“Listen, I think we’ve started off on the wrong foot,” Corby started. “Let’s try again.”

The boy’s expression changed. He seemed to be listening to Corby intently, not hissing anymore.

“I’m not sure where you’ve come from and where you’re going but tell you what, you’re lucky you ended up here in my apartment, okay? You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“This might not be much,” he said, gesturing at the apartment around him. “But you’re safe. This is probably the best place you could have landed in Manhattan.”

At that, the boy relaxed, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Corby’s expression softened too. This was going a lot better the second time around.

“Can you talk?” he asked, stepping a quarter of an inch closer to him. The boy considered it.

“T-aaaalk…” he mimicked, not quite yet grasping the vowels.

“You have a name?” Corby continued, pretty sure he didn’t understand the words but he wanted him to get used to the tone of his voice rather, meanwhile inching his way closer to him. At least, that way, they were beginning to communicate.

“N-aaaaame…” the boy repeated, curious at the sound he made.

“My name is Corby. Major Corby Dallas.”

He pushed a thumb to his chest.

“Me…Corby.”

The man-boy repeated it, “Corrrrby…”

He gazed inquisitively at his own thumb before pressing it to his chest, the way Corby had. Seemed like he just became aware of his fingers, or the fact he had a chest.

“Me, Corby, yes,” Corby dittoed, pointing his index finger at himself. And then pointed it at him.

“And you? Do you have a name? What do I call you?”

The boy looked at Corby’s finger, processing, then shifted his gaze at himself. A flicker of understanding sparked in his eyes and the tiniest of smiles adorned his face.

“Loo...” he breathed.

He looked back at Corby to see how he was going to interpret that. Corby squinted at him. Then smiles himself.

“Loo?” he asked, a little surprised. When he was asking him for his name he didn’t really expect for the boy to actually come up with an answer. But he did. He was bright. He seemed to be learning fast.

“Loo,” Corby repeated to taste the name on his tongue again. “I like it. That’s a pretty name. It suits you.”

The man-boy smiled wider, hiding his eyes now under his long red eyelashes, a little abashed, the red of his cheeks driving Corby crazy, melting his heart. A downright stupid expression settled on Corby’s face as he watched him.

“Corby, Loo. Loo, Corby!” he chanted, utterly silly, nonetheless making the boy smile. Finally, the two had reached some kind of understanding, at least regarding their names, which was a good start. There was something there, happening right now between them, Corby could tell. Something he never felt before. A connection being established, a bond. Between the two organisms, two human beings, two men. Or at least one of them was a man. And the other one just looked the part. But it didn’t matter. Corby didn’t care. He never felt this way before. Whatever the man-boy was, an alien or a human being, with him Corby had unexpectedly shared a very special moment right now. And that was all that mattered. Because with every fiber of his being, he wanted the moment to last, for as long as was possible, eternity maybe. Was that too much to ask? He knew one thing for sure, he didn’t want it to ever end, most definitely.

Of course, immediately after he thought that it had to end. Just his luck! There was a knock on the door, followed by the doorbell. And the moment was lost, connection severed. The boy turned sharply towards the door and scowled. Corby cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” he hurried to reassure him. “There’s nothing wrong, nothing to be scared of.”

The boy listened but wasn’t convinced. His whole body tensed up when there was another knock and the doorbell combo.

“I’m coming!” shouted Corby in the direction of his entrance door, annoyed. He wasn’t expecting company. Although, after what happened, it was only natural there were going to be people there. Guys from the military too. Who else? He rolled his eyes. For all they knew a meteor made a hole in his apartment building. It was not something that happened every day. They were no doubt here to investigate. They were going to need their answers.

Leaving the boy behind, Corby opened the door. It was a miracle it didn’t get blown off its hinges.

“Yes?” he said, mock-pleasantly, giving the visitors a once-over. The military crowd in front of him parted, he guessed it right, and General Monroe stepped in. Broad-shouldered and all, just the way he remembered it. Here in person. Contemptuous expression plastered permanently on her face, same as when he used to serve under her. Oh, the good old days. Only he didn’t understand to what he owed such a pleasure.

“General Monroe!” he announced, smiling at her mischievously if a little surprised as to why she was here. It was like an apparition, yet another miracle. “Nice seeing you here, in the Block 3000.”

