It was after midnight when they left the party. Thousands of stars lit the sky. The moon had just risen, a silver-white object brighter than the other stars, but too small for the image of a disk. The beach sparkled ahead of them and a line of sea foam glowed with a blue sheen that could best be seen from the corner of the eye. The surf was low tonight, the waves barely whispering as they approached the sand.
Emma slipped her hand into Alan's as they strolled along the well-packed sand. "I think," she said quietly. "This is the prettiest spot on all of Loki."
Alan smiled. "Even prettier than your mom's valley?"
"Oh, yes. Rainbow Valley is unique, but here--" she dropped his hand and took a step ahead of him, her arms spread wide. "Here, there's so much space, you just feel like you could spread your arms and soar up into the air."
Alan smiled, understanding the sentiment completely. "You're right." He stood beside her, looking out at the sparkling ocean and the stars above. "It's something about the horizon, and being able to see so many stars."
They stood together watching the surf. Alan squeezed her hand. "It's always been my favorite spot too," he confessed. They continued walking down the beach together. They were almost at the turnoff to their cabins when Emma turned to him.
"Are you tired? Could we walk some more? There's something I want to talk to you about."
"We can walk. What is it, Em?"
Emma hesitated. She had to tell him exactly how she felt. She knew she would have only this one chance, and if he didn't believe her, or agree with her, or if he laughed at her, it would be disastrous. She took a calming breath as they continued to walk, Alan waiting patiently for her to talk.
"Alan, I've fallen in love with someone," she said simply.
Alan's heart skipped a beat. Oh, he had known it would happen someday. She would grow up and find someone to marry; perhaps even someone who resented what a large role he had always played in her life-- more than boss, closer than friends. They had been partners on this last project instead of teacher and pupil. Going to work each day had been a joy these last few months, each day filled with new ideas and incredible creativity.
On the other hand, he didn't want her to spend her life as he had, with work the most important thing in her life, never having a family or someone special to love.
"That's... terrific, Emma," he managed to say at last. "Are you sure it's love?" He had to add that. Alpha's children all seemed determined to pair off as young as possible. He wondered how often it was really love and how often it was their reaction to the urgency the older generation felt to train the children and heap responsibility on them.
"Well, I think about him all the time, and I'm happiest when we're together-- no matter what we're doing. When we touch-- even accidentally, it can be very distracting." She smiled softly. "I want to touch him as often as possible. I want to be near him all the time. I want to have his babies."
Alan's heart fell. He might not be an expert in such matters, but it certainly sounded like love.
Emma sighed. "I hope he feels the same way."
"What? You don't know?"
"I haven't -- exactly-- told him yet," she said hesitantly. "I guess I'm scared he won't feel the same way."
Alan stopped and turned to face her. "Emma, if there's a chance that he loves you too, you have to let him know." He smoothed back a curl that had blown in front of her face. "Don't be so afraid that you lose a chance to be happy."
She smiled at him. They were standing so close together she could feel his breath on her face. She looked deep into his eyes-- eyes filled with starlight. She reached her hand up to caress his cheek. "Alan Carter, I'm in love with you." She leaned closer, it was only a little ways, and softly, very softly, brushed her lips against his.
Her words stunned him. He was completely caught off-guard. Her actions left his knees feeling weak and his head spinning. His hands caught her around the waist as he steadied himself. He realized almost immediately that was probably a mistake as he felt the warm satin feeling of her bare skin under his hands. Above his hands, her breasts brushed softly against his chest and her breath was warm against his lips. With the thin beachwear they had on there was no way he could hide the effect her words and actions had on him.
"Emma, you can't be!" he said softly, with less conviction than surprise.
"Why not, Alan?" she asked, her lips brushing against his as they pronounced the words.
The touch was a sensation so pleasurable it was almost painful. He barely had the strength to protest, and certainly hadn't found the will power to push her away.
"Em, do you know how old I am?" he managed to say.
"Yes," she said simply and calmly. Her lips traced a trail across his cheek to his ear. "Close your eyes," she said softly in his ear.
"What?" She smelled so good. Slightly of salt from their earlier swim; a bit of Alpha, which had an odor all its own which had come to mean home to him; and all of Emma. He had been so close to Emma for so long, babysitter, friend, teacher, partner, he could recognize her simply with his sense of smell, although he could never have put into words just what she smelled like. He was sorely tempted to reach out and taste the earlobe which was currently tantalizingly near his lips.
"Close your eyes," she ordered impatiently.
He complied.
She shifted slightly against him and her lips again found his. This, however, was no light, tenative kiss, but the kiss of a woman thoroughly and completely attracted to him. She tasted as wonderful as she smelled and neither of them hurried to end the kiss. Finally, she traced the path from lips to ear again, her hands gently resting against his shoulders.
"Alan, can you tell how old I am from that kiss?" she asked softly.
He replied with a chuckle and the first thought that popped into his mind. "Old enough."
One of her hands moved down to caress his chest. He could feel her lips smile against his neck. "Old enough to know what I want?"
"Definitely."
