Spliced: Part 4 - Chapter 4B
TITLE: Spliced - 4.4B
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m.
WORD COUNT: 2,803 (this chapter)
SUMMARY: 4.4B - The dinner continued.
NOTES: The index to this story available here. This chapter was kicking my butt in editing it, and there are probably still mistakes in here somewhere. Sorry for that. I just wanted it out of my hair finally. And thanks to aurila aka the Matt whisperer, for characterization advice. XD
FEEDBACK: Always welcome. :) Sorry for any typos.
Matt had never seen anyone turn pale enough to rival Karta’s alpine peaks.
He watched with concern as Min unsteadily made his way to the restroom, almost staggering like a drunk. Instinctively Matt wanted to stop him or go after him, but it felt… wrong, especially after what he’d done.
The way Min had looked at him as he stood up from the table, the cocky mask gone and his eyes wide and lost and agonized, made his chest tighten heavily. He’d seen a similar expression once, years ago in the mirror, and knew instantly that whatever Min was spiraling over, the clone couldn’t talk about it. Ashes, he certainly wouldn’t tell the Andorian about his own issues. So as badly as he wanted to know what had upset Min - something about his past at the lab, considering their conversation topic - on this at least, he wouldn’t push anymore.
Reaching for his wineglass, he poured himself more wine from the half empty bottle. He was already feeling the wine he’d drunk so far, but he needed more to steady himself at the moment.
Too busy focusing on the clone’s obnoxious attitude and how much it infuriated him, Matt hadn’t realized how broken Min was beneath his masks. He should’ve considered that Min’s upbringing must haunt him at least as much as Matt’s own haunted him, if not more. Matt would loathe discussing his own father; he shouldn’t have pressed Min for more details on the bastard who had abused him.
Regret at demanding more ate at him. The clone’s resistance had been a clear sign that the Andorian wasn’t comfortable with the subject, but he’d thought it was simply the clone being his obstinate, deceptive self.
He hadn’t been able to resist pressuring him for information; the clone had become an overpowering obsession for him. Ever since he saw him again on Festun, he’d noted everything he could about Min, needing to solve the puzzle that was his Andorian. As he’d admitted to Hollis months ago, before Min’s disappearance he hadn’t paid much attention to the clone beyond a certain level. He’d been just a slave to him then, but that had changed.
And now despite a month of analyzing the Andorian, he’d never suspected this. Obviously any abuse would scar someone, but he hadn’t known it still upset Min that much; in their previous conversation on the topic, he’d seemed bothered but not traumatized by it. Remembering the clone’s distressed expression a minute earlier, rage at the bastard that had done this to his Min seared him. If the asshole weren’t dead already, he’d be demanding his name to hunt him down.
Guilt replaced his fury as he once again regretted his behavior. He of all people understood that there were some things best left buried. To be fair though, the clone had suggested the questions, not Matt. Min should’ve been prepared for discussion of his past. But, Matt observed guiltily as he drank some more wine, he could have been more respectful of the clone’s entreaty to not discuss his training.
The only excuse he could conjure for his conduct was that this whole dinner had left him unsettled. It was surreal to sit across from Min at a restaurant having dinner and talking like they were friends and equals, with Min not even looking like himself. Odder still, as the night wore on he’d begun to enjoy himself despite his resentment of the clone’s manipulation.
But Min comparing him to his sister had still completely thrown Matt. Incredibly, he’d been pleased rather than offended. Until that moment, he would’ve thought he’d find it offensive to be compared to an Andorian slave, of all people. After all, he was from Karta’s upper class, growing up accustomed to wealth and to looking down on the lower classes, from the middle class all the way down to slaves.
Even though he’d left Karta years ago now and had become more open-minded about social status, Monlea still had its own stratification, albeit less strict than Karta’s. He wasn’t a snob like Kartan society had tried to teach him to be; there was more to a man than how much wealth he had. Natural borns were natural borns, and equal in his eyes. But cloned slaves were still clearly on the bottom, below naturals and free men - clone or not.
