Free Alien Terrain by Iris Astres

very
nice. She was only lost and trying to be halfway decent. Lost, trying, and
failing. God, she was still failing miserably. Trying to leave Rick as
painlessly as possible and humiliating him in front of all his friends instead.
Trying to save an alien and then just getting naked with him and not getting
laid. “I’m not an open hand,” she said. “With all due respect
to your archetypes. Except, do you know what?” She made a gesture that said wipe that
last sentence away . “Fuck your archetypes. I don’t give a damn about your
bullshit dream of selfless feminine generosity. That isn’t me. That might be
what you see, but that’s not who I am.”
    He looked intrigued. “Who are you, then?”
    “Fuck off.”
    This time he had his hand around her ankle like a shackle.
Jane kicked him hard. His fingers tightened. “Tell me and I’ll go.”
    “I’m a despot,” Jane said. She wanted it to shock him. She
wanted it to be the truth. “In my heart, I’m just a filthy lord, swilling wine
and snapping my fingers for the dancing girls.”
    That gave him pause. His brow inched slightly higher. “Do
you have many dancing girls?”
    “Zero dancing girls,” said Jane, the shabby pretense
crumbling around her. “If I really had a castle, I’d free the dancing girls,
the stable boys, the maids, and just do all the cleaning by myself.”
    After she was angry, she was always sad. So here it was. Cycle complete. “I know that I’m a drudge. An open hand if
you prefer. But don’t assume I’m all brave and noble about it. Doing good isn’t my cherished calling, Raj. It’s just a way to get
through life without being a prick. It’s the best I can do. Not some
manifestation of the motherfucking feminine. Believe me, if there were any way,
I’d drop it all and just have fun.”
    “Would you?” That seemed to interest him. “What’s fun? Tell
me what fun’s like in your mind.”
    Jane cast her thoughts into the possibilities. She imagined
a crowd of happiness and laughter that included her. It was such a blurry
image, she could barely see it.
    “Fun’s a long way off,” she said. Then she turned around and
looked at him, remembering her pancakes and their conversation. “You’re fun.
When you’re not trying to define me or go down on me without permission.”
    He winced at that and leaned slightly away. She didn’t know
a dark man’s skin could pale. He even looked a little clammy, worse than he’d
looked strung up in Rick’s garage.
    “It’s fine,” she said. “Let’s just forget it.”
    He cupped her heel again. She wished she found it
irritating, but it felt extremely nice. Odd but comforting, and comforting was
good.
    “You asked me if I was afraid of anything. In the shower, do
you remember?”
    She signaled that she did.
    “This is what I’ve always been afraid of. Failure
as a lover.”
    “Does it happen often?” No ,
she guessed.
    “It’s never happened once in thirty years.”
    “Oh great,” said Jane. “Should I be flattered?”
    “You should.” He sounded serious. “If I were you, I’d feel
exalted. You made a temple lover lose his focus, Jane. That’s quite a feat. The
one mistake of my career is yours.” He made it sound like treasure.
    “You’re just not on your game because you’re sick. Because
you were just kidnapped, beaten, starved.”
    “That’s true,” he said. “But I’ve been hungry, injured, and
in pain before. I’ve never made a fraction of the error I made now.”
    “What error?” He was working hard to make it sound like
she’d completely blown his mind. She wasn’t ready to believe it. “Most girls
like a tongue between their legs. You played the odds and lost. That’s all.”
    “Thirty years of training didn’t teach me to play odds, my
love. A temple lover doesn’t make assumptions. We observe. If necessary we
inquire. The point of our existence is to get things right.”
    “So what the hell happened?”
    The teasing question pained