The wind outside whipped and crashed against the outpost`s walls, clawing at every surface like the cold fingers of the undead baying for the blood of those inside. The will of the moon doing everything within its power to reach them and suck away any and all life-sustaining warmth the defiant offered Samuel and his new large companion.

　　Samuel grumbled and gradually awoke from his most blissful slumber in years. His furred companion`s arm was still draped over his shoulder, offering him more warmth than any blanket. She held his back against her plush, fat body, one of her massive breasts halfway engulfing his head.

　　Her gentle snoring filled the air, sounding like a distant chainsaw revving every few moments. If Samuel was not someone who snored regularly, he would have certainly been kept awake by it. But instead, her gentle reverberations were somewhat comforting, reminding him of driving in a car on an old gravel road.

　　She failed to notice him initially stirring, and It was a bit of a struggle for him to get out of bed. But after nearly half a minute of contorting himself, pushing against her hefty arm, and finding the will to leave the warmth of her embrace, he finally did. Thankfully, she was a fairly heavy sleeper.

　　 The moment he was out from under her arms, she rolled onto her back and sprawled out, filling nearly the king-sized bed with her soft, overflowing fur. Samuel paused momentarily, letting everything that happened last night catch up to him. Seeing her blissfully in his bed caused a knot of guilt to tie in his gut.

　　"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "I should not have done that."

　　Samuel quietly went to his closet and pulled out one of the blue jumpsuits the GU had provided him for this assignment. Slipping it on, he exited the room as quickly as he could, not wanting to disturb her but also wanting some alone time to process the vortex of emotions in his mind.

　　He fucked an alien— no, he got seduced by an alien and folded in nearly an instant. That was unbelievable.

　　Samuel was slow as he donned the suit he needed to wear outside, especially when a storm was going on. He lit his cigar and stepped out into the chilly morning. The snow was thick and coming down heavily, nearly white out. It was not as horrible as what he arrived in, but it was still bad. He made a mental note to check the weather when he made it back inside; hopefully, this storm would be over sometime today.

　　While he was atop the outpost, burning away the building snow, his mind was wracked with thoughts he had to process. What he was doing was hardly even amidst them; busy work like clearing the snow was nothing, especially with the flamethrower in hand—He could likely do it while sleeping.

　　He should not have done that; last night was wrong, he knew so in his mind—yet felt so right. Why in all the universe did he have sex with her? No matter what he did when he was on Earth, he had never done that since his wife died almost six Earth years ago. Even the women his family and friends tried to get him to go out with never did anything for him.

　　 They were pretty, kind, and fun enough to hang out with and occasionally have beer. But they did not light a fire in him and certainly never made him want to have sex. As he saw it, that part of him died along with his wife.

　　Why was an alien of all things different?

　　By the time he cleared the snow off the secondary buildings` roofs, his mind wandered more. Running through everything that happened, desperately trying to find something that he could use to logic this away.

　　Pheromones? His own frustrations? Resonance sound? His idle mind grasped at anything that might explain why he quickly folded. He even tried to justify that she got to him because he slammed back a solid eight beers. But he did that almost every day; there is no way that could be it.

　　He could not find any reason that made any sense. He kept returning to the answer that he just wanted to, but could not figure out why. In post, he could try and say it was because his mind kept wandering to how the Verintol woman had his body and mind doing backflips on the bed. How she did half of what she did last night was beyond him. But that was still not right.

　　Through most of it, his mind was in some insane fog. She drove him beyond anything he had ever known. A small part of him liked all of it, even if everything he had ever known told him he should not. He had always been raised to be a one type of woman guy; was age or time changing that about him? What would his wife think of him if she learned that after he died, the first thing he did was hook up with some alien?

　　He felt somewhat angry at himself for enjoying every moment. She even had him enjoying her tongue writhing in his mouth. The fact he could not logic that away was equally frustrating and erotic.

　　After cleaning the snow off the roofs and returning to the winter room, Samuel only managed to reason that he could not allow that to happen again. He was here to do a job, be forgotten, and be left alone. Whenever he got the translator fixed, all he had to do was apologize for having sex with her and send her away—hopefully forever.

　　At least if he apologized, he would feel less like he essentially used her for a one-night stand. He could not allow that to happen again. Making connections was the last thing he had to do out here.

　　Once he was back inside the main building with his kit put back away. He wandered over to the shelves and grabbed the fragments of the broken translator. Getting this thing fixed could clear all of this up and hopefully put an end to everything that was confusing him. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

　　On the way to his workbench, he paused and listened carefully. He could still hear her snoring in his bedroom. At least that meant he could have time to work on this issue. She likely would want breakfast whenever she awoke; a large woman like her could undoubtedly eat. He paused and begrudged himself. Why is he thinking like that? She invaded his home, and he was just letting her stay until the storm passed. Her well-being should not be his concern.

　　Was he falling into some old habit of caring for people in his home? No, it wasn`t that, it wasn`t the same. When his kids were over at the house on Earth, he just gave them access to his food, and they would feed themselves. Her—he wanted to make food for her.

　　 Samuel enjoyed enjoying that sense of wonder she had about the simple bits of food he could provide. She looked like that cheap beer and MRE(Meal Ready to Eat) from yesterday were the most delicious things she had ever had. Seeing her smiling and happily eating made him feel oddly fulfilled, and had a butterfly going off in his chest.

