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Bounty to Booty [A Green Alien Space Babe TG Story] - Part 1
🕑 Added 2024-12-19 23:31:11 +0000 UTCCommissioned Anonymously
This story is set in the same universe as Out of This World and Space Cow Girl, but can be read as a standalone piece.
Magnus is yet another bounty hunter who felt the sting of Dr. Pace’s transforming needles. Now he’s a petite, curvy, green-skinned space babe who doesn’t know how to fight. He travels to the alien homeworld in the hopes of finding a teacher, but instead, he finds love and a new way of life.
~
Magnus sat at the bar, his palms closed around the cold beer. He kept his gaze down, expression Neutral and closed off, but he could still feel eyes on him for all the wrong reasons. He'd been coming to this bar for years. It was one of the shadiest little watering holes on Thebe Station, and only the rough or desperate visited. The bartender knew his order by heart and was glad for it; most people were happy to keep conversations with Magnus short.
Today was different, though. Nobody recognised him in this new body, and he couldn't have stood out more if he had tried. As a gruff, human man, he’d once felt at home in a room full of scarred-up drug dealers and bounty hunters, but now as a green-skinned, curvaceous Andite woman, he stood out like a sore thumb. Just a few hours ago, he’d been himself out on the job doing what he thought would be an easy hunt. Magnus, as a bounty hunter, chased down smugglers, murderers, and even other bounty hunters, so a Plumarian scientist shouldn’t have been an issue. Then, the sneaky thing had stuck him with a needle, and his whole life had changed. His strong, square body had turned curvy; he’d shrunk down to just five and a half feet tall. His skin had turned green, his ass plump, and his chest round and bouncy.
Andites were a peaceful race, small and weak, with large doe-like eyes and soft, sensitive antennae. He’d almost never come into contact with them in his line of work. The only reason he even recognised what he’d been turned into was because of all the romance novels and stream dramas they featured in. Humanity had loved the concept of the green alien space babe before they had even been confirmed to exist. Once they found out, they did? All bets were off.
Magnus sipped at his beer, trying to take comfort in the familiar hoppy taste and not think about how his full, sensual lips felt pressing against the rim of the glass. His trenchcoat was pulled tight around his body to hide his nakedness. It was the only piece of clothing that didn’t fall off him when he tried to walk.
Still, even with all the extra space, his chest and butt seemed impossible to hide. The belt cinched tightly at his waist to keep the clothing on, further accentuating his delicate, hourglass frame, and his cleavage spilled out no matter how many times he tried to tug the coat closed. He shifted on the stool, marvelling at just how much more comfortable the hard metal was now that he had more padding. His plump read spilled over the edges of the small stool, pressing against the coat and stretching it tight over the curve. He could feel men staring, and his face burned in shame. A bounty hunter had to be intimidating and inconspicuous; in this body, he was neither.
“Sweetheart, I think you’d better get goin’” The bartender leaned down and whispered roughly.
“I’m not finished,” Magnus said gruffly.
Normally, that would be all it took: a hard look and the bartender would scurry away, along with anybody thinking of trying something. This time, he just gave Magnus a pitying smile.
“I don't know what you’re trying to prove by coming to a place like this, but you need to go before you get hurt.” He said. “Some of the fella’s in here don’t take too kindly to interlopers.”
Magnus bit the inside of his cheek; he was anything but an interloper, but how could he explain that? The last thing he needed was his reputation going down the toilet because people knew what he’d been turned into. With a frustrated huff, he downed the rest of his beer, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and jumped off his seat. Only to immediately stumble; he’d had one beer. Why did he feel so…drunk?
“I did warn you that it was a heavier beer.” The bartender sighed. “A little thing like you…”
Magnus glared at him, only to get another pitying smile. He wanted to shove his phaser right down that man’s throat! Maybe then he wouldn't make snide comments. He’d been able to down three of those beers without feeling tipsy. Now, one was enough to knock him off kilter. He knew being smaller would affect his tolerance, but this much? Magnus looked around the room and saw several hungry eyes raking over him; he was ripe for the picking, and they knew it.
“Just try it…” He whispered before storming out into the dark, underlit hallway of the space station. He’d walked these halls plenty, but tonight was the first time he felt on edge about it. Vulnerability was such an alien feeling; he hated it. Especially when a shadow cast over him as a man stepped out to block his path. Bulky, human, with distinctive dark circles under his eyes that marked him as a user.
“Alright, sweetheart, let’s make it easy. Hand over your credit chip, and you can go home without that pretty little face getting bruised.”
