Back to Cygnus. And clothing. Or lack thereof. That was a better subject, as far as Iain was concerned.

So, she’d kept his shirt, and, for the first few days had co-opted the rest of those he’d managed to 3D print. Why? They couldn’t find her clothes, and Skipper had revoked 3D privileges on account of what Arc and Arl had started producing, not that Iain could blame it, given how nasty those weapons they were trying to create. And Cygnus didn’t complain, seemed to prefer the shirts he’d previous replicated for himself.

“Just getting used to you,” she told him.

The only other clothes which were readily available were the blue and orange coveralls the pair wore and rotated through. Not something Cygnus liked, and Iain wasn’t going to debate that. Neither did she appear bothered when the shortness of some of his shirts on her made him stare when they revealed her ‘lower decks’.

“Ugh,” had her response to the twin’s offer of sharing their clothes.

The situation lasted for about a week. And then she ran into the lounge at lunchtime with a stack if blue squares in her hands.

Iain was trying still trying to teach Arc and Arl how to play chess. It still wasn’t going too well. The two had gotten over their whole confusion over how bishops moved, but they still were completely flummoxed by the concept of castling, not to mention how a pawn became a queen. That was kind of like the problems they had with kinging in checkers. It had made them quite easy to beat, so there was that. When she ran in he had a 185-0 streak going.

Suddenly, without warning, Arc castled his king, drawing Iain’s attention back to the board.

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“Clothes,” Cygnus slapped the stack on the table, beside the board. “Wasn’t going to wait any longer so I figured it out. Now.”

Iain looked up from the game that had for the first time in weeks become the least bit interesting.

“Now?” he said. “These guys have finally figured out how to castle. You don’t know how long this has taken.”

Cygnus looked over the board then made twelve moves, for both sides.

“Checkmate,” she said. He’d lost. Iain stared at the board, then looked over at Cygnus. She ignored his dirty look. “Happy. He finally beat you. Now, clothes.”

She pressed a finger into the stack of blue cloth squares on the table, then stripped off his shirt. Iain stared at her, then glanced at Arl who was still grinning at the chessboard. Iain had seen her naked a bunch of times since they’d dismembered her ex. You’ve got to discuss that at some point, he reminded himself again. But she hadn’t demonstrated her birthday suit in the presence of either Arc or Arl before.

“We’ve got company,” Iain told her, at a loss of what to say other than that. Cygnus glanced over at the brother, her longish cornrow hair swinging around as she did.

Arl gave her a once over, snorted.

“Nah…,” Arl offered, giving her a good look. “I’m a cloaca guy. What she’s got just doesn’t work for me. It’s all in one or nothing.”

“She doesn’t have a…” Arc started, then wiggled a hand under his chin. “If you’re going to turn me on, you’re going to need to have a decent wattle as well.”

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” Iain suggested feeling increasingly embarrassed.

“Hmmm,” Cygnus said, glanced over at the pair, then back at him. “Maybe you’re right. With all those pieces on the table, it could get a bit uncomfortable.”

Iain perked right up at the smirk she was offering him. Had that just been a proposition?

“We’ll practice while you’re gone,” Arl suggested, getting the hint.

Cygnus grabbed his Iain’s hand, pulled a bit hard.

“Let’s go,” she said. “I can’t wait to have some decent clothes again. Don’t forget to grab the material.”

Iain allowed himself to be dragged out of there quite willingly.