Chapter Thirteen

Trying his best to hide his exhaustion, Victus held his hand over the elevator door’s sensor and gallantly allowed Lucas to precede him into the foyer leading to their room. Compounding his emotional turmoil, the strain of maintaining constant vigilance while traveling nearly a million miles over the past forty hours had left Victus feeling skittish and wary.   

All either man wanted to do at that point was to climb into bed and sleep undisturbed for the next solar cycle, but the oily reek of French perfume oozing out of the negin’s suite stopped Lucas in his tracks before his hand even touched the lock. “Oh, Jesus,” he muttered, ears flattening against his head. “Only Mal could stink up the place from ten thousand miles away.”

“I understand how you feel,” Victus said, his nose wrinkled in disgust, “but our options are limited.”

Lucas backed slowly away from the room, shaking his head apologetically.  “I can’t do this, man. I know you’re tired, but…”

“I know.” Victus nodded, his shoulders falling a bit with fatigue. “I couldn’t sleep in there either.”  He gathered his resolve and set a path in his mind. “Let’s grab a change of clothes and find somewhere else to sleep tonight.  We’ll get this sorted out tomorrow.”

Breathing as shallowly as possible, they made a quick run through their room, stuffing clothes and a few essential toiletries into their bags as they went.  On the way out, they passed the remnants of the shattered perfume bottle which gave mute testimony to Negin Mal’s last nervous tantrum.  Victus felt fortunate that the closed door between the common room and their own had kept most of the stench away from their belongings.  

As they passed the empty concierge desk situated between the two cabin doors, Lucas had an idea.  “Maybe we could just ask the little guy for another room.  They must have an empty one somewhere.”  He looked behind him and waved at the security camera. “Hello!  Passengers in need, here!”

Victus stopped him with an arm on his shoulder.  “I may have another idea.”  He handed his duffel to Lucas, squared his shoulders, walked to the door on the other side of the desk and knocked.  From inside, he heard two men’s voices.  

The deeper one sounded cranky. ““Why do we have to eat in the dining room again?”  

The sapiens voice got louder as its owner moved closer to the door. “Because the chef promised us he’d make you extra-large portions from now on, and if he’s going to go through all that trouble we can’t just not show up. Besides, Lucas is free now, and we’re celebrating with them.”

The door swung open to reveal a surprised-looking Dan Blocker.  “Hey! Speak of the devil!”

The Kenzine Protector facing Dan looked decidedly wary. “Are you now, or have you ever been, employed by a Galesian House?”

Dan looked at him oddly.  “That’s a really weird question, Vic, but the answer is no. “

No matter how bizarre their lives had become lately, Victus knew he would eventually have to stop looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t think so, but…” He sighed and allowed his guard to drop. “It’s been a really strange day.”  The lupine looked at him for a moment, then relaxed, “Can I talk to you both for a moment?”

“Sure.”  Dan opened the door.  “Mi casa es su casa.”

Bo walked out of the bedroom, talking around his fingers as he worked a string of dental floss between his pearly canine teeth.  “Ay, ick.”

“Hello Bo,” Victus answered, giving the man a small wave before turning his attention back to Dan.  “I know this is unusual, but-” he was cut off by Lucas’ entrance.  

“Bo!” Striding through the open door, the younger varius had a military-style duffle bag slung over one shoulder.  “Hey, roomie!” He held one handpaw up for a high-five, which Bo happily returned.  

“Hey!” Bo said, looking somewhat surprised but pointing to the bedroom next to theirs without a second thought.  “Stow your shit in there.”

Victus looked stunned.  “I haven’t asked them yet!” he protested.  

“But Dan said his house was ours. I heard him.”  Lucas turned to face the other canine, his tail swaying back and forth with temporarily renewed energy.  “It’s okay, right?” he asked confidently, looking at Bo for confirmation.  

Before Bo could answer either way he was interrupted by an exasperated Kenzine.  “Bo’s not the only person here, Lucas!  It would be nice to ask Dan what he thinks before you just move yourself in.”

“I’m not moving myself in,” Lucas said, reasonably.  “I’m moving you in. This is all your stuff.  Mine’s still in the hall.”  He turned and walked into the room Bo had indicated. “Hey, look!” his voice floated out to them, “You can see the water slide from here!”

Victus put fingers to the sides of his neck and sought out the pressure points which would ease the growing knot of tension forming behind his eyes.  “Dan,” he said, calmly, “We know it’s your honeymoon and this is impossibly rude to ask...”

