"'Scuse me, sir; would you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?"

Fuck.

Turning around with a sigh, my lips already parted, I tug my jacket a little tighter against the cold and steel myself for brushing off another pesky servant of the faith. Probably just another fresh-faced, impossibly clean-cut kid from Utah hanging around outside my building, or -

Fuck.

There before me stands... a nun. I think she's a nun, at least - my childhood recollections of The Sound of Music don't include vividly dappled orange-and-brown skin, with twisting antlers curving up from foreheads and slitted eyes above a pair of smiling blue lips.

"I'm an atheiuuuuuh..."

I blink, deciding discretion is the better part of valor as my mouth stubbornly refuses to shut itself. She's clearly inhuman, but all too human for my blood to pulse a little faster - beneath the thick black cloth and chaste white collar at her throat swoop mouthwatering curves, from the alarming press of her chest against her habit and the - those things are not supposed to be that form-fitting, I think in a haze, but my mind races on - the... the...

Somehow, my brain refuses to let my words flow, and the sight and sound and scent of her fills my head and brings life to my loins.

"See?" she asks, and her voice is almost musical, this time. "I feel it too, trust me - I mean, I grew up in Kansas, but my parents, when they landed with the first refugee ships... you guys really..."

A faint flush of blue colors her cheeks adorably.

"... well, humans really turn us on," she admits, the picture of meekness. "Isn't that wonderful? A true gift, wouldn't you say?"

"... yeah ..."

My voice sounds a little punch-drunk, even to me, and I seem a lot closer to her than I was before...

"I mean, thousands of light-years away, and somehow," she continues with a little grin, "our two kinds manage to be not only very compatible in that most intimate and sacred of ways, but appealing."

Those weirdly swirling eyes bat closed, then open, and for some funny reason, I can feel her breath against my lips...

"Isn't that," she breathes, grinning up at me unashamed, "proof of His glory?"

She tastes like strawberries and sweat, an alien note in there that only drives me a little closer to the brink of forgetting about my errand entirely. Maybe I could stand to think on that, part of me wonders, but the other parts of me have already guided my hands to her hips, and somehow, the distance to my door seems to be narrowing.

"Maybe we ought to contemplate that," I grin at last, knowing she can feel it, now, the kiss leaving her unsteady on her feet. My door clicks open, and I beckon her inside.

"Time to worship?"

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