Finding his wineglass empty, he poured himself another glass as his thoughts swirled cloudily.
So why had he actually been pleased when Min compared him to his dead clone sister? Because she was his beloved sister, he belatedly realized through his stupor. If Min cared about her, then he would care about someone that reminded him of her. And Matt wanted him to care, very much. The clone had admitted as much, but he’d also left Matt once already, and planned to do so again. The Kartan would take any reassurance he could get.
Gazing out over the restaurant, noting the polished dark wood floors and the tasteful paintings on the walls, he kept a watchful eye out for Min’s return. As the din of the nearby diners and the clatter of plates passed over him, he noticed that the crowd had died down.
He found himself studying the slave servers in their red uniforms. If with all his obsessive scrutiny of Min he still hadn’t been able to see deeply enough, how much did he fail to notice about other slaves? Did they all have hidden traumas? Recalling his realization regarding the full potential for abuse within slavery during one of his recent vid calls with Min, he swallowed uncomfortably. That reminder coupled with Min’s words over dinner criticizing slavery made the answer a resounding yes. They were probably all traumatized in some way.
However, plenty of naturals were too. Everyone had bad memories; slaves having them didn’t make slavery inherently wrong, despite Min’s outrageously abolitionist opinions. It just needed to be policed better to make up for potential abuses, he told himself, not entirely convinced but unable to come up with a better solution.
The reality was that most clones, unlike Min, could never take care of themselves. They weren’t capable of it, even if Matt did acknowledge that they were people. Much like naturals born with certain mental disorders, they needed a caretaker. Being human didn’t make clones socially equal to natural born, free men like himself, even if they were legally freed. If most of them didn’t know what to do with their freedom, and couldn’t function on their own, what was the point of freeing them?
Like Nuit, for example. Even Matt could see that Nuit had no desire to leave Hollis’ side, so why free him? And Nuit couldn’t survive on his own. At least Hollis must’ve seen sense, because despite his ridiculous suggestion months ago, he’d made no move to free Nuit.
What did Min do with the ones he helped free? Matt wondered suddenly. Since he could only free a few out of the many, maybe Min only chose clones that he sensed could handle freedom. He couldn’t imagine ‘Alex’ babysitting a bunch of scared, helpless clones - although picturing it was amusing.
Matt refilled his wineglass with the last of the wine, not recalling how he’d drunk enough to empty the bottle. He wasn’t drunk - they’d eaten too much food for that - but his thinking was definitely fuzzier, although normally he was a fairly lucid drunk, thankfully. However, no amount of thinking, sober or not, was going to resolve this situation easily. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to handle his Andorian, especially since he’d come back with that improper attitude fully intact.
Yes, he understood that Min was unique, but socially he was still a clone and a slave. His slave. He’d humored Min by going to this dinner tonight, the lure of answers too strong to resist, but it wouldn’t change anything. Min was still his, and despite his attitude as ‘Alex’, he’d still signed a contract agreeing to serve him, and Matt would ensure that he upheld it. How he could manage that without pushing Min too far was a mystery he had yet to solve though.
Like he’d pushed him too far tonight. Guilt ate at him again as he acknowledged once more that he’d acted badly.
Although the clone’s treatment of him these past months angered Matt, his intention wasn’t to subject Min to anymore abuse. But he did need to discipline him for his past offenses. He couldn’t allow the clone to think that because of his special characteristics, he wasn’t answerable to Matt. Legally he was still a slave, not his equal. Having a childhood and a family of sorts didn’t change his genes or his social status.
Remembering Min’s passionate words back in his office, calling almost wistfully for them to have a deeper relationship, Matt focused on how the clone’s eyes had looked then. They’d been full of emotion, and it reminded him of Min’s pale, tortured look minutes earlier. He should be furious with the Andorian still for all he’d done to him, but Min’s haunted expression kept tearing at him.
He couldn’t embrace that anger at the moment, his worried gaze sliding over to the restrooms again. Any rage he could stir up was all for the man who had abused him, and at himself, for pressuring the Andorian too much.
