Chapter 13: Cheek to Cheek

“Being a diplomat is not just about knowing the laws as they are written,” Jules said as he paced before the holographic fireplace, Zuki watching him intently as she took notes. “Nor is it limited to interpreting and understanding how those laws are applied. It’s also about forging connections between people and governments, knowing who talk to and how to do it, navigating the bureaucracy in order to get the information that you need.”

“What kind of information?” she asked. He considered for a moment, imagining a scenario that might illustrate what he was talking about.

“Let’s imagine that there was an incident between UNN and Araxie forces, just for the sake of this example. Perhaps a UNN dropship experienced a mechanical failure, and it crashed, injuring some Araxie and damaging their property. The Patriarch is understandably angry about this and demands an apology, but the Commander of the UNN forces refuses on the grounds that it was accidental. Tensions begin to rise, with neither side willing to budge on the issue. Relations start to break down, and it’s looking like the Patriarch might expel the UNN personnel from the territory in retaliation. As the diplomat, how do you resolve that situation?”

Zuki chewed on her claw for a moment, thinking hard as she stared into space.

“Think of it in social terms,” Jules added, “and imagine that you have all of the authority that you need. That both the Patriarch and the UNN Commander value your input.”

“I would ... try to calm the Patriarch,” she replied, “and perhaps convince the Commander to apologize.”

“Yes, exactly,” Jules said with a clap of his hands. “And how do you reach that stage, where both the Patriarch and the Commander will listen to you?”

“I must earn their respect, become their friends?” she asked.

“Yes, now you’re starting to understand. As a diplomat, it is your responsibility to build relationships with the important players. They need to trust you, they need to see you as someone reliable who can help them resolve their problems. When the Patriarch wants to talk to the Commander, his first instinct should be to go through you, because you’re the one who knows the man and who understands how he thinks.”

“But how do I do that?” she asked, cocking her head.

“You’ve been doing it!” Jules replied, “that’s what so impressed me back in Araxie. I was the visiting dignitary, and when Bozka assigned you to be my liaison, you naturally began to befriend me and assist me. You earned my trust, you showed me that you were capable and reliable, and that you could help me navigate the local culture. You knew everyone in the village, you were able to introduce me to people and act as an intermediary. When I had a question, or I needed to understand something, I didn’t go straight to the Patriarch. I came to you. That is what being a diplomat is all about, you already possess the fundamental skills and personality traits that you need, it’s just about learning how to apply them.”

“That’s why you said that I should be a diplomat?” she asked, “I was already doing it?”

“Precisely. If I can teach you how to navigate the bureaucracy and give you a good enough understanding of human and Coalition culture, then you’ll have all of the tools that you’ll need to succeed. You already have a pretty good understanding of the laws and conventions, so now we’re going to cover the structure of the Coalition, and how the different branches interact with one another.”

Zuki nodded enthusiastically, a look of determination on her face.

“We should take a break here,” Jules said, switching off the display behind him with the remote. As it went dark, its pale light was replaced with the orange glow from the crackling flames in the hearth, casting dancing shadows throughout the room. He had turned off the heating element earlier in the day so that it didn’t barbecue the back of his legs while he was giving his lecture, but the holographic fireplace remained.

“I think I’m starting to understand the way that the Coalition is organized,” Zuki said as she set her tablet down on the glass coffee table. “I thought it would be impossible for me to grasp, I imagined it to be as complex and as alien as your technology is to me, but it’s not so different from an Araxie pack in principle. There are subordinates, and those subordinates answer to the more qualified and higher ranked people, and those people in turn are subservient to those of higher status who have authority over the different departments. It’s like a ... giant, interstellar pack structure.”

“I can see the similarities,” Jules admitted. “Now, are you ready for our activity?”

“Are we doing that right now?” she asked, her round ears twitching.

“Yeah, we only have a couple of days left before we’ll be making our case before the Security Council, there’s time yet to have a little fun.”

“What are we going to do?” Zuki asked, watching him as he made his way into the center of the carpeted living area and began to appraise the furniture.

