Valeria by Kaitlin R. Branch

distracted.
    Occasionally he watched Valeria work, marveling at the way her split hand moved with no less than four tiny screw drivers, the way her hair draped as she leaned over a tiny operation with her golden eye, patch flipped up. His favorite, though, were the days when she worked mostly on paper, and put on the glasses with many magnifications. When she looked up at him on those days, her golden eye and blue eye were thrown into relief against each other and she seemed particularly beautiful.
    She chanced to look up, and saw him watching. She smiled. “I see you.” she said.
    “Caught me,” he replied, smiling and coming into the lab. She stood up, holding out her arms and he caught her up into a kiss. As he held her, she nuzzled into his shoulder, humming. “You okay?” he asked as she yawned.
    “Fine.” she said, nodding. “My stomach was upset this morning.”
    “Hmm, I’m fine,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “My fault. I must not have washed the lettuce enough.”
    “Maybe,” she said. “I’ve still got to fix this prototype so the CEO can take it back to the ground the next time she comes.”
    “When is that supposed to be?” he asked.
    “Next week sometime,” she said, not letting go of Mache.
    He made a mental note to supplement his supplies and pack everything away. At least now that he slept with Valeria nightly they didn’t have to worry about changing the guest room sheets. Kissing her cheek, he rubbed her back. “All right. I’ll let you get back to work.”
    She sighed, lazily kissing his neck. There was faint plink as something dropped to the ground and bounced a few times.
    Mache looked down and chuckled. “Butter fingers,” he said, and knelt to pick up the small metal ring which had dropped out of Valeria’s hands.
    “It’s an extra piece I was able to parse off,” Valeria said as he held it up to her. “I was keeping it on my finger until I could put it with the scraps.”
    “Were you?” he asked, taking her hand. He smiled and slipped the gold onto the finger it looked best to fit. “Hm. Maybe you should keep it there.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked, perplexed, as she studied the wire he’d put onto her ring finger. “It might get in the way.”
    He stood, laughing and kissing her. “If you keep it there,” he said, “You’d be my wife.”
    She started and looked up at him with her lips slightly apart. “I would?” she asked. “Truly?”
    “Some people would insist we get the preacher involved,” Mache said. “I like to think as long as we’re both willing to promise, it’s fair enough. We can get the preacher later.”
    “You promise?” She pressed, eyes wide. “You promise to be my husband?”
    “I do.” he said with a contented smile. Part of him clamored that this was a dumb idea, and it whispered that the airfoil in the hanger was ripe to be stolen and flown away any time, for the sake of his very life. But the way Valeria smiled at him, her hand shaking with emotion in his, the gleam of the golden wire on her finger wiped away the fear. This was what he wanted. He would not run away. “Forever and more. Do you?”
    “I do,” she whispered, eyes widening as she grabbed his hands. “I do. Forever and more. Oh, Mache.” She kissed him. “I’ll make better rings,” she whispered. “I know exactly the thing.”
    He chuckled. “Sure,” he said. “I guess the wire might catch.”
    “I’m going to melt it into the rest of the ring,” she said, kissing his cheek. “The first ring will always be there.”
    He wound his arms around her waist, kissing her soundly. “Later,” he said, lifting her from her feet and making a beeline to their room. “Right now I think we should have a brief honeymoon.”
    * * * *
    She was secretive for several days and when Mache peeked in on her she shooed him away. “You might see them,” she said, “and I’m not done yet.”
    With a knowing smile, he always sank back. When he asked at