Magnus smirked; this idiot had no idea what a mistake he’d made. He stepped back and waved the man forward arrogantly. A good fight was exactly what he needed to vent out the frustrations of the day.
“Bring it on.”
The man lunged, and Magnus ducked as the punch went wide, expertly dodging backwards, only to lose his balance and fall back onto his ass. His head swam slightly with alcohol, and his centre of gravity had shifted. He only just managed to dove out of the way when the man turned to grab him.
“Ow!” He groaned, landing on his chest and feeling his sensitive breasts crush against the hard, metal floor.
“Dammit!”
He didn't know how to fight in this body! He tried to roll over, but before he could, the man had grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back to his feet. A hand reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out his credit stick. With a growl, Magnus tried to grab it back but the man stopped him with a quick kick to the gut. It winded him. He tried to pull free, but his damn muscles felt like jelly. This body was so much smaller and weaker than the one he was used to. With a smirk, the man threw him against the wall and ran for it. By the time Magnus got to his feet, he was long gone.
“Fuck it!” He slammed his fist against the station wall, wincing at how much the action hurt now. “This body is too damn delicate!”
There was no use; he couldn’t keep working like this. Even a mark like Dr. Pace would be impossible to catch in this body; he’d have to learn how to use it. But how? Nobody on Thebe station would know how to teach an Andite to fight. He rubbed his knuckles in thought; if nobody on Thebe could help him. He’d just have to go to the Andite homeworld and find somebody who could.
Getting to Andoria proved a bit more difficult than he had originally planned. It was hard to buy a ticket on a transport if your credit stick had been stolen. Like most in his profession, Magnus didn't have a lot in the way of material worth. His shoebox apartment contained a standard-issue bed, a dresser, a handful of clothes that no longer fit, and his weapons. The clothes only sold for a few measly credits and selling weapons was only viable with a current ID. There was the black market, of course, but after last night, he didn't think braving the station's shadier areas was a good idea.
No matter how much bravado he put on, no matter how stern he made his face, nobody would be afraid of him. Even if he did manage to sell for a decent price, those creds Would be gone in seconds, thanks to another mugger. No, he had to figure out another angle. There was one other thing a good bounty hunter needed; and that was creativity.
He sat on a bench in the transport depo, waiting for the perfect mark. He hated that he’d been reduced to pickpocketing, but what other option did he have? He tightened the belt around his trenchcoat, feeling his breasts shift as the fabric tightened around them. They were such a nuisance, how did women of any species deal with them? He looked down at the cleavage with annoyance, then back up and his eyes met another’s. The man quickly looked away, his face turning red as he hurried to a terminal.
“Interesting…” Magnus’ eyes narrowed.
He turned his attention back to potential marks, but this time, instead of focusing on who had the most obvious cred stick, he looked at their faces. It seemed like every second man he glanced at looked away quickly, blushing or looking slightly flustered. They were…checking him out.
“That feels a little weird…” He admitted to himself. “But it could be useful…”
Magnus was a red-blooded man, under all the tits and ass. Maybe he could use that to his advantage, even if it was humiliating. He adjusted himself one last time, tying the belt as tight as he could to accentuate his waist, breasts and figure, then headed for one of the ticket windows. His hips had a natural sway to them now. With an ass this round, they couldn’t help it, but Magnus added a little extra flare to it this time. He could feel the long coast swishing around his thighs; it felt oddly empowering despite the embarrassment.
He picked the ticket window manned by a young human; he was pale, with thin features and a thick set of glasses. He was the sort who wouldn’t often get attention from the ladies, a perfect mark for this new kind of mission. He wet his lips and took a deep breath as he stepped to the front of the line.
“I’m looking for a transport to Andoria.” He said huskily, leaning forward so that his breasts rested against the ticket counter. “Preferably sooner rather than later?”
The young man behind the desk swallowed, and Magnus watched as his eyes ducked down, then up again. He was used to that look, but usually, the nerves were because of the massive gun strapped to his hip, not a full chest.
“Sure, uh, there is one leaving in just a few hours actually, and there are a few spots left.”
“Wonderful,” Magnus said before making a big show of checking every pocket in his coat. “Oh no, my cred stick! Somebody must have taken it.”
“O-Oh…” The young man stammered. “Did you want me to call security?”
“Oh no, they won't find it in time. There was only enough for a ticket on there anyway.” Magnus pouted.