She took that on the chin. He got her there. She’d become pampered over the last few years, maybe more than a few. Not that she liked it but it was true. For her, it was the cleanliness of the White House now over the squalor of Block 3000, which was where she was from.

“Major,” she allowed. Her gaze shifted nonchalantly from his face to the wreckage behind his back. Corby clocked it. So it was the boy she wanted. He could tell she wasn’t here just to say hello.

“So, how you’ve been?” she asked, returning her attention to his face. Her expression was impassive but Corby knew the woman well. His eyebrows popped up at her blatant attempt at a chit-chat, which after all, the last time he saw her she booted him from the military. She could have guessed how he’d been. He’d been like crap. He, nonchalantly, looked behind her back too, counting the soldiers.

“Good-good…” he returned since they were playing the polite game. There was a full squad behind her. Armed too. When his gaze bounced back to her, they maintained eye contact for a long moment. Their eyes sure could speak louder than words.

“You?” he asked finally, though he could have guessed she was doing good, as per her usual. Rarely did General Monroe find herself in trouble these days. She was a fat cat! Although, if he called her that, she would have punched him in the face.

“G-o-o-o-d!” she drawled. “Mind if we come in?”

“Do I?” he asked. He did, actually.

He just wasn’t sure he was in a position to mind. Or rather, he was sure he wasn’t. Looking at her, he could tell she appreciated that little game they played. After all, the two of them could play that game like nobody else. Not many would even have the balls to play with her. He did. And she appreciated it. Though she wasn’t beyond letting him know she was winning.

“I don’t think you do, actually,” she whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to him. He pulled away.

“Would I keep you waiting at the door? We’re old pals! Come on in. Be my guest, General,” he announced out loud, theatrically. Sounded convincing too. He’d almost convinced himself he meant it.

“Very sweet of you. Thank you!” she returned curtly.

He backed away, letting her in, and the squad of soldiers that trailed inside after her. Corby’s apartment was about the size of a freight elevator. The place got crowded fast.

Monroe pushed Corby into the wall with her voluminous chest, not to miss the opportunity. She didn’t want him to cause any trouble. Not that he was going to. She hoped not. But she still pinned him in place just in case, letting her trench monkeys take care of business in the meantime. Standard protocol. Nothing to be worried about really. Corby still tried to wriggle himself out of her crippling embrace, especially when he saw the men in uniform approach the man-boy. Which he regarded them curiously if a little on guard. But he wasn’t hissing at them or anything. Guess, their interaction with Corby calmed him down.

Monroe put her head in front of Corby’s face, blocking his view. And she tried to maintain eye contact. She didn’t want him getting any ideas. Corby huffed, fidgeting helplessly in one place. But understanding the futility of his attempts, he gave up on it shortly. He fixed Monroe with a cold stare instead but it did nothing. She sneered at that contemptuously. They’d known each other for many years. She knew him well. The boy behind her back was exactly Corby’s type, she knew that. The type he’d usually go for anyway. Pretty face, lean, damaged, mysterious, perfect on paper. Only he was really not. She told him time and time again that boys like this weren’t good for him. But he didn’t listen. To his own detriment too. He should have just dated one of them squaddies and he’d be fine. But when she told him that he told her to go fuck herself. And there he was again, pining for someone who was only going to get him in trouble, someone who couldn’t love him back.

Looking at her, Corby knew exactly what she was thinking. And no, he wasn’t planning on being difficult. She was 6.2, for God’s sake. He was planning on being a good boy. For as long as she was around anyway, keeping her eagle eye on him. For the old time's sake, he’d do as was told. He glanced over her shoulder at the boy. He just wanted to make sure they weren’t hurting him. They had him wrapped up in a blanket now, immobilized. Snug as a bug. He was already yawning. Soon he’d be losing consciousness. The blanket was soaked in chloroform, of course. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Chloroform? Really?” Corby asked, giving Monroe attitude. She just shrugged.

“Old tricks are the best tricks, Major.”

When the boy was out, they carried him away carefully. And the orb. And all the pieces of gold scattered around. And even Corby’s new and improved golden toothbrush.

