Things were going alright so far. Troller had clothes, and we'd have to figure out shoes later or boots if he planned to stay on the boat. Inside the store, I grabbed a cart and showed him how to hold onto it. As we walked, he used the cart as a way to help steady himself. 

"There's so much green. What's this?"

"Broccoli."

"It reminds me of moss. What's this one, Royce?" He held up a bunch of green stalks.

"Asparagus." He kept pointing at things, and I named them. Lettuce. Celery. Onions. Tomatoes.

"These are pretty, and they smell pretty. What is it?"

"Green apples." I smiled. "They're tart. The red ones are sweeter."

"Can we have some?"

"Sure." I already had half the produce department in the cart. Troller loved the colors. We moved on and came to the meat department. Troller was less enthusiastic about it than the produce.

"What's all this, Royce?"

"Meat."

"Why does it smell dead?"

"Because it is. And I suppose that's true even for the synthetic and replicated stuff too."

"Why do land dwellers eat dead things? That doesn't make any sense." He looked at the different meats in the case and then stopped at one section. "Is this fish?"

"Yes, mostly. The real stuff is here, then replicated, then synthetic."

"Where are the heads? Why are they all gutted and dead?"

"Not everyone can fish. People buy things prepared for them and then take them home. Like the fruits and vegetables we picked up. It was on a vine, in the ground, or growing out of it before it came here."

"But those," he pointed to our cart, "don't smell dead. This does." He pointed to the case he stood next to.

"We don't have to get any meat if you don't want it." 

"I eat meat, but it's usually alive. Not dead."

"I'm guessing you don't cook your food either." I was amused. This was not what I thought I'd have to explain, but then again, I never expected to show someone how to use showers and toilets.

"Sometimes. There are hot vents, and if a group of fish swims through it, we eat them, but usually, we eat things as soon as we catch it or pick it."

"Okay. Maybe we stick to fruits and veg for now. I can show you how we fish from the boat." He nodded, and I smiled. The more he explained, the more it made sense. Maybe we could have sushi for dinner one night. Or pasta. The soup had been a hit before, maybe sticking with simple things would be better for now.

"Royce!" I turned away from the meat department to see Troller in front of the bakery. His nose was pressed to the donut case. I tried to wipe the grin off my face before he saw it, but I wasn't fast enough.

"It's breads! All kinds of them. Shouldn't we get more for Pete? I ate all of what Pete brought. We should have more for him." He was excited, if not more so than he was with the produce. 

I walked up next to him as he looked at each kind of pastry in the case with awe and reverence I'd only ever seen on a kid's face when they were given chocolate or candy. "I wouldn't worry about Pete. He's seeing the lady that owns the shop that makes the pastries. Her name is Marcy. He gets them for free."

Troller looked at me with an intensity that made me take a step back. "How does he do that? What does he trade for pastries? Do I have a skill to trade for pastries?"

I closed my eyes and winced. I hadn't expected to try to explain relationships to Troller, but we'd kissed earlier, so maybe he'd understand. "Pete and Marcy… um, do you remember what we did in my cabin before Pete came in?"

"I remember. We kissed. I wanted to thank you for all of your help, and you liked it. You kissed me back. And, Oh. You're saying Pete and Marcy trade kisses?" 

"Yes, among other things."

"So it's not trade; it's intimate."

"Yes. very."

"Ah." He paused in front of some croissants. "Do we need to get our own pastries then?"

I grabbed the croissants. "Sometimes. Though Pete's nice and likes to share. So, if you're nice to him, he might share with you. But you shouldn't eat all of them next time."

"Right. Because Pete worked very hard and did intimate things for the pastries," Troller said with all the sincerity of someone who had become very serious about pastries in the last two days.

I covered my face with my hand, which was hot from blushing, embarrassment, and the effort it took to keep my hysterical laughter at bay. If Pete knew Troller was willing to pimp him out for baked goods, he'd be amused himself, then probably agree with him. It was Marcy's baked goods that had Pete after her in the first place. 

"Are you okay, Royce?" 

His concern sent a pang of protectiveness through me. The last thing I wanted him to do was worry. I wiped at my face and tried to clear my throat, and choked a little, "Fine," I croaked out. 

"You sound like a frog, are you sure?" He touched my arm, and I patted his hand. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really. Is there anything else you want?" He grabbed some apple fritters and put them in the cart. I picked up some eggs and some shelf-stable milk on the way to pay for everything. Troller walked next to me as I carried our crate of goods back to the vehicle. The shopping trip had sparked more questions. 

"I learned numbers, and those seemed like a lot of numbers for food. Do you always pay so many numbers for food?" His fingers played with the end of his braid. I almost tripped by watching him instead of where I was going. 

"Sometimes." I put the food in the rear compartment with everything else and shut the lid. "Sometimes I can trade for things during the season if we have extra, or we don't catch enough to sell in bulk."

"But not kisses?" 

That comment stopped me for a moment. "Well, no, not kisses. I mean, I don't anyway. There are some that trade things like that. Because they want to, or for money, but I haven't." I leaned on the vehicle, curious as to why he was asking so much about kissing. Was he worried about our kiss earlier?

"Why not? You are a very skilled kisser, Royce. Have you never found someone to trade kisses with?"

I laughed a little thinking about Pete earlier and some of the people I dated when I was younger. I'd not dated anyone in a while. I hadn't been on a date or out with anyone in general except my crew. "Um, no, not for a long time. Though I'm glad, you think I'm a good kisser."

The setting sun caught the red in Troller's hair as he moved closer to me. "Thank you, Royce, for bartering for me." Troller leaned in and kissed me, and I wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him. It was soft and perfect. Nothing like the wild, half frenzy kiss from earlier.

I pulled back a little. "You're welcome, Troller, but you didn't have to give me a kiss for that." 

Troller smiled. "It's the first of many. I plan on earning your pastries from you."

I stood there a little stunned as Troller walked back to the front of the vehicle and got himself into the passenger side. I suddenly realized I wanted to let Troller earn or have whatever he wanted. So I pulled my phone from my pocket and called for pizza delivery. If I was lucky, it would show up by the time we got back to the boat.