Considering the restaurant’s layout, Min couldn’t leave without him noticing, but his apprehension grew as the clone’s absence lengthened. Signaling for the bill, he pondered the situation. Should he go after him?
The Andorian server returned, and Matt spared one last glance towards the men’s room before deciding to pay the bill. He pulled out his PC and completed the digital transaction. Why he suddenly felt the need to pay he didn’t analyze too closely, beyond telling himself that it was more proper for him to pay and not the clone-the slave. That reasoning rang hollow as he strode towards the restroom afterwards, worry for Min and embarrassment for his previous behavior churning in his gut, but he ignored it.
As he reached the hallway he spiraled out for a moment when he spotted the side door at the end of the corridor. Had the clone slipped out without him knowing it? Panic at the thought of losing Min again already made his pulse race. Maybe Min had left, deciding that he was pushing him too much already, or that things would never work out. Or maybe he’d just spiraled out and gone outside for some air. With trepidation he paused at the men’s room door, hoping Min was still in there but afraid to find him gone.
Suddenly the door opened to reveal the clone, who started at seeing Matt right there. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and Matt observed that he still appeared drawn and haggard, but at least looked better than he had before. The Andorian held the door open, staring at him but not venturing out, so Matt approached him.
Min stepped back to give him room and Matt entered, putting his hands in his pants pockets as he studied the clone anxiously.
Noticing that the rest of the bathroom was thankfully empty, Matt couldn’t help asking quietly, “Are you all right?”
Min closed his eyes and nodded, but the tension thrumming through his body gave the real answer. He looked so fragile then, more vulnerable than Matt had ever seen him before, his masks still gone.
Chest tightening with concern, Matt instinctively put his arms around him. The hiss of an indrawn breath was the only sound Min made, remaining stiff in Matt’s embrace.
Swallowing, Matt forced out gruffly, his lips brushing Min’s ear. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He felt Min tense, but the Andorian kept his arms at his sides. Matt couldn’t really blame him for still being upset, but it hadn’t been easy to say.
Neither was Min’s apology, his cloudy brain realized belatedly, and I didn’t accept that very gracefully either. It works both ways.
He needed to do something to fix this, like Min had tried earlier. The idea came to him and his loosened tongue acted on it instantly, before he could rethink it.
Choking on the words as if they were mine-tar, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
After a long moment, Min let out a deep breath and relaxed, his head drifting forward to lean against Matt’s shoulder. The Kartan stroked his back soothingly, and the Andorian’s arms finally rose from his sides to clutch him tightly.
Matt had never hugged Min like this before, not to comfort him. He found that he liked it though - especially the press of the lean, warm and familiar body against his own, doing dangerous things to his control - and he was disappointed when Min’s arms loosened and the clone shifted backwards away from him. Still feeling guilty, Matt let him go without a struggle, but he missed the feel of the Andorian in his arms, among other things.
However, he had to fight back a grin when he saw Min scrutinizing him suspiciously, as if he were a bee that might suddenly go berserk and sting him.
Not able to restrain the dark smile anymore, Matt said dryly, “Oh don’t worry, I’m still angry with you, but it can wait, Min.”
“Alex,” the clone corrected, scowling at him and crossing his arms defensively.
“Min,” Matt insisted, deciding that if the Andorian could argue he must be feeling better.
The Kartan wondered again what had upset Min so much. The question sat in his mouth like ashes, heavy on his tongue. If Min couldn’t handle thinking about it though, he definitely wouldn’t talk about it. And after Min’s criticism earlier, he didn’t want to push; this one mistake notwithstanding, Alex had proven that he only became more stubborn when pushed, not less.
They stood there in awkward silence, Min regarding him with the wary irritation of a man roused from sleep in the middle of the night. Yes, the clone was still pissed that he’d demanded uncomfortable answers about his past, and suddenly Matt felt too inebriated to deal with it any longer.
“We should go,” Matt told him.
“Yeah,” Min murmured, nodding faintly. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a roll of cash.
