" "I need help." "I need help. What's the difference between roasting and broiling? She laughed. "Okay, let me show you..." "I thought you had said your room was a mess." "It was," David replied, taking a sip of wine he really didn't feel like drinking. "At least, it was until a few hours ago." David glanced across the table at the femMephit he had invited in here. They had had one night in bed together, and already he was sure he wanted to have her for the rest of his life. These were not the feelings of a sane person, but then David had never heard of anyone who referred to love as the epitome of sanity. Denni nodded, sipping from her glass as well. "So what's all this about?" David leaned back in his chair, took another deep breath. "Denni, I'm a rat who's always known what he wants and how to get it. And what I always wanted was to be a commercial starship owner-operator." He chuckled slightly. "Of course, when I was little I didn't know it was called that. I just wanted to be in space. I'm not enjoying this wine. I don't drink wine." Denni giggled. "Me neither." "There's milk in the cooler." Denni rose and retrieved the glass pitcher of what appeared to be milk (although it was probably as artifical as everything else onboard) and poured two glasses, one for each of them. "So." David drank for a second. "Better. So... Denni, I don't know how to say this, really, but I think I need a change in my life. I've been doing this shipping thing for forty years now, I think I've got the score figured out." He paused. "I want you." Denni stopped, her glass still to her muzzle. She put it down, said "What do you mean?" "Denni, I don't know what you know of Terran customs, but... would you marry me?" "David?" "I mean it." "You hardly know me!" "So? Don't you believe in love at first sight?" "Yes, but not for..." She looked at him. "You felt it, too, huh?" "What?" She shook her head. |