It felt so wrong to pout, but he couldn't deny the effect. His already wet, full lips were on prominent display, and the man behind the desk couldn't stop staring at them.
“Isn't there something you can do?” Magnus asked, “A smart guy like you…”
It took all his self-control to maintain eye contact. Sweet talking his way into a ticket came about as naturally as climbing did to a fish, but he was desperate. This body couldn’t fight or intimidate yet, but it could at least get him passage to a place where he could learn. He watched as the man licked his lips quickly and cleared his throat. A few seconds later he reached down and slowly pulled out his own cred stick.
An excitement Magnus couldn’t describe flushed through him, watching the man pay for the ticket. That had been so easy and oddly satisfying despite the humiliation. For the first time since Pace transformed him, he felt powerful.
“Oh, thank you.” He said breathlessly. You truly are a gentleman.”
He lowered one of his antennae to slowly stroke the man’s hand as he handed over the ticket; both of them shuddered. Magnus immediately regretted the action; the feeling of warm skin against his sensitive new limb was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It sent tingles down his spine and started pleasure pooling in his stomach. The man’s face was instantly red, and he shuffled his chair closer to the desk to hide his erection. The fact that he had gotten a man hard with just a few words and a single touch sent a storm of emotions swirling in Magnus’ stomach: embarrassment, confliction, pleasure, confidence.
“Y-you’re welcome..” The man choked out, and Magnus quickly pulled away from the window, adjusting himself once more just to keep his hands busy before heading to the transport.
“Maybe I took that too far.” He muttered, flirting his way into a ticket and so easily, too. He almost wished it hadn't worked so well. Because now there was an insidious little voice in his head wondering what else this body could do for him.
~
The trip to Andoria took only a few days, but it felt like years. Like always, Magnus kept to himself and didn't talk to anybody else in his shared cabin. Partly out of habit, partly because he didn’t trust himself after that display at the ticket booth. Not that his cabin mates made that easy; normally he radiated a pissed-off energy that kept everybody at arm's length. Anybody who was stupid enough to miss the obvious quickly realised he wasn't the chatty sort when he gave them a hard stare. That air was gone now; with this hot new body, it seemed he had the opposite effect. His serious face made people all the more eager to approach him, hoping to ‘cheer him up’. It seemed like every new person who walked into the cabin tried to strike up a conversation.
In the end, he resorted to laying on the highest bunk he could claim, facing the wall. Even then, he felt hyper-aware of his ass pressing against the trenchcoat, practically on display for all to see. He was glad when the lights dimmed and the night cycle began, even if he was wide awake.
Magnus lowered his antenna down in front of his face and examined the thin, feather-light limbs. They were so fragile, half the width of his finger, and so sensitive: a vulnerability. Magnus hated being vulnerable. He grasped one between his thumb and forefinger firmly and winced as pain lanced down them. Pain and…pleasure. He lightened the touch, rolling the bulbous tip of the antenna between his thumb and forefinger just like he would a woman’s nipple.
Magnus bit his lip, and pleasure flowed down from the tip of the antenna to his new pussy. His own nipples hardened in response, and he began to tremble. It felt like a finger circling the head of his cock, or maybe it would be closer to having his clit stroked. Once the idea entered his brain, he couldn't get rid of it, nor could he stop. He kept playing, letting the pleasure build until he could feel the sensitive ball of nerves between his folds throbbing with need. With his free hand he reached down and opened the trenchcoat just enough to slide inside. His finger found his new clit easily, and a pleasured gasp escaped before he could stop it. He had to hope nobody in the room heard because he couldn’t stop now. He rubbed furiously, applied more pressure between his legs and felt the pleasure start to build. His other hand kept playing with his antenna.
“Fuck…I hate these things…” he whimpered to himself, staring at them as he bit down on his lip and came.
He felt wetness soak his fingers, and he cringed; now his trenchcoat was going to be stained. He really hoped it wouldn't show to the other side. He could only imagine how the rest of this trip would go if he had to walk around with those distinctive stains on his clothes.
~
Unfortunately for Magnus, he didn't have to imagine. A few days later, he was very glad to disembark the transport and never make eye contact with any of his cabin mates again. He hurried out of the terminal and into the planet's capital city, eager to find some more cash and get something to wear that actually fit. Outside, a soft orange sky greeted him, Andoria’s moon floating serenely overhead despite the fact it was midday. He glanced around and felt his brow furrow.
“Excuse me.” He called, grabbing another Andite that was passing. “Is this Jestevil? The capital?”
