They were in the confined catwalk of level four, peering at the opened hatch of the communications module. Jahaira worked cautiously, her slim fingers nimble as she moved the tools, aimed delicately, a tiny burst of laser here, withdrawal of a connection there. She explained as she went, but fell silent after a while, concentrating on her work. He leaned over her shoulder, learning from what she said and what she did, too, watching intently. After a while he became aware of her scent, an unobtrusive animal smell, not at all offensive, and actually distracting, in that it reminded him that she was a 'she'. He shifted, moved back slightly, but there was nowhere to go in such a cramped space, and he
did
need to see what she was doing.
Without looking at him she began to speak, her voice unassuming, maybe a little amused. "In our culture people are very used to being closed in," she said conversationally. "But they don't like it. The older generation, especially, has very set ideas about what they call 'personal space.'"
She seemed to be waiting for a response, and so he obligingly replied. "I was just thinking about that," he admitted with a smile--not too strained, he hoped, although she wasn't looking at him in any case. "We have the same ideas. I think most animals do. Territorial needs, maybe."
"My people have a little bit of, what do you call it? Empathy, maybe?" She was responding to the surprise in his voice, to his first admission.
"I just thought I was obvious," he said, and his smile was more genuine.
"Maybe you have a little empathy, too?" She raised her eyebrows, looking down at her tool belt as she put away her tiny welder; the arch of her eyebrow, the small smile on her lips were extremely attractive.
"I don't know." He had actually tested high on receptive empathy at the Academy; latent, mostly, but with a slight knack for knowing what others were thinking, what they wanted from him. "Maybe a little." Her hair was black-black, so black that the fluorescent lights overhead brought out blue flashes in its shining curve over her head and in the intricate braid down her back. Wisps had escaped the braid, and she brushed them back, still with her back to him, still with that subtle smile.