Tristan woke the next morning to the sound of clattering and banging from his kitchen. He sighed. “What is she doing now?” He pushed off the covers, stood, and walked through to the kitchen. Open tins and boxes, their contents scattered about, lay on the work surface. Some beans in tomato sauce dripped, forming a lumpy orange puddle on the floor. The Alien had finally settled on breakfast cereal and sat, quietly eating them from the box. Tristan groaned, but she just turned and smiled. He grimaced, shrugged, then with a sigh went upstairs to wash and shower.
When he returned to the kitchen she had left. He made himself some toast and sat surveying the mess that had once been his tidy kitchen. Almost an hour later, his kitchen now returned to a semblance of normality, he put on his boots and walked up to the ridge overlooking the crash site. He found her busy working on her ship. She glanced up for a moment before returning to her work. He left her to it and went for a walk.
When he got back, she was standing in the hall, hands on her hips and face flushed. She didn’t wait until he had shut the door. “I did not give you permission to leave!” She paused as the computer translated the next sentence for her. “You will take me to one of your cities now! I wish to find out all I can.” She jabbed a finger at his chest emphasizing each word.
Tristan gasped at her arrogance. “Screw You! You can forget it with an attitude like that!” He stepped past her and walked into the lounge.
She followed him. “You inferior being, you will treat me correctly!”
Tristan spun round. “OK, keep talking that way and you can fuck off, you ungrateful bitch!”
The computer translated, her face flushed red, mouth opened and shut, and she spluttered something in her own language then caught herself. “How...how dare you!”
Tristan glanced out the window. It had started to rain; one of those miserable rains that lasts the rest of the day, with a cold wind. He took several paces towards her then stood balanced on the balls of his feet. “I dare, you - you bloody alien cow!”
She backed away, clenching her fists. He sensed the vicious kick coming before she started to move. He dodged sideways, grabbed her foot at the top of her kick, and twisted. She landed flat on her back.
“You will need to be faster than that to catch me, bitch!” This time Tristan emphasised the word ‘bitch’. She had given herself away by her strong emotion.
She rolled and pushed herself up. She swung at him again, but it was a feint; lightning fast she continued the spin going for his neck with the side of her outstretched hand. Every movement flashed in her mind a split second before she executed it. He caught her hand and twisted using her forward momentum against her. Again, she found herself on the floor.
With fast fluid motion she flipped herself up and round. Then attacked with another sweeping kick, powerful enough to kill if it had landed. Again, she gave herself away, and Tristan sidestepped, caught her foot and, keeping her off balance, twisted her round and pushed her out the still open front door. She fell backwards down his steps into the mud of his rough drive. Tristan immediately slammed the door and locked it.
“You can cool off in the rain!” he shouted. Clenching his fists he spun round to ensure all his windows were closed. With a sigh, he flung himself down in his lounge chair, smashing a fist down hard on the arm. “Fuck you!” he hissed between clenched teeth. He took a deep breath to still the pounding in his chest and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.
He had never sworn at, or physically fought with a woman before. His father being old fashioned had brought his son up to be a gentleman. Still, she is… it is an alien it’s not the same is it? He shook his head; it still didn’t make it right. At that moment a gust of wind rattled rain against the lounge window. Tristan shivered then smiled. “Thank you English weather.” He busied himself lighting the fire.
Aesia stood up. She tried to brush some of the brown wet mud from her clothes. The fabric was not waterproof, unlike her uniform. She shivered and cursed herself for being so stupid and taking it off.
This alien had the better of her. All of her attacks had been blocked with relative ease, and it had ignored her superiority. She, like the rest of her people, took their superiority over other races for granted, but this creature had badly shaken her belief.
She stood outside the front door with water running down her neck, and shivered. The wind blew straight through her wet clothes, so she wrapped her arms tight to her chest and shivered again. She would not demean herself by banging on the door. She spun round; of course, she could shelter from the storm in the cockpit of her fighter. She ran to it, slipping on the wet mud, getting wetter and colder. She requested a system boot, but the ship did not respond. She shivered again as an icy blast hit her; the wet clothes offered no protection at all. Of course! She had locked it to prevent anyone from entering without her knowledge. She had left the electronic key with her uniform upstairs in the bedroom of the cottage. She stamped her foot. Things are getting better and better!
