Chapter Text
“What do you want, Harvey?”
John could easily have mistaken the man at his door for his twin brother, Scorpius, except that Scorpius would never let himself look so dishevelled and had better ways of harassing John than showing up at his house.
Harvey pouted. “Can’t I just be coming by to visit a friend?”
John just stared at him.
“I brought flowers,” Harvey offered, producing a bouquet still wrapped in the brown florist’s paper from Safeway.
John stepped out into the front step, half-closing the door behind him. “Boundaries, Harv. Ever hear of them?”
“I thought you said Aeryn knew about us,” Harvey retorted.
“Yes, but that was one time,” John said, sticking an index finger in Harvey’s face, “and it’s not happening again. And it’s definitely not happening in our house!”
Harvey rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to be so dramatic, John. It’s only flowers.”
John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. Well. I’m not really a flowers kinda guy.”
“Everyone is a flowers guy if you aren’t afraid to have a little joy in your life.”
John sighed, walking back into the house and leaving the door open for Harvey to follow. “Aeryn, honey, you’ll never guess what the cat dragged in…” he called out.
He didn’t even need to see his wife’s face to know the look of bland irritation that was on it when she called back, “I’ll get the sofa bed set up.”
“Thank you, John. It means so much to me to know that I can always rely on you.” Harvey cleared his throat when John turned and glared at him. “Shall I put these in some water—”
John snatched the bouquet from his hands. “I’ll do it.”
He went to the kitchen where Aeryn was making breakfast for their son, D’Argo, leaving Harvey in the living room.
“I’m so sorry about this,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know why he keeps showing up on our doorstep.”
“He keeps showing up because you keep letting him,” she said without looking up from stirring milk into D’Argo’s oatmeal to cool it. “I’m not upset. I understand that it doesn’t matter if you’re thinking with your guilt, your compassion, or your mivonks, you are simply incapable of saying no to him.”
“I told him it won’t happen again, and I mean it,” he said.
“I know.” Aeryn turned and presented a baby spoon of cereal to John. “Temperature check.”
John automatically sampled it, finding it just above lukewarm. “It’s good. He brought flowers this time.”
Aeryn wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really like flowers,” she said, putting the oatmeal in front of D’Argo on the tray of his highchair. To their son, she said, “Now, are we going to try using the spoon this time?”
D’Argo immediately stuck his hand in the bowl and giggled, before studiously going to put his fingers in his mouth. Most of the cereal ended up on his face anyway.
“You are as undisciplined as your father,” Aeryn told him mildly.
“He’s barely a year old, Aeryn. Give him time.” John started hunting for a vase, realized he didn’t care that much, and pulled out a chunky-faceted plastic water pitcher.
“Harvey thinks everyone likes flowers,” he said, unwrapping the most generic—and probably cheapest—bouquet available at the grocery store. “He’s trying to be a good guest.”
“I know.” Aeryn kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget to trim the stems at an angle so they last longer. And remember, it’s your turn to take D’Argo to daycare.”
John snagged Aeryn by the hand and pulled her close for a kiss on the lips. “I got it. Both the flowers and the daycare.” He kissed her again. “But you’d better get a move on, or you’ll be late for work.”
Aeryn smiled. “And whose fault would that be?” she said, smacking his ass on the way out of the kitchen.
John grinned. “God, I love that woman,” he said to himself, going back to trimming and arranging the flowers while keeping one eye on his son.
D’Argo was busily painting his highchair tray and face with oatmeal, but at least a quarter of it had already made it into his mouth. John considered that a win. From the living room, he could hear Aeryn telling Harvey that she’d get his bed set up when she got home, that his Netflix profile was still on their account, and that she didn’t want him eating all the chips in the house while they were gone. Harvey promised he wouldn’t, and John made a mental note to pick up chips on his way home later.
***
“Hurry up, Chiana! You’re going to make us late!” Jool called out from the door, boots already on and backpack in hand.
“Relax!” Chiana said, taking her time putting herself together at the bottom of the stairs into their shared basement suite. “Pilot always waits for us. And it’s not like it’d be that big of a deal if we were late to class.”
“Aren’t you on academic probation?” Sikozu said, squeezing past her girlfriend to join her other girlfriend at the door.
Chiana scoffed. “Yeah. So what?”
“I’m not surprised you don’t care,” said Jool. “It’s not like art college is a serious education anyway.”
Chiana scurried up the stairs. “Alberta. University. Of the Arts. I’m just as much of a university student as you and Sikozu.” She gave her girlfriend a peck on the lips. “C’mon. Don’t want to make Pilot and Moya wait any longer than they need to.”
Jool screamed in frustration, then turned to catch up with her rapidly departing girlfriend. Sikozu just rolled her eyes as she locked the door.
Before long, the three women were hurrying towards the bus terminal. It was easy to recognize Moya waiting at the number 20 stop, her bronze colour and organic shape making her unique in the Calgary Transit bus fleet.
“Hi, Pilot!” they each said in a ragged chorus as they boarded the bio-mechanoid bus.
“Chiana, Joolushko, Sikozu,” Pilot greeted each of them in turn. “Moya and I were beginning to wonder if we would be forced to leave without you.”
“We’d never do that to you, Pilot,” Chiana said, going up on tiptoes to kiss the broad, flat ridge of his head.
“You’re the one who made us late!” Jool said, even as she gave Moya’s inner chassis an affectionate pat.
“We would’ve been perfectly on time if the frelling light would change faster,” Chiana retorted.