　　Samuel settled into the chair at his workstation and pulled up the translator`s information on his datapad. At least the GU was kind enough to provide him with that much. Now, he would not have to essentially start from the ground up and reverse engineer this broken hunk of junk. With this, he could repair and modify it, making it capable of withstanding the true rigors it would face, namely her massive hands and unbelievable strength.

　　At least having a job did something to help him clear his head; coupled with the coffee he had made, all of those errant thoughts about last night`s transgressions faded into the background. Both worked for different reasons, but they worked.

　　Coffee because it was the start of a new day in his mind. It had been that way for decades. Every Morning started with a hot cup of mud, no sugar, no cream. The bitter flavor and sharp scent welcomed him every morning. It was like a friend always waiting for you at home and was one thing he could not live without.

　　Whereas the translator was a semi-decent project for him to handle. The storm would be here at least until tomorrow, so time was no issue. That and the device was well enough complicated to let him stretch his mental legs. Having a healthy amount of diagrams and instructions to read was marvelous. Their cold calculation, formatting, and cleanly designed schematics were perfect. They quickly let him do what his job as an engineer was to fix problems.

　　Samuel could easily do what he had done for years after his wife`s departure: take his emotions, bury them deep in the back of his mind, and let cold, simple calculations come to the forefront to keep himself from wandering to places he was better off avoiding.

　　He was well aware it was not the healthiest coping mechanism. His kids had told him as much for years. Even his wife did when his own parents died. But it worked, and he was on the far side of the galaxy from anyone who could tell him otherwise. It wasn`t like the Varintol woman would harp on him about opening up; she could not understand him anyway.

　　Samuel lit another cigar, activated the air cleanser, and started to get to work. The air cleanser did an excellent job keeping his cigar smoke from setting off any alarms. While it was intended to keep smoke from soldering from doing so, it worked just fine for his alternative purpose.

　　He managed to get all the broken shielding off the translator and had the fragments laid out roughly in their proper shape. He took his time walking through each part, ensuring he had not missed a piece. He had been thorough in his cleanup and had all the parts.

　　 When Samuel heard whatever her name was stirring, he ignored it at first, trying to focus on analyzing the fragments of the green circuit board and oh-so-precious electrical components. He was glad most of the resistors, transistors, and other microchips were mostly undamaged; The few that were, he would have to cannibalize some of them from around the outpost, but he was confident he could spare a few to get this thing working again.

　　Trying to ignore her only worked for so long. Samuel had just started listing the components he would have to find elsewhere when she lumbered into his workshop. Well, lumbered was not the right word. Just like all the other doors in the outpost, her entering the room was clearly a struggle, from her ducking to half height to her trying to force her stomach, hips, and breasts through the comparatively diminutive door was difficult—Nothing here was built for someone that large.

　　By the time she popped through the door and nearly barreled into a shelving unit, Samuel had put down his work and turned his full attention to her. Once inside, she was crouched slightly, keeping her head from slamming into the ceiling. If Samuel could give her any credit other than what she did to him in the bedroom, she was clearly intelligent and learned quickly.

　　Thankfully, she had dressed in her clothes before searching the outpost for him. Even if her clothes did next to nothing to conceal anything. Samuel added that to the ideas he possibly might do; if she was stuck here until the storm passed, he could at least look around to see if there was something she could wear that would be less revealing—at the bare minimum, so he could not feel this odd enjoyment of seeing her like that.

　　She said a few words in her odd language and ran her massive hand over her stomach. Another point to her: she was far better at pantomime and communicating without words than he was.

　　"Yeah, I can get you some food," Samuel said while he stood.

　　He tossed his notebook on the table and walked past her to the storage rooms with the Varintol woman close behind. Her steps were quiet, shockingly quiet. But from how graceful she moved around yesterday when she first arrived, her initial entry excluded; he should not be shocked.

　　"Wait here," Samuel instructed as they passed the main room. She happily sat back on the broken sofa and waited for him to return.

　　When he returned, she was gently pocking and prodigy at the electric water pot he had used yesterday. By the way, she was trying to find buttons and carefully looking at the kettle versus its stand; she clearly wanted to understand it.

　　The sight made Samuel almost chuckle. Almost forty years ago, he likely did the same thing. He had always been the kid to ask why and how. Wanting to know what made things work and how to fix them. That was the whole reason he became an engineer.

　　After filling it with water, he walked over and quickly showed her how to work the pot. He then handed her two MREs (Meal Ready to Eat) and let her loose. Some of him was curious to see if she remembered how the freeze-dried meals would be eaten.

　　She took both of them, smiled, and muttered a few more words. Before she quickly unpacked them and started to fill them with water. Samuel smiled and told her he would be back. Even if she could not understand the words, his gestures for her to wait while he walked off were simple enough, and she clearly understood.

　　Samuel left her there to eat. She would be fine for a few minutes. He had to use the long-range radio and quickly call base. He needed some advice on what to do with her. While he wanted to just send her off, for all he knew, doing so could cost him his job. He just hoped that his boss on the far side of the solar system would agree to his plan.