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To Catch a Flieff (Part 2 of 2)

by Julia Rios

Three days later Alessia sipped tea by the circuit board, Mr Tumnus purring her lap. Things were going more smoothly than she might have feared. Too smoothly, if Alessia was being honest.

Darmanda was possibly the most considerate person she’d ever met, making sure to nap while Alessia was out and let her have the room—and bed—to herself when she came off shift. She even took care to exercise Fiona and tire her out, so she’d be quiet in her case while Alessia slept. And while Alessia was sure Arctic Flieffs must produce bodily waste, she’d never seen any evidence of that in her quarters. It was almost as convenient as living alone had been.

Alessia and Darmanda made a point of meeting up for meals at least once a day in the mess, for appearances.
They’d sit next to each other and sometimes Alessia would wrap one of Darmanda’s thick black curls around her finger. Or lay her head on Darmanda’s shoulder. Other times, Darmanda would rest a soft brown hand on Alessia’s knee. Gestures of affection they’d specifically discussed and given consent for in their initial negotiations talk, all designed to make them seem like a proper couple who were comfortable together.

It really was comfortable, and it was killing her.

Truth be told, it had been too long since she’d had a girlfriend. It would be nice to have a real date for Mizzentide. She had missed the way the rhythms of daily life changed when you had a partner, and the chemical boosts that came from physical contact. She wanted more of it. Which was preposterous since she didn’t actually know Darmanda at all, and they were definitely going to part ways and never see each other again when they docked on Vorpa in four days.

“Ugh, Mr Tumnus, I’m a mess,” she said.

Mr Tumnus continued purring.

“I’ll take that as a sign of agreement.”

The door chimed then, and Mr Tumnus jumped down, stretching his back legs out as he walked over to investigate while Alessia pushed the button to let her extremely fake and not real at all girlfriend in. “It’s just Darmanda coming to collect me for lunch,” she told the cat. “You know this.”

Mr Tumnus sniffed delicately and twined about Darmanda’s legs the second the door opened.

Darmanda crouched low and scooped the cat into her arms, cradling him against her chest as she stood. “Hello, kitty,” she said. “Busy workday?”

Mr Tumnus answered by butting his fluffy orange head against Darmanda’s chin.

“Yes,” Darmanda cooed. “Such a hard worker. You have earned many scritches.”

When he felt sufficiently adored, Mr Tumnus leapt down and found a corner in which to bathe himself.

“Ready for lunch?” Darmanda asked.

“Just a sec.” Alessia said without looking up. She made a few micro adjustments to the engine settings that were absolutely unnecessary, but at least they gave her something to do with her hands while she tried to pull herself together and not look as obviously into Darmanda as she felt.

When she finally turned around and stood up, she kept her face neutral. Which was hard because Darmanda looked even more adorable than usual. She’d been helping Ken-Val in the galley again, and there were streaks of flour in her hair, which was piled up in a loose knot. The coverall she’d borrowed from Alessia had a scorch mark on one arm that hadn’t been there before, and her skin was glowing in that way that spending the morning in a steamy kitchen made skin glow. She smelled of mint and Cryvlainian peppergrass. Comfort food smells. Alessia wanted to burrow into her the way Mr Tumnus had a moment before.

She had to focus on something else. Literally anything else. “Are we having dumplings? Please say yes.”

“Your wish is my command,” said Darmanda, laughing. And then they walked out into the hallway, hand in hand. It felt way too right.

“You know we don’t need to hold hands until we get out of the lift, really, if you don’t want to,” Alessia said.

“It’s good to be prepared, though don’t you think?” Darmanda countered.

Did Darmanda want more, too? Alessia couldn’t help wondering, but she also couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Instead, she blurted, “What are you going to do? When we dock?”

Darmanda stiffened, and their easy connection turned awkward in an instant.

“I’ll be out of your hair as soon as we touch land. You won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

She sounded small and sad, like someone who had been devalued and pushed away by people she loved over and over. Who had hurt this beautiful woman so badly? And how could Alessia make it better?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Alessia said.

“So, what did you mean?” Darmanda asked. The words were sharp and clipped, and she slid her hand out of Alessia’s and hunched her shoulders as though they were a shield around her.

“Just that it’s Mizzentide. It’s a time when everyone’s got family stuff going on, especially on an outpost planet like Vorpa. You shouldn’t be stranded without a place to stay.”

“So, you’re thinking of bringing me home to mama after all?”

Sarcasm, of course, and Alessia wished that didn’t bother her so much. But Darmanda was right. It was outlandish to think Alessia might really want to bring a stranger home after three days of fake dating, and even more outlandish to think that stranger would want to come.

