Y'know that whole love/hate cliché thing? Where the hero and the heroine hate each other then fall into each other's arms? Hate it. Hate it so much. Which is why I was kind of surprised to find myself acting it out, with Rhade of all people.

Rhade had some stupid Winter Solstice Festival thing he wanted to celebrate. Fine, live and let live. Only… his celebration involved setting fire to stuff. And unless you hadn't noticed, setting fire to stuff is not a good idea on a warship. The Andromeda has three different fire-suppression systems, all independent from each other, and all very difficult to disable. Not to mention that if you disable them, the fail-safe kicks in and vents all the oxygen in the entire section.

So, to recap, fire + warship = very bad idea.

Rhade wasn't interested in hearing that. He was all "blah blah blah, scented candles, yadda yadda, traditional log of Terazed pine, wah wah wah, goddamn sprinklers."

I thought Ubers didn't go in for the whole religion thing. I know Tyr didn't do any of this crap, but Rhade just starts off on, "Tradition and religion aren't the same thing. Now fix my quarters so I can burn expensive imported lumber and stinky candles made from insect secretions, you annoying little kludge."

Okay, so he might not have said the 'annoying little kludge' bit, I could damned well hear him thinking it. I'm pretty sure Andromeda was on my side, because she got as far as, "Anyone attempting to disable vital safety procedu…" before Rhade invoked privacy protocols. I scowled, and muttered about Ubers who were too stupid to realise that you can't just burn things in a space ship. And that's when the shit hit the fan.

Or at least, the first wave of shit. This would be the 'large Uber picks the scrawny kludge up by the neck, slams him against the wall, and threatens him' portion of the evening. Not something I enjoy, but let's face it, it's happened often enough that it doesn't really intimidate me any more. And I don't think Rhade was trying to hurt me. At least... not much.

Thing is… I have this little reflex when I'm being choked: I wrap my legs around the guy's chest. Look, it makes sense. I'm being held off the ground by my neck, and I might not be particularly studly, but that's still a lot of weight hanging on a couple of very small bones and some muscle. Not to mention the stress on my dataport, which is a very bad thing. Wrapping my legs around the guy gets the weight off my neck, and gives me some leverage.

I'm sure Dylan thinks I have some kinky sex thing about being strangled, but Dylan is the King of Whacked Out Ideas, so I just ignore any lingering looks at my neck.

As I was saying… Rhade grabbed me and yanked me off my feet, probably preparing to yell at me, and the leg reflex kicked in. There was a very quiet moment, as Rhade stood there looking confused. Then he snickered and said, "Do you always spread your legs when you get picked up by Nietzscheans?" and rubbed his thumb very gently across the skin under my dataport.

I have a smart mouth, always have. It's got me into more trouble than just about anything else. This time though, it completely failed me. I just sort of hung there with my mouth open, really surprised that Rhade: A. had sort of giggled, B. had a sense of humour, C. was sort of flirting with me, in a weird and slightly scary Nietzschean way and D. had really pretty eyes this close up. And that's when the second wave hit the fan.

One thing you have to say for Nietzscheans, they know how to turn a person on. When you get right down to it, their whole culture boils down to 'gotta get me some'. I don't know if they're genetically engineered to be great kissers, or if they go to small arms manufacture, military tactics and making out camp when they hit puberty, but they definitely know what to do with their mouths.

My mouth had been hanging open in surprise, so Rhade just leaned forward and suddenly I was getting to taste his tongue. If I hadn't been in shock I'd probably have bitten down, but I hesitated too long, and by the time my self-preservation instinct kicked in, my libido had taken over. Which didn't take long.

Warm, wet, with just the right combination of soft and firm. And I'm really easy when I haven't been laid for three years. There was a tiny little voice at the back of my head, jumping up and down and waving red flags, yelling 'What the Hell are you doing?' but the rest of my body moaning 'Humping is good' drowned it out. You'd think now that I'm creeping up on thirty, the damn thing wouldn't have such a hold on me, but you'd be wrong. I'm as much a slave to my gonads as I ever was.

I slid down the wall a bit when Rhade let go of my neck, but I didn't go far, because Rhade's hands were back, this time cupping my ass. He pressed me harder into the wall, which wasn't that great, but then he ran his fingers down the seam in the seat of my pants, which turned my crank like you wouldn't believe. Sliding down a bit meant I could tell that Rhade's crank was pretty well turned too, so I wriggled, just to see what sort of reaction I'd get.

The reaction was kind of an "Uurgh!" noise, a lot more humping, and Rhade's tongue running around the space between my teeth and my upper lip. New erogenous zone… whoo! As a little thank you for that, I shimmied lower and started to get serious.

And when I say 'started', what I really mean is 'finished', because a couple of good squirms and that was it, game over, high tide at the pleasure beach. I was done. And I guess Rhade was too, although I missed out on seeing it, since my eyes had rolled back so far I could see my pituitary gland.

Next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor, staring up at Rhade who was leaning against the wall gasping like someone had cut the oxygen.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop you, but…" Rhade sort of waved a hand to indicate post-boink stupidity.

"S'okay. I let go. I think," I said, and got up, just in time for the embarrassment to kick in. "Uh… I'm just gonna go do… something. Somewhere else."

Rhade looked relieved, which I could deal with so much better than 'smug'. "Yes, I should probably be checking the ammunition inventory. We'll talk about the fire suppression systems later." And then he bolted off out the door.

I couldn't believe the stupid bastard still thought I could jigger the safety protocols for him! I banged my head on the wall a couple of times and went to get cleaned up.

Then I left a message for him, letting him know that the machine shops don't have the same systems, since people need to weld and stuff in there, and if he wanted to burn his stuff in my workshop, that'd be okay. And I really wasn't thinking about the fact that I have a bunk stashed in there. Honest.

The End