“First thing’s first, we need to make some room. Do me a favor and help me move this stuff to the walls, will you? The furniture is all too heavy for a human to lift on his own.”

She seemed confused, but she did as he asked, helping him to push the couch and the coffee table out of the way. Before long, they had cleared a large space on the carpet.

“Now what?” she asked. Jules picked up the remote and hit a few buttons, then orchestral music began to play through the speakers, piano accompanied by the twang of string instruments and the boom of brass. The tempo was slow and relaxing, and when accompanied by the dim lights and the roaring holographic fire, it made for quite the cozy atmosphere.

Zuki’s ears pricked up, turning this way and that as she tried to locate the source of the sounds that were coming in through the various speakers spaced out around the apartment.

“This is human music,” Jules explained. “A Waltz in a classical style, specifically. The Araxie must have music, right?”

“Nothing like this,” she marveled, turning on the spot as if the surround sound was confusing her. She was transfixed, like a deer in the headlights, her eyes losing their focus as she concentrated on the swelling music. “There are so many instruments, how many people are playing?”

“It’s an orchestral rendition, so perhaps a hundred people all playing together.”

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” she asked, turning back to face him. The firelight was reflected in her emerald eyes, making them sparkle in the gloom.

“In part. I was thinking about what kind of activities you might enjoy, what might appeal to the Araxie mindset. What do I know about your people? They’re graceful, agile. They live in pack structures, and so they appreciate the concept of leading and following. So I decided to teach you to dance!”

“To dance?” she replied, cocking her head again in confusion. “But the Araxie already know how to dance.”

“I figured that you probably had your own dancing styles, but this one is special,” Jules said as he walked towards the center of the carpet and extended a hand to her. “It requires two partners, one leading and the other following, working together as they go through the steps.”

“Working together?” she asked, “like a pack?”

“That’s right, like a pack. Just take my hand, and I’ll demonstrate.”

Her eyes darted to the floor reluctantly, but then she reached out and placed her oversized hand in his. Jules encouraged her to come closer, tugging at her until she was standing a few inches away from him, his face just about level with her chest. She was dramatically larger than he was, but there was no reason that this shouldn’t work. He extended his right arm, her own limb bent at the elbow due to their difference in length, and he rested his left hand on her wide hip as he was unable to reach the small of her back.

“Put your right hand on my shoulder,” he added, “and stay in this position as we move.”

“L-like this?” she stammered, her palm weighing down on him.

“That’s good, yeah.” He looked up to see her peering down at him, an unspoken question in her eyes. “This is called a ‘box step’,” Jules explained, “the goal is to move around together in a square. Imagine that there’s a box drawn on the carpet whose boundaries we’re trying to stay inside. I’ll lead, you follow, so watch what I do with my feet and try to copy my movements. First, I put my left foot forward. As I do that, you mirror me by putting your right foot back, like you’re moving out of the way.”

Zuki watched his feet intently, moving her paw backwards on the carpet as he moved his boot forwards.

“Good, and now we move the other feet into position so that we’re standing level again. That’s right, good job. Now, I take a step right, and you do the same. Keep your hands in position and try to stay close to me.”

She got the hang of it rather quickly, following his lead as he moved them through the steps, the pair completing their box step and returning to their starting position.

“How is this dancing?” Zuki asked incredulously, “it is rather ... formless.”

“Now that you know the steps, we can move to the rhythm of the music. We’ll go a little faster this time, alright? Follow my lead.”

Jules guided her through another step, this time letting the tempo of the orchestra dictate his pace, Zuki having a little trouble keeping up. She wobbled, her tail held out for balance as he took a step back and brought her with him, one of her massive paws stepping on his toes.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry,” she exclaimed as she pulled her hand away from his shoulder, “did I hurt you? I knew this was a bad idea...”

“Nope,” Jules replied, smiling up at her. “Why do you think I’m wearing these boots? The Marines gave them to me when I visited Araxie, they have steel guards over the toes, you can’t hurt me if you miss a step.” He reached up and took her right hand, returning it to his shoulder as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s keep going.”

