Spellbound (September 2021)
ZAFFRE
Spellbound was a luxurious Earth Parisian-inspired restaurant somewhere near spitting distance of the Golden Chalice. It was lit by candelabras shining over the white marble. It was one of those places where bored and ugly rich people came to show off their arm candy and spend a lot of money on small portions, we’re talking you don’t ask how much or the waiter will say you can’t afford it. And then they go to the Chalice to spend even more money.
The blue-haired Companion Queen sat at a table for two, nails clicking on a holo-tablet set next to a glass of the reddest wine and a plate full of succulent grapes and cheese, trying to tune out the piano player warbling some silly love song to her. She clearly had no interest. Nothing was more of a turn-off than some guy’s tentacle arms flailing over the piano keys.
The woman belonged here. She was bedecked in sapphires on her fingers, throat, wrists and ears. She carried about her a peculiar scent, rousing and intoxicating, as is the way of the Sorashi. Of course it meant unwanted attention. Simping fellas approached and begged for invitation to be her special guest for the evening, but they were all graciously declined. A hand swept over her Companion’s pin, a way of saying ‘Fool, I’m busy’ without telling. This gesture didn’t often work.
Zaffre swept back her perfect, voluptuous blue curls and stared ahead in a way that can be described as one tired of waiting. She checked the glittering watch at her wrist, projecting a holographic number with a small push of a button. The Companion slammed a palm on the table (but not too loud) and sighed—more like a hiss, like an angry cat. It seems that whomever she was to entertain that evening had lost interest in this little meeting.
JETHRO
It was incredible the things one could get away with if they made a little effort to blend in! Heeding the social media hive buzzing about a certain Madam Director blessing The Capitol with her presence, Jethro took a break from perusing rare parts to pursue a far more exceptional treasure.
Taking his hobby of harassing companions hard at work into account, how could he resist the call of the swan queen herself? Even before Jethro scrolled the wall of baseless rumors and speculation of a date gone south on his commlink, he was already well aware of the her celebrity status.. and whether she realized it or not, the red menace of legend spoken in hushed whispers among her underlings (lest they summon him again, shiver) and her soon-to-be-suited suitor were one in the same.
Trailing through the double doors after a party that had nothing better to do than hem and haw over seating arrangements, with scant time to admire the wrought iron work Jethro dashed passed the maître d' and aimed for the coat closet to borrow some threads. A handful of garments were decidedly more human-shaped than the others, which meant ruling anything with a 4ft wide waist or more than two arms out. He settled on a trench coat that completely covered his graphic T-shirt and the loops of his jeans. Success?! The bald head and sunglasses combo had him looking less roguish ruffian and more Mr. Worldwide, but it was yet to be seen if he could convince her to come back to the hotel, motel, or Holiday Inn.
It wasn’t hard to find Zaffre, for in spite of the plentiful other women about, the room was framed around her. Far from the only lad present seeking to leave an impression, it was difficult to imagine that some schmuck would waste her valuable time once he had it! Luckily for our leading lady, Kilroy Axelrad was thrilled at the prospect of being the one to turn her night around.
If Jethro possessed any poetic inclination like the android that managed to sweep his own blue off her feet, comparisons would be drawn between her beauty and that of Athasse, the planet’s azure moon. His approach wasn’t nearly as dignified, but.. points for originality? Snatching the roses right off another couple’s table, the one si(magical)p to rule them all presented them to the sour-faced sorashi with a shit eating grin.
“Made it! So, what were your other two wishes?”
ZAFFRE
Jethro had come a long way to reach what is analogously the boss fight. Hope you’re high enough level for this bleu belle, you crazy red devil, because you’re about to face off with the baddest ho this side of the Mobius Strip.
Zaffre had the mind to throw up her hands and call it quits until Kilroy Axelrad jazz-handed his way into her presence, leaving her stunned for a split second before breaking into an award-winning smile. “Oh, Mr. Volante,” she purred ecstatically, sounding as though nothing could possibly please her more than to have Jethro as her prime guest. She extended her glittering fingers to Kilroy, the well bred socialite clearly expecting it to be smooched.
“Oh, is that all I get? Two wishes?” She pouted with a giggle, eyeing Jethro up and down. Ever the perfect picture of sophistication and civility, the Companion never broke her sweet smile.
“I will make sure that they, ah…” Zaffre brushed her blue upper lip with her tongue in a slow-as-honey gesture. “…are not wasted. Indulge me, then. For my second wish, I want a photo with you to mark the occasion. I dare say that this is one I would enjoy cherishing now and forever, especially with a, mmm, handsome man such as yourself.” The way she gushed toward the end, you’d think she had just experienced an earth-shattering orgasm.
Before waiting for Kilroy’s answer, Zaffre already rose up and gestured imperiously for him to come close, pushing her voluptuous breasts together in his general direction to entice him to comply. What man could resist those heavy bazookas just begging to pop out of her dress? A waiter was summoned, taking Zaffre’s commlink.
JETHRO
THE Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad wasn’t one to pass up a challenge, much less one that—like a shiny Pokémon—presented itself once in every 4,096 (give or take a few) chances. A woman of her caliber wouldn’t be fooled twice, so Jethro held his hefty master balls at the ready.
“The one and only!” he declared as convincingly as possible with no actual idea of what the real Mr. V was like. Like his pilfered offering, there was no way this could present a problem in the slightest.
Smacked with a face full of thorns when the owner of the flowers swiped them back, Jethro sputtered and stumbled at the prompt for the chivalrous gesture.
“I can get more!”
Sorry, Zaff, but Jeth was more of a “breeding well” guy than well-bred one!
When it finally clicked, he fell back on what he’d seen in the cartoons both as a kid and again many, many times over marathoning reruns with a certain green alien. Their seating arrangement prevented him from channeling his full Pepé Le Pew, but there resurfaced a bit of his youthful mischief as the lips pressed to the back of her hand.
“I didn’t mean to waste your time, honest. I just got so.. nervous!”
It was a lie, but.. hadn’t been any closer to coming true for a very long while. Though he knew better than to take a working lady’s word at face value, Zaffre’s enthusiasm could make even the most downtrodden man feel like king of the world.. of the galaxy, even!
Two wishes? ..Did he say two wishes?
“Hey, I can be convinced.” Wink wonk.
As the purr of the pretty blue woman alone could cure erectile dysfunction the world over, the power of her breasts easily compelled him to the other side of the table.
“You read my mind!”
There was no hover hand here, folks! Getting right up in there with an arm sidewinder snaked around her hourglass waist, the limb slithered farther and farther south following each photo snapped—sexy, silly, “sophisticated”—and then decidedly less so as he copped a feel of her copious rear.
“I’d say ‘let’s pretend that we like each other’, but..” he waggled his brows.
Companions valued privacy, right? So there was no way for those pictures to be discovered by her true client, right?
ZAFFRE
The young man was rough around the edges, Zaffre thought dryly. So sure of himself, and so very thirsty. Topped with his apology, however much a sham it was, left the Companion in a blushing titter.
"Oh, darling," she sighed, batting her long lashes. "It's as they say--absence makes the heart grow fonder. As I waited, mere thoughts of you only heightened my longing for you."
