Kidnapped (8 page)

Travis answered dryly, "I wasn't going to, but you're making it sound tempting."

*****

There were treats on display on top of the counter, and Travis picked one on random and shoved it into his mouth, wondering what all the fuss about candy was about. It was sweet, but that still didn't mean anything to him. He suspected this would change with time with Patricia, just like so many other things already had, but for now, foods were just nutrition necessary to keep the body functioning.

He shrugged it off and returned his attention to the owner, who started to appear more exasperated than frightened. This situation must be corrected if the adventure was to end well. Leaning forward, he stared at the other man. "We will require an assortment of your merchandise delivered to my ship within an hour, and to use your office."

He might not have known the first thing about normal people, women, relationships, or even her planet a couple of weeks earlier, but he was a quick learner and an excellent strategist, and he wanted a safe place to check up on his girl before they went any further. Her near breakdown before they left the ship worried him more than he wanted to show. He understood her fear, and he would probably be able to pull rank on or scare almost everyone they met, but it was easier not to get into that situation in the first place.

The storeowner pulled him back to reality through making a face, more aggravated than scared now. "Are you going to pay for it this time?"

Travis moved quickly. His gloved hand had a firm grip around the other man's neck before Patricia could blink, and he said in a deceivingly gentle voice, "How about, I pay through not shooting your head off?"

The man had turned pale as a sheet, and Travis continued almost merrily, "Or maybe some hard labor in one of the prison colonies would do you good?"

It was impossible to make out the man's words, but he interpreted it as wanting to cooperate. He was probably scaring his girl, so he released his grip, and the owner rubbed his throat with one hand, bringing out a box with the other.

As he handed Patricia the little box, watching her hand tremble slightly, Travis thought his reputation might be exaggerated, but just a little. A day or so earlier he might very well have shot everyone in sight just to make a point, or because he felt like it. Now, he had better things to do. Things like watching her try to figure out what to do with the box; she was struggling to look decisive as she carefully put a treat in it. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, striking a pose of complete lack of interest.

It didn't take long until she seemed ready to close the lid. He glanced into the box and wanted to roll his eyes at the meager contents. This just wouldn't do. He said, "It's a long journey," and tipped the contents of a random plate into it. Putting it on the counter, he glared at the owner, "You know what to do with that. Don't be late."

Turning abruptly, Travis headed for the back and slammed the office door open. Once Patricia was inside, he pulled the simple lock shut and gestured to her to be quiet while he scanned for surveillance. When he could afford to relax for a moment, he trailed his eyes over her face. She looked pale and tired. He smiled and brushed a lock of her hair away, asking quietly, "How are you doing?"

The question seemed to confuse her, and it took several seconds before she answered, "Okay, I think."

He didn't know what to do. Nothing in his training or history told him how to handle a girl, so he went with instinct and brushed his lips softly against hers. The result was immediate and rewarding; she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself a little against him, seeking comfort. Feeling her so close made it difficult to think. These new emotions were so strong, and he hadn't had much time to learn to handle them.

A lifetime of discipline prevailed, and he pushed her away gently after a couple of seconds, mumbling more to himself than to her, "Good idea, bad time and place."

Trying to sound mischievous failed and his words came out rather serious, "I think we have to, eh, push him around a little."

They were playing a high game, and appearance was everything. He whispered his plan in her ear, just in case someone was listening outside.

Chapter Nine

Patricia would have liked to stay in the little office, but it wasn't an option, and when they returned to the store, she wrinkled her nose and exclaimed in a repulsed voice, "That place is filthy. Unsanitary. I will order an inspection, as soon as I get back to base."

She wished, not for the first and certainly not for the last time, that she'd stayed on the ship, or why not that she'd never gone out driving on that fateful evening back on Earth. This adventure was too much for her, and Travis's world was much too brutal and frightening, showing sides of him she'd rather forget. Her lover pulled her from her thoughts as he shrugged and suggested, "Why don't I just shoot him? That will set an example."

It was a horrible idea, but she had to play her part, so she nodded thoughtfully and snagged a treat up from the counter. "Yes. Yes, I like it. I think the Supreme Commander would too."

Travis touched his artificial hand with a thoughtful look on his face. Patricia watched the storeowner cower behind the counter, about to start pleading for his life. She felt bad for him, but she didn't think Travis would really hurt him. Not in front of her anyway... She took a bite out of the candy and found it much better than she would have ever expected, so when she exclaimed, "Oooh, this is good," it was completely honest.

She munched it down, and felt a little guilty for enjoying that Travis waited patiently for her to continue. Making a dismissive gesture in the air, she exclaimed, "No, these are really good, it would be a pity to kill him. We don't have any more time for this anyway."

She swept out of the door, proud of her own performance. She tried not to glance back, but still saw Travis snatch up a couple of treats, wink at the owner, and comment, "Behave yourself."

As soon as they got outside, he dropped the small wrapped chocolates in her hand and flashed a warm smile that would certainly have made anyone looking think there was something very wrong with the picture. Luckily, no one was looking.

Patricia wondered what just happened. Travis had mentioned casually that his implant was good for shooting people, but she hadn't taken it seriously until she saw how it frightened the man in the store. He had also mentioned he had killed more people than she could count, but she hadn't been paying attention.