Matt’s eyebrows rose. Ah, so that was how the clone had planned to pay. He’d suspected as much, knowing the clone concealed his identity as carefully as one might hide a rare diamond.
Putting a hand on the Andorian’s arm to halt him, he revealed, “I already took care of it.”
“What?” Min said, blinking. Then he looked offended. “But I told you I would pay. I invited you.”
Matt hid his surprise at Min’s reaction, shrugging. “It’s fine. I thought you might want to get out of here quickly,” he told him, latching onto that excuse before his loose tongue got away from him again.
The clone stared at him suspiciously, and to his embarrassment, Matt felt his face flush again. Thankfully, the clone refrained from calling him on it with some sarcastic comment.
Instead, Min gave him a faint smile and then said gruffly, “Well, thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
Matt turned to go, but it was Min who stopped him this time.
“Wait.”
Matt glanced back at him and the Andorian asked warily, “What about the last question?”
Frowning, Matt paused. In his distraction, he’d forgotten about the rest of the questions. His lips curved as an appealing idea came to him.
“I’ll save the last two questions for later. After all, I’ll have plenty of time to ask them.”
Min scowled. “You’ve only got one question left, Muldane.”
“Not by my reckoning,” Matt told him.
The Andorian met him stare for stare, and Matt braced himself for further arguments. Instead the clone switched strides, commenting, “I’m surprised you’re not asking what was wrong with me.”
Once he adjusted for the change in topic, Matt’s gaze softened, catching the fear beneath the words. It surprised him that Min would face it head on by deliberately bringing it up, especially when he clearly was afraid of him asking.
“Not tonight,” Matt told him, the words brushing the air as gently as a light breeze.
One Andorian eyebrow quirked up in curiosity and he replied dryly, “And here I thought everything about me was your business.”
Ah, there was that sarcasm. It hadn’t taken long to return.
“If you think so, I’m more than happy to go along with it,” Matt replied, smirking cheerfully.
A bark of laughter from the clone. “I think not.”
Matt snorted, expecting as much.
“Come on,” Muldane said lightly, grabbing Min’s hand to tug him out the door. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 5A
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m.
WORD COUNT: 2,803 (this chapter)
SUMMARY: 4.4B - The dinner continued.
NOTES: The index to this story available here. This chapter was kicking my butt in editing it, and there are probably still mistakes in here somewhere. Sorry for that. I just wanted it out of my hair finally. And thanks to aurila aka the Matt whisperer, for characterization advice. XD
FEEDBACK: Always welcome. :) Sorry for any typos.
Matt had never seen anyone turn pale enough to rival Karta’s alpine peaks.
He watched with concern as Min unsteadily made his way to the restroom, almost staggering like a drunk. Instinctively Matt wanted to stop him or go after him, but it felt… wrong, especially after what he’d done.
The way Min had looked at him as he stood up from the table, the cocky mask gone and his eyes wide and lost and agonized, made his chest tighten heavily. He’d seen a similar expression once, years ago in the mirror, and knew instantly that whatever Min was spiraling over, the clone couldn’t talk about it. Ashes, he certainly wouldn’t tell the Andorian about his own issues. So as badly as he wanted to know what had upset Min - something about his past at the lab, considering their conversation topic - on this at least, he wouldn’t push anymore.
Reaching for his wineglass, he poured himself more wine from the half empty bottle. He was already feeling the wine he’d drunk so far, but he needed more to steady himself at the moment.
Too busy focusing on the clone’s obnoxious attitude and how much it infuriated him, Matt hadn’t realized how broken Min was beneath his masks. He should’ve considered that Min’s upbringing must haunt him at least as much as Matt’s own haunted him, if not more. Matt would loathe discussing his own father; he shouldn’t have pressed Min for more details on the bastard who had abused him.
Regret at demanding more ate at him. The clone’s resistance had been a clear sign that the Andorian wasn’t comfortable with the subject, but he’d thought it was simply the clone being his obstinate, deceptive self.