Zaffre drew Kilroy closer, cheek to cheek. The ass grab during one of the shots came as a surprise, but she never faltered, not even a little bit, and turned to him when it was over, patting his face in an affectionate gesture. "Oh, you!" she chided playfully, showing off her glittering teeth, then whispering conspiratorially. "Save it for the sheets, Mr. Volante! There will be plenty time for that, and more." She gave him the most gulp-worthy sensual wink, a promise that there will be more to come... more than he bargained for.
When the photoshoot was over, Zaffre played hard to get as she twirled gracefully from her red suitor, gliding her hands down her waist and rear, giggling. "Who's pretending?" she purred. Oh, the irony. She took her commlink, leaning in and speaking briefly into the waiter's ear. The waiter nodded, and left, casting a deliberate look at Kilroy. Was that one of suspicion?
"Mr. Volante, will you excuse me for just a moment? I need to powder my nose. Dinner will be delivered shortly. Please, help yourself in my short absence, my darling; there is no need for courtesies." Without waiting for Kilroy's response, Zaffre blew him a kiss and swayed casually to the lady's restroom with her silks whispering about her heels, went into one of the stalls, and immediately and feverishly fanned herself to get her bearings.
Meanwhile, the waiter returned, delivering their meager appetizer for the evening: a soupe à l'oignon complete with onions, croutons, and melted cheese; and next to that, salade niçoise, a beautifully prepared salad with red peppers, shallots, artichoke, green beans, and a few odd vegetables. To wash it all down, a rich Dom Pérignon Rose Gold poured into crystal wine glasses. This was not enough to satisfy hungry men, but none of the surrounding moneybags seemed to complain too much.
If Kilroy thought that perhaps she would never return, he would thankfully be mistaken: for there she was again, giving shifty glances before sitting back down.
JETHRO
You’ll forgive him for being a bit on the thirsty side, Zaff. It ain’t easy living in the desert! Hardened by dry heat and whipped coarse by sandstorms, his snake skin was plated by callouses that hadn’t heard of much less seen an exfoliator like, ever. He was raw, an unfiltered contrast to a companion so selectively schooled and spun from the dreams of the lonesome and despondent.
“Big same!” he condensed what she put so eloquently into an expression about as mature as he was.
Strutting like a real cock of the walk with the hottest woman on the planet at his beck and crow, Jethro’s wattles colored a deeper shade of red at the allusion to an.. afterparty. Apparently, Mr. Volante was the type to pay for dinner and dessert.
Considering the youth’s bottomless stomach, how could he possibly refuse the tantalizing offer on his plate?
The thought alone had his artificial heart working overtime. He was going to get a chance—not with any old companion, but the best of the best, the leader of the pack.. which in his inflated self-importance, only made sense due to his own standing in the Sidewinders. She must have sensed it, too, that unmistakable big dick energy!
When Zaffre ran her hands over the very curves he craved, Jeth all but drooled on the tablecloth. He was a goner, alright, at least not a coomer!
“Yeah.. who?” he whispered, positively entranced.
Ah, the women's bathroom. One of the few places in the galaxy he was unable to woo (read: harass) them. Unsure if she meant powdering her nose in the literal sense or the Pulp Fiction sense, he shot some finger guns her way.
“Don’t have fun without me!”
Whatever she felt the need to privately convey, Jethro didn’t seem too concerned as he reached across the table and got to work.
...
He bit his lip on Zaffre’s return, waiting for her to notice the shape he folded their napkins into.
“If we’re gonna be fucking, I thought it was better to tell you now than later,” he picked salad from his teeth with a fish knife, “I got crabs.”
Showing the crustacean imitations off, he grinned from ear to ear as he sensed the stares of other diners burning holes into his stolen suit.
“Hope that’s not a deal breaker!”
He offered her one to hold and admire. It stared at her with two round, olive eyes.
ZAFFRE
Zaffre had been in many situations that seemed like a brilliant idea at a time, but more often than not ended in some form of tragedy. Needless to say, her trip to the bathroom did nothing for her nerves. At least she had her old habits as a practiced Companion, for her face was ever the picture-perfect angelic smile before Mr. Axelrad.
The second she sat down, her eyes fell to the cleverly folded napkin. Kilroy’s words left her stunned silent again, but then her face broke as she laughed uncontrollably at this unexpected little gift. Her nerves vanished.
For some reason, Kilroy possessed about him a sense of familiarity. With a pang, she was reminded of Mylo. Not in the sense in that they were the same, I mean, LOOK at Kilroy, and his wretched vomit-worthy shoulder pads—but that they both had that same unpredictable and spontaneous nature, a trait that Zaffre found very endearing. It was a shame she had not planned on giving this imposter that ‘kingly’ treatment in the sheets, and for a brief moment the Companion felt guilty for leading him on like this, especially since her words weren’t at all genuine. She could say he did not deserve her time for trying to be slick, but he had certainly captured her attention, despite how uncouth a person he truly is in her eyes.
She can understand why her Companions would shoo the man away. He may not have money, and he might be gross (picking at his teeth with a knife? Whaaat? Eww), and his personality was not one many of her kind looked for. She, on the other hand… she had stranger tastes than her flock.
As if it were made of glass, Zaffre held the crab napkin and smiled at it. It was a genuine smile, for she was a lady that could appreciate works of art in all forms, even as one so simple as a folded napkin. “Mr. Devante, this is really neat and creative. In truth I don’t much like to eat them, but I think they’re crabsolutely clawsome.” Zaffre couldn’t stop smiling. “I hope it’s not too shellfish of me to keep this?”
JETHRO
Zaffre’s ongoing tragedy made for the Sidewinder’s Shakespearean comedy, complete with the element of “mistaken” identity and puns a plenty.. though the extent to which she held her own in the realm of wits wouldn’t be witnessed in full until she accepted his gift.
Try as he might to play it cool, not even the king of chill was 100% sure she would return from the ladies’ room ready for round two (hey, at least he used a knife and not his fingernails!). He was a bit more certain of Zaffre regretting her choice following the vulgarity he shit sprinkled into their conversation like no big deal.
“..Cute,” he quietly observed as she laughed. Everything about her was so immaculate, so controlled that seeing her let go for that mere moment was equally as captivating.
“Go ahead and ‘pinch’ it!” he passed the crab to Zaffre. The silken handkerchief was hardly his to give away, but he’d thwart anyone that planned to pry it from her.
Puppeteering his own crabby in his hands, his sorry attempt at ventriloquism (using a creature without a visible mouth, no less) was worth a pity laugh at best.
“Woah, is that..?” the crab did a double take, “She’s way out of your league!”
“I know, I know.. still can’t believe she gave a guy like me a chance.. that’s why I can’t mes-shit!”
First the eyes rolled off. Then came disaster. Powerless to stop gravity at work as his new friend completely unrolled, Jethro was left sprawled halfway out of his chair with a floppy napkin in the middle of the dining room.
Like Kanye avoiding Amy Schumer on the red carpet, the waiter had no interest in his buffoonery. Their next dish came from the sea: two ice poached oysters served concasséd paired with seaweed and lemon granité.
Both men opted to pretend that didn’t happen.
Poking the cold and slimy shellfish with the end of his fork, he scrunched his nose as the contents swirled around like an ashtray left out in the rain.
Talk about a hard sell. Or should I say.. a hard shell.
“I bet you’ve been on hundreds of dates just like this, huh?” Booo-ring!
“Woah, I just had the craziest idea,” he searched for her hands to hold and (hopefully) rub off a bit of his enthusiasm, “there’s a place I know—not far from here—where we can get away from all these rich people.”