They completed another box step, Zuki standing on his toes a couple more times, but she wasn’t in any danger of hurting him with the boots on. She seemed to be warming to the music as time went on. Her ears were angled towards the speakers in the walls, indicating that she was listening intently, her movements syncing up with the rhythm as she got more into it. She never seemed to do anything half-heartedly, she gave every activity and every task her best efforts. Her confidence was growing, her clumsiness giving way to the same grace that Jules had observed in the Araxie warriors, their bodies flowing through their environment like water. Despite her immense size and weight, she was incredibly light on her feet, the pads on her paws making her silent on the carpet.

She had soon memorized the steps, the two of them moving in perfect harmony, the music setting their pace.

“I’m going to switch it up a bit,” Jules said, “we’re going to start turning into each step.”

“I don’t know if-”

“Just follow my lead, you’ve got this.”

Now it was like they were really dancing on a ballroom floor, Zuki paying close attention as they turned with each step, twirling slowly together. She stumbled a little at first, but she quickly got the hang of it, looking down to watch his feet and letting his steps inform her own.

“Do all humans know how to do this?” she asked.

“No,” he chuckled, “it’s just something that I picked up on the job. The high society types like their parties and their functions. It pays to own a tuxedo, and to know a few steps, helps you mingle.”

“Will this help me be a better diplomat?”

“I don’t know about that, but a Borealan in a ballgown would be something to see...”

She seemed to be having a good time. Dancing with someone was fun in its own right, but there was also that added Borealan element. She enjoyed taking instruction, being part of a group, and he heard her begin to laugh as they spun together.

“I feel so silly,” she giggled, “why must we hold hands like this?”

“That’s just how it’s done,” Jules replied with a shrug. The tempo of the music began to rise, and Jules was starting to work up a sweat, especially where Zuki was touching him. The hand that she was holding was wet, slippery against her fur, and his shoulder was warming beneath her massive palm.

“Hang on, I need to take off my jacket,” he said breathlessly. She released her hold on him, watching as he unbuttoned his jacket and stripped down to his dress shirt, loosening the collar.

“Human dancing is fun,” Zuki said as she planted her hands on her wide hips, “but I think Araxie dancing is better.”

“This is just one kind of human dance,” he replied, draping his jacket over his shoulder. “How do the Araxie dance?”

“Well ... the whole pack dances together, moving as one. Not unlike your dancing in that respect, I suppose, but the movements are different.”

“Show me,” he said, Zuki’s ears twitching in surprise.

“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself with a clawed finger.

“Do you see anybody else here?” he laughed. Jules made his way over to the couch that had been pushed up against the wall, taking a seat pointedly as he waited for her to begin.

“I haven’t danced very much,” she mumbled, fidgeting nervously. “It’s a pack activity.”

“Can you not do it alone?” he asked.

“Well ... yes ... but...”

He gestured with his hand as if to say ‘go on then’. Zuki hesitated for a moment, she looked a little embarrassed to be put on the spot. She finally found her confidence, beginning to pull her sweater over her head. She struggled with it for a moment, getting her arm caught in one of the sleeves, and then she tossed it to the carpet.

“I can’t do it with the sweater on,” she explained, rolling her shoulders like she was preparing for a workout. “You won’t be able to see me.”

“See you?” he mused. He could already see her, or maybe she meant something else? Beneath her turtleneck, she was wearing only her white bandages, but she didn’t seem as self-conscious as she had once been. There was a time when she hadn’t wanted him to even catch a glimpse of her bandaged torso, but through either building her confidence or earning her trust, she now felt comfortable enough around him that it wasn’t an issue.

Still, she looked a little sheepish as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She kept the sweatpants on, that wasn’t an issue apparently, the waistband riding tantalizingly low on her hips.

“I need different music,” she said. “Something with drums, maybe? A beat to dance to?”

