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clearly already availed himself of the shower, as his hair was
still wet, and he’d changed into a pair of loose plaid flannel drawstring
pants. Lena had to remind herself not to stare at the tempting patch of taut
skin below his bellybutton, the dark trail of hair arrowing down into the
waistband, the lean crevices in front of each hip. He was in good shape. Most
people were these days. Nobody wanted to be the slowest person in the bunch.
The slowest person was the most likely to get eaten.
    She brushed her teeth and showered quickly, throwing on a
tank top and boxer shorts to rejoin Nye in what she automatically thought of as
the living room. He was on the couch, feet resting on the table, one hand
cocked behind his head while the other held a remote control.
    “They thought of everything,” Lena said softly, and Nye
craned his neck to watch as she approached the couch and sat down, not too
close to him. Giving him space if he wanted it.
    “It’s pretty sweet,” he agreed. He pitched the remote onto
the table in a gentle lob and it clattered a little as it landed. “I should’ve
been more of a diva, I could have been living the high life down here in the
basement all along, I guess. Do you want to know what I realized while you were
in the shower?”
    Lena nodded, then giggled nervously as Nye turned her by the
hand, tugging until she was sitting in his lap.
    “I realized,” he said, reaching up to run his fingers
through her hair and pivoting her head to face him, “that I was spending way
too much time looking at a bunch of slides I’ve seen eight million times
before, looking for a cure I’m never going to find, when I could be focusing on
at least leaving some kind of mark on the world. Maybe the only kind I can make now. So for the time I have left, I think we should spend less time
messing around in the lab and more time messing around in here. How do you feel
about that?”
    Lena’s heart thumped so hard she thought it must be audible
to Nye. “Are you talking about a baby?”
    Nye tightened his grip on her hair, so Lena couldn’t look
away if she’d wanted to. His eyes looked almost emerald, an unearthly green,
and she felt as if he were seeing straight through her skin to her bones.
    “I’m saying,” he explained, “that I want to get you
pregnant. I don’t have a lot of time to do it, but I think it’s worth a try.
It’s a hell of a lot more likely than my finding a cure in the next three
weeks.”
    “It could be as many as five,” she said automatically. Not
that five more weeks was enough. Lena was beginning to suspect that no amount
of time would be enough with Nye. But she would take as much time as she could
get.
    “It could be as few as two. We have no way to know that. It
could be another ten years, and we both know I still wouldn’t find anything.
But I’d like to know that at least a little part of me will live on in the
genetic code of the human race.”
    “That’s…not all that romantic,” Lena hinted. She was already
here, willing to sleep with him in the name of pleasure. If he wanted to go
this route instead, demand this emotional involvement, he was going to have to
do at least a little bit of work.
    “I jerked off into a cup for the team already,” Nye told
her. “I know in theory they have my sperm and will attempt to impregnate as
many volunteers as possible with it. That wasn’t very romantic, I’ll be
the first to admit.”
    He let go of her hair. Lena missed the contact but was
appeased when he shifted her to straddle his lap instead, then brought both his
hands up to frame her face and direct her gaze toward his again. Lena felt him
growing hard and couldn’t resist working her hips closer to press against him.
Nye’s control was admirable; he didn’t bat an eye, though his cock twitched and
swelled even more at the stimulation.
    “This is different though,” he continued. “This is making
love to a specific person. To you . With the specific