“Yes, of course,” The woman smiled. “Wonderful, isn't it?”
“But…But…where is the smog? The buildings…the crowds?”
The ‘city’, if one could even call it that, was a series of round domed buildings and tall buildings all coated in greenery to the point that they blended in with the mountains. The streets were made from a strange mossy substance, and there was barely any concrete or steel to be seen.
“Ah, a station child, are you? First time on the homeworld?” The woman smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
What Magnus was used to was recycled air, metal walls and the familiar hum of engines and air purifiers. This place was far too open and exposed. He could spot a dozen vantage points an enemy could jump him from in a second alone. He missed the safety of boxy corridors and the strength of his old body.
“You won’t have to be here for long.” He reminded himself, walking down the stairs and along the mossy footpath. “Just stay focused.”
It was a simple list, really: clothes, a place to stay, a gym with somebody who could train him, and, once we were ready, a bounty to afford a one-way ticket back to Thebe. All going to plan, he would be off this green hell hole in a few weeks—a month tops. As he walked through the rolling hills, he realised they were actually shops, small dome-shaped shops with grass and plants growing on top that people walked over as casually as they used the footpath. There didn't seem to be any specific layout, there were no nice neat city blocks like they had back on Earth, and all the signs were in Andrite. How the hell was he supposed to find anything? At least his translator would mean he could talk to people, but he wasn't about to go asking people every time he needed directions.
He looked at the other Andites around him; he’d never seen so many; there were barely any other aliens around at all. Let alone humans. All of them were soft and effeminate; even the males had a certain look about them; there was a chiselled jaw or beard to be seen. The fashion seemed all over the place; some wore loose-fitting outfits that seemed to be nothing more than a selection of loosely wrapped fabric ready to fall off at the slightest breeze. Others wore skin-tight pieces that bordered on obscene; they left almost nothing to the imagination. Andites were an affectionate and open species, but it seemed the rumours that they practised nudity were exaggerated, if only just.
Magnus wandered around the shops, trying in vain to decipher the language before giving up and picking one at random that had clothes in the window. He’d never been much of a shopper; he had no idea how to choose an outfit for this new body or even what was appropriate for his new race. A little bell rang as he stepped inside, and the Andite man sitting behind the counter looked up with a smile.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
Magnus looked around at the racks full of different options and was instantly overwhelmed.
“Yes, I hope so.” He sighed. “I need something cheap that I can use to… exercise in. Nothing too flowy or feminine.”
The man gave him a quizzical look.
“Of course, but…you know this is a boutique; activewear isn’t really our thing.”
“Oh…sorry. The truth is, I can’t read Antide; I just picked it based on the window display.”
It burned him up inside to admit he couldn’t do something, and he could feel his cheeks turning a deeper shade of green, but to his relief, the man didn’t laugh.
“Oh, were you raised off-world?”
“Yeah, something like that. Look, I just need the clothes.”
“Of course, of course.” The man said, holding out his hand. “I’m Zender. I make everything here, so I am sure I can find you something.”
The man stood up and started leading Magnus through the racks, humming as he walked. Magnus pressed his lips into a thin line; for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, he hated this man. He was barely a man, really; soft skin, the same delicate antennae and a thin build; all he needed was a set of tits, and he could pass for female. And yet, he was taller than Magnus now, probably stronger, too. It burned the bounty hunter up inside, knowing he was relying on this soft, pathetic excuse for a man for help.
“Here, how about this?” Zender asked, pulling out what looked like a skintight bodysuit, black, with a little purple highlight around the collar, wrists and ankles. “It has inbuilt support for your bust, so you don't need underwear with it, since I assume you’re not a fan.”
“Wha-how did you know I wasn't wearing any!?”
“I looked you over to guess your size; there are no panty lines or bra straps,” Zender said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “It’s fine, that’s pretty normal here. Why don't you try this on?”
Magnus snatched the outfit out of Zender’s hand and stalked toward the changing rooms, not because he liked the outfit but because he wanted to get away from the other man. How dare he look over his body like a piece of meat! He rushed over to the dressing room and pulled the curtain closed behind him only to come face to face with his own reflection. He hadn't really looked at his naked body much since the change, on the transport he’d jumped in and out of the sonic showers so quickly that his tits had hurt from jumping around so fast. Now, with mirrors on three sides, he couldn’t not see himself. He looked down at the soft, tightfitting bodysuit with disdain.
“At least it looks flexible.”