Wasn’t he among that very same demographic?
“It’ll be totally worth it. You game?”
ZAFFRE
The Companion did as Kilroy bade and pinched her crab, and stared, clearly captivated, at what he’d do next. The act tickled her. She giggled. “Well,” she sighed, giving the crab a fond pat. “I am known for rooting for the underdog, Mr. Crab. It’s gotten me into heaps of trouble before. But between you and me,” she told the crab, gasping as it unraveled, she tried to hide the grin behind her hand.
“Oh dear. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before he poofed!” That wouldn’t stop her, but she decided to wait until at least after the food was delivered, grinning sheepishly at the abashed waiter. “Here, let me?” She plucked up the unfolded crab. “How did you do it?” She attempted gentle twists, but the result of her efforts proved futile and made the worst representation of a crab ever. “Uhh, never mind, I suppose I’ll leave it up to the professional.” She placed Kilroy’s mangled crab back on the table.
Zaffre leaned back on her chair, unable to eat after the meager helping of grapes. It didn’t take much to fill her stomach. She did drink some champagne, watching Kilroy play with his food, like a child fascinated by an animal exhibit.
Kilroy’s question—or questions—made the Companion duck her eyes and smile at the table as she carefully put her champagne down. “Before I agree with your little proposal, there’s something you must know.” He was holding her hands, of which she obliged him. “To answer your first question… no ‘date’ has quite been like this. In fact, this wasn’t supposed to be a date.”
Where was Zaffre getting at? The way she was speaking to Kilroy now was tender, but there was something else, something uncomfortable, as if something was about to unravel itself, like the crab did.
“I’ve always been a bit of a rebel. I suppose that is what sets me apart from the rest of my flock, who are too pretentious to look past a credit.”
She knew. She knew.
“For what it’s worth, this is far more exciting than what was on the itinerary.” The Companion smiled from across the table. It was not an act; there was a knowing look in her eye. “I admire your audacity. Now that the bushcat’s out of the can, and if it still strikes your fancy, I think I would enjoy anywhere else but this place—full of ‘rich people’, as it were. Stuffy, uppity, insufferable creatures they tend to be.” Zaffre waited to see how Kilroy would respond to this. It was important to note that, despite everything, she was not upset.
JETHRO
“Underdog” was more than a fair assessment of the man’s character—not solely among the Madam Director’s admirers, but of his lot in life after crash landing on Abbadon. Jethro was a mutt leaping on her long and lovely legs, begging for a bone. Even scraps would do!
“..I can pass your message along?” he suggested so as to not miss out on whatever secret she came so close to willfully imparting on him.. er, his crab.
Grinning ear to ear as she attempted to reconstruct his companion in earnest, Jethro rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the chance to show off his craft.
“Professional, here. Watch and learn!”
Laying the napkin out flat, he rolled around a quarter of the length of the cloth at one end. Next, he gently tugged and folded most of the remaining napkin four times on top of the roll. The rest was tucked beneath the bunch to form the cephalothorax, and the rolls were pinched and separated to form individual legs. Ta-dah! Now those were some deft fingers!
“I’m trusting you, Z.. I mean.. lady Z. Don’t let this power fall into the wrong hands,” he nodded, sagely. Jethro must have really liked her to bestow her with the power of crustacean creation!
On that note, there was nothing little about his proposal! However, the gradual fade of his toothy grin conveyed his confusion most candidly.
“I don’t follow..” Who would invite a woman of her infinite qualities here if not for a romantic rendezvous? Jethro was dumbfounded.
Had she been lead to believe Mr. Volante didn’t have the credits to keep her happy? No.. this wasn’t about him. Zaffre was peeking behind the curtain to speak to him—the real Jethro—personally. He felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck.
The jig was up.
“..Gorgeous and smart.. but you can’t say I didn’t dress the part!”
Oh, if only he knew that her opinion about his stolen jacket was hardly lukewarm! Thrilled enough that she hadn’t called security on his lying ass (or had she?), he squeezed before letting go.
“Hang tight. I just need a sec.”
Climbing to the top of their table, he tapped his champagne glass for the attention of all those present, spilling some in the process.
“Attention, ladies and gentlemen!” Your entertainment for the evening!
“..Rich people, am I right?”
There were a few nervous laughs, but most patrons were skeptical of the youth interrupting their dinner with pointless shenanigans.
Regardless, the true purpose of his grandstanding would soon be made clear.
“I have a message from Abbadon!”
It turned out the cynics were on to something (something foul), as he waited until enough eyes were on him before shedding the ugly garment and.. his pants.
“Come and kiss it!”
The collective gasp that followed was more than worth missing out on the rest of their meal, and he got that shit for free!
Once satisfied with the absolute chaos of the dining room, he took Zaffre by the wrist and made for the nearest exit.. but not before swiping a lobster from the same couple he yoinked the bouquet of roses.
“I dedicate this lobster to the streets!”
Naturally, he pitched it through a glass window before dashing out the door. Here’s to hoping Zaffre could run in heels!
ZAFFRE
As extraordinary an entertainer Zaffre is, she was also a wonderful audience, and gave Jethro the limelight as he displayed his craft. When the man solemnly begged for secrecy, Zaffre gave him a firm nod. “Cross my heart,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, making cross gestures across her breast.
Once Jethro started to understand that Zaffre knew, she felt she owed him an explanation, and it would be poor payment to beat around the bush. She leaned forward conspiratorially, whispering. “I’m afraid your face is known, honey. I recognized you the minute I saw you.” Imposters don’t last long, sweet red. “Don’t worry. I won’t snitch if you won’t.”
Zaffre had no idea how chaotic Jethro truly was, not until he took it upon himself to rise up on their table. It was easy to capture everyone’s attention without the use of the glass, because nobody in their right minds would actually copy what Jethro was doing! Unable to stop herself from gasping and smiling (a little bit out of embarrassment, shock, and surprise all at once), the Companion stage-whispered up at him. “What are you doing, get down from there!” There was no stopping this red force of nature; he was already four dimensions ahead. Then the patrons were blessed by Jethro’s ass, which only made Zaffre clap her hands over her face to stifle a snicker. “BOLD!” She yelled at him, drowned easily by the uproar of everyone else.
Wrist taken, Zaffre had no choice but to follow along, completely ABASHED at what was happening, but she didn’t stop it. She let out a little yelp when Jethro yeeted the lobster through the window.
Meanwhile, as they escaped through the exit, a tall, handsome gentleman sidestepped as the pair pushed through. “Lady Zaffre?” He could have sworn that was a blur of blue hair that almost smacked him in the face. He tried to crane his neck over a throng of outraged people to find her. “Wait, our—our meeting—Zaffre?! I think—I think she’s being kidnapped!”
Uh, oh.
Zaffre heard the (familiar) voice, a dawning realization making her scowl. “Ah, shit.” Zaffre! How uncouth! “Run faster, Shoulder Pads!” She huffed along, her heels clacking, but damn that ho can run. “Before he catches us! Yes, you, holding my wrist, unless you got a real name I can call you, because we just ran past Mr. Volante back there, and we definitely don’t want to get caught!”
Needless to say, Zaffre was enjoying this.
JETHRO
Her oath of secrecy was appreciated, but not nearly to the extent of his acknowledged infamy. God damn it, Jeth! Did you really have to be such a sussy baka?
So his face was familiar, was it?