Dan smiled gently. He could smell whiffs of the negin’s cologne through Bo’s nose and felt the adverse reaction it gave his mate.  It was easy to guess what their two new friends wanted.  “Don’t worry about it, Vic.  You’re welcome here.”  He motioned toward the cabin door. “Let’s go get the rest of your stuff.”

“We’ll be back in a minute!” Dan called over his shoulder, but Bo barely heard him.  He was listening with keen-eyed interest while Lucas recounted the details of their escape.

“It’s an amazing story,” Dan said, hoping that Victus might share a few details of his own.  “We saw it on the vid. I think everyone on board did.  Once it was over, every news channel in the system couldn’t wait to show the footage.”  When Victus remained quiet, Dan asked, “So is Lucas okay?”

Victus pressed his finger against the door lock and it slid open to reveal the negin’s cluttered and foul-smelling room. "He's fine,” he said, after a moment.  “He’s amazingly resilient, even for a varius. No matter what life throws at him, he seems to bounce right back.”

Dan nodded, but most of his attention was on trying to find one of the room’s environment controllers. Three were missing, but one was still in the charging dock. He pulled it out, set the room’s ventilation system to ‘scrub,’ then carefully replaced it.  “Where are the others?” Dan asked, his eyes wandering over the general clutter.

“The house employees were all down on Luna.  I didn’t see any of them on our tender, so they won’t be back on board for a few minutes, at least. ” He motioned toward the bedroom he shared with Lucas. “Let’s make this quick.”

Victus traveled light and Lucas owned virtually nothing but the shirt on his back, so there was little in the room to pack. “Dan?” the varius asked, as he rifled through the end table drawers. “May I ask a favor of you?”

The sudden formality caught Dan off guard.  “Sure.” he stopped what he was doing and rested his satchel on the bed.

The Kenzine reached over and took the sack out of Dan's hands, then pulled a chair from the corner and dragged it near to the foot of the bed. “Can we talk for a moment? Just you and me? In private?”

Something in Victus’ voice caught Dan's attention. The Kenzine’s speech patterns had been stiff and formal up to now, as if Universal English were not his first language. Now, he sounded more like he was using formal mode, the stilted pattern of speech varii used when they wanted to talk about a potentially touchy subject, but didn’t feel they knew you well enough just to blurt out a question. Varius culture was so filled with overlapping customs and traditions that the only way to keep from inadvertently stepping on feelings was to take great care in establishing the boundaries ahead of time.

When a Varius spoke to you in the formal mode you stopped what you were doing and paid attention, because for good or ill, things were about to get serious. “You may,” Dan responded, with solemn care. He reached his mind out to his mate, then smiled when he saw through their bond that Bo was in their bathroom with Lucas, repeatedly flushing the toilet to see which direction the water swirled. He quietly shut the mental door between them and returned his attention to Victus. “You have my full attention.”  

Most varii favored physical proximity, but Dan was well aware that Victus was not “most varii.” He sat on the edge of the bed, careful to maintain a respectful distance between himself and the wolf. ”What’s on your mind?”

Victus was a man of action, and feeling uncertain unsettled him. “May I speak freely and not cause offense?”

“Sure, Vic-” Dan caught himself mid-sentence and re-phrased. “I mean, yes you may.” His expression was open, but cautious.  “But remember that Bo’s eventually going to know whatever you say to me.”

“Of course,” Victus said, his discomfort eased somewhat by Dan’s honesty.  “I’m not asking you to keep secrets or anything like that. I just wanted your undivided attention for a few minutes.”

Dan seemed to understand, so he continued.

“You and Bo have a rather...unique bonding situation, yet you have seemingly overcome the obstacles in your path. You may be able to help with the challenges that Lucas and I face. May I discuss our bonding situation with you?”

Dan shrugged, then belatedly hoped that the Kenzine had not found the expression offensive. “You may.  I will help you as much as I can.” He looked around them expressively. “Given our circumstances, of course.  But, can we please speak freely?”

Victus nodded quietly. He had spent much of his life surrounded by the hedge of formality provided by association with the Kenzine order. That formality was a way to differentiate himself from those who did not share his rigorous sense of discipline. After a lifetime of excruciatingly correct grammar he should have found the varius formal mode as comfortable as a second skin, yet tonight he found it so disconcertingly restrictive that he gladly abandoned it.  “I am...concerned that Lucas might not always find me as interesting as he does now. He is so much younger than I, and he’s so full of life and energy that...” he paused for a moment, aware that he was telling their story to a virtual stranger. “What if he doesn’t truly want to bond with me, Dan?”  He stood and shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and distracted himself by checking the closet shelves for anything they’d left behind.  

“What I know about bonding could fit comfortably inside the belly button of a flea,” Dan admitted.

“Fleas don’t have belly buttons,” Victus reminded him.

“Exactly,” Dan nodded his head. “But still, I don’t do too badly with relationship advice. One of the things I’ve learned is that it’s sometimes hardest to see what’s right in front of your face.  “You don’t have to worry,” Dan said, reassuringly.  “You might not be able to see how Lucas looks at you, but I can.”

Victus nodded his understanding, but remained silent. Although Dan had offered no concrete help, knowing that someone else cared about his problems was a balm of sorts.

“Is that everything?” Dan asked, after a moment.

“Regarding our possessions, or my love life?” Victus quipped.  “I think we’ve got everything, unless Lucas wants to come back in and swipe the shampoo.”

Dan smiled, but made no move toward the door.  He suspected that Victus had more to say but was uncertain how to proceed. “What are you going to do now that Lucas is free?”

“I don’t know,” Victus admitted.  “We’ve got some choices to make.”  He put the sack of clothes on the bed and sat down next to it, curling his tail beneath him  “The abbot offered me a teaching position at the abbey, and I’d be a fool to turn something like that down. It’s a huge promotion.” He looked around them as if he were looking at the walls of the Mal estate.  “There’s nothing holding me here, now.  I guess we might as well just go back to the surface while we’re here.”

Dan chuckled.  “I keep forgetting that this isn’t a vacation for you.”

“If it were, it was the most stressful vacation of my life,” the lupine shook his head, suddenly looking exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

“So why not stay on board now that the stress is gone?” Dan suggested.  “Everything’s already been paid for. How often do you get a chance to do something like this, anyway?”

“I don’t know...” Victus wanted very much to believe that it was even possible for him to have a vacation.  He wanted to be like everyone else on the ship, unconcerned about anything more significant than whether his next meal was going to come from the buffet or the dining room.  He wanted to relax for a few days with his mate.   He wanted, at least for a short time, to feel as if he were normal.  And at that instant, he made his decision.

“Yes,” he said, his mind made up.  “I’m tired of always having to be responsible.” He picked up the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, looking to Dan as if a hundred kilos had been lifted from his shoulders.  “Let's round up the boys and go get a snack.”

***

"Look at that!"  Lucas stood transfixed in front or the store window.  "I want it!"

VIctus drew up next to him. "Charming," he drawled, "but what are you going to do with a skirt?"

Bo stopped on Luke's other side.  "It's not a skirt," he said derisively, waving a finger at the outfit hanging on a mannequin.  "It's one of those Irish...things."

Although Bo's tone was brusque, Dan took it as a good sign. Bo only bothered to be nice with people he didn't trust.  "It's not Irish," he said, peering over Lucas' shoulder. "It's Scottish."

"It's a kilt!"  Lucas was completely unable to mask his excitement.  

"That answers one question," Victus allowed, "but perhaps a more pertinent one is, why do you want one?"

Lucas sounded scandalized. "Why wouldn't I want one?"  He puffed his chest out, proudly. "I'm a MacKenzie, for the love of God!" Decision made, he shouldered his way around Bo and made his way to the store's entrance, calling behind him as he went. "See if you can explain it to him."

"You don't have any money," Victus called in return. "How do you think you’re going to purchase it?"

Lucas turned and, with a wicked grin, brandished a familiar-looking plastic rectangle.  

Now it was Victus who sounded scandalized. "You can't use the negin's card!"

"Why not?" Lucas challenged.  "It's not like he's using it."

When Victus shot him a disapproving look, Lucas' voice sharpened. "That pussbag sent me to a death match!  The least he can do is buy me a fucking kilt!"  

Victus considered the matter and decided the morality of their situation outweighed the legality by a considerable margin. "Buy a good pair of shoes, while you're in there,” he conceded. “Yours aren't fit to burn."

***

"Are you ready to go?" Lucas shifted back and forth in front of the large three-paned mirror, admiring the way the pleats of the kilt accented the curve of his tight rump, and how the ship's tailor had cut the tail-hole in the perfect spot so that it didn't bind or chafe.

Victus looked up from smoothing his new teacher’s robes.  "Aren't you forgetting something?" he smirked.

"Oh, right." Lucas leaned over and kissed his mate on the nose. "Mmmmwah! "  He looked satisfied. "Ready now?"

Victus chuckled. and dried the tip of his nose with the back of a hand. "Pleasant, to be certain, but not what I meant." He stepped back. "Aren't you forgetting your pants?"

Lucas laughing openly at him was not what the wolf expected.

"What pants? You don't wear pants with a kilt!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm even wearing it in the regimental style."

Taking another step back, Victus examined Lucas's outfit from a different perspective.  "Oh!"  He pointed to the dirk strapped to Lucas's calf.  "I suppose that wearing your weapon exposed makes more sense than having to scrabble for it when you need it most."  He looked back and did a double-take. “What is that?” He pointed at Lucas’ waist, where what appeared to be a dead rabbit was suspended by a pair of sturdy silver chains.

“It’s a sporran.”

“A what?” Victus asked, perplexed.

“A sporran.  It’s..” he considered for a moment.  “It’s a coin purse.”

Victus accepted this with a quirked eyebrow. “You keep your spare change inside a mummified rabbit?“ The thought that his mate was carrying a purse in any form was vaguely unsettling. “The tall socks still look funny."

"I didn't have a lot to do with that choice," Lucas said, grimly.  "This is the way a formal kilt has looked for the past couple of thousand years. " He waved at Victus' garb. "Why do you have to wear red all the time?  Blue would look better on you."

"If it were blue," Victus said, professorially, "it wouldn't be a Kenzine robe."

"And if I wore pants, it wouldn't be a kilt."

"Point taken," Victus said.  "Where are Bo and Dan?"

"They're meeting us there," Lucas said, ushering his partner out the door. "Dan said they might be a few minutes late.  Bo split a seam in his pants."

Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the formal dining room, but their companions had yet to arrive, and Victus was becoming concerned.  "How big a seam did he split?  Are you certain he said to meet here?"

A hint of exasperation tinged Lucas' voice.  "For the third time, yes, he-"  The canine cut himself off, suddenly realizing what was happening.  He smiled, warmly.  "You really like Dan, don't you?"

Victus' tail instantly ceased its nervous batting against the wall behind them. "He’s easy to talk to.”

With an indulgent sigh, Lucas reached behind his mate and grabbed his tail, waving it back and forth for him.  "Keep going," he encouraged.  "You don't need to be embarrassed by making a friend, you know."

The lupine didn't know what to say, so he settled for putting a handpaw on Lucas' shoulder and allowing his tail to wag.

Before the moment could get sappy, Clay suddenly ran around the corner like a guided missile headed straight for Lucas, followed closely by the gaggle of children. "You're full of scat!" one of them spat.

"I am not!" Clay said, defiantly.  "I saw it in a book, and I'll prove it!"

Lucas felt proud of the young boy.  He'd followed his advice and talked to the other children, and now he had a cluster of friends.  Friends who were following him to where the two varii were standing.  He was glad to see his advice had helped and reached out to put a fatherly hand on the young man's back.  But Clay's back wasn't there.  He'd bent over, and when he stood upright, the hem of a kilt held firmly in one small fist, a cool breeze washed over Lucas's nether regions.

"See?" Clay proudly announced to his friends, "I told you so."  

The canine's handpaws flew down to push the pleats of his new kilt back into position in a vain attempt to restore his modesty.  "Boundaries, Clay!" he shouted, aghast. "Boundaries!"

As quickly as they'd arrived, the now-giggling children disappeared, leaving an embarrassed Lucas and a stunned Victus in their energetic wake.

"You're not wearing any undergarments!" Victus hissed. He was not a prude - some of the most rigorous martial training forms were practiced in the nude. He simply had never imagined that his mate would go to a formal dinner with his bits jangling about loose.

"Of course not," Lucas replied, adjusting the hem of his kilt back to where it belonged. "I told you I was going regimental."

Victus pinched the bridge of his nose, reminding himself what a foolish thing it was to assume. "I thought that meant you were carrying a weapon underneath your skirt!"

Lucas smirked in the dirtiest possible manner. "It does."

