She Looks At Me Like Food
by Satinette

Missing scene to be tacked on at the end of "Cloud Nine." Mel's POV ramblings about

Cole ... And what happened on Cole's date with Tiffany. A little risqué and suggestive perhaps, but not all that terrible. The title tells it. Hey! Can I help it if the thing just about wrote itself? Some spoilers for both this episode and the Pilot.

I must confess I was having a teeny-tiny bit of a problem trying to adjust to the fact that he actually had a date that evening. He'd just met the woman the previous day, this Tiffany person (tall, blonde, leggy and gorgeous, wouldn't you know!), but I really didn't understand where that stab of jealousy I felt was coming from. I still don't. I mean, why should I care? After all, it isn't as if Cole and I are involved in any man/woman type way or ever would be.

Sure I'd given him my spare room to use for his work, his Tracking stuff, plus three squares a day... And sure I was helping him out, teaching him English and what it is to be Human and all... But all that was in exchange for doing odd jobs and things around the Watchfire, nothing more.

Oh, okay. Maybe I thought tending bar would come in the future.

And it sure is nice to finally have a man around full-time...

Hey! You never know when a female-staffed bar – if he isn't the one tending bar, that is – might need someone male who can step in as a bouncer. Right?

But I'd already told him quite plainly that there wasn't a jumping-the-bones type thing between us. I mean, this is an alien, an ALIEN we're talking about here. You know? Different races or religions is one thing – one can work those things out – but he's not even my species! He's not Human! And real life just doesn't go like Star Trek Voyager's B'Elenna Torres and Tom Paris. Or Deep Space Nine's Odo and...

Well, you get the picture. Deer don't make it with horses. They simply don't.

So, okay. Jess keeps making goo-goo eyes at him and thinks he's hot as hell. But what does she know? She's still young enough to be mesmerized by anything with a Y-chromosome!

Alright. Not just anything. The guy's got to meet at least some of her criteria. And so, okay, Cole's Human form can certainly do that. She thinks he's got a great chest and calls his 'bum' a "work of art" but...

Dammit! Just who do I think I'm kidding here? God help me, she's right! The guy's nothing less than living classical sculpture. Tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered, slim-hipped... Just the right amount of hard, well-defined muscle... Absolutely drop-dead handsome. Utterly amazing hazel-brown eyes. Wow! I mean, I'm not blind or anything. And my hormone levels are perfectly normal, thank you very much. Give him a descent hair-styling and a GQ- fitted wardrobe and he'd outshine People Magazine's 'Sexiest Man of the Year' any and every year! Hell, taken even just the way he is – messy hair, ill-fitting second-hand clothes, no sense of style at all – the women zero in on him. Even some men do, I've noticed.

The other day, for example, he was helping me with a heavy shop at the supermarket and one woman was so oblivious to everything else in the world around her, giving him double, triple and quadruple takes, that she literally fell into the meat case and floundered around atop the ground round. Another became so hypnotized with staring at him that she walked her cart smack into a high pyramid-stack of Progresso soup cans. New England-Style Clam Chowder, yet! He so overwhelmed the cashier with a simple 'good morning' and his usual gentle smile that the poor guy couldn't peel his eyes away from Cole's face, got all bumble-fingered, and neglected to ring up nearly a third of my groceries!

And that was just the supermarket! Never mind what happened later at the library!

The really weird thing about it is that Cole honestly and truly doesn't seem to notice the stir his mere presence can cause, seems to write it all off as Humans being the strange ones. In fact, the two or three times I've seen him unexpectedly confront his own image in a mirror or reflective surface, it actually startled him. Brother!

But for all his hunky appearance he's really an alien, some sort of inhuman creature wearing a made-to-order designer Human suit. For all I know, his real looks might be even more repulsive than an Enixian. And I already know what an Enixian happens to look like. Very major yuck! Besides, haven't I been involved with more than my share of inhuman creatures masquerading as Human men? Believe you me: never again!

