Shiksie nervously rolled her tail in her hands and glanced around the room, ensuring all of her research documents were tucked away. She could not imagine how Martinez would react if he caught even the slightest glimpse at all the research she had done over the last month.
At least some of it, namely her extensive research on seduction, mating, and courtship. She doubted her mentee would care much about her learning how to cook Human meals and spending countless hours trying to actually craft the meals. But none of the papers or connecting lines were left on the walls. They had all been tucked away in her closet under lock and key.
With that done, Shiksie moved over to the oven, the smell of the roast filling the room. She wanted to make something close to what Martinez would have eaten when growing up, but that was almost impossible to pin down because he was from America, California, no less.
She knew his family was from what Humans called Hispanic, based on his name alone—that was easy enough to discern—but that led her down a rabbit hole of complicated histories: stories of war, race, colonization, and the melting pot America apparently has been for over four hundred Earth years—it would have been an impossible task to make something from his youth without showing too much of her hand.
What was called a pot roast, but there was no way for her to acquire beef from Earth, so she simply cross-referenced the animals and meat available on Renoural.
At least Renoural was a heavy agricultural production world. While it was not a bread basket for the system and was used more as a relay for travel to other more settled and active worlds, its significant export was still food. Because of this, she did manage to find a suitable substitution.
Peeking inside the oven, the pot roast looked perfect; it was golden brown and falling apart when Shiksie poked at it with a fork. The tuber, carrot, and onion substitutes were also soft and cooked well— exquisite.
Seeing the fruits of her labor, Shiksie could not help but smile and let her tail sway happily. Before she came up with this recipe, she had had so many failures —over the last month, she had dozens, if not hundreds, of failures. But Martinez was worth all the effort—maybe now he would see that she was putting so much time and energy into understanding him and Humans.
Likely far more than that Aviex ever would.
After closing the oven, Shiksie set the table, lit candles, and played Human country music. From the extensive cultural research before Martinez's arrival, she had a penchant for country, cowboys, and westerns, so she deemed the music scores from that genre appropriate for today.
As she pressed play, her data pad chimed.
Martinez <3: Hey, I just finished my test and am heading to your place. Be there in thirty minutes.
Shiksie: Very well, how did you do?
Martinez <3: I got an 87%
Shiksie: That is a respectable score for your midterms. I will see you when you arrive.
Shiksie quickly tucked away her datapad, a smile on her face and a nervous fluttering in her heart. Going over to her bedroom, Shiksie pulled out the clothes she specifically got for tonight and made sure her bed was made and clean, should they need it later.
—-
Martinez knocked on Shiksie’s door, having just arrived from his mid-term. God, he hated the tests; each was overseen by the Draun medical center Director. The man was intimidating, not like you would expect from a Human, such as being a cult of personality or cold, calculating professionalism.
In the Director's case, he was three meters tall, covered in dark armored plating, and had four yellow eyes filled with venom and cunning; all that was before you thought of the 15-centimeter-long claws on the end of each hand.
Although Martinez knew the intimidation the man gave off was just a matter of how he looked, behind all of that bulk was a man of drive, intelligence, and significant political cunning. One that anyone who befell it would likely be cut down.
If anything, Martinez was praying for some of that cunning today. He had to squash any desires Shiksie had to be in a relationship with him; his previous attempt to let her down softly did not work. No, if anything, she was only bolstered to get closer to him.
Today, failure was not an option, and Martinez had the drive to succeed—until Shiksie opened the door.
Her grayish silver hair ran over one shoulder and traced down to a skimpy, tight-fitting dark blue dress; both sides were open lattice, allowing a clear view of her flanks. The dress perfectly showed off her lithesome curves, long legs, and gorgeous blue-gray fur, and it was low-cut just enough to give an ample view into pert cleavage.
Wafting past Shiksie were mouth-watering smells of roasting meat, her subtle flowery perfume, the light of flickering candles, and the melodic sounds of an acoustic guitar.
“It’s lovely to see you, Henry,” Shiksie purred, slightly fluttering her eyelids. “You look handsome this evening.”
Unlike all the other times he had seen the usually ascetic Farunse Shiksie, she had lipstick on and even dark black eyeshadow, making their bright emerald color pop to a disturbing degree; Martinez had not noticed it until now having been distracted by his mentor's athletic build, and cleavage.
“It’s nice to see you too; you look good too,” Martinez said without even remembering why he was here today.
Shiksie smiled and purred momentarily while looking Martinez over, soaking in his details. Meanwhile, Martinez pulled his jaw off the floor and tried remembering why he was there—thankfully, he did, lest he do something stupid.