“Guess that makes both of us famous! But, you know.. you could always get to know it better..” he glimpsed over his shoulder (sans hideous pads) to smirk at her. Bold and brash, this Sidewinder belonged in the trash!
Smashing a window and kidnapping a celebrity were two wildly different charges, and Jethro wasn’t sure the latter was the greatest look for him OR the Sidewinders (cue Percy witnessing the mess unfold live on The Gold Digger’s TV—whoops)! Nonetheless, his taunt to the real Mr. Volante—who was admittedly less fat and old than he was expecting)—wasn’t exactly reassuring:
“Ya snooze, ya lose, fed!”
So he ran until the glitzy name brand boutiques were demoted to pawn shops and liquor stores. When he swerved down a dark, dead end alley, Zaffre wasn’t likely to comply due to the imminent danger within, but Jethro wouldn’t be deterred!
“It’s Kilroy.. Kilroy Axelrad!”
Now, where was that.. aha! Reaching for his blaster pistol, he took aim at the drop ladder locked several feet above them. It dismounted with a crash, and he beckoned her to go ahead.
“Almost there, Z! Ladies first!”
How chivalrous! Try not to think too hard about the why, my dear Zaffre, as if the sirens were any indication, the coppers were closing in fast!
ZAFFRE
“Oh no, don’t tease him! Do you have a death wish?” Kilroy knew not the power of this Galaxy Federation agent, thus the reason Zaffre thought it wise to book it rather than dilly-dally when the merciless lawmaker was right there to witness it all.
When they paused even for just a moment, Zaffre’s huge bosom heaved as she caught up her breath. She fanned herself with her manicured hand, using the other to fuss with her curls. “I have no qualms getting to know you, Mr. Axelrad,” Zaffre smirked, knowing exactly what he meant. Did he know exactly what she meant?
Oh, dear. Seems like Mr. Volante was quick to call in the Peacekeepers, whom were now hot on their trail. The Companion looked quite giddy, like she was at a theme park rather than about to get in some serious trouble.
Zaffre gasped when Kilroy produced a blaster pistol and used it to drop the ladder down. She quickly covered her ears. “Are you always this mischievous, Mr. Axelrad?” Zaffre laughed, hardly daring to believe that this is happening.
The red Sidewinder attempted to be polite and let the lady go up first. Giving him a knowing glance, she did as he bade, and carefully started climbing up. “Getting a good eye full, are you, darling?” If Kilroy was looking up her dress, he’d probably get a peek of lacy unmentionables (unless the faux wind slapped sparkling silk into Kilroy’s face instead, barring his view). “Oh—!” Zaffre’s stiletto slipped off, much like Cinderella at the ball, and tumbled down the ladder. Hopefully that didn’t smack Kilroy in the face, either.
“Come on, Mr. Axelrad! Forget about my shoe!” Zaffre had already clambered over to the top and stretched out her hand to him.
JETHRO
Death wish, smesh smish! When no public servant nor written law would contain him, they (he) didn’t call him (self) Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad for nothing!
“He kept you waiting long enough, anyways! Just say you needed some fresh air!”
It should have been impossible given his mechanical augmentations that Jethro was left winded, but the spectacle of her panting with exertion brought to mind another exercise they could employ together. The air was thicker and his pants tighter as he cleared his throat.
“You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”
Choosing not to concede to the enlightened glance she gave him, the Sidewinder asserted his oath of innocence until the very end.
“Yeah, the stars are beautiful tonight!” The ones shimmering on her posterior, that is. Given the immense light pollution, the true night sky was blanketed by a rusty haze.
Sputtering as the sparkly fabric slithered its way into his gaping mouth, Jethro’s devilry was repaid in full as the heel sliced his temple open on the way down.
“Ppppbb-bbbp-woah!” he cried, watching as the priceless footwear tumbled behind a dumpster, “Shit!”
Snatching her hand, he hoisted himself the rest of the way up. Contrary to the deepness of the cut, no blood prickled or poured out. He promptly cupped the wound, concealing the glint of metal between his quivering fingers. And to think, just as he was getting over the whole no head of hair thing..
Standing resolutely apart, Jethro was also struggling to come to terms with his rotten luck. Unless she forcibly held him still, any attempts to get a closer look would be thwarted.
“H-hey! Check it out!” he jabbed towards the far edge of the building from where the city’s skyline was most visible.
ZAFFRE
“I suppose that’s a good plan as any… ’fresh air’, the Companion snorted, but not unkindly. “That, he did.” This was followed up with a little sigh. “I don’t hold his lateness against him, but I do really loathe to be kept waiting. That meeting was supposed to decide… hmm.” Zaffre’s voice trailed away; it would not do to bore the obviously free spirited man to tears.
Kilroy’s injury naturally attracted the nurturing Companion, who insisted worrying over the cut on his head. “It’s alright, I just want to see if it’s a deep cut is all,” she cooed softly. “Oh…” She saw no blood where his hand attempted to hide the wound. Zaffre knew insecure men, but never knew one to be so insecure about a cut, bald head aside.
“I am so sorry, darling. The damn thing hurt to walk in, anyway.” Zaffre immediately relieved herself of the other stiletto, trying to punch down her feelings as she abandoned her thousands of dollars worth of asteroid-mined crystal studded shoes. What would Mylo say? Zaffre thought it best never to mention her betrayal to him, lest he dies of shock.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” The Companion closed the gap between them, her warmth surely washing over the Sidewinder. The outside temperature dropped, as it does in a desert environment, which meant the air would be enough to give goosebumps. Tenderly, she would try to take Kilroy’s hand away from his head. “You don’t need to hide from me, Mr. Axelrad. I am sure you have nothing I’ve never seen before.” Cough. “Don’t worry, I won’t laugh. Although…” The Sorashi peered out into the night air, watching the search party commence. “It seems as if you and I landed ourselves into a heap of trouble.”
Zaffre indulged Kilroy by observing the skyline. “It is something. You get a whole different perspective up here.”
JETHRO
In a galaxy fraught with machines and their masters, his plight was anything but unique..
But it Jethro, it was everything.
To state he was mortified as the false skin split further open by the stretch of his grimace was putting it gently.
“I-I’m human, okay? Just had.. an accident.”
A freak accident.
Oh, how he wished that were the case. The scalpel that cut him from head to toe was purposeful, nearly artistic in its incision. If brutality was an artform, his body was the canvas.
Visions of their eventual embrace dissipated into those of Zaffre cradling his severed head: This is it. This is me. This is all am.
For the way he recoiled from her caring touch, she might as well have nudged him with a cattle prod.
“..Sorry..”
Since when did the Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad apologize? Flighty and uncertain, Jeth was officially off his game. If this was a prank, he would have seized their proximity as his chance to kiss her.
But.. no.
“..Yeah.. t’sfine..” he mumbled, hands positively magnetic in their gravitation towards his face.
He had to stop. He had to breathe. He was ruining everything. Jethro hadn’t spirited the prima donna away for an impromptu therapy session.
“Should’ve kept that jacket..” he chuckled, lacking the faintest idea of how she despised it. As his breath manifested in short, puffy clouds, the Sidewinder wasn’t so preoccupied with fashion as he was keeping her warm.
And speaking of a new perspective..
“No shade, but.. you’re way cooler than I thought you were. I mean.. since you hang out with some real snobs.. just figured you were one, too,” he shrugged.
