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A chime reverberated through the room and before he was conscious of it Alex was sitting up, knife in hand and searching for a target. Still looking, he yawned.

The chime came again. "The Lady Dalia Priam is expecting you for breakfast in thirty minutes," a melodious voice said.

Right, they were on her ship, potential new job. How many did that make now? Twenty? Not quite. The old man had been job seventeen. He fell back, his head hitting the pillow and brought the knife to his chest.

He wished he could go back to the dream. He and Tristan had been dancing in a large room, something out of old vids, lots of flashing lights and deep throbbing. Any time their dancing put them close to someone, that person would fall to the ground, dead.

Tristan kissed him, and he moaned.

He looked down at himself. Yeah, it had been that great of a kiss.

It was that touch that had caused the dream, he was sure of it.Even now he could still feel the Samalian's fingers brushing his arm. He knew it was an act on his part. Those little touches, those glances Alex barely caught were calculated to cause him to react just this way. To let him think there was a chance that he cared. That the cold calculating killer was slowly melting away to reveal what?

Nothing, that's what.

Tristan didn't care, he used.

And Alex didn't mind that anymore. Looked forward to it in fact.

With a sigh he got out of bed and left the room to wash. Tristan was at the table, reading. The only indication he had moved from there at some point was that the glass was gone.

The Samalian looked up at him as he walked through the lounge, nodded and went back to reading. He hadn't even reacted to his naked body. Yeah, he didn't care. Even when he used him for relief, especially then, he never gave any indication he thought of Alex as anything other than a tool.

He ran the shower cool, borderline cold.

His weapon, Tristan called him, and Alex certainly killed enough people by now to qualify as one.

He closed his eyes and felt the touch against his arm, without wanting to, he felt it against his back, his neck. Memories of another dream, one more intimate, being used, but with care, tenderness. Tristan whispering in ears, listing the people Alex had killed for him.

His body reacted, but he didn't do anything about it. He didn't want to give into those fantasies, it would make the reality that much harder to bear.

He scrubbed himself, dried and by the time he left the washroom there was no indication of what he'd been thinking about. Tristan could probably smell it, even over the cleaner he'd used, but he couldn't do anything about that.

His clothes were folded on the dresser, having been washed during the night. He dressed, put the knife in its sheath, attached that to his forearm, along with the other and the one for is calf, and rejoined Tristan at the table.

There was a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him.

"Thanks."

"Six minutes."

Alex nodded. He sipped the coffee, and activated his implant. He listened in, then gave a few instructions. The answer came back.

"We're getting an escort."

Tristan nodded.

By the time Alex finished his coffee and disposed of the cup the door chimed.

Tristan opened it and a young looking man in a pale yellow uniform was standing there, wringing his hands nervously.

"Sirs, the Lady Dalia Priam would like your company for breakfast." He swallowed under the Samalian's gaze.

Tristan held him transfixed for a few seconds then nodded. He put the datapad away and motioned for the young man to lead the way.

They entered a lift, and Alex didn't feel it move, but the computer told him their destination was the Priam habitation section, on the other side of the ship.

It was in times like this he wished he'd gone for an optical implant to compliment his coercing one. He could overlay a map of the ship and track their movements. He also wouldn't need a terminal to see code, but he'd still need one to coerce, so he'd decided it would be more of a distraction.

He'd heard rumors of a suite of implants that allowed someone to act as a terminal, enabling full communication and manipulation, but he hadn't been able to confirm its existence, and even if he did, just what would have to be added or replaced? It was one thing to connect an implant to his hearing, or eyesight, but to allow that level of interaction had to require brain modifications, and he wasn't sure he wanted that.

The lift stopped. The corridors had a livelier feel to them. Plants lined the walls, some he recognized, but most looked like nothing he'd ever seen. One seemed to move its leaves to track them. Their guide reached a door and stepped out of the way as it opened. He motioned for them to enter.