He shrugged off the trenchcoat and shook out his dark teal hair. It was still somehow soft and silky despite being trapped against his back for days on end. It felt around his shoulders like a waterfall and framed his delicate face. Magnus could see why the man back at the transport desk had been so taken with him; he truly was gorgeous. His green skin was silky smooth all over; even he couldn't help but stare at the full-figured body with some amount of desire. His antenna floated in front of his eyes, instantly reminding him of the pleasure they could create.
“Get a hold of yourself, man.” He hissed.
With a shake of his head, he turned his focus back to the outfit. It was a one-piece suit that reminded him of diving gear or a spacesuit, but it was made from ultra-soft, thin fabric. He stepped into it and felt the silky sensations spread up his thighs and cup his new pussy. Instantly, he felt better. His pussy had been exposed to the open air, but now it was lovingly cupped by the fabric. He pulled the suit up and slipped his arms inside before zipping it up to the high neckline. Zender was right; his breasts seemed to contour to the fabric and were perfectly supported. He twisted and turned; the outfit was practically a second skin. He felt flexible; he had even more freedom to move than he would in his normal clothes. With his breasts and butt better supported, he also didn’t feel quite so off balance.
Looking at his reflection, though, made his smile falter. Second skin was the right word; if it weren't for the change in colour, he would look totally naked! His nipples weren't even hard, yet they were perfectly visible through the front. Turning revealed the same for the cleft of his ass.
“Oh God…I looked like some sort of stripper.”
But this outfit would technically hide his shame and allow him the best freedom of movement while learning how to fight in this new body. Dignity be damned, he had to be practical. He pulled the curtain back and jumped in surprise to see Zender standing there expectantly.
“Ah! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Sorry, naturally quiet walker.” Zender chuckled. “But wow! You look great!”
“...Thanks, but it’s not about looking good. How much?”
“Seventy-five credits.”
“S-seventy-five?!”
“It’s a custom job.”
Magnus bit the inside of his cheek; he really didn't want this to take longer than it already had. The idea of spending an entire afternoon shopping made his stomach churn. On the other, that was practically all his money.
“Fine…”
Zender frowned as Magnus held out the credit stick.
“How about sixty, since it's your first day here?”
There was a beep as he charged the lower price, and Magnus scoffed.
“Bleeding hearts like you must be easy to scam.”
“I’m a pretty good people reader,” Zender replied. “I don’t think you’re scamming me.”
Magnus just rolled his eyes; if this guy really was good at reading people, maybe he’d pick up on the fact that Magnus didn’t want to talk. He turned to leave, but Zender caught him by the wrist.
“Hey, do you have a place to stay yet?”
“No. Why?” He asked suspiciously, pulling his arm free.
“Just that, it’s going to be hard, finding a place when you don’t know how to read the native language,” Zender replied. “I have a break coming up, so why don't we get some lunch? I can help you find something.”
Magnus snorted.
“And when I mysteriously can't get anything, you’ll offer your own house in exchange for a fee, I suppose. Or do you want me to pay with my body?”
Zender looked stricken at the thought.
“Oh God, is that what you think? I am so sorry, no I just want to help. If you can’t find a place I’ll pay for you to get a hotel room for the night.”
“A hotel room you have the key to, I suppose…”
Magnus waited for Zender to defend himself, to argue, maybe even get rough, but instead, the man just looked at him with pity. That look made Magnus hate him all the more; if there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was pity. He crossed his arms over his chest, wincing slightly when he had to reposition his arms under his breasts, and gave Zender a hard stare.
“No, I just want to help. I promise. I am so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For whatever it is you’ve been through that makes you think the worst in people.”
Magnus blinked in shock, searching Zender’s expression and found it… genuine? What the hell?
“Look, take my card,” Zender said after a moment, handing over a little business card. “If you get stuck, I’ll help you out. Or throw it in the bin. Your choice.”
Magnus forced himself to roll his eyes and walk out. He fully intended to chuck the card straight in the nearest bin, but something stayed his hand as he approached. It was that damn soft, genuine look of affection Zender had given him.
“Maybe I’ll keep it, just in case,” he grumbled, patting his sides only to find no pockets. “Ugh…fine.”
He stuck the card down in his cleavage.
“That’ll do for now.”
~
Now clothed, Magnus faced the reality that the sun was setting; he needed to find a place to stay. Preferably not a hotel, considering he had used what little credits on this outfit. He had no idea where to begin. The concept of asking someone for help had occurred to him, but how could he? Pointing at pictures? Drawing in the air like a fool? He couldn’t even identify the symbols for "home" or "shelter" amidst the swirling calligraphy plastered on the rolling, hill-style buildings.