There was a distinct fissure between where they’d come from and where they now stood, perched, watching, and waiting. He traced the horizon with his finger, landing on the site of their date-not-date, reduced to scarce more than a blip on his radar.
“Not so impressive anymore, huh?” he slung an arm over her shoulders, “Not compared to.. that!”
Swiping a page from the sparkling statues of the upper crust that brought a crystal tear to Swarovski’s eye, the swan in flight was welded entirely from scrap metal sold by the pennies.. yet managed to capture the bird’s likeness to a far greater extent—down to the very feather—a testament to the resourcefulness and resolve of the community in whose plaza it was built.
ZAFFRE
You’re better off,” Zaffre teased, glad to dislodge that abominable jacket from their lives forever. She would rather freeze her buns off than to let if fall on her shoulders. “Worry not, darling. I will find you better threads worthy of your adventurous candor.” No sarcasm here. Zaffre meant what she said. If she could get away with it, Kilroy might find himself the object of her shopping obsession in the near future—and a much needed trip to Give An Inch.
Where Kilroy had strayed from his mojo, Zaffre rose to shine in the social spotlight. Far too used to situations like these, the ‘now what’s’ or ‘this hadn’t gone as planned’ didn’t phase the Companion. Every gesture was one with compassion and grace—Kilroy’s emotions and concerns would be in good hands.
Many who insist that they are human had a reason to—Zaffre couldn’t help but think that maybe the reason why the red Sidewinder was keen to proclaim himself human with vehemence might have something to do with Lux. Fearful of their oppression made perfect sense, having had an unfortunate personal connection with them in the past. It was little wonder Zaffre pondered this, and she would not deny him. Human or no, she didn’t seem to care.
The Companion looked on, manifesting concern from hidden thought, imploring with her hands, but ultimately keeping them close to her chest. “Oh, sweets. You needn’t tell me, I can see that you are, and so much more. Please, do not worry, Ravíma.” Oh. Oh, dear. Kilroy had been nicknamed. Then there was a little smile, teasing. “I never kiss and tell. What secrets you bear will be treated with confidence.”
The smile the Sorashi bore was serene, and kind. “In my experience, there is no greater reward than giving people a chance.” She turned to look at Kilroy for a brief moment, her eyes, which harbored a soft glow in the night, seemed to sparkle. “You never know how someone might surprise you. What I thought was a sly little mouse turned out to be one of the most adventurous, unapologetic people I’ve ever met. You mooned them… I cannot believe…” Zaffre resorted to snickering behind her hand. “I wish I was more like that. I suppose that is why… mm…” Her voice faded away as her thoughts drifted to the unconventional people in her life, who were not entirely what you call normal. Zaffre was drawn to that crowd, like a caged bird fascinated by the freedom of these wild animals.
Kilroy thinking that Zaffre was actually cool earned a laugh. “Am I? That is the biggest compliment anyone has ever given me.” She beamed at him, then it faded slightly. “I was free of all this riff-raff, once. For a little while. It was… nice, while it lasted. But then the past caught up with me, and I tumbled down the rabbit hole all over again only to come back out as the White Queen.” There was something deeply cultured about the way Zaffre spoke of the well-known human story of Alice in Wonderland. Even so, it was not quite to her taste. There was a frown. “Freedom, apparently, is far too high a price for a Companion.” The smile returned, more reassuring for herself than anything else. “Worry not, sweets. At least you have your freedom. Never squander it. How else could I live vicariously through you?”
Zaffre’s luminous eyes followed the Sidewinder’s gesture out into the open air, where all laid bare below them. The arm was not unwelcome, and she pulled in close to see where he was pointing. “Oh, my, will you look at that. What remarkable art!” The way she spoke, clearly swans held some significance to the Swan Queen herself. “That would look stunning in my front yard. I wonder whom they commissioned for it?”
JETHRO
“What’s wrong with my jacket, huh?” he crossed his arms.
Truth be told, there wasn’t much to be offended by when it wasn’t his to begin with. When it came to two-armed garments that fit his frame, the selection from which he stole was sorely lacking!
“I ‘borrowed’ it, okay? No way they’d let me in otherwise! I’d dress like a clown if it meant a chance to see you!” Honk, honk!
If being reduced to guinea pig meant coming together in the near future, Jethro would endure! This is what he told himself, having not the smallest notion of Mylo’s existence or what being subjected to the pair’s experimentation could mean for him.
“Yeah.. Rav.. whatever you said,” he echoed, dreamily.
Jethro didn’t need to understand what she was calling him to fanboy over the fact that the Lady Director had bestowed him with his own honorary title. In lieu of that earlier mishap, things were on the mend for our hero in red!
And would you look at that! The more she spoke of his virtues, the redder he became! What.. what was this? Zaffre was too thoughtful, too understanding, just too downright.. nice to him.
As warmth flooded his cheeks, it became increasingly apparent that the playboy was in over his head. He held some sway over young and impressionable girls, but Zaffre was a woman.. and a professional, at that.
As he never touched a single novel throughout his high school career, her reference was lost on him.. but Jethro didn’t need to study Carroll to grasp the plight that weighed heavy on her shoulders.
“Hey,” he licked his lips, no longer shying away as he spun from the statue to make eye contact, ”I can make you one—a swan, anything you want—take you anywhere you want to go..”
There was a hopeful lilt to his voice, as if the solution was as easy as opening the door.
“Kiss and tell..? But we haven’t even kissed yet..”
ZAFFRE
“Oh—n-nothing…” Zaffre awkwardly cast away her gaze to the sky, sucking in her lips, a tell-tale sign that she might not be very truthful. “Borrowed?” Now she looked back at her so-called kidnapper, smirking. “I see…” Poor, desperate fool, she thought.
Zaffre had Kilroy’s attention in return. The offer lit up her face. “You can make a swan, Mr. Axelrad? How sweet of you! It would mean the world to me.” But then her face fell, in what could be described as one overcome with guilt. “But—oh, I mustn’t, I’m undeserving!” She shied away, drawing the back of her delicate hand to her face as if she might faint.
“Oh… darling, I simply cannot bear it a moment longer! These feelings… you must know, you must!” Was this really happening? “Oh, but what you will think of me!” It was like straight from a cinematic love story, complete with a compelling John William’s score: Zaffre, whipping around to face the city, curls drifting in the breeze, and her silks whispering against her bare feet and legs. A picture of heart-pounding Oscar-worthy drama, as it were. What were these feelings?! What could she mean…?
“Mr. Axelrad…” Zaffre gave an exhilarating twirl, holding her hands out to him. The wind picked up, followed by a strong light that fell upon her to add to the mood. Wait, where did that wind come from? That light? Ah, nevermind; it must all be a hallucinogenic high borne from lovesick fools. You can almost hear the heart-wrenching rise in the music. “Your jacket…” What? “…is *atrocious.” You can almost hear the record player scratching to an abrupt halt. The Companion slapped a hand over her mouth and gave a squeak, then went for his hands. “It’s the truth, Ravíma! There, I said it…” Zaffre gasped for air as if she had run a marathon. “Please understand it is no judgment of your character, but knowing you chose that—to only ‘borrow’ it as you say—I couldn’t live with the guilt by lying to you, I really do think it looks quite terrible on your frame, and those shoulder pads…” Saying those last two words was like swallowing a lemon.
“Darling, if you truly mean to take me anywhere, let us go…” Badump, badump, badump… “…shopping. Please, let me dress you.”
WHAT.