So she backtracked, even though, yes, that was exactly what she had been starting to suggest.

“No, of course not. I just…I can help you find a hotel and stuff if you need it. Or a guide to take you and Fiona up to Vorpalix, I guess.”

“Oh, right,” Darmanda said. She no longer sounded sarcastic, but she still seemed shrunken into an invisible shell.

So that had gone well.

---

It was the sixth day when everything fell apart.

Darmanda knew she was on borrowed time, but even with a few bumps here and there, the week had flown by, and she’d felt something closer to true happiness here than she’d ever felt at home.

Ken-Val and the galley crew actually seemed to like having her around, whether she was helping or just playing cards in the downtime between meal prep rushes.

Alessia had been more than generous with the resources she had, sharing everything from her quarters to her clothes. On the fourth night she’d even shared her bed when Darmanda and come back earlier than usual from the galley. She’d started her shift early, and was exhausted from kneading dough for hours to make the special Mizzenloaf that needed seven separate rise cycles in one long day. Darmanda’s aching arms were a clear indication of why it was only ever made at the holiday.

She’d planned to set up a sleep sack on the floor next to Fiona, but Alessia had taken one look at her and lifted her covers.

“Come on,” she’d said. “You look dead on your feet.”

They’d spooned as they slept because there was no room to do anything less intimate, and just like that first day in the jumpseat, being held by Alessia felt right. Darmanda had tried to remind herself that it was out of necessity and not desire on Alessia’s part, but that didn’t stop her from feeling safe and warm and getting the best sleep she’d had for as long as she could remember. Of course, when she woke, Alessia had already gone, and their sleep schedules didn’t coincide again.

Still, they’d been easy with each other when they did meet, with no repeats of that mortifying time when Alessia had tried to be nice to her out of pity, and Darmanda had misread it and been a jerk. They’d settled it okay in the end. Alessia had made some joke about inviting Darmanda home for real, and Darmanda had at least had the presence of mind keep it to herself that she’d actually been fantasizing about that in a cheesy romcom vid kind of way.

Of course, Alessia hadn’t meant it. She’d just been trying to help Darmanda with logistics in a very practical way because she was a) an engineer, and b) just generally decent to everyone.
That was all.

Anyway, one more day and they’d dock on Vorpa and then…well, Darmanda didn’t know what then, but at least she’d have a little credit from her galley work, which Ken-Val insisted she take regular pay rate for.

Alessia was right about Ken-Val being the biggest gossip on the ship, but they were also kind. They could sense others’ moods and they used that power to make everyone feel at ease and valued. Everyone in the galley was kind, too, it seemed. It was so different than home.

Which was why it came as such a shock when the captain visited.

The shift started off well enough. They handled the dinner rush and then took out the Mizzenloaf, which had rested for a day after baking and was now ready to be decorated. Darmanda took glazing duty while Ken-Val worked on herb designs with two of the other galley crew.

Then came the surprise inspection.

First came an announcement over the PA system from Manny in the meal service bay. “Attention, galley crew,” he said. “Captain, incoming. I repeat, captain incoming. This is not a drill. It’s Mizzentide inspection time!”

The galley crew cheered, and Ken-Val, picking up on Darmanda’s confusion, said, “It’s an annual tradition. Every year on the last day, we have a Mizzentide banquet. That’s what the loaf is for. But we can’t have it until the captain inspects the galley and declares it an official holiday.”

“Oh,” Darmanda stood straighter and adjusted the drape of her coverall in an attempt to look more formal. “Do I need to do anything special?”

Ken-Val laughed. “Nah. It’s all in fun. The captain knows we run a tight ship. Just be ready to let them sample the glaze. The captain loves Mizzenloaf glaze.”

“I can do that,” Darmanda said. And since everyone else seemed happy and relaxed, she began to relax again herself.
Then the captain walked in.

“Oh snap,” Darmanda hissed.

The captain was the furry giant who had knocked her down in port. There was no mistaking it. The captain was at least eight feet tall, and covered in golden fur, with a sunset colored feather crest atop their head.

Maybe they won’t notice me, Darmanda thought. Maybe they won’t remember.

That turned out the be wishful thinking, because the second the captain looked in her direction, they let out a long low growl, followed by a series of grunts and trills, which the translator of Darmanda’s watch helpfully interpreted.

“You! You insulted us on the dock! And you are wanted for theft of a protected animal! Why are you aboard the Astral Dancer? Our ship does not harbor thieves!”

Ken-Val’s feelers undulated wildly, turning a green so bright it was almost yellow. They turned their eye stalks toward Darmanda. “Theft? Girrrrl, have you been holding out on me?” Their feelers quivered. “You have! But this story is not quite right. So what is the real story?”