“Not my toothbrush! Come on,” he protested.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Monroe said. Corby glowered at her. Everything on site was put into sterile containers and taken away. They were taking away everything. Literally, everything he owned. His measly earthly possessions.

“On behalf of the government,” Monroe said. “You are being issued a one-time rectification payment of five thousand dollars, zero cents, deposited to your bank account as of…”

She glanced at her watch.

“Right now. Thank you for your cooperation!”

Corby’s earpiece chimed. There was a new notification! Monroe beamed at him. His own lips curved in a mock smile. They thought of everything, hadn’t they? Nothing like five thousand dollars to shut him up. And he was sure Monroe was made aware his account balance was hotfoot approaching zero.

“What are you going to do to him?” he asked. He didn’t care about the money. To hell with the gold, and his golden toothbrush. He wanted none of it. All he really cared about now was the boy. Why he cared about him so much all of a sudden, he didn’t know. But that was a different question. He looked into Monroe’s eyes, trying to get past whatever resentment she still harbored over him failing his last mission. Because he was one of her best soldiers once. Maybe even the best one. He disappointed her very much. He knew that. Still, he repeated his question pleadingly.

“What are they going to do to him?”

She sighed wearily. But he knew she was still someone he could trust. If she said the boy was going to be fine, then he’d be fine, he’d believe her. He knew, deep in her heart, she still thought fondly of him, no matter what. She wouldn’t lie to him. He was, after all, her best soldier.

“Don’t worry about it, Major. He’s under government’s protection now,” she said, the best she could offer. She wasn’t lying too. She was being earnest with him if a little coy.

“Right,” Corby replied, dryly. Not what he wanted to hear from her. She didn’t say he was going to be fine, which meant she wasn’t able to make sure. His fate was out of her hands somehow. And it wouldn’t do for Corby.

He didn’t say anything. She looked him deadpan in the eyes, hoping he wasn’t looking for reassurances. He wasn’t getting any. She hoped he knew that. When she decided he was all right, she moved on. She gave his apartment a once-over. It really wasn’t much to look at, especially now.

“Say…” she started. “A cozy little place you got here, a nice little life, new toothbrush, new hair…Looks like you’ve been treating yourself well lately.”

He blinked slowly at the jab. His apartment was a joke, and she knew that. He didn’t choose it to be this small. It was all he could afford at the moment. And as for his hair, well yes, thank you for noticing! He dyed it blond just a couple of weeks ago, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but it really wasn’t. Not because it didn’t look good on him. It looked fine! But it cost him half his rent. And he usually wasn’t like that, but it was the definition of an impulse purchase. He just wanted to turn a new leaf, start fresh. Turned out, even with the new hair, he couldn’t do it.

“Why’d you ask?” he asked. She cocked her head, looked at him impishly. She was angling for something, he could tell. Was dying to know what it was actually. She was rarely like this. Usually, she was more direct. Must have been a reason for all of this. He was very curious. She got him there. Meanwhile, she continued beating around the bush, took her time studying his apartment. A shoal of multicolored GloFish in his inbuilt aquarium attracted her attention. She towered over them, watching them scram, amused with their tiny little flippers and neon-colored scales. Corby watched her intently. The fish had an 8mm polycarbonate glass to protect them from the explosion, and her. He though, as per his usual, wasn't so lucky.

“Got yourself a fish tank too, huh? Fancy!” she exclaimed. Corby watched her, poker-faced. It was already there when he got here.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, expecting him to blow up or throw a tantrum any moment now. Overstep his bounds with her somehow. But he learned his lesson with her the hard way. He wasn’t going to blow up. He’d play it cool, play subordinate. Even though technically he didn’t work for her anymore. But she, no doubt, was going to disagree.

“Those clever little bastards, what do you know…” she said, continuing the charade.

“Can you get to the point, General? I’ve had a rough night. I got things to do.”

She turned to him. She taught him well. He learned the rules of the game alright by now. He was learning to be independent, she could tell. Trying his best. It was commendable of him. If only he wasn’t still looking for somebody else’s approval.

The condescending look on her face, Corby could have sworn he had it with that goddamn woman. He wished he was done playing her games. He wasn’t hers to play with, not anymore. He was his own, he belonged to himself! He wished he could tell her that. But as he was getting his courage up, she beat him to it...