By the way, it is highly important to note that the dramatic spotlight had come from a quiet hovercraft that swept over them, the wind caused from its rotor blades. Had they been found? Oh, dear.
JETHRO
Considering his wishy-washy sense of commitment, Jethro tried to leave little room for doubt—even as Zaffre hemmed and hawed over her jaw-dropping revelation—that he meant to keep good on his promise.
“It’ll be the best damn swan you’ve ever seen,” he doubled down as she curiously second guessed herself. What in the galaxy could cause the companion’s confidence to waver so?
The truth had a funny way of coming out. Though she had since ditched them, his heart cracked like glass under heel.
Atrocious, huh..?
Cut, cut, cut! This was the part where our beautiful yet unattainable heroine confessed her forbidden love to the bold and courageous hero! Zaffre had it all wrong!
She.. she’d heard him, hadn’t she? Unless.. he’d made so terrible an error that no further effort on his part could erase its impact.
Jethro recalled something an ex-fling mentioned about tigers and stripes and—oh god—what had he been expecting? Nothing like a near tryst to make the heart grow fonder of the person that’d seen him dressed in rags and judged not (okay, maybe a little bit).
“But.. I thought..”
See, that was his first mistake. It was better to leave the heavy thinking to the professionals.
He shook his head. The biggest crush in the universe couldn’t keep him from second guessing his pursuit up to that point.. Thankfully, the arrival of the police saved him the trouble of finding the words she was looking for.
“This is the end of line for me. Stay beautiful!” he waved before diving off the building into a dumpster below. There was no greater indication of the world between them yet than his willingness to do so.
Rolling off the bags that cushioned his fall, the cyborg didn’t stick around to see what happened next. Hopefully Zaffre thought to make the coppers call off their pursuit!
ZAFFRE
Zaffre knew something was wrong, she could sense it on Red’s face. Before anything else could be done, a question, a compassionate approach—Kilroy thought it best to run in the opposite direction.
“Wait a moment—“
It was a bit too late; the Peacekeepers had already found her, but seemed to lose trail of the slippery Sidewinder whom managed to escape on time.
Putting on her public face, Zaffre waited for the Peacekeepers to descend. The photographers flashed their cameras, the reporters swarmed in, but the straight-backed Companion Director kept a straight face.
“I was not kidnapped,” was all she said to them. Any charges put forth on the mysterious Kilroy Axelrad was dropped, and they would not pursue him further. The details of their flight from Spellbound could only be speculated from this point on. Nobody could accept Zaffre’s truth; and where ignorance thrived, so too did the conspiracies and rumors.
Zaffre would never forget him. But she did forget about her stiletto.
ZAFFRE
Spellbound was a luxurious Earth Parisian-inspired restaurant somewhere near spitting distance of the Golden Chalice. It was lit by candelabras shining over the white marble. It was one of those places where bored and ugly rich people came to show off their arm candy and spend a lot of money on small portions, we’re talking you don’t ask how much or the waiter will say you can’t afford it. And then they go to the Chalice to spend even more money.
The blue-haired Companion Queen sat at a table for two, nails clicking on a holo-tablet set next to a glass of the reddest wine and a plate full of succulent grapes and cheese, trying to tune out the piano player warbling some silly love song to her. She clearly had no interest. Nothing was more of a turn-off than some guy’s tentacle arms flailing over the piano keys.
The woman belonged here. She was bedecked in sapphires on her fingers, throat, wrists and ears. She carried about her a peculiar scent, rousing and intoxicating, as is the way of the Sorashi. Of course it meant unwanted attention. Simping fellas approached and begged for invitation to be her special guest for the evening, but they were all graciously declined. A hand swept over her Companion’s pin, a way of saying ‘Fool, I’m busy’ without telling. This gesture didn’t often work.
Zaffre swept back her perfect, voluptuous blue curls and stared ahead in a way that can be described as one tired of waiting. She checked the glittering watch at her wrist, projecting a holographic number with a small push of a button. The Companion slammed a palm on the table (but not too loud) and sighed—more like a hiss, like an angry cat. It seems that whomever she was to entertain that evening had lost interest in this little meeting.
JETHRO
It was incredible the things one could get away with if they made a little effort to blend in! Heeding the social media hive buzzing about a certain Madam Director blessing The Capitol with her presence, Jethro took a break from perusing rare parts to pursue a far more exceptional treasure.
Taking his hobby of harassing companions hard at work into account, how could he resist the call of the swan queen herself? Even before Jethro scrolled the wall of baseless rumors and speculation of a date gone south on his commlink, he was already well aware of the her celebrity status.. and whether she realized it or not, the red menace of legend spoken in hushed whispers among her underlings (lest they summon him again, shiver) and her soon-to-be-suited suitor were one in the same.
Trailing through the double doors after a party that had nothing better to do than hem and haw over seating arrangements, with scant time to admire the wrought iron work Jethro dashed passed the maître d' and aimed for the coat closet to borrow some threads. A handful of garments were decidedly more human-shaped than the others, which meant ruling anything with a 4ft wide waist or more than two arms out. He settled on a trench coat that completely covered his graphic T-shirt and the loops of his jeans. Success?! The bald head and sunglasses combo had him looking less roguish ruffian and more Mr. Worldwide, but it was yet to be seen if he could convince her to come back to the hotel, motel, or Holiday Inn.
It wasn’t hard to find Zaffre, for in spite of the plentiful other women about, the room was framed around her. Far from the only lad present seeking to leave an impression, it was difficult to imagine that some schmuck would waste her valuable time once he had it! Luckily for our leading lady, Kilroy Axelrad was thrilled at the prospect of being the one to turn her night around.
If Jethro possessed any poetic inclination like the android that managed to sweep his own blue off her feet, comparisons would be drawn between her beauty and that of Athasse, the planet’s azure moon. His approach wasn’t nearly as dignified, but.. points for originality? Snatching the roses right off another couple’s table, the one si(magical)p to rule them all presented them to the sour-faced sorashi with a shit eating grin.
“Made it! So, what were your other two wishes?”
ZAFFRE
Jethro had come a long way to reach what is analogously the boss fight. Hope you’re high enough level for this bleu belle, you crazy red devil, because you’re about to face off with the baddest ho this side of the Mobius Strip.
Zaffre had the mind to throw up her hands and call it quits until Kilroy Axelrad jazz-handed his way into her presence, leaving her stunned for a split second before breaking into an award-winning smile. “Oh, Mr. Volante,” she purred ecstatically, sounding as though nothing could possibly please her more than to have Jethro as her prime guest. She extended her glittering fingers to Kilroy, the well bred socialite clearly expecting it to be smooched.
“Oh, is that all I get? Two wishes?” She pouted with a giggle, eyeing Jethro up and down. Ever the perfect picture of sophistication and civility, the Companion never broke her sweet smile.
“I will make sure that they, ah…” Zaffre brushed her blue upper lip with her tongue in a slow-as-honey gesture. “…are not wasted. Indulge me, then. For my second wish, I want a photo with you to mark the occasion. I dare say that this is one I would enjoy cherishing now and forever, especially with a, mmm, handsome man such as yourself.” The way she gushed toward the end, you’d think she had just experienced an earth-shattering orgasm.
Before waiting for Kilroy’s answer, Zaffre already rose up and gestured imperiously for him to come close, pushing her voluptuous breasts together in his general direction to entice him to comply. What man could resist those heavy bazookas just begging to pop out of her dress? A waiter was summoned, taking Zaffre’s commlink.
