Chapter Text
The late afternoon sun shone down on Jenny’s barely covered skin as she lounged by the local pool, feeling the steadily cooling sun still warming her skin. It was blissful, sat here, relaxing. All her problems, at work, at home, at love, felt so far away as she sat here. The entrance fee for this pool was so low for the amount of relaxation it offered, honestly.
It was a busy day. She’d been working to the bone and had taken her first opportunity on her day off to come here, which just so happened to be a bank holiday. The pool was filled with all sorts of people, she’d tried swimming before, but she could barely find space in the water, between the teenagers trying to drown each other, young couples swimming together, and children playing loudly, squealing with such laughter and joy that Jenny felt the ever familiar pang in her heart at the sound of them. One day, but not today.
She felt a sudden shift in the mood of the pool, and looked up from the book she’d been reading to see where all the heads had suddenly turned, why all the voices of adults had seemed to quieten down, and in the direction they were faced, she saw it. Saw him.
Green skin, a flat nose, ginger hair so flecked with white it was nearly an even split of both colours. The large, black, emotionless eyes didn’t flit to her, but instead seemed trained on the pool, as the alien dove into the water as Jenny stood to her feet. It couldn’t be… could it?
How many aliens could there even be on this planet?
Jenny returned to her seat, desperately trying to not stare while finding herself unable to drag her eyes away from him. It must have been five years since she’d last seen Paul, she’d not even heard a lick of news about him. The case had been kept very hush hush, and after she’d given her testimony, she hadn’t heard much more. Other than Chip had taken early retirement very shortly after its conclusion (to her brothers’ delight that their schoolyard bully’s Dad had been fired by her actions), and Craven had been arrested, to the cheers of everyone at Strangetown hospital.
Eventually, the alien pulled himself out of the pool, and Jenny was in two minds about going to say hi. For one, what if it wasn’t Paul, just another alien, and she was rudely assuming it just had to be the alien she already knew? Shouldn’t he have returned to Sixam by now, too? Even worse, what if it was Paul, and he didn’t want to see her again? After all she’d done, all she’d helped the doctors do… it would hardly be a surprise that with time, distance and healing, Paul had realised just how awful her role had been. She wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see her again.
But the alien had moved over to where his stuff was kept on one of the deck chairs, pulling out a towel to dry himself off, and Jenny could see the very noticeable, pale green scar, running from his sternum to his hips. It could only be one person, and she’d hate it if she didn’t at least try to say hello to him after all this time.
Mustering her courage, she stood up from her deck chair, making her way over to where Paul was now drying off his hair, watching the children playing in the pool without blinking, and she gently cleared her throat once she neared, and he turned to look at her.
“Um, excuse me,” she started, and for a moment, Paul didn’t react. He just stared at her with that same old blank expression. And then… And then, a bright green glow emanated from his skin, followed by a smile cracking across his face, a faked smile, but that glow couldn’t be faked. Paul leapt to his feet at the sight of her.
“Jenny!” He exclaimed, as mangled as ever, reaching out his arms towards her, before stopping, seeming to reconsider something. The voice that came out of his lips next surprised her more than anything. “Ah, I do not know the Sim custom for this greeting. Do we ‘shake hands’? Do we ‘hug’? Do we ‘fist bump’? That is a new one I have recently learned.”
He didn’t sound like how he did before. The words were spaced out, spoken very loudly, and with a strange, bizarre accent that lilted and lifted at odd points. It took her a moment to realise that, for once, she wasn’t hearing Paul speak through the translator. He was just speaking as himself, face to face with her, in stilted simlish.
His voice was beautiful, in a strange, unnerving sort of way.
“A hug or a wave both work,” Jenny assured him, and Paul wrapped her up in a hug, which was not sim-like at all. He wasn’t relaxed in it, but stiff, and while Jenny could feel his joy rushing through the touch, she could almost swear she could hear him counting out the correct number of seconds to hold the hug, before he broke it off.
“How are you?” He asked, pulling her to sit down on his deck chair with him. “You look well. Are you well?”
“Yes, yes I’m well. How are you?” She asked in return.
“I am well too. It is good to be well,” Paul agreed, nodding vigorously. Jenny fought back a laugh, but there was something almost comical about his enthusiasm. As if realising it too, Paul continued. “I am learning how to behave like a Sim. You have very strange ways, all this smiling and tone of voice and facial expressions, but I am doing well.”