He hadn’t been able to resist pressuring him for information; the clone had become an overpowering obsession for him. Ever since he saw him again on Festun, he’d noted everything he could about Min, needing to solve the puzzle that was his Andorian. As he’d admitted to Hollis months ago, before Min’s disappearance he hadn’t paid much attention to the clone beyond a certain level. He’d been just a slave to him then, but that had changed.
And now despite a month of analyzing the Andorian, he’d never suspected this. Obviously any abuse would scar someone, but he hadn’t known it still upset Min that much; in their previous conversation on the topic, he’d seemed bothered but not traumatized by it. Remembering the clone’s distressed expression a minute earlier, rage at the bastard that had done this to his Min seared him. If the asshole weren’t dead already, he’d be demanding his name to hunt him down.
Guilt replaced his fury as he once again regretted his behavior. He of all people understood that there were some things best left buried. To be fair though, the clone had suggested the questions, not Matt. Min should’ve been prepared for discussion of his past. But, Matt observed guiltily as he drank some more wine, he could have been more respectful of the clone’s entreaty to not discuss his training.
The only excuse he could conjure for his conduct was that this whole dinner had left him unsettled. It was surreal to sit across from Min at a restaurant having dinner and talking like they were friends and equals, with Min not even looking like himself. Odder still, as the night wore on he’d begun to enjoy himself despite his resentment of the clone’s manipulation.
But Min comparing him to his sister had still completely thrown Matt. Incredibly, he’d been pleased rather than offended. Until that moment, he would’ve thought he’d find it offensive to be compared to an Andorian slave, of all people. After all, he was from Karta’s upper class, growing up accustomed to wealth and to looking down on the lower classes, from the middle class all the way down to slaves.
Even though he’d left Karta years ago now and had become more open-minded about social status, Monlea still had its own stratification, albeit less strict than Karta’s. He wasn’t a snob like Kartan society had tried to teach him to be; there was more to a man than how much wealth he had. Natural borns were natural borns, and equal in his eyes. But cloned slaves were still clearly on the bottom, below naturals and free men - clone or not.
Finding his wineglass empty, he poured himself another glass as his thoughts swirled cloudily.
So why had he actually been pleased when Min compared him to his dead clone sister? Because she was his beloved sister, he belatedly realized through his stupor. If Min cared about her, then he would care about someone that reminded him of her. And Matt wanted him to care, very much. The clone had admitted as much, but he’d also left Matt once already, and planned to do so again. The Kartan would take any reassurance he could get.
Gazing out over the restaurant, noting the polished dark wood floors and the tasteful paintings on the walls, he kept a watchful eye out for Min’s return. As the din of the nearby diners and the clatter of plates passed over him, he noticed that the crowd had died down.
He found himself studying the slave servers in their red uniforms. If with all his obsessive scrutiny of Min he still hadn’t been able to see deeply enough, how much did he fail to notice about other slaves? Did they all have hidden traumas? Recalling his realization regarding the full potential for abuse within slavery during one of his recent vid calls with Min, he swallowed uncomfortably. That reminder coupled with Min’s words over dinner criticizing slavery made the answer a resounding yes. They were probably all traumatized in some way.
However, plenty of naturals were too. Everyone had bad memories; slaves having them didn’t make slavery inherently wrong, despite Min’s outrageously abolitionist opinions. It just needed to be policed better to make up for potential abuses, he told himself, not entirely convinced but unable to come up with a better solution.
The reality was that most clones, unlike Min, could never take care of themselves. They weren’t capable of it, even if Matt did acknowledge that they were people. Much like naturals born with certain mental disorders, they needed a caretaker. Being human didn’t make clones socially equal to natural born, free men like himself, even if they were legally freed. If most of them didn’t know what to do with their freedom, and couldn’t function on their own, what was the point of freeing them?
Like Nuit, for example. Even Matt could see that Nuit had no desire to leave Hollis’ side, so why free him? And Nuit couldn’t survive on his own. At least Hollis must’ve seen sense, because despite his ridiculous suggestion months ago, he’d made no move to free Nuit.