“Are you going to come in?” Shiksie asked, standing abreast of the door and gesturing in.
Martinez stepped past Shiksie; as he did, he could feel her staring at the back of his head. Her discerning gaze assessed him, causing a deep primal part of him to be on edge, something he had not felt since first meeting her. It was also incredibly likely she was also taking stock of the waves of pheromones oozing from him; if she noticed anything outstanding, she did not openly comment on it.
“Would you care for a beverage?” Shiksie questioned while sauntering over to the fridge.
“Sure,” Martinez replied, going over to the table.
While Shiksie was retrieving the drinks, he did his best to reassess his action plan, let her down firmly, and ensure nothing was misinterpreted. He had his plan, and even though he could not deny Shiksie’s shapely build, her figure being hugged by the dress made him nearly forget it.
His mind was also questioning something else about Shiksie; something was off—it took him a few moments to realize what it was. How she was speaking—it was stiff, unnatural, and forced.
“Beyond your test, was anything else eventful throughout your day?” Shiksie asked, putting a beer in front of Martinez.
Now, he put his finger on precisely what Shiksie was doing; she was attempting to imitate Lysa’s languid mannerisms, speech patterns, and even formal speech patterns. While her imitating his Ruh'ah was concerning, along with the fact that she was not being subtle in propping up her cleavage, his eyes wandered to the relative safety of his drink.
Where in the universe did she get a proper beer? Martinez knew getting beer imported in small amounts was ungodly expensive, so much so that a company could go bankrupt unless it did so in bulk.
But this was genuine beer from Earth. According to the bottle it was from a small brewery that only crafted and distributed in Wisconsin.
“Shiksie, how did you get this?” Martinez questioned.
“Worry not about that. I simply acquired it because I knew you would enjoy it,” Shiksie purred, leaning forward and smiling brightly. “Do you not?”
Martinez paused, trying to think of how to proceed here. This was surreal by any stretch of the imagination. He had figured this likely would be odd, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. He had assumed Shiksie would have cracked a few awkward jokes, maybe made some queer attempts at seduction—not whatever this was.
“Shiksie, what are you doing?” Martinez asked, ignoring her question about the beer and deciding to focus on her out-of-pocket actions.
“Whatever do you mean?” Shikie awkwardly chuckled, trying to ignore Martinez’s discerning gaze and her heart rate spiking from being called out for her mimicry.
Martinez sighed, leaned back in the chair, and looked around the room, noticing the meal-time setup: dinner clearly ready in the oven, romantic candles, an over-the-top dress, and a nearly obnoxious attempt at brownie points.
Opening the beer and sipping out the liquid courage, Martinez enjoyed the sweet, soothing hops and decided to press the issue. He did not hate Shiksie by any means, but her trying to act like Lysa this much was disturbing and took away all the unique charm she usually had.
“Please drop the act, Shiksie. This is supposed to be us enjoying dinner as friends. Not—whatever this is,” Martinez said, gesturing at the table and her skimpy attire.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Shiksie’s attempt at behaving salaciously slipped immediately, returning to her more casual stature and demeanor. She almost fell into her glacial facade in defense of being called out, but Martinez was likely the only person that she did not use that stand-off on regularly, so she did not.
Sitting up straight, the tall feline brushed her hair over her shoulders, crossed her legs, and sighed nearly defeatedly.
“Am I being that unsettling?” Shiksie replied, returning to her usual prim and proper tone, but nowhere near as formal as Lysa.
“Yes, you are,” Martinez sighed, sipping out of the beer before pointing firmly. “What are you trying anyway?”
Shiksie nervously shifted in her chair for a few moments while grumbling no words in particular, or at least if there were any words in there; they were so intently mixed with yowls and sounds of her distraughtness Martinez could not make them out clearly.
“I still want to be with you,” Shiksie admitted while looking at him earnestly, having next to no trouble admitting it. She struggled to tell Martinez once, but now that she already has, this was likely her last opportunity to convince him she would be a better option for his partner than Lysa—she was desperate.
“Shiksie, we talked about this—-I am with Lysa,” Martinez groaned, not understanding what Shiksie seemed to not get about this issue.
He knew that Shiksie’s species practiced monogamy, and she had two parents—-until they died when she was young, but that did not change the reality that for Farun’se and Humans alike, being with one partner was normal.
“I—I—I—know,” Shiksie nervously sputtered and leaned forward slightly as if trying to double down on her attempts at seduction. “Can—we forget my attempt for now—-and at least enjoy dinner? I worked hard on it,” she pressed, hoping that perhaps refocusing from her awkward attempt at being something she was not could help her recover from the situation.