“You really are,” Jenny agreed, even though there was something very uncanny about all of his behaviour, she knew he was harmless. Funny, but harmless. “Do you still go by Paul, or is there another name to use for you?”
“Paul is fine. ‘Paul Smith’ in full. Sims must really love names, they have not one, but two! Two! Imagine!” Paul exclaimed, and while a few sims nearby turned to give him a weird look, Jenny burst out laughing.
“Some cultures on our planet only have one. Some have even more than two.”
“Really? What a fascinating planet,” Paul said wistfully, and Jenny laughed again, although it reminded her of a question she wanted to ask.
“So, what are you doing here? I thought Eloise was going to try and get you home,” Jenny asked. The smile quickly dropped from Paul’s face.
“I am home. Or, well, my home is a short walk that way,” he pointed down the street outside the pool. “101 Road to Nowhere. It is very run down and needs a lot of work to make it look nice, but I have plenty of time. I do not mind.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Jenny said sincerely. After a moment of silence, Paul’s eyes darted away from hers.
“I cannot return to Sixam. Your planet’s spaceships do not have wormhole generators; if I was to try to return to Sixam in one of those, I would be long dead before I ever arrived.”
“What about your old spaceship?” Jenny asked. If Paul’s ship managed to travel all that distance, surely it could return too?
“It is impossible, the ship is too damaged. I am trained to maintain, not to build from scratch. I cannot return to Sixam no matter how much I want to,” Paul’s tone was even, unwavering, but Jenny could feel through his light touch of her hand just how much dread that thought brought him. He was stranded here, so many lightyears from his home planet, and he’d never get home. Never return to his family, his friends. She couldn’t even imagine the pain that must bring him. “But it is fine. I can be happy here. Many Sims are happy here, so I will be too. Jenny, how have you been?” He asked, brightening up a little. “Have you got a husband and wife and two and a half children? How do Sims have half children anyway?”
Jenny chortled, but she couldn’t disguise the pain she felt at the mention of starting a family. How she wished she had. How she longed for one… “Not yet, but not for lack of trying. I just broke up with a long term boyfriend last month. We had very different ideas of what we wanted in life.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” Paul stated, although he didn’t sound sorry. He didn’t seem to feel particularly sorry either, but she couldn’t fault him that. “He is missing out on a wonderful person.”
Jenny smiled, but she couldn’t force herself to make it genuine. Three years they’d been dating. Three years he’d been dancing around the subject of starting a family. Three years of non-commital answers regarding marriage and kids. Until she’d finally forced him to sit down and talk about it. Three years of thinking she was going to start a family with this man, the supposed ‘man of her dreams’, only to find out he hated the idea of having kids so much he’d got a vasectomy five years ago. She’d broken up with him on the spot, and his repeated attempts to convince her to take him back, that he loved her, that they could be happy together without children, had only been met with the door to her parent’s house slammed in his face. Three years wasted with that man, and now she was back to where she was before, older and wiser, and further from motherhood than she’d ever been before.
“Thanks, Paul. I’ve missed chatting to you about this sort of nonsense stuff.”
And she had, too. Late at night, when she’d been crying in her room, trying to not let Lazlo hear her, she’d thought back on her endless chattering with Paul, both in Division 47 and in the hospital. She had other friends her age, of course, but they all had their own lives to deal with, and she had sorely missed the idea of being able to chat with someone who, whether or not he understood her, would listen and care about her feelings.
“Other than a terrible boyfriend, how have you been? Working hard?”
“I’m still working as a nurse. At the hospital, that is, not with the military,” Jenny quickly added when she felt the lick of fear passing through Paul. “It’s the funniest thing. I spent ages trying to get a job with them when I left nursing school, but it wasn’t until after I was arrested that they finally offered me an interview.”
“They saw you were the best nurse and could not do without you a moment longer,” Paul agreed, and Jenny shook her head.
“It was San. Dr Dragan. After I was released, he went to the hospital leads and demanded they offer me a job. Said he needed a nurse who was willing to deal with supernatural beings to help him with emergencies that came in. I hadn’t planned on becoming an emergency room nurse, but with his glowing review, I couldn’t say no.”