Emma ran her hand against his bare chest. Had she unbuttoned his shirt? He didn't remember. She was speaking again.
"Can you honestly say you haven't felt it too, Alan? When I hand you a tool, or we share a slate pencil?" Her lips had returned to his, touching softly, lightly, as she spoke. "When we went to that wedding last month and we danced together?"
She had been wearing an incredible blue dress, so short it drew a lot of attention to her long beautiful legs. It had virtually no back, and was low cut enough in front to show her navel. He had gone home to a long cold shower, berating himself for such feelings about his beloved niece-- his working partner.
Lately it had almost seemed like she was teasing him or testing him, holding the tool longer than was necessary; sitting close to him at the drafting table. A few times he had almost reached out and caressed her, but stopped himself. He had taken quite a few cold showers, but he couldn't stop himself from sharing a delighted smile with her when the equipment they were working on performed well, or savoring a late-night cup of coffee with her after working through the evening, or enjoying her company throughout the day.
She moved his right hand higher on her body and he brushed the side of her breast. He wasn't sure how much more he could resist, or how much he wanted to.
"Of course I've felt it, Emma, but--"
"Oh, Alan," she said desperately, her composure finally slipping. "Love me back, please love me back."
His resistance crumpled with her composure. He still wasn't convinced that he was doing the right thing, but their attraction to each other could no longer be denied. His lips pressed against hers and she welcomed him. She tasted so completely wonderful he lost himself in the moment. He quickly untied the halter she was wearing, eagerly exploring her bare skin. Her sarong dropped to the ground and his shorts and shirt quickly followed. They looked at each other for a long moment, clothed only in starlight, feasting on each other as if starved for the sight.
She pulled him down onto the sand, wanting him, eager for him. He took things slowly, knowing that she had some experience, but proceeding with caution. He explored her body gently and let her take the time to touch and explore him. He was almost afraid she might be wrong, that the magic between them might not last and tonight might be the only time he would ever have to touch her this way.
As he finally pressed against her and into her he looked into her eyes, now filled with the starlight from above. He suddenly realized why this act was called 'making love'. Always before he had thought it was an illusion or a euphemism. She smiled up at him with delight and he returned the smile, every bit as delighted. "Emma," he said, surprise registering in his voice. "I love you."
"Of course, darling," she returned. "And I love you." She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips.
As their bodies moved together he knew, knew with absolute certainty, that he was making love with the woman he had been waiting for all his life. Nothing had ever felt so right in his entire life. Satisfying her gave him more pleasure than he had ever thought possible and much later, when she lay in his arms looking up at the stars with him, he felt happier than he had ever dreamed he could be.
She pointed up at the moon, which was not yet at its zenith. "Our home," she said simply. "Once we're married, we'll design marvelous machines in the daytime and make love at night. We'll have beautiful children, and teach them to fly the ships we design."
Emma liked an orderly life. She already ran their department with more order and efficiency than Alan ever had.
"Are you sure you want to get married?" He played lazily with the black curls that lay against his chest.
"Of course," she said. "Otherwise we'll be sneaking around trying to find time to touch each other. We'll never get anything done at work, and have to put blinds on the office windows so no one will see what we're doing."
He laughed with her, imagining the things they could do in the office with blinds on the windows."
"Besides, you want to have a baby, don't you?"
He twirled her curls around his finger thoughtfully. A baby-- their baby-- would be a wonderful thing. Then something occurred to him-- belatedly. "Emma, we didn't, we haven't made a baby now have we?"
"Of course not," she said with a laugh, turning to face him. "I take my shot faithfully every month and will until a month after we post the bans. I'm not having a bunch of old biddies following me around counting on their fingers and toes to see how early the baby pops out. No one gets the opportunity to gossip about how maybe they had to get married or maybe he just took pity on the poor girl and isn't really the father," she spoke vehemently about the subject. When the first of Alpha's children had begun a second generation there had been a good deal of scandal and gossip and it had deeply hurt the younger generation. Their reaction had been typically unified and extreme as they adopted an exceedingly conservative view of sex, marriage and having children. Many openly admitted they would not have sex before they married. Others, like Emma, had quietly continued their activities covertly with a great deal of caution.
"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" he asked gently.
"I told you I had been distracted a lot lately," she said with a smile. "I've dreamed about this for a long time." She touched his cheek, almost in awe that her dreams were finally coming true.
He kissed her fingers. "We'll make beautiful babies-- when the time comes."
"Yes, we will," she leaned forward, mesmerized and he kissed her hungrily. His hands moved down her body, caressing her, coaxing her. She moaned her desire, but then pulled back. "Alan," she asked, puzzled. "I thought that after-- that we couldn't-"
He smiled. He knew from earlier conversations with her that the boys she had been with before had been intensely interested in their own fulfillment with little clue of what a woman needed or was capable of; and given Alpha's current attitudes, they would remain clueless.
"My love," he said, his voice made husky by the realization that he meant that phrase for the first time in his life. "Let me show you what can be done-- after."
Ellen Lindow
April, 1999