when it came to cutting out stops, but for that we both know you’d eliminate the worst examples, those you want me to see least. I could ask you for your opinion, and then, when you gave it, insist on seeing those colonies, but I have no wish to play that game with you. Not that game.”

“I’ll need you to give me a list anyway,” said Archer, trying to ignore just how Jhex’s words stirred him. “So I don’t end up cutting out the worst we have to offer.”

“Are you offended, Captain?”

Jhex was smiling that damned smile again, like he was teasing rather than asking a serious question, and the worst part was that Archer had no idea whether he was actually intending to be that way. He smoothed out his face somewhat.

“Only that you’re reluctant to tell me which stops to cut. It may not matter much to you, Jhex, but I’m the one who has to reregister our flight plan.”

“And make the excuses, no doubt,” said Jhex, nodding. “I will send to my people too. I wouldn’t want you to have difficulties over this.”

Archer opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again.

“Thank you,” he said.

Jhex looked pleased.

“When shall I get back to you about the destinations?”

“As soon as you can. Until then, we’ll make our scheduled stop on Arctos, assuming that’s not an issue for you.”

Jhex shrugged.

“I’ll go wherever you take me,” he said, and it was all Archer could do to hold back a sigh.

Jhex was not just stubborn, he was stubbornly indecisive. It was a trait that made him want to grab him and demand he make up his mind at penalty of allowing Archer his way. The things he would do if the ambassador let him have his way….

He noticed Jhex was standing, moving away, and he twisted in his seat to look after him. The ambassador returned with one of his sculptures, a smooth, twisted thing made of clay and covered in blue-black glaze, ever so slightly speckled, as though of a universe just out of reach. He presented it to Archer, who stared from it to Jhex’s shining eyes.

“Very nice,” he said, not wanting to engage in this but thinking he needed to go along with some of the ambassador’s suggestions lest he become disagreeable in Jhex’s eyes. And Archer very much needed to not screw up this assignment.

“You don’t even know what this is, Captain,” said Jhex, words soft.

Archer frowned.

“You could tell me,” he said. His closest guess was a vase of some sort, without an opening. Could that sort of thing still be a vase? He wasn’t about to play guessing games with alien art.

Jhex offered it to him, and Archer took it, surprised by how heavy it was.

“The Nler’sh’eh make certain records of their emotions from time to time. This is traditionally done through art form, although it is not as popular as it once was.”

“And you’re very into tradition, are you, Jhex?”

“You could use Ilin too, if you wanted. It’s more intimate.”

Archer swallowed. He preferred the art lesson to this.

“I’m afraid I really shouldn’t refer to you in an intimate manner, Ambassador,” he said, and thought he saw a look of irritation cross Jhex’s face, just for a moment. Then the alien leaned forward and cupped his hands over Archer’s, pressing his fingers against the sculpture.

“I’m showing you so that you
understand
, Captain. Art is not just to be seen. Close your eyes. What do you feel when you run your fingers across it? When you lose yourself to the piece? That is the documentation of the spirit. If you had better hearing, there would be another dimension to it for you too.”

Archer did as Jhex said, thinking the best way to get out of here and to a cold shower was to go along with it, not to mention his current mood would be too conspicuous if he stood. His body liked Jhex’s firm, gentle touch too much. Jhex’s hand fell away from Archer’s own, and he thought he heard the ambassador stand. Archer tried to focus his mind on the fired clay, the smoothness that was textured now that he concentrated.

“This is what is lost with distance,” said Jhex, now behind Archer, very close. He opened his eyes and turned to see the Nler’sh’eh standing behind him. His heart raced. He needed to leave. But Jhex was reaching over his shoulder to press the sculpture more tightly into his hand.

“Ambassador,” he said, but Jhex frowned at him. It was an actual frown. Archer decided he had better stay put.

“We need to understand each other to work together. Give this a few minutes, Captain. What do you feel?”

Archer sighed and closed his eyes, went back to concentrating on the piece of art. It was more textured than he had first thought, ridges and swirls set into it in a way that the glaze had completely hidden from sight. He was impressed. He relaxed into it, feeling further.

“I like it,” he said. He could feel Jhex hovering behind him too close now. His gauzy garments were brushing along Archer’s shoulders. He tried to ignore it.

“Why?”

“You couldn’t tell the depth just by looking at it.”

Archer ran his fingers over the top, locating a hollow he had not seen before either. It was shallow but completely smooth. It occurred to him that this was crazy, letting an alien he very much wanted to bed show him artwork in the middle of the night. He wasn’t even interested in the arts. But this piece he liked. It soothed him to some extent, so much so that when Jhex rested his hands on the back of his neck he sat there stupidly, letting the ambassador caress him like he was fondling the clay.

Jhex’s fingers were gentle, careful but determined. They traveled up the back of his neck to the base of his skull, pressing just hard enough to feel good, then back down to his shoulders. Archer hadn’t had a massage in so long, and he was so tired, the tension so knotted in his shoulders, that he simply leaned into it, relaxing under the talented fingers. Jhex began rubbing the stress out of him, arousing him further, and Archer couldn’t bring himself to stop it.

“And what do you feel now?”

Jhex speaking was enough to bring him to his senses. Archer’s eyes snapped open as he realized what exactly was happening. He was allowing an ambassador to touch him in a way that turned him on. He was so far into the unprofessional, unacceptable range that he tensed up again and pulled away.

“Shit,” he muttered, standing and setting the sculpture down where he had been sitting. Jhex was staring at him, hands still raised. He couldn’t know what he was doing. Archer couldn’t believe he understood what he was doing. That would mean… he didn’t know what. He was too tired to think. He needed that cold shower.

Jhex opened his mouth to speak, hands descending to his sides.

“Thank you for the art lesson,” said Archer before the ambassador could get a word out. “And I think I ought to let you know—you shouldn’t touch people like that. Terrans. It….” As Archer struggled for a way to explain what had happened to the Nler’sh’eh so that he would not go on to get himself into a situation with anyone else on the ship, Jhex met his eye.