What did Min do with the ones he helped free? Matt wondered suddenly. Since he could only free a few out of the many, maybe Min only chose clones that he sensed could handle freedom. He couldn’t imagine ‘Alex’ babysitting a bunch of scared, helpless clones - although picturing it was amusing.
Matt refilled his wineglass with the last of the wine, not recalling how he’d drunk enough to empty the bottle. He wasn’t drunk - they’d eaten too much food for that - but his thinking was definitely fuzzier, although normally he was a fairly lucid drunk, thankfully. However, no amount of thinking, sober or not, was going to resolve this situation easily. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to handle his Andorian, especially since he’d come back with that improper attitude fully intact.
Yes, he understood that Min was unique, but socially he was still a clone and a slave. His slave. He’d humored Min by going to this dinner tonight, the lure of answers too strong to resist, but it wouldn’t change anything. Min was still his, and despite his attitude as ‘Alex’, he’d still signed a contract agreeing to serve him, and Matt would ensure that he upheld it. How he could manage that without pushing Min too far was a mystery he had yet to solve though.
Like he’d pushed him too far tonight. Guilt ate at him again as he acknowledged once more that he’d acted badly.
Although the clone’s treatment of him these past months angered Matt, his intention wasn’t to subject Min to anymore abuse. But he did need to discipline him for his past offenses. He couldn’t allow the clone to think that because of his special characteristics, he wasn’t answerable to Matt. Legally he was still a slave, not his equal. Having a childhood and a family of sorts didn’t change his genes or his social status.
Remembering Min’s passionate words back in his office, calling almost wistfully for them to have a deeper relationship, Matt focused on how the clone’s eyes had looked then. They’d been full of emotion, and it reminded him of Min’s pale, tortured look minutes earlier. He should be furious with the Andorian still for all he’d done to him, but Min’s haunted expression kept tearing at him.
He couldn’t embrace that anger at the moment, his worried gaze sliding over to the restrooms again. Any rage he could stir up was all for the man who had abused him, and at himself, for pressuring the Andorian too much.
Considering the restaurant’s layout, Min couldn’t leave without him noticing, but his apprehension grew as the clone’s absence lengthened. Signaling for the bill, he pondered the situation. Should he go after him?
The Andorian server returned, and Matt spared one last glance towards the men’s room before deciding to pay the bill. He pulled out his PC and completed the digital transaction. Why he suddenly felt the need to pay he didn’t analyze too closely, beyond telling himself that it was more proper for him to pay and not the clone-the slave. That reasoning rang hollow as he strode towards the restroom afterwards, worry for Min and embarrassment for his previous behavior churning in his gut, but he ignored it.
As he reached the hallway he spiraled out for a moment when he spotted the side door at the end of the corridor. Had the clone slipped out without him knowing it? Panic at the thought of losing Min again already made his pulse race. Maybe Min had left, deciding that he was pushing him too much already, or that things would never work out. Or maybe he’d just spiraled out and gone outside for some air. With trepidation he paused at the men’s room door, hoping Min was still in there but afraid to find him gone.
Suddenly the door opened to reveal the clone, who started at seeing Matt right there. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and Matt observed that he still appeared drawn and haggard, but at least looked better than he had before. The Andorian held the door open, staring at him but not venturing out, so Matt approached him.
Min stepped back to give him room and Matt entered, putting his hands in his pants pockets as he studied the clone anxiously.
Noticing that the rest of the bathroom was thankfully empty, Matt couldn’t help asking quietly, “Are you all right?”
Min closed his eyes and nodded, but the tension thrumming through his body gave the real answer. He looked so fragile then, more vulnerable than Matt had ever seen him before, his masks still gone.
Chest tightening with concern, Matt instinctively put his arms around him. The hiss of an indrawn breath was the only sound Min made, remaining stiff in Matt’s embrace.
Swallowing, Matt forced out gruffly, his lips brushing Min’s ear. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He felt Min tense, but the Andorian kept his arms at his sides. Matt couldn’t really blame him for still being upset, but it hadn’t been easy to say.