All the pieces were coming together in her mind. She hadn't only been taken prisoner by a suppressive police-state, she had also fallen in love with their most infamous executioner and tormentor. Her instincts that first day on the ship had been correct; at that point in time, he would have broken her neck without thinking twice about it. Still, she told herself to keep from shaking, it wasn't like he'd ever had a choice. He wasn't that person anymore, and anyone could change for the better. Right?

She realized Travis was holding his arm out to her with a polite look on his face, and she wrapped her hands around it and smiled a little. No matter how strange the world might be, touching him made her feel better, and she didn't doubt that her man, as strange and even frightening as he might seem at times, actually did care for her.

*****

Strolling through the station, Patricia forced all her thoughts away, and she was grateful for being able to walk arm in arm with her lover. It was much easier than trying to appear determined all alone, and focusing on him made looking at everything else much less tempting. She was still relieved when they reached the restaurant.

The foyer surprised her. It looked just like an expensive French restaurant back home, furnished with dark wood and red velvet, and a silver-haired man stood behind a little counter, just like they would on Earth. He wore dark pants, an immaculate white shirt, and a dark red jacket, and she flashed him a smile.

At first, the maître-d only saw her, and he frowned. He looked in his ledger in a fashion that
really
reminded her of expensive restaurants back home, and then Travis stepped up to the little counter, letting his gloved hand fall down heavily on the book. The head waiter jumped and blinked several times when he realized who just walked in through the front door, and Travis smiled. It surprised her to find that at this moment, it just made him look more dangerous. "The lady wishes to have dinner."

The older man nodded several times, frantically looking in his guest list. "We don't have any tables ready right now, but if you tell me where you want to sit, I'll make one."

She didn't doubt that he intended to throw someone else out. Then, the man continued hurriedly, "Unless, of course, I could give you your own room?"

He looked hopefully at Patricia, "Do you want your own room? It'll be nice. I'll tend to you myself, and you'll be completely undisturbed."

She thought it sounded like a great idea, but Travis narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to keep us away from the other guests?"

The maître-d shook his head frantically and Patricia felt sorry for him. Travis was probably right, but she couldn't blame the man for wanting to separate the Alliance from the paying guests. "I just thought the lady might want some privacy, nothing else, I swear."

Now might be a good time to try that decisiveness he wanted from her, before he got the good idea to kill the man to set an example or something, and she said evenly, "I'm not in the mood to mingle."

Travis nodded, and shoved a list of her top ten courses to try in the man's hand. "We will have these, and ten of each delivered to my ship. Have them there within an hour."

She tried to look influential as she followed the older man to their very own room, and she nodded approvingly when he asked if it was alright. She waited for him to pull her chair out, and she didn't say anything even when he left and she and Travis were facing each other over the table. Her lover shook his head ever so little, and she understood, saying with a little wrinkle on her nose, "I do hope this kitchen is cleaner than the other one."

It wasn't a brilliant line, but it was the best she could come up with. She could tell from Travis's eyes he was amused, but he just answered calmly, "It will be. The Supreme Commander frequents this place. Do you wish to inspect it?"

Shaking her head, she answered, doing her best to sound as calm as he did, "No, Commander, that will not be necessary."

He nodded with an air of, "as you wish," and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes. She was thinking fervently of what she might do or say that could seem official, but absolutely nothing came to mind, so she just sat there, waiting, with her back straight and head held high, trying not to show her heart was pounding hard with fright.

She wondered why she'd had to open her big mouth the evening before. If she hadn't said anything, they'd still be on the ship. Being hungry seemed much easier than all this. At least she hadn't chosen anything looking like soup. Solid foods could be eaten safely even with a hand slightly shaking.

It only took a few minutes before a waiter returned with a drink-list, and she wondered why she hadn't even thought about this becoming a problem. The list had holographic pictures, but they didn't help all that much. Everything looked completely foreign. Travis saved her smoothly through ordering something for both of them. She didn't know what it was, but she did know she would pretend to love it, no matter what it tasted like.

The drinks and all their food arrived very quickly, and she suspected they'd gotten whatever was cooking for the other customers. No matter what people had to pay for this, they would have to wait in order to keep the Alliance officer happy.

The ten courses filled the table and Patricia gawked at the abundance of food, hoping she didn't look as helpless as she felt. A waiter stayed in the room, ready to tend to their every need, but Travis nodded to him to go away, and he left very quietly.

She grabbed something that looked like a fork and poked carefully at the food closest to her, trying to look like she knew exactly what she was doing. When she actually tried it, the flavour overwhelmed her palate, and it wasn't just because she'd been living on those little energy-bars for such a long time. This food was truly excellent.

Travis sipped his drink, and she could have sworn the corners of his mouth were twitching as he watched her. She pointed towards the plate with her fork and said, working hard not to sound too excited, "You should try this. It's very good."

She had expected him to shake his head, but he reached for the plate and munched the food, patiently trying everything she told him to.

The waiters peeked in from time to time, making sure they had everything they might desire, and she wished she could have asked for a doggy bag and brought whatever remained from each course back to the ship. She was quite sure that if she did, the waiters would find a way to accommodate her wish or die, but she also thought doggy bags couldn't possibly be the behaviour of anyone in the Alliance.

*****