“I can explain,” Darmanda said, though she knew deep down that she couldn’t, actually, when it came down to it. But maybe if she stalled enough a good cover story would present itself?

The captain stomped one furry foot and grunt-trilled, “You will explain! To the Interplanetary Trade Enforcers!” Then they turned to their lieutenant. “You, take this human to the brig immediately!”

---

Darmanda sat forlornly on a hard grey bench in a small grey cell. There was occasional chatter outside, but they had taken her watch so she couldn’t understand anyone unless they spoke her primary language, which apparently most of the crew here didn’t.

The last exchange she had understood was when Ken-Val had called out to her as she was being taken away. “I’ll tell Alessia, girl, don’t you fret!”

“Alessia?” The captain had growled. “Our engineer? What has she got to do with this criminal?”

Darmanda had groaned and lowered her head. She would’ve face-palmed, but her arms were restrained for her perp-walk to the brig.

The lieutenant had handed her over to a clerk, who’d processed her temporary incarceration without talking directly to her. He took her watch, scanned for any other devices, and put her into the holding cell. And there she’d been ever since.

Once again, it seemed that Darmanda had messed up her life, and this time it was worse than failing her exams. This time she’d managed to mess up someone else’s life, too. Alessia would probably lose her job and maybe even end up in prison, all because she had agreed to help Darmanda.

She didn’t know how long she sat there contemplating her mistakes and imagining dire possible futures. Life imprisonment, being sentenced to work on a mining colony, or (perhaps the worst fate) being sent back to her parents for house arrest and community service as a face of crime to scare children into being better than she was.

She was so absorbed in that last horrific daydream that she flinched when the buzzer sounded and her cell door opened.

Her heart leapt with joyful recognition and then plummeted into despair when she saw Alessia standing there. “They got you, too. I’m so sorry.”

Alessia stepped forward and pulled Darmanda into an embrace. “Shh, it’s okay,” she said loud enough so that the clerk, the captain, and Ken-Val, who was also there for some reason, could hear, and then she brushed her lips over Darmanda’s cheek and whispered into her ear, “Just go with it. Let me do the talking.”

Darmanda didn’t have time to process this before Alessia continued.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, sweetie,” Alessia said. “But I’ve explained now. Ken-Val told them you were my girlfriend, and they came to get me. I let them know about the wrongfully captured Arctic Flieff you had rescued from an unsanctioned breeder, and how we were planning to present her to the captain at the Mizzentide banquet so that they and their family could deliver her personally to the rewilding committee in Vorpalix. I think the captain wants to speak to you about that, actually.”

The captain nodded at the clerk, who handed Darmanda her watch. When Darmanda had snapped it into place and activated the translator, the captain cleared their throat and began a dramatic sequence of grunts and trills, accompanied by grandiose arm gestures.

“We are still angry that you insulted us in port, however we are willing to forgive this as we understand that you were concerned at the time for your precious cargo, the honored animal. Furthermore, we know now that you did not know who we were, and we are assured by our engineer, Alessia, that you would have shown proper respect and deference if you had, and that you were in fact bringing the animal specifically to us because you understood our position would provide the utmost wisdom on the rewilding process. Is this correct? Ken-Val will verify.”

Darmanda stared blankly, unable to wrap her head around that whole speech. The formality, the audacious pride. She almost wanted to laugh.

Alessia nudged her subtly in the ribs, and she coughed instead. Ken-Val would verify? That meant they must be there as a living lie detector test. Right.

“Um, yes, that is all correct. I was very worried for Fio—for the, uh, wrongfully captured Arctic Flieff. She is a member of a protected species, and I wanted to be sure she was in good health prior to her rewilding.”

All of that was true, at least, Darmanda thought. And from the way Ken-Val nodded at the captain, they could sense it, too.

“And?” the captain asked in a low growl.

Darmanda looked in confusion at Ken-Val, whose eye stalks were stretched as high as they could go—a sign she understood to mean that something more was expected of her right now, but what?

It was Alessia who came to her rescue. Again.

“You are extremely sorry about the insult, right?”

“Oh,” Darmanda said. “Yes, of course. I’m terribly sorry. I should not have done that.”

“You must tell us what we are certainly not, and to honor us, you must tell us what we are,” the captain grunted.

“I must what?” Darmanda looked at Alessia in desperation. “Help?”

“You have to do the formal Vorpan apology,” Alessia said, as if it should be obvious.

“Which is…?”