In all reality, trying to be more like Lysa was not her original idea but one of the dozens she had co-opted into tonight's efforts.
Through her research, she came across some advice that told her to be confident, bold, and outgoing. While Lysa certainly wasn’t how Shiksie traditionally thought of being confident, when it came to Martinez she obviously had success. Why would she not emulate her a little?
After all, according to the Human dating guru she had watched dozens of hours of—Sarina Halsen, a woman has to be confident and bold, grab what she wants, and hold herself to the level of or higher than the man they want. Since that was not working, it was time to shift gears to a more gentle, caring effort.
Another method that she had read up on was one of the reasons she had acquired the beer and learned how to make Human food—so she could possibly be more traditional in both Farun’se and Human standards.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Martinez said flatly.
“Please?” Shiksie nearly begged, grabbing his hands and leaning across the table.
Martinez tried to gently withdraw his hands from her soft grip, but Shiksie’s claws gently dug into him, holding him there. Looking into her emerald eyes, her pupils were wide, and she had a gentle, pleading smile.
“Do you understand there is nothing between us besides being friends?” Martinez asked.
Shiksie let go of his hands and stood up, not replying verbally. Instead, she went over to the oven and pulled out the food. Serving a plate for Martinez and herself, quickly returning with two steaming helpings.
“Here, enjoy this. I have plenty more of it and beer for us,” Shiksie purred.
“Us?” Martinez raised an eyebrow.
The Farun’se were barely able to drink any ethanol compared to many other species in the galaxy. Martinez knew she could drink incredibly weak beverages in small amounts, but even something like this 5% ABV beer would be pretty stiff for her.
While he wasn’t sure of the exact amounts from what he knew about the Farun’se, it likely would be bordering on him drinking a quarter bottle of whiskey or any other hard liquor.
“Yes us,” Shiskie said, using one of her claws to open another bottle. “I have done all the research needed. So long as I am not overdoing it, one beer should be perfectly safe. Although—-I still tend to not consume ethanol—but I want to celebrate how you, Lysa, Ivorn, and Sursee could last time.”
That made Martinez wonder: was Shiksie jealous that the others could celebrate in a way she could not? Last time she and Sursee enjoyed some grasses that they huffed, but Sursee only started to do that after having a few boozed-up drinks, granted those were only at most 2% ABV.
Could Shiksie handle any amount of booze? Much less an amount that likely would have her slurring after a bottle.
“Fine, I will stay for dinner, but Shiksie, can we just relax? Work has been hell lately, and I don’t want to leave here with this being something either of us will regret,” Martinez reluctantly said.
Martinez was undoubtedly tense at the moment, not unlike when he was ambushed while working with the Marines. He knew Shiksie had not given up; she was too stubborn for that and likely was just shifting tactics.
Shiksie slowly sipped at the beer as they ate dinner and talked about simple things: Martinez’s plans for school and what he and Lysa planned on doing for their vacation starting the following day.
While talking about their plans tasted as horrible as the beer, she had to slog through it. Until she managed to figure out how to broach what was her last hope to keep Martinez as hers. But she needed some more beer before being that bold.
Plenty of the advice she had read from the Human Relationship gurus included asking someone you are interested in if they might consider a more polyamorous relationship. Although some called it sleeping around, others open relationships, the end result did not seem different in her eyes.
“So, what did you think of the pot roast?” Shiksie asked after finishing her beer a bit faster than she had expected. Any bitter flavor of the acrid beverage had faded halfway through her first bottle.
“It is perfect,” Martinez replied, surprised by how well Shiksie had recreated the Human dish, especially because she had never had the true thing before.
Then again, the fundamental cooking processes could not be too different even here on the far side of the galaxy. They involve rendering fats, saturating, and boiling tubers, as well as finding a suitable substitute for onions and garlic.
Knowing his mentor, she likely researched beef and the other ingredients down to their chemical makeup to ensure dinner was as close to the genuine article as possible. She did, without a doubt, get incredibly close.
“Would you like some more?” Shiksie asked, gesturing to his already empty plate.
“Sure,” Martinez replied, having not missed the slight slur in Shiksie’s voice.
Shiksie pushed back from the table and grabbed both of their plates. Martinez paid keen attention to her as she moved, looking for anything to pick up on her next play; beyond her peeking back at him while serving him a plate, she gave no accurate indication of what she was going to try until she sat back down, a fresh beer in her hand.
“Here you go,” Shiksie said, having sat ever so slightly closer to Martinez, a detail he did not miss, but she was not so close it was raising massive alarm bells. She was just close enough to reach his shoulder if she desired, but nothing more.