***

The faces of the people surrounding them in the formal dining room beamed with a relaxed good cheer that Victus could not begin to emulate.   He had thought the ship felt small when they’d boarded almost a week ago, but now it seemed positively claustrophobic. Over and over again he found himself tallying threat values, and over and over again he forced himself to stop. Now that he no longer had a client, his vigilance served no purpose.  He leaned over to whisper in Lucas’ ear. “Relaxing is difficult.”

“It’s harder than it looks,” the canine agreed, then smiled at his partner, “but you’re doing a really good job.“  He looked at Victus’ face for a few moments, then quietly reached behind him to loosen the tie holding his braid in place.

“Stop,” Victus moved back a few centimeters. “That’s there for a reason,” he said, thinking back to Bo’s reaction after Victus had accidentally intruded into Dan’s mind.  “You remember what happened the last time you did that.”

“Sure do,” Lucas said,  discreetly pointing at Bo and Dan, who were sitting across from them.  “You made two friends.”

Victus watched the unlikely pair as they battled for possession of the last green olive on the plate between them, Bo using an extended claw and Dan using his fork.  The sapiens and the battle varius were about as different as two men could possibly be, yet they loved each other with absolute devotion.   As usual in these matters, Lucas was right.  He’d extended the hand of friendship and had been richly rewarded for his meager effort. It was time, he thought, to experience life.

With deliberate motions that made it look as if he were performing an ancient ritual, he reached behind himself and unknotted the leather thong that bound his braid. He was about to put it in his pocket when he changed his mind.   Loosely winding the cord around two fingers, he reached over and stuffed it into the front pocket of Lucas’ heavily-starched, white shirt instead.  “You could use a little more discipline in your life.”

The surprise of Leland’s appearance at the table relieved Lucas of the burden of forming a reply.  Neither man had seen the majordomo since he disappeared at the arena, and neither imagined that he would waste time lounging on a cruise ship while there was so much work to be done back at the Mal estate on Galese..

“I had not expected you to remain onboard, Leland,”  Victus admitted, in a voice pitched for no one else’s ears.

“And yet your personal effects have been removed from the cabin,” the dour man observed, as he placed his napkin in his lap.  “If you thought I was gone, why not keep the cabin for yourselves?”

Victus breathed slowly, resisting the urge to match the man’s confrontational demeanor.  “The cabin reeks of Mal and his decadence.  I would rather spend whatever time is left to us in a lifeboat towed behind the ship than surrounded by that constant reminder.”

Leland raised one cultured eyebrow, but did not grace either varius with his gaze. “Suit yourself. Our belongings have been removed and I have booked passage for the house staff and myself on the next ship back to Galese.”

"Cutting your vacation short?"  Lucas piped up.  "You might as well relax and enjoy yourself, now that fuckface is dead."

“Respect,” Victus said, quietly reaching up to give Lucas’ closest ear a painful flick.

"This was a business trip, nothing more," Leland said, ignoring the exchange as he sipped his water, "and now that my business is concluded, there is as little reason for us to stay as there is for either of you to return."  He looked at the opulence that surrounded them.  "It's all prepaid, so feel free to enjoy whatever dubious pleasures your flesh might desire."

Leland patted his pockets. "And speaking of business, I have one last transaction to conduct with you before I leave."  Withdrawing his hand from the pocket of his jacket,  Leland brought with it a pair of ancient-looking, stainless steel slave tags which he handed to Victus.   "I believe these are yours."

Victus handled them carefully, not certain whether he should be repulsed by what they represented, or pleased that they were symbolic of his ownership of Lucas. "Technically," he said finally, turning and handing them to the other varius, "I believe they belong to you."

"Not quite yet," Leland reminded them.  "There is still paperwork to file with various agencies. But there will be no issue."  He folded his napkin with precise care and placed it next to his plate.  "We will handle that once you return, and then you can both be on your way."   Although his voice remained cordial, the way he said it left no possibility that there might be a place for either of them under the roof of the reformed House of Mal.   

“You just can't wait to get rid of us, can you?” Lucas piped up, unable to hold his tongue.

Victus responded with a swift jab to a nerve plexus in Lucas’ side that left the other man unable to speak.  "I understand completely," Victus said. "I would consider it a personal favor if you would see to it that our belongings are not disturbed until our return," he added.  "I would like to pack them myself."

"Don't go snooping through your things while we pack them away?" Leland smirked. "We would not think of it."