“Oh, right,” Alessia said. “I forgot you’ve never been and didn’t grow up with it. You have to say you are sorry and the captain is not whatever you said they were, and that they are something much better.”

“And you’d better make it really good, because they are not happy,” Ken-Val added.

Darmanda drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I insulted you. You are definitely not a, um, a big oaf.”

She tried to say it quietly, but everyone heard anyway, and Ken-Val gasped. “Girrrl, you did not!”

Darmanda cleared her throat. “So, I’m sorry for that. Um, and you are actually a tall and confident captain…”
Alessia nodded and gestured her to keep going.

“…who, uh, shows great wisdom…”

Another nudge in her ribs. How much more did she need to say?

“…and cares deeply for animals?”

“Is it a question or do you believe us to be caring?” the captain asked. And even though Darmanda didn’t understand Vorpan, she understood the seething tone of their trills.

“It’s not a question,” she amended. “You are a courageous and caring captain who is a friend to animals and beloved by their crew.”

Ken-Val whistled appreciatively. “Good save,” they said. “And I can sense you meant it.”

“Does it suffice?” Alessia asked the captain.

“It suffices,” the captain grunted. Then they clapped Darmanda on the back with one massive furry forepaw. “You are officially welcome aboard the Astral Dancer as our honored guest. Now we will discuss how to prosecute and punish this unsanctioned breeder.”

---

A few hours later, Alessia and Darmanda were back in Alessia’s quarters, preparing to attend the Mizzentide banquet.

“I think I’ll wear my planetside clothes for this,” Darmanda said. “It’s a special occasion, after all.”

“Just as long as we don’t have to chase down Fiona while you’re wearing those ridiculous shoes,” Alessia said.

“You should be nice about them,” Darmanda said. “You’re pretending to be head over heels for me, remember?”
Alessia flushed. “Pretending, right.”

“What is it?” Darmanda asked.

Alessia’s heart pounded. Was she really thinking about saying this? Yeah, it seemed she was.

“What if…we weren’t pretending?”

Darmanda dropped the bundle of clothes she had pulled from the shelf. “What do you mean?”

Alessia wished she could read the tone better, but Darmanda was too guarded. Well, she was either going to take the chance and possibly get to bring a real date home for Mizzentide, or chicken out and wonder forever about whether it could have worked.

And besides, if it didn’t, she could drink a bunch of wine at the banquet, sleep it off overnight, and then never have to see this woman she was “pretending to be” head over heels for ever again.

Which would be awful.

But it would be worse if she didn’t ask.

“I mean, I really like you, Darmanda. I think we could be a good couple. If you want to try.”

There was a horrible pause, during which Alessia thought maybe she had made a huge mistake. Darmanda stared at her like she was trying to calculate something in her head. The best way to let Alessia down gently, perhaps?

But then she took a step towards Alessia, and since the room was so small, that meant they were practically touching.

“Do you mean it?” Darmanda asked.

Alessia nodded.

“What if we’re not compatible? You barely know me.”

“I feel like I’ve known you forever, in a way,” Alessa said. “I know that’s weird, but it just feels right to be with you.”

“Right, yeah, I get that,” Darmanda said. “Should we try kissing? Just to check?”

Alessia moved a half step closer, so they were no longer almost touching. She traced her hand over Darmanda’s round cheek, and then fisted it in Darmanda’s glorious curls. Their mouths met, tentatively, with just lips first, then tongues teasing and dancing. It was better than Alessia had imagined, and she had imagined it would be really good.

She moaned softly and pulled Darmanda hard up against her, reveling in the feel of her body. Darmanda lifted one leg and hooked it around Alessia’s waist, straining to get closer. It was everything.

Alessia staggered a little as she attempted to meld completely with Darmanda, and there was an exasperated string of chitters and whuffs from Fiona’s case, which it turned out she’d nearly stepped into. Oops.

Reluctantly they broke the kiss and moved apart.

“I don’t think we’re incompatible,” Alessia said.

“No,” Darmanda agreed. “We’re definitely not incompatible.”

---

The mess was packed for the banquet. Everyone was there, even Mr Tumnus, who had a special cat feast all to himself at ground level. All the rest of the foods were laid out along the service bay, buffet style, and the Mizzenloaf was the centerpiece of the head table.

Now that Darmanda had been cleared of thievery charges and insulting the captain, she and Alessia were invited to dine at that head table, along with Ken-Val and the rest of the galley crew. The Mizzentide banquet was galley’s big show, so they were traditionally honored during the celebration.

After due consideration by all parties, they’d decided the best course of action for Fiona would be to leave her in Alessia’s quarters until the Astral Dancer had docked. No need to risk another bout of fluffy mayhem in the banquet hall.

