Jess says — Sorry for the abrupt wrap up, folks. I goofed, and this and the last episode really should have been part of season one. Raidon and I are going to figure out if/how to move on with an actual season two when she isn’t buried in final exams. For now, we’re getting back to The Bargain.
season content notes: explicit sex, discussion of fictional slavery
The next day Moira cheerfully shoved Zdenko off the ship, then went to ‘catch up’ with Efe. Nervously, Zdenko made his way to the city’s university district for his ‘appointment.’ An appointment Moira had never actually explained. Zdenko only knew one thing that would take him to a neuropsych, though…
After wandering through the university for a while, he found the right door and knocked. A moment later, a head popped out. “Captain Zdenko?”
“Yes.”
“You’re late.” The door opened, and Zdenko stepped through to find what looked like a normal doctor’s office, if a bit higher priced than he’d ever been to.
“Ah, Moira said I had an appointment, but I can’t afford your fees.”
“What? No fee. Didn’t Moira explain?”
Zdenko flushed. “We were a bit… distracted.”
The woman tutted. “With Verda parasite? I’m sure you were. Well, we don’t have time for long discussions now. Short version: Moira and I struck a deal. She made it sound like you’d do about anything to deal with your infection short of active harm to others. Is that right?”
“Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
“Then,” she slapped a data unit in his hands, “thumbprint here, here, and here, and we’ll get you prepped for surgery. No money owed.”
He knew he should ask more questions; it was too good to be true.
But fuck if he was going to pass up the chance. He signed on the dotted lines.
20 minutes later, he was prepped for surgery and being wheeled into the OR.
“You’ll be awake the whole time. Let us know if anything hurts, and otherwise keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a question.”
He swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”
That’s when the lights went up. This was an operating theater with an emphasis on /theater/ — three rows of filled seats and spectators peering down at him through a glass wall.
“Thank you all for joining me on such short notice. Today, we have the rare opportunity to see a mature Verda parasite. This particular infection is over 10 years old…”
Ten /hours/ later, Zdenko was finally allowed to collapse into a proper bed. The doctor had kept him awake throughout the entire procedure (which was /normal/ for brain surgery?) and asked the most appalling questions. Apparently, it was a good thing that Moira had spent most of the last day and night bonking his brains out because it had ‘settled his baseline.’ Which (according to the surgeon) meant most of the parasite’s effects were already out of his system.
Zdenko didn’t notice anything different, but he didn’t exactly expect to — they had him hopped up on a number of drugs that the doc had explained, but what the hell did she expect a space bum to understand about ‘blood dilution’ and ‘parasynthesized nervous systems’ or whatever. All he knew was he wanted back on his ship, and he still wanted to fuck Moira’s brains out.
But the wanting felt different. It used to be that if he went 10 hours without some kind of relief, he’d be feeling… hungry, sort of. It was a need his body had. A need that, over the years, he’d hated, raged against, and eventually made peace with. Still, a need. Moira was the first person he’d /wanted/ to have sex with in nearly a decade.
When they’d gone back to the 3P after dropping Moira off, he’d been able to get it up for the girl. (Of course he could get it up. it was /always/ up.) It had been like choking down cardboard.
Worse, like poisoned cardboard. It fed part of him, and fucked up the rest.
He /wanted/ Moira the way he wanted to be back in space.
That was why he thought he’d had to let her go: he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her, take advantage of her willingness to put up with him.
But now she was back. Not only back but even more demanding and in his face than ever. He chuckled at the thought. Even naked and just escaped from near-certain death, Moira had been willing to tell him what she thought, and she only got more assertive as time went on.
If this surgery really had worked… if he woke tomorrow with the drugs out of his system, still /wanting/ and not /needing/…
Now /that/ would be a thing.
“You were /what/?” Efe’s usually quiet voice rang out through the lounge. “The whole time?”
Moira… the only word that fit was ‘smirked.’ “Most productive sabbatical in the history of the University.”
Ezra shook his head and smiled. That was just so…. so /Moira/. By the deeps, that woman had led Zdenko on a chase. “So are you back for another ‘sabbatical’ then?” he asked. “Or just a visit?”
He knew what he wanted. Erza and Moira had never ended up in bed together, more through Ezra’s reticence than anything else. But he thought they’d ended up friends, with possibilities for more. Moira around for another few years… around by her own choice with none of the… complications… of her last so-called ‘contract’? That would be… very nice.
“Neither,” Moira said with a laugh. I’m your charter.”
Skullfire hissed. “Your name isn’t anywhere on the paperwork, only the…” Skullfire stopped a moment and smiled. “… The Planetary University of Panturo.”
“Yup.” Moira smiled back. “Minimum 4 months with option for renewal.”
“Your boss must have /really/ liked your work,” Ildar put in over the comms. He was sitting watch, but Ezra wasn’t surprised to learn that he’d been listening in. They’d all missed Moira in different ways. She’d become a real part of the crew.
“You have no idea.” Moira’s smile widened. “But I want to save that for when I can see the look on Zdenko’s face.
“In the meantime, just how badly did you mess up my medic station?”
Efe raised her hands in surrender. “I’ve got brownies to bake,” and Skullfire excused herself to ‘check inventory.’
“Aw, common on!” Ezra said as the comms clicked off, and Ildar, too, abandoned him. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah… so… about that. You do remember none of us know more than basic first aid, right?”
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