She cursed her stupidity. Ever since she had been on this awful planet, nothing had gone right. She crawled under the wet tarpaulin. At least it supplied some respite from the wind and rain. The rain beat on the tarpaulin in random rhythms as the wind took it in waves. Lightning flashed across the sky followed by a loud crack. It was dry underneath, but the wet clothes and the cold were getting to be too much for her. Shivering constantly she thought of her home planet, a warmer and far more pleasant place than this hellhole. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, and clamped her teeth together to stop them chattering. Tears burned her cheeks; she shook her head, ashamed at her weakness.
She had to get proper shelter and warmth soon. Her body was not equipped to cope with this. She was now in real danger of suffering from exposure. There was no option but to get into the building and get warm. She wriggled out from under the cover of the tarpaulin; the wind tugged at her wet clothes. Gritting her teeth her hands bunched into fists, nails digging into her palms, she walked back and up the steps to the front door. She hesitated, took a shuddering breath, then banged on the door and shouted to be let in.
She had to wait a few moments before she heard a muffled reply. “Only if you ask nicely! If you try to attack me again, you will go back out until you learn.”
She opened her mouth to put the creature in its place, but she had no choice. She had to get warm or die. The computer told her what to say. “Please let me in. I’m cold and wet, and I promise to be good.” She hoped she sounded contrite enough. “Please.” She leaned against the door and the tears returned. The humiliation was almost too much to bear, even more than the cold.
Tristan opened the door to let her in. “You look like a drowned rat!”
She was crying and shivering uncontrollably, close to collapse. A small puddle formed on the floor around her. His heart missed a beat; had he gone too far? “Wait there.” Tristan ran upstairs and got a warm bath towel out of his airing cupboard. When he returned, she had removed the wet clothes and stood before him completely naked and shivering. He stared at her for a moment before wrapping her in the warm towel. She was slim, toned and lean without an ounce of fat, her breasts small but firm, her body stunningly human like. He noticed a faint smile cross her face and for a moment her eyes seemed to shine. She knew the effect she had on him. His face flushed cheeks burning, he cursed his blunder.
She took a step and pitched forward. Tristan caught her, feeling her body shake. He put his arms round her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to freeze you to death.”
Without acknowledging his apology she pulled the towel tighter and snuggled against him. Wet hair covered her face as she shivered. Tristan gently brushed it aside with his fingers. He noticed she smelt slightly of an exotic musky spice. A warm flush stirred in him, spreading down his body. He tried not to think of her naked beneath the towel, but it made things worse. The uncontrolled shivering subsided and Aesia pulled away from him, a faint smile played on her lips. Realisation dawned: good God, she knows what I’m thinking! He imagined the brick wall.
He tried to cover his confusion. “Sit by the fire and I will get a small towel so you can dry your hair.” She shook her head, not understanding what he had said, so he led her to the lounge and sat her by the fire. “Stay there.” He ran back upstairs and took a hand towel, then returned, taking her small computer out of her wet jeans on the way back so she could understand what he said.
She took the towel and computer with a smile and proceeded to dry her hair. He went into the kitchen and made her a warm drink. She cupped the drink in her hands and sipped slowly. Tristan asked her whether she would like a warm bath. She nodded once her computer had translated it for her. He left her by the fire and went upstairs, relieved to get away.
She had let the bath towel slip, revealing rather too much of her body. He turned on the cold water tap first and splashed some on his face before turning on the hot for her bath. When it was ready he laid out more dry towels and the last of Sarah’s clothes. He leaned over the banister and called her up. He stood on the landing out of the way as she climbed the stairs. She let the towel slip again, turned and smiled at him before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door. He let out a ragged sigh and left her alone. Later, he went upstairs and found her sound asleep in the bed. He tidied the bathroom and returned to the lounge.