It was a night of feasting and merriment, with many toasts to the Astral Dancer as a whole and to every person aboard it individually. When it came time for her to make a toast, she raised her glass high and said, “To Ken-Val, who welcomed me into the galley with warmth and friendship.”

“To Ken-Val!” everyone echoed.

“And to Alessia, who takes us all exactly where we need to go, and who is worth far more than her weight in gold.”

“Alessia!” Glasses clinked; wine was sipped.

Then Ken-Val said slyly, “My dear Darmanda, what a delicious toast. Would you say Alessia is worth her weight in…cheese?”

“Ken-Val, I will get you back for this,” Alessia sputtered. But she was laughing, and she didn’t really sound angry.

Darmanda set her glass down in confusion. “Will someone please explain what in the multiverse this whole cheese thing is about?”

“It was ONE time!” Alessia said. “Anyone could have made the same mistake.”

“Anyone could have, but you did,” said Ken-Val.

“Not such a terrible mistake,” the captain trilled. “We had many delicious dairy based meals because of Alessia. Also, we made sure to hire a proper bursar after, which was a good choice for our ship.”

Darmanda looked from Alessia to Ken-Val to the captain, and then back to Alessia. “I still don’t understand.”

“I’m an engineer, okay. That’s the first thing to know. Not a bursar, not a banker, certainly not a cheesemonger…”

“She’s right that anyone could have made the same mistake,” Ken-Val added. “I once ordered an inexpensive amber and got lager instead of a precious gem.”

“So what…happened?” Darmanda asked.

“It was my first multi jump trip, and we had to clear out of a floating station in a very limited window,” Alessia said. “I was worried about portjams and the possibility of getting slammed by the next scheduled ship to jump in.”

“Very reasonable to fear this. Our engineer has a good head for practical concerns,” said the captain.

“So I decided to hurry through the payment for our trade drop. The buyer offered to pay in gold, which I assumed was a good deal…”

“Yes?” Darmanda asked, afraid she knew where this was going.

“And then the eleven crates of golden cheddar arrived at the dock,” Alessia said. She laughed so hard then that she snorted.

“Oh snap,” Darmanda said. “That’s a lot of cheddar. Couldn’t you return it?”

“No time,” said Alessia. “Plus, I had signed the trade agreement with the full authority of the Astral Dancer. It’s hard to go back on that kind of commitment.”

“What did you do with it all?”

“We didn’t have room in the galley, so we had to line the subdeck corridors with cheese crates,” Ken-Val said.

“It was a sweet workout, though,” Manny chimed in. “Lots of squats and lifts. Good crossfit.”

“The look on Alessia’s face when she saw those crates!” Ken-Val said, cackling.

“What I remember best was the captain trying to make me feel better,” Alessia said between guffaws. “‘Yes, Alessia, we do enjoy cheese. Perhaps we will have a soufflé or two…hundred. That will be pleasant.’”

Everyone roared at that, and Alessia raised her glass. “To cheese!”

“Cheese!” cried the banqueters. And after they drank, Alessia rested her head on Darmanda’s shoulder, like they’d practiced so many times this week. But this time it wasn’t for show.

Before long, they went back to Alessia’s quarters and fell into the one bed together. When Alessia took the part of big spoon and encircled Darmanda in her arms, it wasn’t just to save space.

“Definitely not incompatible,” Darmanda murmured as she drifted off to sleep.

From her case in the corner, Fiona whuffed a sigh of agreement.

---

Host Commentary

Once again, that was part two of “To Catch a Flieff”, by Julia Rios.

One of the most relatable parts of a romance, to me, is the uncertainty that arises from an embarrassed refusal to communicate. We can just ask how someone feels, what they’re thinking, but all too often we’re afraid of the answers to those questions, afraid that they might lead to rejection. Instead, we look for hints and clues, reading the tea leaves of a smile or a particular turn of phrase. In this story, the difficulty level is increased because the characters are supposed to be faking all those signs that indicate interest and affection, leading to extra confusion and doubt. As it turns out, using one’s words clearly and directly solves not only the problem with the captain that could have ended very badly, it ultimately allows the fake relationship to become a real one. A happily ever after that ends, dare I say it, in the cheesiest way possible? Delicious.

Escape Pod is part of the Escape Artists Foundation, a 501(c)(3) non-profit, and this episode is distributed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International license. Don’t change it. Don’t sell it. Please do share it.

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And our closing quotation this week is from Gabby Rivera, who said: “To love another woman is to look at yourself in the mirror and determine that you are worthy of the galaxy and its fury.”

Thanks for joining us, and may your escape pod be fully stocked with stories.