JETHRO
THE Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad wasn’t one to pass up a challenge, much less one that—like a shiny Pokémon—presented itself once in every 4,096 (give or take a few) chances. A woman of her caliber wouldn’t be fooled twice, so Jethro held his hefty master balls at the ready.
“The one and only!” he declared as convincingly as possible with no actual idea of what the real Mr. V was like. Like his pilfered offering, there was no way this could present a problem in the slightest.
Smacked with a face full of thorns when the owner of the flowers swiped them back, Jethro sputtered and stumbled at the prompt for the chivalrous gesture.
“I can get more!”
Sorry, Zaff, but Jeth was more of a “breeding well” guy than well-bred one!
When it finally clicked, he fell back on what he’d seen in the cartoons both as a kid and again many, many times over marathoning reruns with a certain green alien. Their seating arrangement prevented him from channeling his full Pepé Le Pew, but there resurfaced a bit of his youthful mischief as the lips pressed to the back of her hand.
“I didn’t mean to waste your time, honest. I just got so.. nervous!”
It was a lie, but.. hadn’t been any closer to coming true for a very long while. Though he knew better than to take a working lady’s word at face value, Zaffre’s enthusiasm could make even the most downtrodden man feel like king of the world.. of the galaxy, even!
Two wishes? ..Did he say two wishes?
“Hey, I can be convinced.” Wink wonk.
As the purr of the pretty blue woman alone could cure erectile dysfunction the world over, the power of her breasts easily compelled him to the other side of the table.
“You read my mind!”
There was no hover hand here, folks! Getting right up in there with an arm sidewinder snaked around her hourglass waist, the limb slithered farther and farther south following each photo snapped—sexy, silly, “sophisticated”—and then decidedly less so as he copped a feel of her copious rear.
“I’d say ‘let’s pretend that we like each other’, but..” he waggled his brows.
Companions valued privacy, right? So there was no way for those pictures to be discovered by her true client, right?
ZAFFRE
The young man was rough around the edges, Zaffre thought dryly. So sure of himself, and so very thirsty. Topped with his apology, however much a sham it was, left the Companion in a blushing titter.
"Oh, darling," she sighed, batting her long lashes. "It's as they say--absence makes the heart grow fonder. As I waited, mere thoughts of you only heightened my longing for you."
Zaffre drew Kilroy closer, cheek to cheek. The ass grab during one of the shots came as a surprise, but she never faltered, not even a little bit, and turned to him when it was over, patting his face in an affectionate gesture. "Oh, you!" she chided playfully, showing off her glittering teeth, then whispering conspiratorially. "Save it for the sheets, Mr. Volante! There will be plenty time for that, and more." She gave him the most gulp-worthy sensual wink, a promise that there will be more to come... more than he bargained for.
When the photoshoot was over, Zaffre played hard to get as she twirled gracefully from her red suitor, gliding her hands down her waist and rear, giggling. "Who's pretending?" she purred. Oh, the irony. She took her commlink, leaning in and speaking briefly into the waiter's ear. The waiter nodded, and left, casting a deliberate look at Kilroy. Was that one of suspicion?
"Mr. Volante, will you excuse me for just a moment? I need to powder my nose. Dinner will be delivered shortly. Please, help yourself in my short absence, my darling; there is no need for courtesies." Without waiting for Kilroy's response, Zaffre blew him a kiss and swayed casually to the lady's restroom with her silks whispering about her heels, went into one of the stalls, and immediately and feverishly fanned herself to get her bearings.
Meanwhile, the waiter returned, delivering their meager appetizer for the evening: a soupe à l'oignon complete with onions, croutons, and melted cheese; and next to that, salade niçoise, a beautifully prepared salad with red peppers, shallots, artichoke, green beans, and a few odd vegetables. To wash it all down, a rich Dom Pérignon Rose Gold poured into crystal wine glasses. This was not enough to satisfy hungry men, but none of the surrounding moneybags seemed to complain too much.
If Kilroy thought that perhaps she would never return, he would thankfully be mistaken: for there she was again, giving shifty glances before sitting back down.
JETHRO
You’ll forgive him for being a bit on the thirsty side, Zaff. It ain’t easy living in the desert! Hardened by dry heat and whipped coarse by sandstorms, his snake skin was plated by callouses that hadn’t heard of much less seen an exfoliator like, ever. He was raw, an unfiltered contrast to a companion so selectively schooled and spun from the dreams of the lonesome and despondent.
“Big same!” he condensed what she put so eloquently into an expression about as mature as he was.
Strutting like a real cock of the walk with the hottest woman on the planet at his beck and crow, Jethro’s wattles colored a deeper shade of red at the allusion to an.. afterparty. Apparently, Mr. Volante was the type to pay for dinner and dessert.
Considering the youth’s bottomless stomach, how could he possibly refuse the tantalizing offer on his plate?
The thought alone had his artificial heart working overtime. He was going to get a chance—not with any old companion, but the best of the best, the leader of the pack.. which in his inflated self-importance, only made sense due to his own standing in the Sidewinders. She must have sensed it, too, that unmistakable big dick energy!
When Zaffre ran her hands over the very curves he craved, Jeth all but drooled on the tablecloth. He was a goner, alright, at least not a coomer!
“Yeah.. who?” he whispered, positively entranced.
Ah, the women's bathroom. One of the few places in the galaxy he was unable to woo (read: harass) them. Unsure if she meant powdering her nose in the literal sense or the Pulp Fiction sense, he shot some finger guns her way.
“Don’t have fun without me!”
Whatever she felt the need to privately convey, Jethro didn’t seem too concerned as he reached across the table and got to work.
...
He bit his lip on Zaffre’s return, waiting for her to notice the shape he folded their napkins into.
“If we’re gonna be fucking, I thought it was better to tell you now than later,” he picked salad from his teeth with a fish knife, “I got crabs.”
Showing the crustacean imitations off, he grinned from ear to ear as he sensed the stares of other diners burning holes into his stolen suit.
“Hope that’s not a deal breaker!”
He offered her one to hold and admire. It stared at her with two round, olive eyes.
ZAFFRE
Zaffre had been in many situations that seemed like a brilliant idea at a time, but more often than not ended in some form of tragedy. Needless to say, her trip to the bathroom did nothing for her nerves. At least she had her old habits as a practiced Companion, for her face was ever the picture-perfect angelic smile before Mr. Axelrad.
The second she sat down, her eyes fell to the cleverly folded napkin. Kilroy’s words left her stunned silent again, but then her face broke as she laughed uncontrollably at this unexpected little gift. Her nerves vanished.
For some reason, Kilroy possessed about him a sense of familiarity. With a pang, she was reminded of Mylo. Not in the sense in that they were the same, I mean, LOOK at Kilroy, and his wretched vomit-worthy shoulder pads—but that they both had that same unpredictable and spontaneous nature, a trait that Zaffre found very endearing. It was a shame she had not planned on giving this imposter that ‘kingly’ treatment in the sheets, and for a brief moment the Companion felt guilty for leading him on like this, especially since her words weren’t at all genuine. She could say he did not deserve her time for trying to be slick, but he had certainly captured her attention, despite how uncouth a person he truly is in her eyes.
She can understand why her Companions would shoo the man away. He may not have money, and he might be gross (picking at his teeth with a knife? Whaaat? Eww), and his personality was not one many of her kind looked for. She, on the other hand… she had stranger tastes than her flock.