The room was vast. A hangar of a room in a cream color. The floor looked to be marbled stone. The walls might be wood, with seats and curtains adding texture. The back wall shimmered and then showed the blackness of space.

The only piece of furniture away from the walls was a large table, set up at one end for three people. Three places out of what? Thirty? Forty? Ostentatious didn't even begin to describe this.

A door on the left wall opened and Lady Dalia entered. She was wearing a pale brown dress, with a design in red that shimmered on and off. Her blond hair was held behind her head this time.

She smiled at them, At Tristan. He was the one who mattered, Alex was just the accessory that came with him. Something tastefully understated to enhance Tristan's countenance? He might as well be a shirt for all the attention she gave him.

"Please take a seat." She sat at the head of the table. Tristan took the seat on her right so Alex took the one on the left. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Tristan answered.

There were a dozen dishes before them filled with a variety of food. Eggs; scrambled, fried, over easy. Meat; in slabs, cut in cubes, in thin strips. Fruits and vegetables, raw, roasted, steamed. And there were pitchers after pitchers of juices. It went on, a lot of it Alex couldn't identify. Enough food to feed at least a dozen people.

"I expect that in your line of work you don't often get to enjoy such luxury." She placed slices of a steaming...fruit? On her plate. It had pale orange flesh with a dark maroon skin that looked waxy.

"No." Tristan put slabs of meat on his and began eating.

Alex went for the scrambled eggs and the cubed meat.

"I'm wondering," she asked after taking a small bit of the fruit. "Is there anything I can do to entice you to work for me directly? I could make it very rewarding for you, and your associate," she added after a moment.

"No." Tristan ate in a methodological manner, cutting a piece of the meat off and then eating it. He didn't show any enjoyment of what Alex had to admit was extremely good food. But Tristan only showed emotions when he was wearing a mask, manipulating a mark. He wasn't bothering with that here.

"Really?" She smiled and reached to place a hand on Tristan. "Maybe you should listen to what I have to offer before refusing." He moved his hand just as hers would have made contact, reaching to take a pitcher and filling his glass with the deep red liquid. If she realized that it had been a calculated move, she didn't show it.

"No." He drained the glass and went back to cutting his meat.

"Surely you can see the advantages working for me would bring you. I have influence, wealth. You could live in comfort between jobs, enjoy yourself however you wanted."

Tristan paused in the middle of cutting. He looked at her, a smile forming, his lips stretching until he was showing sharp, predatory teeth. "You wouldn't like how I enjoy myself."

Alex had an image of Tristan shoving her against a wall, getting his relief hard and fast, her in pain, and found his appetite vanishing. He forced himself to keep eating. He knew he wouldn't do that, not unless a job called for it.

Her smile became brittle. "Is violence all that you enjoy?"

"It's all that I'd enjoy here." He finished cutting and then ate.

"Surely you enjoy quieter things, find pleasure in other things than violence."

Alex thought he caught Tristan looking at him, but by the time he glanced up, the Samalian was focused on his food.

"Any idea when your grandfather will be ready to talk?" Tristan had cleaned his plate.

She pursed her lips, then relaxed. "The doctors tell me it will be a few more hours before they are done cleaning his system. They don't want to wake him before that's done." She'd barely touched her fruit.

Tristan nodded. He filled his glass with an amber liquid, drained it and stood. "In that case, we'll see you then."

She stiffened.

Alex stood and joined Tristan, walking at his side as they headed for the door. Alex listened as commands were sent to it. He glanced at Tristan, and received a shake of the head.

The door didn't open. Tristan reached for the control but just before his finger touched it, it opened. The Lady making a point of reminding them whose ship they were on.

"Do you think there's a point where she'll be angry enough not to care about this job she wants us to take?"

"If she does, we'll leave."

"By that point, she is going to make it very interesting for us to reach the ship."

