She walked away from the sitting area and pulled out her yellow hard case. They each received one for some limited quantity of personal effects beyond the essentials like grooming products and clothes. Not much but it was cherished by almost all the station inhabitants. She popped the lid and revealed some art supplies, not surprising, but she shoved them all aside and reached to the bottom. Her face shifted and he felt her body tense up. Returning to him now, she carried a small wooden box. She set it down on the table between them, and winced.

“I want you to hear music, and not just me humming or something stupid,” said Leonora, not able to make eye contact. She wobbled a little on the edge of her seat nervously.

She nudged the box towards him. Ori gently reached for the object to inspect it further, and it appeared so small in his large grey hands. Decorative little objects adorned it, and his hands found a small brass latch. He flicked it gently and opened to lid. Inside, the glint of metal and shine of stones hidden among scraps of paper. The lid rested open and revealed a reflective oval and all in an instant he took in his alien face framed by fleshy pink fabric and a delicate sound chimed out to him. He lifted the box closer, not wanting to miss a single sound. His grey eyes pierced through her as she drifted away into her thoughts.

Leonora didn’t want to let the memories of childhood invade her mind. She was fighting a losing battle and couldn’t stop the flood of tears welling in her eyes. She squeezed them shut and her body tensed in resistance. The pain grew until she had no choice but to give in. She sang softly, and tears rolled down her face.

Amazing Grace

The words followed the strange and beautiful sounds escaping the box. And after a few minutes, her voice and the gentle music faded to silence. Ori had finished marveling at the tiny treasure and closed the lid. With a click of the latch, he locked it and set it into the middle of her table.

“Were you humming?”

“No, that’s singing, and I’m not good at it.”

“Why does it make your eyes wet?”

“It makes me cry because it reminds me of a time I was sad,” she lifted her hand to wipe her face.

He caught her wrist and inspected the tears on her fingers.

“Humans are so watery,” he mumbled.

She chuckled and sniffled. “When I come back from leave, I will bring you better examples of music. I will ditch some art supplies so we can have more to talk about.”

“You leave tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “My parents want me home for Christmas.”

“What is a Christmas?” he was unmistakably excited to hear this new word.

“It’s this day once a year where families gather and celebrate. There’s decorations, special food and drinks, and people exchange presents to show they care about each other. You have to see it to understand, I guess.” She realized it sounded embarrassing and juvenile.

Presents sounded family to him, even if this Christmas was odd. He stood slowly and pulled a package from the folds in his robes.

“This is for Christmas then,” he passed the object to her gently. “I wanted to give you something to say thank you, and I was going to wait for tomorrow. Now seems better. It will make you less sad.”

She smiled gently pushing his hand back. “I can’t accept anything. I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“Is it required to exchange gifts equally? Is this customary?”

“No,” she started to blush. “But it is polite and I am working on not being an asshole, remember?”

He paused to work out the strange social conundrum. “Repay me with more music when you return.”

She sighed and he thrust the package at her excitedly. He inched his chair closer to hers and took a seat.

As she tore open the decorative fabric wrapping, she peered up through her lashes at him. Her heart skipped a beat. Was starting to smile?

She looked down to discover an alien dagger. She grinned devilishly.

“How did you sneak this in,” she demanded.

“I know a guy,” he waved his hand dismissively, “Press the button on the side.”

It electrified in her palm, and she felt a wave of hot anticipation flow through her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the exquisite etching work. The weight of it felt perfect in her hand.

“It’s to keep you safe,” he half whispered to her.

Her memory drifted back to that first night they met in private quarters for their research instead of the library deck. She shivered recalling the way the other alien had chased her through the stacks, hunting her down like prey. Unarmed and unprepared for his predatory advances, she ran to the only person on board that she could trust.

“Thank you for what you did that night. You didn’t have to open your door, but I’m grateful you did.”