As they slowly ate their next serving, Shiksie continued asking Martinez more about his life back home on earth, his hobbies, and other things. He answered earnestly, not that there was much to tell.
He grew up in the ruins of Los Angeles as a result of World War three and the mass amount of strikes at cultural and civilian locations that had been caused. Luckily, Humanity had managed to recover and reach for the stars again before the GU found them, but the warrior and hardy culture that the survivors of the war and his grandparents had been to thank for that desire to recover.
If not for it, the GU likely would have passed Humanity by then.
Shiksie was cute when she was slightly sloshed; even Martinez had to admit it. She was almost disturbingly expressive. Her tail was waving, her ears fluttered, and even her painfully slurred voice expressed that she wanted to learn more about his hobby of video games and Martial arts.
Despite the cuteness, she never does any of that.
“Henrryy, I wanna know.” Shiksie slurred, sipping from her drink now that they both finished a second plate of pot roast.
Martinez looked at her and considered pulling the drink from her hand. She likely was the most drunk she had ever been and likely was going to do something stupid if he did not stop her.
Once she found her train of thought once again, she leaned closer. She lightly plucked at the top of her dress with a claw, likely trying to be seductive, but with how sloshed she was—Martinez would not consider it, and that's before the issues of their professional relationship.
“Have yah ever heard of an open relationship? We could share you?” Shiksie questioned. “Me und Lysa.”
Now Martinez had heard of that before, never in a way that would work well for anyone not entering a relationship with that in mind, and both himself and Lysa were not keen on anything like that. That was all well before crossing the bridge of how inappropriate him and her having a relationship like that would be.
“Shiksie—I have already said I'm not interested,” Martinez said flatly.
“But why noot?” Shiksie pouted, reaching for his hand that he quickly retracted, not letting her get a grip on it.
It was time, Martinez had put up with enough of her attempts for the day, and if she was going to try to ask him for something so stupid, he was just going to put the drunk cat to bed, call her an ass in the morning, and ensure she realized how out of line she was then.
He just had to be prepared for Shiksie crying, begging, and possibly attempting to drunkenly kiss him when he escorted her to the bedroom. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for what a drunk Shiksie was willing to do.
“Come on,” Martinez said, grabbing her arm and trying to lead her to her bedroom so she could crash; she was the equivalent of half a handle in and definitely was not used to drinking and needed someone to be responsible here.
As she stood, she did far more than Martinez ever expected her to do. Shiksie pulled him in close, propped a leg up on the table, and pushed her hips against him. She purred loudly and ground herself against him, pushing her warmth into him.
“Coom on Henree,” Shiskie purred, in what she undoubtedly thought was a sultry tone, but only sounded like she was trying to twist a tale to an equally drunken lover—but Martinez had only had one beer and was not the demographic to be trying that with.
In fact, he was downright pissed, his fist already clenching, readying to clock her. A sloppy kiss from her would have been one thing, not her fucking dry-humping him against the table. Martinez pulled out the remnants of the NCO he had inside him and barked orders.
“Shiksie, stop, right god damn now!” Martinez snapped, trying to gently push her back, not wanting to genuinely hurt his mentor and friend.
Any amount of his prissing did nothing to dissuade her; if anything, it pressed her further and brought some of her kinks to the surface he would rather not know about.
“Oh yiis, I want it roof, tie me up baebee” Shiksie growled, hiking her dress up and leaving her, now apparent to him nude, womanhood to rub against him.
With no thought, Martinez just reacted—violently. This was not just a step too far; this was leagues off the acceptable mark. Martinez never imagined Shiksie, of all people, could end up like this.
Due to the difference in density between the Farun’se and Humans, Martinez outweighed Shiskie by a solid 20 kilos. Most people think your reach matters most in what might be a fight, and that is true for striking; grappling was a whole other ball game. You want to be shorter and heavier.
He grabbed Shiksie’s leg over his side and pressed forward, driving her fully backward while moving his leg behind hers. In one deft motion, Martinez folded Shiksie in half, her back slamming into the deck while her head knocked hard against the fridge.
Shiksie yelped in pain and immediately gave up on attempting to seduce him after having her brain rattled. Instead of pursuing him further, she clutched at her bruised and likely bleeding head, wailing loudly.
Martinez did not even spare the Farun’se woman a glance back as he rushed out of the room. He could hear her crying about how she was broken and was always wrong. But that did not matter to him. He could broach that in an environment where others were there to back him up. He was alone, and at this point, Martinez knew he had to leave.
The only thing he did for Shiksie was text Ivorn to go check on her, telling him he would explain what happened to him later, but Martinez had to leave her in her home like that for now.
Thankfully, Ivorn was understanding and did not question him for the time being.