It had been awkward, at first. Most of her colleagues assumed she must be supernatural too, if she was willing to treat them, so it took them all a long while to warm up to her. But now, everyone saw her as part of the fixtures and fittings.
“How is Dr Dragan?” Paul asked, “I have not seen him or Ms Foster for years.”
“Neither have I. They moved away together some years ago, to Isla Paradiso, I think? Eloise’s law practice wanted to open a branch there and Dragan followed her. I hope they’re doing well. I left the emergency room shortly after he left, too. I’m a paediatrics nurse, now.”
“A…” Paul paused, slowly trying to repeat the word Jenny had said. “Paediatrics? Nurse?”
“Yes, a nurse who cares for children. Turns out treating aliens and treating screaming children isn’t all that different,” Jenny joked, and although Paul didn’t smile, he also wasn’t offended. Maybe he just didn’t realise it was meant to be a joke.
“Those children are very lucky to have you as a nurse. I know that from experience,” Paul agreed. Two children ran past them, screaming their heads off mid-play, while a harassed looking parent screamed at them to stop running by the pool. Jenny felt that familiar pang of envy watching them and let go of Paul’s hand so he wouldn’t pick up on it, but she couldn’t help but notice him watching too. “Sim children are so fascinating, are they not? I could watch them for hours, but I am told that is unsettling.”
“You like kids, don’t you?” Jenny asked, thinking back to Paul’s insistence that she donate that money to a children’s charity. She had done, too. Every single simoleon, all completely anonymously, to a small charity that would need it most. She remembered watching from afar how flustered and grateful the volunteers at the local children’s grief services had been for the money. They’d bought a new bus to take kids on day trips for. It had felt wonderful to see, she wished Paul could have seen it too.
“I am a ‘family man’ as they say, yes. Had my government on Sixam not forced me to work in the spaceship, I would have liked a large family,” Paul explained, watching the children with a wistful gaze. “I miss my home planet, but I do not miss the government there. It is very free, here. I can do as I like.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Jenny said sincerely, while the speakers at the pool blared to life, declaring the time. With a curse, Jenny stood to her feet. “Sorry, Paul, that’s my time up. I hope I can see you around again, come speak to me if you see me, okay?”
She turned and headed back to her deckchair to pack away her things, only to be interrupted by Paul loudly shouting, “Wait!” She stopped, turning to face him. As had numerous other people. Paul froze under her gaze, and a bright yellow glow came over him, something Jenny hadn’t seen in so long. So he was so embarrassed, he couldn’t even hide it… What was he embarrassed for? All the staring? “Um, I… um…”
“Are you okay?” Jenny asked, stepping back closer to him. Paul only seemed to glow more strongly.
“Ah, yes. Yes. Um. Jenny, do you… um… do you… like… food?” He asked.
“Um, yeah,” Jenny said, slightly baffled. “Yeah, I like food.”
“Oh! Good. Good. Me too. Yes,” Paul chattered. Jenny gave a nervous laugh, and Paul only seemed to glow more intensely. People were really staring now, and Jenny couldn’t help the blush rising to her face. “Um. Would you… like to go get some food?” Paul asked, then added after a moment. “Together?”
“You mean,” Jenny asked, feeling the blush rise even further. “Like… a date?”
Between Paul’s loud voice, his bright glowing, and his alien appearance, and her bright red face, they were the centre of attention at the pool. It felt like every pair of eyes was trained on them.
“Does not have to be!” Paul said quickly, even louder. “It can not be a date! It can be just food! Two adults getting food! Yes!”
What a concept. Five years ago, when she first met Paul, the idea of ever having this conversation was beyond belief. Being asked out on a date by her alien patient. But Paul wasn’t her patient anymore, he hadn’t been in a long time, he was just a friend. A friend she felt she could talk to openly. A friend who made her laugh and smile when she’d spent the past month mostly crying or distracting herself from crying. A friend who shared her same passion for family, a friend who had the same priorities as her.
Perhaps accepting that job was the best thing she’d ever done in her life.
“Okay,” she agreed, cracking a smile across her face, which was burning hot with embarrassment. “Sure. Let’s go get some food sometime, Paul. It’s a date.”
And the rest, they say, is history.