“You want a drum beat?” Jules clarified, fishing in his pocket for the remote. He switched the monitor above the fireplace back on briefly, stopping the Waltz and cycling through the list of tracks as Zuki blinked her sensitive eyes at the harsh light. “Let’s see what we have here ... I don’t think you’ll like anything electronic ... maybe something from the cultural archives? Let’s see ... maybe this?”

He pressed a button on the remote and began to play a new track, the swell of tribal percussion filling the room, accompanied by the distinctive plink of a xylophone and the metallic beat of steelpan drums. It was very different from the gentle harmonies of the piano and strings that had characterized the Waltz, more visceral, primal. The music conjured images in his mind of people dancing around a bonfire on a tropical beach, the sun setting behind them, painting the sky in reds and oranges. Jules tapped his foot to the beat as Zuki listened intently, unable to help himself.

“Now this, I like,” she announced, nodding her head in approval. It must be much closer to the kind of music that her people played back home. Jules was amused to see that just as he was tapping his toes to the rhythm, her long tail was waving in time with the music.

He switched off the monitor, casting the room into the glow of the firelight again, and she slowly began to move. She started off with a subtle swaying of her hips, her head hanging low as she closed her eyes, as though she was getting a feel for the music before beginning. She worked through her initial nervousness, the movements gradually becoming more pronounced. Just like he had observed in the shower, she was inhumanly flexible and lithe, her upper body moving independently of her hips. On her home planet, she might have been considered clumsy, but she still had more grace and poise than any human that Jules had ever met.

Her movements grew more deliberate as she began to dance in earnest, thrusting her hips from side to side like a belly dancer, rolling them in a figure of eight as she kept her upper body almost immobile. Her swaying was hypnotic, the muscles of her exposed midriff moving beneath her silky coat in ways that made her shining fur catch the firelight, the finer details of her body even more striking in its wavering glow. The taut abs that bulged from beneath her skin reflected the orange light, the deep channels that they carved in her flat stomach cast into dark shadow, along with her navel and the hip bones that vanished into her sagging sweatpants.

She began to turn slowly, focusing intently on controlling the mesmerizing movements of her legs and hips, that same flickering firelight bringing out the details of the dimples in her lower back and the channel that her muscles traced down her spine. Her pants were baggy, obscuring, but he could still make out the subtle wobble of her butt and her thighs beneath the camouflaged fabric.

Her fluid motions were punctuated by sudden staccato thrusts, the softer elements of her figure shaking with each impact. Droplets of her sweat escaped from her glistening body as the music rose in tempo, catching the light and sparkling in a way that was oddly beautiful. She was in such perfect sync with the guttural beat of the music, he could feel it reverberating in his bones, ensnaring his heart as if trying to force it to pump at the same pace as the pounding of the drums.

She began to move her upper body now, too, her shoulders lifting and twisting independently of her hips. There was such depth to the way her chest shimmied and shivered to the tune of the xylophone, her hips beginning to bounce and quake, the stamping of her feet making the meat of her bountiful thighs shake.

Unlike with a traditional belly dance, she kept her arms immobile at her sides, drawing all of the attention to the way that her toned core was moving, her hips rocking from side to side. The flowing, sinuous way in which she undulated her abdomen to make it move in slow waves captured his attention in more ways than one, Jules crossing his legs in an attempt to conceal his growing enthusiasm.

She was moving towards a crescendo along with the beat, and Jules realized with a start that he had been staring at her, transfixed for almost the entire duration of the four-minute track. As it neared its conclusion, her dancing rose to a fever pitch along with it, the hammering of the drums practically shaking the ground. Music was a universal language, Zuki could sense the coming climax just as he could. As she pivoted on the spot, Jules leaning forward in his seat to get a better view of her glistening form ... she tripped over her own feet and stumbled across the carpet.

She managed to right herself before she fell over, pouting and grumbling to herself in her native tongue as the music ceased with a clatter of cymbals.

“I almost had it that time,” she complained, “I never manage to get the ending right. It’s the last part that always...”

She trailed off as she turned to see him gazing across the living room at her, her glittering eyes meeting his own. She saw the admiration in his expression, the way that his cheeks had flushed red, and she batted her long lashes as a sudden shyness overcame her.