"Then maybe we need to give her a demonstration of why that would be a bad idea. Find me a gymnasium with fighting equipment."

Alex asked the ship and when they reached the lift he directed it there.

* * * * *

The gym was large, but not quite matching the breakfast room. The floor was divided into squares and circles and in a few of them men and women were fighting. Most were unarmed, but a few had weapons, staves, knives and a pair even fought with swords.

"Take off your jacket and shirt."

"I hope you're not planning on having us fight naked. I don't think they'll appreciate that." Naked was how Tristan insisted they trained. No armor or other protection. Considering the state those fights left Alex, if it had been anyone else he would think he enjoyed seeing him excited.

"Remove your knives too, all of them."

"Does that mean you're going to keep your claws in?" Alex threw his jacket on a chair, added his shirt to it and then the knives.

"We are going to use something else this time." Tristan took something off the wall and threw them at Alex.

He grabbed them, one in each hands; He was holding afoot and a half long sticks of what looked like wood. On a hunch he tapped them together and sparks erupted.

He saw Tristan move and had the sticks up to parry the blow, sparks cascading off them. He backed up and side stepped, getting a feel for the weapons. By the way Tristan moved them he was used to them. Of course he was. The Samalian seemed to know how to use absolutely every weapon in existence.

He struck again and Alex jumped back, there was a 'ding' and he noticed the circle they were now in flash on and off. They were now officially in the fighting ring.

Tristan came at him hard, but Alex had a sense of the sticks now and he parried the blows easily, stepping aside each time, following the line but not getting too close. He had a feeling he wouldn't like what would happen if he tried crossing it.

Alex fell in the rhythm of the moves, their stick clanging with sparks. Then, when he moved for the next parry, Tristan's sticks weren't there. He didn't move in time, realizing he'd been lulled into this on purpose.

The stick impacted his shoulder and pain sent him reeling to the side and falling to a knee. It wasn't the blow that had him seeing stars, it was the electricity. He gritted his teeth and stood, just as Tristan said.

"Up."

The Samalian was stepping away, his back to him. Alex only had one working arm, but he didn't let this stop him. It only took him two steps to reach him, but Tristan's ear twitched and Alex knew the attack was expected. He jumped back at the last minute and the stick passed through the air.

He steadied himself and blocked the coming blows. Tristan wasn't striking as fast as he could. But fast enough to keep Alex on the defensive with only one stick.

He didn't let the tingling in his hand distract him. It was sensation coming back. He kept track of where his fallen one had ended up, near the delineation of the circle.

On Tristan's next attack Alex rushed him and managed to plant an elbow in the Samalian's side. He threw himself to the floor and grabbed the stick and rolled aside from the coming foot. He was back on his feet, still attacking Tristan one-handed. His other hand hadn't regained enough strength to do more than hold the stick.

He spun out of Tristan's reach, caught sight of someone standing by an elevated window then blocked an incoming blow.

"Your admirer is here." He attacked, and when Tristan brought the stick down to parry Alex struck the hand with his other stick.

Tristan's hand spasmed and the stick went rolling on the floor outside the circle. Alex smiled and step away.

Tristan shook his hand, regaining control of it faster than Alex had. They circled each other. Alex wouldn't win. It didn't matter that he had both stick to his one. Tristan only got more dangerous when he seemed to be in an inferior position.

If this was for fun, Alex might have been interested in continuing like this, but it was never for fun with the Samalian. Alex threw his sticks aside.

"Why don't we really fight?"

Tristan smiled. "Are you sure?"

Alex dodged out of the way of the stick that flew at him. Then he was running at the Samalian, fists flying and connecting, but not anywhere they were felt.

When Tristan struck back, Alex felt it, but he didn't show it. He took it and attacked again. He was always sore after sparing with him, but that was what painkillers were for.

When Alex attacked this time he went for the side, managed to get under Tristan's defense and connect hard enough the Samalian winced. They separated and Alex planned his next blow. If he'd been human, Alex would have gone for his neck, but Samalian necks had a bone structure under the skin that protected the windpipe.