Eventually, he found his way to what looked like an apartment building and started to inquire. Thanks to his translator, he could at least talk with the owners, but building after building, he encountered the same issue: he was a poor, unknown woman with no ID and nothing for collateral. Nobody in their right mind would give him a room to rent or even for the night. The sun had long set as he approached one final building and knocked on the building manager's door. A greasy looking Andite with a name badge that read Xrin answered and immediately split into a smile that made Magnu’s hair stand on end.
“Unless of course…you want to spend some time with me? I am sure if we get to know one another, I can find a room that fits your price range.”
Magnus flashed back to the transport hub. Using his body to get what he needed had been so easy. What was one little dirty deed? If he could threaten his way into accommodation, he would simply have to use seduction. He looked at the greasy looking Andite and he already had a hand on his belt buckle and a cocky smile on his face. He thought he had Magnus right where he wanted him. What was worse, he was probably right. The sharp cut of cardboard against his breasts made Magnus stop though; the business card. Why do this? Why go down on some disgusting, shady businessman when that soft, weaker man had offered him help? At least if he propositioned him, Magnus could pretend he was sleeping with another woman.
“I don't think this will work out.” He said, taking a moment to savour the way the smile dropped from Xrin’s face before heading back out into the cold.
Magnus reached to pull his trenchcoat tighter around himself only to meet empty air. Oh yeah, he’d left it back at the tailor shop. He bit his lip and slowly made his way back there; Zender was probably already at home, it was late after all. Maybe he could break in and spend the night sleeping on a pile of those ridiculous clothes or something. But to his shock, the lights flicked on when he knocked and after a few minutes, Zender answered the door with a cup of something hot in hand.
“It’s you.” He breathed.
“I… couldn't find a place to stay for the night, so I decided to take you up on your offer.”
“Of course, come in. I live in the apartment above the shop.”
Magnus stepped inside and began mentally preparing for the trail ahead; it was just sex. It was a business transaction; he was used to doing unsavoury things for money or services, and this was just another one of them.
“Come upstairs. Have you had dinner?”
Magnus’s stomach rumbled in answer, and Zender chuckled.
“Come on, I can heat you up something.”
He didn't make a move, didn't even give Magnus’ body an appreciative glance. Still, Magnus knew it was coming. He steeled himself and followed Zender upstairs. The Andite served him a bowl of some warm, blue soup and a cup of tea. He didn’t even sit next to him at the table, but across, holding his own cup of tea and drinking deeply. The silence stretched on and Magnus felt the tension rising.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I will pay you back with no money?” Magnus asked after a minute.
“You won’t.” Zender shrugged. “You can sleep on the couch if you like, it pulls out to a bed. Then tomorrow, I can help you find a place.”
Magnus felt his temper starting to build again; he hated this fake nice guy act. Did Zender think he was an idiot? That he was going to fall for this act and be so grateful he’d give him his body willingly out of love? Well he was dead wrong. He looked down at the food and gave it a sniff; it didn't smell drugged, then again he didn’t know much about Andite food.
“You’re very suspicious, aren’t you?” Zender said after a moment.
“And you’re very nosy.”
Zender threw back his head and laughed.
“Okay, that’s fair. What can I say, it’s not every day you meet a beautiful woman in need of help.”
Ah, so that was it.
“So you’ve got some sort of saviour complex, is it? Want me to fall head over heels in love with you, be all grateful for your help?”
“A thank you wouldn’t go amiss,” Zender replied with a shrug. “But no, look, you look like you need help. I want to, it’s as simple as that. Now, let me go get you a blanket.”
Magnus’ hands balled into fists; he hated this. Hated relying on this soft-hearted fool. Hated that he wasn't rising to his bait. Every kind gesture, the soft pillow he laid on on the couch and the equally warm blanket, only added to his frustrations. He wanted the other shoe to drop, for Zender could make a move, showing some dark ulterior motive for helping him. As he lay down for the night, Magnus kept waiting for him to appear and slide next to him. He didn’t; he snored away in the other room, fast asleep. If he had no ulterior motive, Magnus would have to face the fact that he really was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. The idea that people like that could even exist made him scoff. He desperately wanted to be back on Thebe, where he could trust dishonest people to be dishonest, and he knew his enemies.
Comments
Yoni Time
I love this little universe.