“That was ... amazing,” he said, his voice almost low enough to be a whisper. “How did you learn to dance like that?”

“Y-you liked it?” she stammered. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her tail began to wag slowly. “I’m not even very good, you should see the other Araxie dance. They make me look so ... so clumsy and slow.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” he insisted. “Zuki, that was spectacular!”

She beamed at him, clearly flattered, but also not accustomed to such high praise. She looked as if she didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her tail wagging back and forth a little faster, her eyes lingering on him for a moment, and then she stooped to retrieve her sweater.

“I like to dance,” she said as she pulled it over her head, her round ears springing out of the collar. “I don’t get to do it very often, I’m not in very high demand...”

“I can’t imagine why,” he laughed, “I’ve never seen anyone move like that before. You’re so flexible.”

“Do humans ... dance for each other?” she asked, her tail whipping from side to side behind her as she made her way towards the couch. Jules leaned back in the cushions, watching as the burning embers of the fireplace illuminated her shiny, wet fur. Her eyes were fixed on him, and he was momentarily reminded of how the Araxie hunters had watched him from the trees, two reflective points staring out at him from the darkness.

“Sometimes,” he mumbled, not really sure what she was asking.

“I just want to make sure that we see ... eye to eye,” she said as she crouched before him to put herself at eye level, planting her large hands to either side of him. His heart began to beat faster again, but this time, there were no drums to accompany it. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, he was inexorably drawn to her green irises, captivated by the way that they seemed to glow in the dimly lit room.

“H-how do you mean?” he asked, his voice faltering.

“You said that we were a pack,” she continued as she leaned closer to him. “We slept together, ate together, bathed together. You danced with me, had me dance ‘for’ you ... you admired me. You admire me all the time, even if you think I don’t notice. In my culture, those things ... they mean something ... but I don’t want to overstep. If humans are different, if those things are meaningless to you, then tell me now so that this unbearable waiting can come to an end.”

She cast him in her shadow as she leaned ever closer, the tension that she was feeling radiating from her as she awaited his response, her ears pricked up attentively. Jules couldn’t think straight. Heat was spreading through him like a fever, his cheeks were burning, and his brain was boiling in his skull. If he tried to hide his attraction to her now, it would be fruitless, trying to deny it while she was staring into his soul was even more futile. He had tried to bury these feelings for the sake of professionalism, he had tried to remain detached so that his burgeoning feelings for Zuki didn’t interfere with his work. God, that dancing. She was so sensuous, lithe, and now her blackberry scent was invading his nose and weakening his resolve even further.

“I wondered if aliens could even ... if humans and Araxie could love one another,” she added. This time she turned her emerald eyes away from him, her lashes fluttering with embarrassment. “But the Elysian that you brought with you, her scent was all over that other human. I could smell her sweat on him.”

Jules’ mind flashed back to the view from the helmet cam, Yuta’s exposed body glistening with her sudor, writhing atop her human partner. Zuki had come so far, she had gained enough confidence to confront him about this, how could he shoot her down now? How could he break her heart, how could he lie to her face?

“Even your confessions are clumsy,” he chuckled. He reached out towards her silken cheek, delving his fingers into her moist, velvety coat and leaning forwards to join his lips to hers. Did Araxie kiss? It didn’t matter, he wanted so badly to kiss her, so that was what he was going to do. Etiquette and consequences no longer factored into it.

Her green eyes widened as her dark lips pressed against his, slowly closing as he embraced her. She opened her lips in invitation to him, and there was a spark of flavor and sensation as the tip of her tapered tongue brushed against his. Their initially gentle pace suddenly became more hungry, desperate. Jules felt Zuki’s fuzzy palm cup his cheek in turn as she leaned into him, her winding tongue beginning to probe his mouth. Her metallic, sweet taste filled his head as her flexible organ brushed his inner cheeks, tickling his palate as she explored him clumsily. The upper side of her tongue was covered in the little barbs that she used to clean her fur, but the underside was as soft and as slippery as his own. It was wet with her saliva, almost frictionless, Zuki murmuring wantonly as she locked him in a slow and sensual dance. He tried to meet her embrace, but his tongue paled in comparison to hers, he could do little more than bat at it as its thick coils piled into his mouth.