Anyway! Jess and I had closed up a few hours early and I was relaxing with a mug of coffee and the latest Dean Koontz novel upstairs in my living room, when I heard footsteps racing up the stairwell. Cole literally came bursting into the apartment, the door slamming back so hard against the wall I thought the plaster had shattered. He just stood there in the hall, completely out of breath like he'd run a marathon or something, panting out "Mel! Mel! Mel!" over and over again, looking downright spooked.

"Cole?" I called out, more than a little alarmed, "I'm right here! What's the matter?"

He actually crept into the living room, slinking nervously along the wall and eyeing me as if I were a rattlesnake sunning itself on a rock! Would you believe it? He'd single-handedly faced down an entire club full of drug-dealing Enixian monsters without so much as a qualm the night before, and now he was slinking! Yes, SLINKING! But I have to say it, I'd never seen him looking such a complete mess before. His hair was wild, like it had never once seen a comb. His shirt was ripped and buttoned all askew. And his left foot was missing both its shoe and its sock. Even his eyebrows were more mussed-up than usual.

"You're back relatively early," I noted as calmly as I could, uncertain of what else to say. "How was the new Lucas film?" He didn't answer, just prowled around the periphery of the living room, all the while watching me so distrustfully that I was becoming very concerned. "Cole? ... Can you tell me what happened? Are you okay? Is everything all right?"

His jaw took on a determined set as he finally turned to face me.

"Mel ... Jess looks at me like food."

"Yes, I know. You've already told me," I patiently reminded him. "We had this conversation yesterday. Remember? I told you..."

"Yes, Mel," he interrupted. "I remember. You told me that she is 'hot for me'. And that 'hot for me' means that she likes me. But..."

"Yes?" I encouraged. "But?"

"Is that ... Is that what it always means?"

"I'm sorry, Cole," I answered, needing more information. "I really don't know what you're asking."

"Mel, do..." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. If that were possible. "...Do Human females eat males?"

"Um..." Clearly he was quite distressed and very much on edge, but it was still enormously difficult to keep a straight face with such a totally bizarre question. "Where did you ever get that idea?"

"Tiffany said she was going to eat me!"

Oh, boy! I had a feeling I knew where this one was going!

"Come here, Cole," I gently coaxed, patting the sofa cushion next to me. "Sit down and tell me what happened."

He shook his head and refused – absolutely and uncategorically refused! – to come a single step nearer than he already was.

"She took me to a room," he said. "In her Beamer. A Beamer is a car, Mel."

"Yes, I know," I sighed, trying to remain patient. "She has a BMW convertible. And she had the top down. I thought you two were going to see a film. You know? The new Lucas sci-fi film?"

"'Sci-fi'?" he echoed. "What is 'sci-fi?'"

"Science fiction," I explained. "Fictionally told science."

"Why?" There it was: his patented 'huh?' look.

I tried to clarify: "They're stories done for entertainment purposes."

"Untruth science told as entertainment stories?" he questioned. "I don't understand."

So much for my attempt at clarification.

"I'll explain another time," I told him. "Better yet, I'll tune you in to shows like the X-Files and the Twilight Zone and the Outer Limits and..." I suddenly stopped my listing of classic sci-fi TV shows, realizing that we were getting way off the subject. "What about the Lucas film?"

"No film, Mel," he said. "It was just a room. Tiffany said we could see a film any time. Is any time the same as some time?"

"Um ... Sometimes. The room?"

"Room?"

I closed my eyes a moment and silently counted to ten. "The room Tiffany took ... brought you to. What kind of room was it?"

"It was just a room," he repeated, then added: "It was small. But it had a very large bed."

As I'd thought.

"Um ... Cole..." I began, trying to figure out how I could best word this.

He took a deep breath and in one big rush uttered the longest uninterrupted string of words I'd ever heard him put together before.

"Tiffany said I was hot and that she was hot for me and then she pushed me down on the bed and climbed on top of me and then she said we were going to make love and then she started tearing at my clothes and tried to get them off – you keep telling me I have to keep my clothes ON, Mel! – and then she said she was going to eat me until I was hard and then she ... Mel! Tiffany bit me! Right here!"

