Pumpking

Issue 40

12 hours without incident

I woke alone in my bed, feeling warm, worn out and vaguely troubled. It didn't surprise me that Daystar had slipped off during the night. He didn't sleep and he had a whole planet to look after. Someone had probably needed saving more than I needed cuddling.

I spent my morning lazing a little, I had a bed that smelled like a man, and this wonderful ache of muscles well-used and abused between my thighs. Like I hadn't been to the sex gym in a really long time and suddenly broke the fasting. I'm not exactly a shut-in, but it had been about two years since I'd last been with a guy.

The memory of that last time drowned out in the maelstrom of last night. I'd never done something so primal, animalistic as that, had I imagined parts of it; the rawness of the act still swelled in me. always I'd made love, but last night had been like I'd been ravaged. The term had always seemed so wrong to me before, but now suddenly it felt like it fit; like it was the only thing that fit.

I got up around ten and had a long shower, almost loath to wash off the scent of sex on my skin. When I was done, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I had that silly little smile people get after a night of pleasure. Like I knew some big secret. I knew that Daystar had an oral fixation. Oh, boy, that sort of information would get me a month of free lunches in the gossip circles, now wouldn't it?

I didn't even feel all that concerned about the skimpy underwear today, in fact, it only reminded me of the viciousness that had been used on my lacy panties last night. The idea of the thong I was wearing today ending up in such a similar state was almost enough to make me ready for another round.

" you look a little less out-of-sorts this morning," Fast-lane commented when he saw me in the cafeteria. I suppose he spent a lot of time in here.

"I had a good night's sleep."

His eyebrow rose at that, like he wasn't an idiot but could read the social cue, "Right. Well I had to deliver mail all night long because of a computer outage in Perugia."

"Sounds exhausting?" I offered.

He shrugged, "Not really, just time consuming. I hate those gigs. Info structure collapse my ass. Who even uses snail-mail these days?"

I still got bills with paper deliveries, since it was the best method for me to keep track of them, said nothing, "So why don't you get some sleep."

"Micronaps."

"Uh, like a microsleep only a nap?"

"Something like that. I don't sleep much."

"Does anyone around here?"

"One or two of us," He replied with a laugh, "It is a weakness I have overcome."

"Well, great, all powerful one, is there anything to do around here? If I don't do something today, I'm going to go stir crazy."

He shrugged. "Well there's training, surfing the net for porn, or the gym. We have a good book collection?"

I wrinkled my nose, "Books? I'm not a reader. I suppose I could run on an exercise wheel for a little while."

"If its entertainment you need, I've got a ton of movies in my database." He added.

I wrinkled my nose again. "I'm not big on movies either."

"Well what are your hobbies?"

"Uh-"

"What do you do in your free time?"

I frowned. I only had one free day a week, and I spent all my time preparing for work the next week. I usually went to the pub, had a drink with friends, then went home early.

I didn't... well... I didn't do things like arts and crafts or movies. I didn't listen to music, I didn't read much—I didn't play games or... Jesus, when had I turned into such a downer? How had I lost all time for hobbies and fun?

"What is it?"

"Nothing, you know, let's what those movies. I don't have work tomorrow."

I worked, I cleaned, I read gardening magazines for tips on how to improve my gardening- but I didn't do anything else. My whole world seemed so little and shallow suddenly.

I'd always wanted to achieve things in my life; wanted to be what my father had seen- but school had been a waste of time, and I'd needed money and independence more than future education or lots of friends and hobbies. Was that what had been so different about me and Samhain? She had different priorities?

We found a spare 'recreation' room and sat on the sofa while Fast-lane loaded up his movie collection. He put on some kind of action flick about cars being stolen by ruggedly handsome crooks and scantily clad babes. It was not my thing, but since I didn't have a thing, I guess I didn't have much of a right to say that.

I examined my life as my mind wandered. What had I imagined being in primary school? I'd always been thinking about growing up, ever since I was a child, but I'd been unfocused, free to dream back then.

My mother had been a pastry chef in a small café. My father said she always smelled of vanilla essence and cake-mix. She'd studied briefly at university to be a law student but pastry chef had better hours, less stress and a more fulfilling soul-ness to it for her. For a time I had considered cooking; I'd get him to help me bake cookies and mix cakes when he wasn't asleep from his sixteen hour days at the mines.

Did I like cooking? I had never really taken to it; I could follow a recipe, but I had no life to what I made. It never seemed to taste right to me.

I didn't like anything; I had nothing I knew that made me happy. I was only alive around other people- I didn't do anything on my own, my whole life was about pleasing people with their own needs and wants. I'd always tried to be a well-behaved child for my foster parents, tried to match their environments, that hadn't worked; I had no social life outside of work; I didn't date or look for companionship. My one blip on the radar were my PAP meetings that were more like a habit than a necessity.

"Did you see that?" Fast-lane elbowed me and brought me back to noticing that something or someone had exploded on the screen.

"Yes, it's so big."

"Big? Pfft, they're going to be scraping him off the floor."

"I--" The ship rocked and suddenly jerked like a giant hand had swatted it. Alarms went off and Fast-lane and I went crashing into the right-side wall as it rolled on its side.

I was just thankful the furniture was bolted down, or we'd have been crushed under the damn couch.

What now?

"All available teams to the launch bays, this is not a drill. Telepaths to deck eleven. Dr Carnival to Medbay. Prepare to be boarded. I repeat, prepare to be boarded." The com announced, still sounding unnaturally calm about the whole situation.

"Fuck. C'mon, Dion. We have to get to the fighting-"

"I can't fight, I've got no weapons."

He was already gone, nothing more than an after-glow of colour.

Fantastic. I was abandoned on a ship about to be boarded by god only knew what and I had no weapons, no powers that would work and—the room was right behind the cafeteria.

I might luck out and find a pumpkin in the little kitchen.