Sikozu planted a hand each on Chiana and Jool’s backpacks, propelling them forward into the vehicle. “Regardless of who or what is to blame, now that we are aboard, I’m sure both Moya and Pilot would appreciate it if we took our seats so they can continue on their appointed route?”
“Indeed, Sikozu. Thank you,” said Pilot as Moya closed her doors.
Jool only huffed a little as she made her way down to find a seat, swaying with the motion of Moya pulling out into the street. Chiana plopped down beside her while Sikozu took a seat right behind them.
Jool turned and hooked an elbow over the back of the seat to look at her girlfriend. “You’ll be finding out your internship placement today, isn’t that right?”
“It is,” said Sikozu, playing delicate fingers through Jool’s copper curls.
“I hope you don’t end up at one of those faceless finance firms,” said Chiana. “Or worse, oil and gas.”
“Why would that be such a bad thing?” Sikozu asked. “I could learn a lot from how business is done at a place like Peacekeeper Energy.”
Jool looked at her with bewilderment. “You want to intern at Peacekeeper Energy?”
“Yes,” Sikozu replied, as if it were the most obvious thing ever.
“But they’re straight up evil!” said Chiana. “It’s bad enough that they’re oil and gas, but I’ve heard they’re colluding with Premier Grayza to get all kinds of tax breaks and lax regulations and dren. It’s why healthcare is getting so frelled in this province.”
“Not to mention what Grayza’s doing to sapient being rights,” Jool put in, wrinkling her nose. “Using the Notwithstanding Clause against teachers and against trans kids? How gross of a person can you be!”
“I keep telling you, she’s in bed with the Scarran Party down in the States,” Chiana said.
Sikozu gave them that look she always gave when she thought Jool and Chiana were being naive. “This is Alberta. Oil and gas is the business around here. Do you really want me to hamstring my opportunities for the sake of some imagined moral purity?”
“Maybe deciding to study business was your first mistake,” Chiana grumbled.
“What about looking at a placement that's diversifying the economy and the energy sector?” Jool offered. “I’ve heard there are some really exciting innovations coming out of Farscape Renewables.”
“That little start-up?” Sikozu scoffed. “What could I learn from them that I didn’t already figure out for myself getting where I am in the first place?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Chiana, “maybe how not to burn down the planet just to make a buck? If you ask me, it’s only because of greedy corpos like PK that we didn’t stop using fossil fuels cycles ago.”
“Doesn’t the glass blowing kiln in your class burn natural gas?” Sikozu shot back.
“You know what? I’m going to go visit with Pilot,” Chiana told them, grabbing her backpack and storming up to the front of Moya.
“Now look what you’ve done,” said Jool.
Sikozu shrugged and moved up to take Chiana’s seat next to Jool. “She brought it on herself.”
“Did she?” Jool asked. “Just because she has to use fossil fuel for her art doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a point.”
“And just because I want to intern at Peacekeeper Energy, it doesn’t mean that I’m automatically a shill for ‘big oil’ any more than you going into biomedical engineering makes you a shill for big pharma.”
“If you say so.”
Jool turned her attention to watching Chiana up at the front chatting with Pilot. She was so animated, but also so gentle with him. Part of Jool wanted to go up and share in that friendship, but she was trapped by Sikozu sitting between her and the aisle. Instead, she scooched down and wedged her knees up against the seat back in front of her and waited for Moya to bring them to the University of Calgary campus where they would all part ways, Chiana to the C-Train station, and Jool and Sikozu to their respective department buildings.
***
Meeklo leaned against the back wall of the elevator and closed his eyes, the scene from earlier that morning replaying on a loop in his mind.
Harvey holds him face down on the bed, one arm bent behind Meeklo’s back and a hand pinning him by the back of the neck. Meeklo thrusts his ass up to meet Harvey’s cock, chasing the orgasm building inside him. Maybe his mind wanders, maybe he has been spending too much time at work. At the point of release, he cries out, “Scorpius!”
The elevator dinged, alerting Meeklo that he’d reached his floor. He stood up straight, smoothing down his suit jacket as he composed himself before stepping out into the hall. By the time he reached the executive offices at Peacekeeper Energy, he felt almost ready to face the one-sided awkwardness of the day ahead of him.
“Ah, there you are, Braca,” Scorpius said as Meeklo walked through the door.
“Good morning, Sir,” he replied, trying to ignore the heavy thudding in his chest. He did his best not to let any part of his inner conflict show on his face and while he wasn’t sure he was successful, at least his CEO didn’t show any signs of having noticed anything.
Scorpius waved him over to his desk. “I want you to review the application of the new intern that has been selected to work here. Tell me, Braca, what do you think of her?”
Meeklo took a seat and looked over the printed pages his CEO had turned towards him. “Sikozu Svala Shanti Sugaysi Shanu,” he read. “Pursuing a BComm in Business Analytics at the UofC’s Haskayne School of Business. Looks to be accomplished for her age, and incredibly ambitious.”
“A great deal of potential, wouldn’t you say?”
“So long as she doesn’t burn herself out in a handful of cycles, absolutely,” Meeklo replied.
Scorpius smiled. “So you approve, then.”
Meeklo nodded. “Of course. Though forgive me for saying so, Sir, I’m not sure why my approval would be needed. Aren't undergraduate internships usually handled at a much lower level than this?”
“Normally that would be true. But what I see in this application is a young woman of singular talent, a talent that I wish to cultivate closely,” said Scorpius. “And as my COO, she will be reporting directly to you.”