Neither was Min’s apology, his cloudy brain realized belatedly, and I didn’t accept that very gracefully either. It works both ways.
He needed to do something to fix this, like Min had tried earlier. The idea came to him and his loosened tongue acted on it instantly, before he could rethink it.
Choking on the words as if they were mine-tar, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
After a long moment, Min let out a deep breath and relaxed, his head drifting forward to lean against Matt’s shoulder. The Kartan stroked his back soothingly, and the Andorian’s arms finally rose from his sides to clutch him tightly.
Matt had never hugged Min like this before, not to comfort him. He found that he liked it though - especially the press of the lean, warm and familiar body against his own, doing dangerous things to his control - and he was disappointed when Min’s arms loosened and the clone shifted backwards away from him. Still feeling guilty, Matt let him go without a struggle, but he missed the feel of the Andorian in his arms, among other things.
However, he had to fight back a grin when he saw Min scrutinizing him suspiciously, as if he were a bee that might suddenly go berserk and sting him.
Not able to restrain the dark smile anymore, Matt said dryly, “Oh don’t worry, I’m still angry with you, but it can wait, Min.”
“Alex,” the clone corrected, scowling at him and crossing his arms defensively.
“Min,” Matt insisted, deciding that if the Andorian could argue he must be feeling better.
The Kartan wondered again what had upset Min so much. The question sat in his mouth like ashes, heavy on his tongue. If Min couldn’t handle thinking about it though, he definitely wouldn’t talk about it. And after Min’s criticism earlier, he didn’t want to push; this one mistake notwithstanding, Alex had proven that he only became more stubborn when pushed, not less.
They stood there in awkward silence, Min regarding him with the wary irritation of a man roused from sleep in the middle of the night. Yes, the clone was still pissed that he’d demanded uncomfortable answers about his past, and suddenly Matt felt too inebriated to deal with it any longer.
“We should go,” Matt told him.
“Yeah,” Min murmured, nodding faintly. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a roll of cash.
Matt’s eyebrows rose. Ah, so that was how the clone had planned to pay. He’d suspected as much, knowing the clone concealed his identity as carefully as one might hide a rare diamond.
Putting a hand on the Andorian’s arm to halt him, he revealed, “I already took care of it.”
“What?” Min said, blinking. Then he looked offended. “But I told you I would pay. I invited you.”
Matt hid his surprise at Min’s reaction, shrugging. “It’s fine. I thought you might want to get out of here quickly,” he told him, latching onto that excuse before his loose tongue got away from him again.
The clone stared at him suspiciously, and to his embarrassment, Matt felt his face flush again. Thankfully, the clone refrained from calling him on it with some sarcastic comment.
Instead, Min gave him a faint smile and then said gruffly, “Well, thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
Matt turned to go, but it was Min who stopped him this time.
“Wait.”
Matt glanced back at him and the Andorian asked warily, “What about the last question?”
Frowning, Matt paused. In his distraction, he’d forgotten about the rest of the questions. His lips curved as an appealing idea came to him.
“I’ll save the last two questions for later. After all, I’ll have plenty of time to ask them.”
Min scowled. “You’ve only got one question left, Muldane.”
“Not by my reckoning,” Matt told him.
The Andorian met him stare for stare, and Matt braced himself for further arguments. Instead the clone switched strides, commenting, “I’m surprised you’re not asking what was wrong with me.”
Once he adjusted for the change in topic, Matt’s gaze softened, catching the fear beneath the words. It surprised him that Min would face it head on by deliberately bringing it up, especially when he clearly was afraid of him asking.
“Not tonight,” Matt told him, the words brushing the air as gently as a light breeze.
One Andorian eyebrow quirked up in curiosity and he replied dryly, “And here I thought everything about me was your business.”
Ah, there was that sarcasm. It hadn’t taken long to return.
“If you think so, I’m more than happy to go along with it,” Matt replied, smirking cheerfully.
A bark of laughter from the clone. “I think not.”
Matt snorted, expecting as much.
“Come on,” Muldane said lightly, grabbing Min’s hand to tug him out the door. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 5A