Awww! His very first Dracula-style love-bite. And right to the jugular...

Sure I know I shouldn't have laughed. It really was an unforgivably cruel and insensitive thing for me to have done. But my God! You didn't see the look on his face, like that of a wounded and confused puppy-dog. It was priceless! I began to titter, then giggle, then chuckle. Then the dam just broke and I simply couldn't hold it in anymore and I started to laugh, it quickly escalating up to a full-scale, full-bellied roar. The bigger and rounder his eyes got as he watched me dissolve the harder I laughed and I couldn't for the life of me stop.

And all those great lines from movies and television shows just kept popping into my head:
"I don't bite. I haven't worn a muzzle in years!"
"I don't bite ... Not unless you want me to."
"I don't bite; I nibble
"I don't bite." – "Pity
"Don't worry. I've had my rabies shots."

And, of course, the greatest grand-daddy of them all: "I vant to drink your blooood!"

Oh, my big clueless lummox of a Cirronian! The poor guy had obviously never seen anyone helplessly rolling around on a sofa and clutching their sides in the middle of an hysterically uncontrollable laughing fit. He tried so hard to be helpful but he only made matters worse. He kept asking me if I was angry, or if I was hurt, or if I was upset. And that only made me laugh all the harder, until I was drumming my heels and the tears began streaming down my face. Then – get this! – he kept attempting to reach over to do that Cirronian thing – stroke my throat like he sometimes does – but it was like watching someone trying to pet the head of a crocodile: he didn't want to get his hand too close to my mouth and kept jerking it back before making contact!

By that point I was all but howling, my stomach and sides were aching, I couldn't breathe, my bladder was threatening to loose control, and STILL I couldn't stop! I absolutely had to turn my back on him and jam a corner of a throw-pillow into my mouth to regain some measure of composure. It wasn't long before I began hiccuping and that only made Cole go completely frantic, patting me on the back, asking me what was wrong, repeatedly asking if I wanted a glass of water as I was trying to hold my breath to end the hiccups...

Let me tell you, laughter seriously threatened to uncontrollably irrupt all over again!

"Cole, look, you're badly misinterpreting here," I finally managed to choke out, punctuating every syllable with a hiccup or two. "Tiffany wasn't going to really eat you. Not literally. It was only meant as a love bite. You know? Sex? Foreplay?"

"I'm far from being a child, Mel," he said very quietly. "And I know what sex and foreplay are. I had a mate. And we had a daughter... I also know what love is. And what it isn't."

Instant sobriety. The atmosphere underwent an abrupt sea-change and laughter was no longer even a remote possibility. Even my hiccups ceased. Of course he wasn't a child. And however long ago that Rhee bastard had murdered his family, the wound was still achingly raw and bleeding.

"I know you must have loved them very deeply, Cole. Believe me I do," I hurried to tell him. (I'd badly overstepped and felt very foolish and awkward, but what else could I possibly say?) "It's just, um ... Well, I really don't know how you Cirronians do these things on your world, but here on Earth we Humans tend to mix up sex with love. And vice versa. We even have a term for it. The one Tiffany used? 'Make love'? 'Making love'? I've always hated that term. Can you guess why?"

He quirked a brow as though the answer was so obvious that the question itself was ridiculous.

"Because love cannot be made?"

Multiple wows! He knew! Without any hesitation at all!

"Yes! That's it exactly!" I congratulated him. "Love is an emotion of the heart, the nectar of the soul. You either feel it or you don't. Love can be experienced, it can be expressed, it can be given, it can be shared, but it can never, ever be 'made'. Yet Humans tend to use the phrase 'let's make love' when all they really mean to say is 'let's have sex'. Tiffany just wanted to have sex with you. That's what she meant when she said that you were 'hot', when she said that she was 'hot for you'."

"But why, Mel?" he asked, his brow starting to furrow. "Why would Humans want to have sex without love?"