It was so long, it just kept coming, wonderful shivers crawling down his spine with her every gentle stroke and glance. He felt as though he was melting into her, the heat that she radiated drawing him in like a moth to a flame. His thoughts had turned to meaningless static, all that he could do was feel, the sensation of her naked flesh gliding against his own sending pulses of white light flashing through his brain like a strobe.

Zuki pressed him into the backrest, the couch emitting a worrying creak as she slid a knee up onto the cushions, and then a second. She knelt over him, Jules having to turn his head up to maintain their deep, passionate kiss. Something about that made him weak at the knees, having to look up at her in the way that he did, his spine arching as she closed a second hand around his face and buried him in her fragrant fur.

It felt like she was drawing shapes inside his mouth, caressing him from the inside with all the finesse and care of a painter’s brush on a canvass, his nerves sparking as her roving tongue bulged his cheeks. It seemed to have a life of its own, squirming and sinuous, the flexible muscle glancing the back of his throat. Her embrace was so much more intimate than anything that he was used to, needy, as if she wanted to make every second count. He could feel her hunger, the desires that she must have repressed for such a long time bubbling to the surface all at once, manifested the way that she moaned and purred softly as their tongues entwined.

She released him with a wet smack, giving him a chance to breathe, her length of winding muscle sliding past his lips as it returned to her mouth. They were both panting, her warm breath washing over him, his erection pressing into the groin of her sweatpants. He ran his fingers through the fur on her cheek, and she pushed her face into his hand, sighing as he stroked her in the way that he knew she liked.

She moved in to kiss him again, but he stopped her, the Araxie blinking her eyes at him in confusion.

“Wait,” he mumbled, summoning what little self-control remained to him. “This feels ... I’m supposed to be your teacher, I’m responsible for you. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re my pack leader,” she replied breathlessly, “you’re supposed to be responsible for me. You’re supposed to instruct me, care for me, love me if it pleases you. Does it please you?”

“I ... of course it pleases me,” he mumbled, Zuki leaning in to deliver another quick kiss as she cradled his face in her oversized hands. Her fur was warm and fine, as though she was wearing a pair of giant, satin gloves. His eyelids fluttered as her tongue slipped into his mouth once more, teasing him with gentle flurries, her smooth lips so soft and full. She broke off again, gazing down at him, switching her focus between his eyes as she tried to gauge his response.

“I want this,” she whispered, practically pleading.

This time, it was Jules who leaned forward to kiss her, delving his fingers into her velvet cheeks again as she loosed a rumbling, contented purr. He abandoned all moderation, taking his fill of her, their embrace growing more sordid as he set the pace. She shivered happily as he slipped a hand beneath the fabric of her sweater, feeling the muscles of her flat belly tense beneath his palm, Zuki twisting her hips and grinding against his erection as he slid down towards her waistband.

“How do ... humans ... make love?” Zuki asked between their hurried embraces, Jules affording her little chance to get a word out.

“How do the Araxie make love? We’ve been making it up as we go along, why stop here?”

He guided her onto her side, the two of them harrying one another with kisses as he sat her down on the couch in his place, kneeling between her parted thighs. When he pulled away, she blinked her eyes at him in a daze, wetting her black lips in anticipation as he began to raise the hem of her sweater.

Jules exposed her dark, damp fur, her muscular core flexing at his touch as he slid a hand from her ribs to her belly. She shifted and arched her back, pushing into him, a staggered gasp escaping her throat as he examined her unreservedly for the first time. The twin rows of her abdominal muscles, the indent of her navel, and the subtle contours of her lithe figure were all on display in the dancing firelight. Zuki scarcely looked real, like she had sprung from the imagination of a sculptor or an artist rather than from nature, the harsh environment of her home planet giving her the appearance of an Olympic gymnast or a competitive swimmer.