Sunday Snippet: Vice

We're still in the grips of cold and snow. Not a ton of accumulation but the temperatures? Ugh… it's cold. We had a full day of single-digit weather this past week. The local school system had Monday and Tuesday off for the Columbus Day holiday and a staff training day, then had the rest of the week off due to icy roads. Fun times.

Light week in television again. I finished up episode two of the second season of Penny Dreadful. Also watched the season finale of Wynonna Earp. Man… this show. It's so, so good.

Caught another episode of Painkiller Jane and watched an episode of Underbelly Razor. Also caught some Babylon 5 and The Sarah Conner Chronicles.

I'm finally catching up on Arrow and "The Demon" did not disappoint. I wondered what happened to Talia and it's probably good she survived the island. I also watched an episode of Blade the series.

I had some binge marathons of some classic television with The Saint and 77 Sunset Strip. I love both shows and it's nice to have them on in the background when I'm working.

That's about it for television this week. Tonight's post is from Vice, a novella that started with a writing community prompt to write something, anything about sex. I'm down for a challenge like that.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Mercy Flynn and Bishop Hiller, two of Space Station Titania's brightest employees, have many vices, but the biggest one for either? Each other. They have to live and work together and avoiding the temptation to take things into personal territory wears on each, making the thin line of professionalism very blurry.

And a sneaky peek…

Bishop strode into his quarters and secured the lock. "Damn her." Mercy Flynn drove him insane sometimes. "Security agents are supposed to log their whereabouts on station at all times." But she liked to flout the rule whenever possible.

He never had to look hard to find her. The pleasure domes. Her penchant for virtual fantasy living would catch up to her someday. So why haven't you reported her or had her reassigned? Because she got the job done. Always.

When given a choice he'd request Mercy. And it had nothing to do with how attractive he found her. And, damn, she hit every single slot when it came to his vision of a perfect woman. Namely, she isn't too perfect.

Nope, Mercy pushed boundaries and Bishop had a healthy respect for people that didn't follow standard operating procedures all the time. Critical thinking skills could save lives, especially in the field. So, yeah, her off-book use of the pleasure domes would get a hand-wave. A few flaws only added to the allure for him.

Besides, he had secret too. One he didn't exactly want anyone looking into too closely.

Bringing up the information on the delegate, he shook his head. "We'll have our hands full with this guy." Not exactly the ancient balding tram-needing type.

Nope. Delegate Lemig ranked as the youngest elected official from his homeworld. Two years into a six year term, he recently started a tour of the solar system. Unfortunately, not a lot of intelligence existed on Lemig yet.

Bishop sighed. "An unknown entity. Could be super easy to deal with or a huge pain in our ass." Either way, Mercy would roll with whatever Lemig threw their way.

Another reason he loved working with her. She didn't get bent when the client had a full schedule or decided to add stops to their itinerary. She also didn't lose her mind if they only wanted to visit a spa and spend the rest of their time in quarters.

Mercy wore the same lopsided smile either way.

He chuckled. "Even if she's making a sarcastic comment about some of the odd requests the security team received." Like the time a famous galaxy drone athlete asked Mercy to bathe his balls in an ice bath after taking a hit to the groin.

Bishop wished he could've been there when she promised she'd handle it personally. Then she crossed the room and placed an order for delivery. When the attendants arrived, they filled a tub with her requested items and she called the athlete in. She waited until he disrobed then gave him a hard nudge into the frigid water. While he sputtered and gasped from the shocking cold, she calmly listed the clause in his contract about no fraternization or fornication during the playing season. He signed on the dotted line and she wouldn't be responsible for possibly costing him his annual bonus of five million credits.

Chances were anyone else but Mercy would've turned that scenario into a full-blown incident. Or they would've risked censure by taking the athlete up on the veiled attempt for a liaison. Part of the job included protecting their charges from themselves and Mercy took that aspect of the work seriously.

Bishop snorted. "And nothing else, including personal log time." What he wouldn't give to discover what her fantasies were.

Maybe someday. Then again, he'd probably have to reciprocate and, well… not a good idea.

"Because Mercy on her knees in front of me tops the list."

And, damn, now he needed to go take the edge off before he met her for the briefing.

I'm having a lot of fun with this one. Mercy and Bishop are a joy to write.

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye