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I elbow him in the ribs. "No. But just because I haven't doesn't mean it doesn't happen to people every day."
River scratches his chin. "I guess that's true."
I lean my head against his shoulder for a moment. River's much taller than almost everyone else here, so the crowd just mills around us as we drift. He plants a kiss on the crown of my head and I smile.
I love the feeling of drifting around with River, lackadaisically examining weird UFO equipment and countless booths of freeze-dried astronaut food. It's like we are in a bubble, floating here and there, unbothered by the rest of the world.
"Can I tell you a secret?" River asks after a while. "You have to promise not to tell a soul."
My heart rate kicks up a notch. Swallowing I nod. "You can tell me anything, River."
His smile doesn't waver, though some of the light leaves his eyes. He takes a moment to compose his thoughts. The moment builds.
Is he... is he going to tell me he loves me?
It's a silly thought, a fantasy. And yet, I find a teeny tiny part of myself longing for it to be true. It’s a dream: having a man like River, a man who is so vibrant and interesting and worldly, claim to love a diner waitress like me. And yet, it persists.
Damn, am I having feelings with a capital F for River? What a fantastically, spectacularly bad idea.
"I used to watch Star Trek when I was in middle school," River says.
I am yanked from my thoughts. "Uhh... what?"
He holds up a hand, shaking his head. "I know. It doesn't really sound like me. But I really liked all the drama. Plus, they always had the coolest outfits."
I squint. "The uniforms that the crew wore?"
"Yep. I had dreams that I would meet a girl in a Lycra space outfit like that and we would run away together." He pauses, thoughtful. "I was going through a lot of puberty right then."
I laugh. "I'm sure if you look around, you'll see at least one sexy girl in a space suit at this convention."
River nuzzles my shoulder. "I think I'm all set for sexy girls. Though if you wore one of those Lycra leotards, I would not say no to that under any circumstances."
I playfully shove his arm. "Dream on."
"I will." He winks. "Don't think that I'm not storing away memories of exactly how you sound and taste every time we have sex. I'm preparing for the future."
That thought makes me sad for some reason. I look away, scanning the booths. "Hey, look!" I point. "UFO burgers. I'm starving."
We get two alien-themed burgers, which are encased in bread formed to look like a flying saucer. We follow that up with out-of-this-world milkshakes, which are just vanilla with little space themed chocolate candies in them.
We sit down at the packed food court and chow down. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I take my first bite. Then the beefy, cheesy goodness zings my tastebuds. "Ohmigod," I say, chewing slowly. "It's so good."
"It's definitely hot, at least." He goes for his milkshake and takes long pulls through his straw. "So there are panels tonight, I think. And a costume party."
I wolf down half the burger, nodding. "I saw. I think I'm okay on that. I don't really want to listen to people tell me about how I should feel. That's not what UFOs are about to me. Besides, I didn't even bring a costume."
He shrugs. "We can always cobble together costumes from things we find here."
"Nah." I sip my milkshake, which is delightfully creamy. "I'm having a ball just wandering around with you. Thanks for planning this, River."
"Anything that pleases you is all right by me. I may not believe in this stuff, but it's fun to see all the wild things that people are selling."
He stops for a second and a drop of milkshake lands on his lower lip. Without thinking about it, I lean forward, smudging my thumb across his lips. River catches my hand and yanks me closer, sinking a hand in my hair and kissing me so thoroughly that I swear hearts and stars explode like fireworks in my mind.
My heartbeat speeds up. My body craves his kisses, and I can't stand the thought that one day soon, I will be pregnant... but I won't have River here to kiss anymore.
Oh. Oh no.