If he hadn't been Tristan, he would go for the groin, but that would just piss him off, and an angry Tristan wasn't someone Alex wanted to deal with, ever.

Tristan attacked first, a flurry of blows that kept Alex on the defensive until he let a fist get through, gritting back a gasp and kneed Tristan in the same side he'd struck earlier.

When Tristan came at him again, Alex no longer had the time to think or plan. The Samalian was moving too fast, all he could do was rely on the instincts that Tristan had pounded into him over these last years.

When Alex finally fell to the floor and didn't get up after being instructed to he looked at the time. He'd lasted almost an extra minute from their last sparring match. He closed his eyes.

Someone clapped and he opened them.

"That was very good," Lady Dalia said. "You're reputation as a fighter is well deserved I see."

Alex chuckled, then gasped. "This wasn't fighting." He forced himself to sit. She looked in his direction, annoyed. "If you don't see any dead bodies, then he isn't fighting." He readied himself and bit back a groan as he got to his feet. "That was training. You don't want to see him fight, you don't have the constitution for it."

"Alex." Tristan didn't have to add more. The warning was in the tone.

Alex was in enough pain to almost not care. He didn't like how that woman was looking at Tristan. It didn't matter that he knew Tristan had no interest in her, a part of him wanted them to be away from her.

When Alex didn't say anything Tristan looked at her. "Did you come here only to watch us train?"

She looked Tristan over and Alex held back a growl. That expression of hers made it clear what she wanted to do. Alex fixed his gaze on Tristan's expressionless face. He knew what she wanted. He probably saw far more nuances in the look than Alex could, but he didn't give any hint of what he thought.

The disappointment was clear on her face when she looked at Tristan's. "No, I came to inform you that the doctors have finished with my grandfather. Once you've cleaned up come to the Geofam Hospital." She turned and left.

Tristan grabbed Alex's jacket and shirt and motioned for the open hall opposite where Lady Dalia had left from. Alex could hear showers as they headed there.

The hall opened into a room with lockers. Tristan opened one and put the jacket and shirt in it. "You're jealous."

"Don't act surprised. It's what you wanted." He didn't lower his voice, much. The couple getting dressed on the other side of the room glanced in their direction.

Tristan gave him a surprised look.

Alex rolled his eyes. "You wanted me to get attached, and you know how to do it. You think I haven't noticed the looks you throw my way when you think I think you can't see me looking? Well, this is me feeling attached when someone like that looks at you like you're nothing more than another notch in her tally of conquests." He got out of his pants and looked for the automated cleaner.

When he looked at Tristan after throwing his pants in it, the Samalian's face was guarded.

"I'm not going to throw a fit, for one thing it wouldn't do any good, you'd just beat me for it. I haven't been angry about it in a long time. I know my place. So you don't need to bother with them anymore." He headed for the showers. He didn't need to see Tristan naked right now. His control was sufficiently frayed that he wouldn't be able to keep from reacting to the sight.

He hurried for a stall when just the thought of it caused a reaction. He didn't mind being naked in public anymore. It might be because of his fur, not that it hid anything important as far as Alex was concerned, but Tristan didn't believe in clothing unless he was working, so Alex had had to learn to be comfortable with it. But showing his excitement, that was another thing completely.

The shower came on as he entered the stall, the water too warm for him. When it was cool enough he stepped under the jet and began washing. Water showers were something he missed when he couldn't get it so he enjoyed everyone he took. Not all of Tristan's ships were as well equipped as the one they were currently using.

He felt the presence behind him, more than heard the door open, and berated himself for getting too wrapped up in his thoughts. He hurried to rinse the soap out of his hair and face then turned, only to find the door partially opened, but no one there.

Maybe it had just been someone who hadn't noticed he was there until they'd opened the door.