"Of course not,' Victus smiled back amiably.  "By this point, Bertha has rifled through my undergarment drawer, and has no doubt reported back to you often enough to know that neither of our rooms contains anything of intrinsic value.  What is there is of sentimental value only."

"Why would you suspect Bertha of such a thing?" Leland asked, curious despite himself.

"You should pay her more." Victus placed a finger on his nose.  "She bathes in soap from the guest quarters, and she's the only of the maids who spends enough time in there for her scent to linger."

"I shall speak to her of that,"  he promised, gathering himself to leave.  "We will see you back on Galese six days from now."

Once Leland was out of earshot, Lucas asked, "Won't that get her in trouble?"

"No," Victus looked unconcerned.  "He smells like soap from the guest quarters, too."

***

The breeze on the promenade might have been artificial, but it still refreshed after a meal that had been far too filling for Victus' liking.  From time to time as they slowly strolled around the perimeter of the ship, he looked over at the compact, muscular form walking next to him.

"What?" Lucas asked, a quiet smile of utter contentment laminated to his muzzle.

Victus smiled at him in return, then put a hand on his mate’s shoulder and moved him into a viewing alcove where they could sit down for a while and watch the moon and stars.  “I’m unsettled, Luke,” he admitted, taking his mate’s handpaw in his own.  “So much is happening so quickly, I’m not sure I can keep up with it.”  He stared out at the field of stars, wishing he could fly through them like a bird flies through a cloud.  The canine, sensing his partner’s need, remained atypically silent.

“All my life, I’ve been fighting,” Victus continued, after gathering his thoughts. “First I fought the pain of loss, then I fought for my place in the orphanage, then respect among my peers.  I’ve fought the Order, Negin Mal and Max and Leland...”

“And me,” Lucas added, squeezing Victus’ hand gently.

“And you,” the Kenzine smiled.  He raised an eyebrow. “That was the one fight I feel I actually won.”

Lucas smiled but said nothing.

“I feel as if every day of my life, I have greeted each morning knowing there was yet another opponent to fight, Lucas.  But now...” he looked into his mate’s eyes.  “I used to think that peace was the absence of strife, but now that everything I have struggled against is gone, I don’t feel peaceful,” he admitted, feeling foolish.  “Now that I have nothing left to fight for, I feel...empty?”

Lucas rested a weighty hand on Victus’ thigh.  “Some men have to fight, Vic.” The canine  leaned forward.  “You’re not feeling empty because what you used to do wasn’t important,” he said, willing Victus to see the truth in his words.  “You’re feeling empty because you’re not doing what you should be doing.”

“Which is...fighting?” Victus asked, skeptically.

“Yup,” Lucas acknowledged, with a definitive nod of his head.  “You’re a protector, Vic, and you’ll never be happy unless you’re protecting something.”

Victus turned to face his mate, then pulled him into a loose hug so he could rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. “I’m tired.’

Although his voice had been little more than a whisper, Lucas heard him loud and clear.  He pulled the lupine closer against him with a hard strength that would have crushed a weaker man.  “You have help now,” he said, honored that Victus would show him this hidden side of his personality.

Kenzine were paragons of strength and fortitude, and until this moment, Lucas would have bet good money that for all his power, his mate was not strong enough to allow himself to be weak.

Lucas eased his crushing grip, and a second later Victus did as well.  The younger man got up and reached a paw down.  “C’mon,” he invited, cocking his head toward the door.  “Let’s get back to the room.”

Victus was surprised when, once standing, Lucas didn’t release his grip.  The silence between them as they resumed their walk along the promenade was companionable and their pace was unrushed.  They had nowhere to be and nothing to do, and they were determined to enjoy the situation for as long as it lasted.

The absolute chill of space leeched heat from the windows along the corridor, making spots along their path uncomfortably cool.  Victus shivered and disengaged his handpaw from Lucas’, withdrawing it into his robe for a little additional warmth.  Lucas sidled up next to him, and Victus felt his warm paw slide in to join his in the pocket of his robe.  But once there, the man’s fingers did not stop moving as Victus expected.  Moving his hand to the inside with deliberate care, Lucas silently pressed something into the palm of his mate’s hand before withdrawing.

Victus felt the hard, warm shapes, and recognized them as something he’d held just a few moments before.  He said nothing, but his heart swelled with love as he ran his calloused fingerpads over the slave tags’ tarnished metal surface.