He sat gazing at the flames as they danced around the last log he had put on the fire. She had let the towel slip provocatively while she had sat drying her hair and again as she had walked into the bathroom. Tristan knew she had done it deliberately, but why? “She is arrogant, unpleasant, bad tempered and an alien, for God’s sake, Tristan!” He shook his head. Think of something else! He tried occupying himself by making up his bed on the settee. There was something about her, a kind of magnetism that attracted him, and those eyes! For a brief moment, he had actually wanted her!
The following morning it had stopped raining. The sun shining through the trees made dappled patterns on the curtains; it would be a pleasant day. The alien, still asleep upstairs, impinged on his thoughts so he shut her out of his mind and busied himself preparing breakfast.
Aesia heard Tristan moving around downstairs. The morning sun was streaming through the window as she pulled the covers around her and stretched. Sleep had refreshed her, leaving her warm and comfortable compared to how cold she had been the night before. She played the events over in her mind. The creature downstairs was annoying, savage, and it needed to realise that she was a Sicceian, the master species, superior to all species in the Galaxy.
But, it had displayed a weakness she could exploit; last night had not been a total disaster. She had a way to get this creature under control.
She had remembered a pet she’d had as a child. The creature was devoted to her although she was cruel to it at times. It followed her around, and she knew it would do anything for her without question. The creature downstairs was no different.
Last night, when it had walked down the stairs with the towel, it saw her standing naked. She had been taken aback by its momentary unguarded emotions, the way it had stared; the filthy creature was attracted to her! She shivered at the thought. But, it was a weakness she knew how to exploit. She had deliberately let the towel slip while drying her hair to see the effect, and although the creature had blocked off its mind she knew it had worked. The stupid savage was so obvious! Soon, it would be eating out of her hand!
She dressed and walked downstairs. As she walked into the kitchen Tristan looked round. She smiled. “Good Morning.”
He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Hello, how are you today? Have you recovered from last night?”
Aesia tensed, holding her arms down beside her as she fought the urge to slap the impertinent creature. Last night was, after all, its fault! She waited for the correct response from the computer. “I slept well, thank you. I feel much refreshed.”
The creature seemed satisfied with her response. Aesia shuddered; this was not going to be easy.
“Are you still cold?”
“No!” She hesitated. “Thank you for your concern.”
When breakfast was finished, Tristan said, “OK, as you have calmed down and seem in a friendlier mood, I will take you to Exeter. There will be plenty of hustle and bustle so you won’t be noticed as long as you wear sunglasses and a hat to hide your ears.” He paused. “And do exactly as I say.”
She inclined her head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“I will go and see what I can find, maybe Sarah left something.”
“Sarah is your female?”
“No, not anymore.”
Tristan noticed a frown cross her brow, but only for a moment. He turned and went upstairs, with a strong suspicion she was up to something. He rummaged about and found a sweatband to hold her ears and a woollen hat to hide them. He found a pair of old sunglasses in the dressing table drawer that Sarah had left.
He returned to the kitchen and held them out to her. She turned the items over in her hands before trying them on; the disguise worked well. With her almost white hair, fair skin, and the strange accent, Tristan thought she would pass as Scandinavian if anyone asked.
He had a good idea why she wanted to explore, but as Exeter was not a military establishment what harm could there be showing her around? A risk, of course, but if they were careful and Aesia did as she was told? He could not think of a reason not to take her.
When she was ready, he led her to his old Land Rover parked beside his cottage and opened the door for her. She climbed in and sat quietly. He walked round to the driver’s side and got in. He turned to her and told her she had to put her seat belt on. She was not sure what he meant, so he leaned across and showed her. Aesia actually surprised herself, she did not shudder as he helped her with the belt. Once she was strapped in, Tristan reached to start the engine when he suddenly had a thought. “What is your name?”
She smiled at him. “Aesia.”
Tristan repeated it. “Aesia.” At least it was easy to pronounce.
She nodded. “What is yours?”
“Tristan.”