Suddenly I very badly wanted a drink.

"Because we're a very sexy species," I explained. "Because we're all but obsessed with it. Because we very often can't tell the difference between love and lust. Hell, we've permeated our entire world with love and sex. Look around. Books, movies, television, music, art, poetry, fashion, advertising... Just about everything! It's almost all about our emotional need for love. And our physical need for sex. And if we don't have the emotional, we'll often make do with just the physical. Sometimes it's all any of us will ever really have."

"That's ... That's very sad, Mel," he commented.

Good God! Now I really needed that drink!

"Sad? Oh, yes, Cole," I agreed. "It can be and very often is. And very lonely as well. But it's also something that's been decreed by our anatomy."

"I don't understand, Mel," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, yes, you do!" I insisted. "You understand perfectly. You just don't realize it yet." Cole was watching me so closely that I could almost hear the gears in his brain spinning. But he wasn't getting it. "Think about it a moment," I suggested. "Why don't you like to wear clothes?"

That endearingly familiar look of complete and utter confusion crossed his features.

"I told you, Mel. Clothes feel ... strange."

"Well, of course they do! That's because you've never had skin before. Do you know what skin is, Cole? What it really is?"

"Yes, Mel," he answered, obviously still puzzled. "The largest organ of the Human body."

"Oh, it's way much more than that," I informed him. "It's an organ exquisitely designed for transmitting and especially – very especially – attuned for receiving stimulation, for reveling in a whole world of pure sensation. Flesh has a language all its own. And a mind all its own. And needs all its own. Your body is new and still on sensory overload from the mere feel of air moving across its surface. I would imagine that the textures and restraints of clothing, even its weight, can become near intolerable to bear, just about pushing you over the edge ... Understand now?"

He nodded very slowly, considering. "Yes, Mel. I think I do understand."

"I'm glad."

"And I don't have to worry about becoming food?" he asked, still needing reassurance about that.

I almost broke out laughing again. Almost. But Cole was still much too serious for that.

"Well, the females of some species of insects – like praying mantises – eat their mates," I told him. "So do some spiders. I think. But Humans? No. We Human females don't consider our men to be food."

Eating, as in the wonderful oral pleasures shared between Human lovers, however, was another subject altogether that I wasn't about to broach!

Satisfied, he then reached over and unhesitatingly gave my throat a gentle stroking, his faith and trust fully restored.

"In a number of species throughout the solar systems females ... use their males as food for ... themselves or for their young," he told me. "It's very natural for them, part of ... their normal biology. But I'm very happy Human females ... aren't among them."

Whoa!

"Cole! Are you serious! There are intelligent species out there that..."

"Yes, Mel," he affirmed. "It isn't all that common a ... a mating system, but it's by no means rare. And there are many variations. Girvun and Silestrean females devour their males during ... the very act of mating. Vitcarus females will at least wait ... until the mating is finished, giving their males a ... a few seconds of opportunity to attempt escape. But they don't usually succeed. Drayderian, Borsentian and Nartot females hold their mates trapped within their bodies and ... feed them to their offspring. Lismartar females lay their eggs in..."

Horrified, I clamped my hand over his mouth to shut him up.

"Enough, Cole! Please! I think I get the general idea!"

Brrrr! There are places in the universe where males routinely find themselves on the menu! No wonder he'd been so royally spooked!

"I'd better get back to work now," he said. "I have much to do."

Giving my throat a final leisurely stroke that sent unexpectedly warm shivers clear down to the very tips of my toes, he headed for his room.

I felt wonderful, felt I'd really managed to handle the entire incident quite well. Some of my thoughts might have tended to the raunchy perhaps, but all in all I congratulated myself on steering what could have been an embarrassingly graphic subject to the almost tasteful. And informative. Mustn't forget informative. Cole now understood Humans a little better. And I now understood him a little better.

"Mel?" Cole questioned as he returned to the living room. "What did Tiffany mean about me getting hard?"