As if it were made of glass, Zaffre held the crab napkin and smiled at it. It was a genuine smile, for she was a lady that could appreciate works of art in all forms, even as one so simple as a folded napkin. “Mr. Devante, this is really neat and creative. In truth I don’t much like to eat them, but I think they’re crabsolutely clawsome.” Zaffre couldn’t stop smiling. “I hope it’s not too shellfish of me to keep this?”
JETHRO
Zaffre’s ongoing tragedy made for the Sidewinder’s Shakespearean comedy, complete with the element of “mistaken” identity and puns a plenty.. though the extent to which she held her own in the realm of wits wouldn’t be witnessed in full until she accepted his gift.
Try as he might to play it cool, not even the king of chill was 100% sure she would return from the ladies’ room ready for round two (hey, at least he used a knife and not his fingernails!). He was a bit more certain of Zaffre regretting her choice following the vulgarity he shit sprinkled into their conversation like no big deal.
“..Cute,” he quietly observed as she laughed. Everything about her was so immaculate, so controlled that seeing her let go for that mere moment was equally as captivating.
“Go ahead and ‘pinch’ it!” he passed the crab to Zaffre. The silken handkerchief was hardly his to give away, but he’d thwart anyone that planned to pry it from her.
Puppeteering his own crabby in his hands, his sorry attempt at ventriloquism (using a creature without a visible mouth, no less) was worth a pity laugh at best.
“Woah, is that..?” the crab did a double take, “She’s way out of your league!”
“I know, I know.. still can’t believe she gave a guy like me a chance.. that’s why I can’t mes-shit!”
First the eyes rolled off. Then came disaster. Powerless to stop gravity at work as his new friend completely unrolled, Jethro was left sprawled halfway out of his chair with a floppy napkin in the middle of the dining room.
Like Kanye avoiding Amy Schumer on the red carpet, the waiter had no interest in his buffoonery. Their next dish came from the sea: two ice poached oysters served concasséd paired with seaweed and lemon granité.
Both men opted to pretend that didn’t happen.
Poking the cold and slimy shellfish with the end of his fork, he scrunched his nose as the contents swirled around like an ashtray left out in the rain.
Talk about a hard sell. Or should I say.. a hard shell.
“I bet you’ve been on hundreds of dates just like this, huh?” Booo-ring!
“Woah, I just had the craziest idea,” he searched for her hands to hold and (hopefully) rub off a bit of his enthusiasm, “there’s a place I know—not far from here—where we can get away from all these rich people.”
Wasn’t he among that very same demographic?
“It’ll be totally worth it. You game?”
ZAFFRE
The Companion did as Kilroy bade and pinched her crab, and stared, clearly captivated, at what he’d do next. The act tickled her. She giggled. “Well,” she sighed, giving the crab a fond pat. “I am known for rooting for the underdog, Mr. Crab. It’s gotten me into heaps of trouble before. But between you and me,” she told the crab, gasping as it unraveled, she tried to hide the grin behind her hand.
“Oh dear. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before he poofed!” That wouldn’t stop her, but she decided to wait until at least after the food was delivered, grinning sheepishly at the abashed waiter. “Here, let me?” She plucked up the unfolded crab. “How did you do it?” She attempted gentle twists, but the result of her efforts proved futile and made the worst representation of a crab ever. “Uhh, never mind, I suppose I’ll leave it up to the professional.” She placed Kilroy’s mangled crab back on the table.
Zaffre leaned back on her chair, unable to eat after the meager helping of grapes. It didn’t take much to fill her stomach. She did drink some champagne, watching Kilroy play with his food, like a child fascinated by an animal exhibit.
Kilroy’s question—or questions—made the Companion duck her eyes and smile at the table as she carefully put her champagne down. “Before I agree with your little proposal, there’s something you must know.” He was holding her hands, of which she obliged him. “To answer your first question… no ‘date’ has quite been like this. In fact, this wasn’t supposed to be a date.”
Where was Zaffre getting at? The way she was speaking to Kilroy now was tender, but there was something else, something uncomfortable, as if something was about to unravel itself, like the crab did.
“I’ve always been a bit of a rebel. I suppose that is what sets me apart from the rest of my flock, who are too pretentious to look past a credit.”
She knew. She knew.
“For what it’s worth, this is far more exciting than what was on the itinerary.” The Companion smiled from across the table. It was not an act; there was a knowing look in her eye. “I admire your audacity. Now that the bushcat’s out of the can, and if it still strikes your fancy, I think I would enjoy anywhere else but this place—full of ‘rich people’, as it were. Stuffy, uppity, insufferable creatures they tend to be.” Zaffre waited to see how Kilroy would respond to this. It was important to note that, despite everything, she was not upset.
JETHRO
“Underdog” was more than a fair assessment of the man’s character—not solely among the Madam Director’s admirers, but of his lot in life after crash landing on Abbadon. Jethro was a mutt leaping on her long and lovely legs, begging for a bone. Even scraps would do!
“..I can pass your message along?” he suggested so as to not miss out on whatever secret she came so close to willfully imparting on him.. er, his crab.
Grinning ear to ear as she attempted to reconstruct his companion in earnest, Jethro rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the chance to show off his craft.
“Professional, here. Watch and learn!”
Laying the napkin out flat, he rolled around a quarter of the length of the cloth at one end. Next, he gently tugged and folded most of the remaining napkin four times on top of the roll. The rest was tucked beneath the bunch to form the cephalothorax, and the rolls were pinched and separated to form individual legs. Ta-dah! Now those were some deft fingers!
“I’m trusting you, Z.. I mean.. lady Z. Don’t let this power fall into the wrong hands,” he nodded, sagely. Jethro must have really liked her to bestow her with the power of crustacean creation!
On that note, there was nothing little about his proposal! However, the gradual fade of his toothy grin conveyed his confusion most candidly.
“I don’t follow..” Who would invite a woman of her infinite qualities here if not for a romantic rendezvous? Jethro was dumbfounded.
Had she been lead to believe Mr. Volante didn’t have the credits to keep her happy? No.. this wasn’t about him. Zaffre was peeking behind the curtain to speak to him—the real Jethro—personally. He felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck.
The jig was up.
“..Gorgeous and smart.. but you can’t say I didn’t dress the part!”
Oh, if only he knew that her opinion about his stolen jacket was hardly lukewarm! Thrilled enough that she hadn’t called security on his lying ass (or had she?), he squeezed before letting go.
“Hang tight. I just need a sec.”
Climbing to the top of their table, he tapped his champagne glass for the attention of all those present, spilling some in the process.
“Attention, ladies and gentlemen!” Your entertainment for the evening!
“..Rich people, am I right?”
There were a few nervous laughs, but most patrons were skeptical of the youth interrupting their dinner with pointless shenanigans.
Regardless, the true purpose of his grandstanding would soon be made clear.
“I have a message from Abbadon!”
It turned out the cynics were on to something (something foul), as he waited until enough eyes were on him before shedding the ugly garment and.. his pants.
“Come and kiss it!”
The collective gasp that followed was more than worth missing out on the rest of their meal, and he got that shit for free!
Once satisfied with the absolute chaos of the dining room, he took Zaffre by the wrist and made for the nearest exit.. but not before swiping a lobster from the same couple he yoinked the bouquet of roses.
“I dedicate this lobster to the streets!”
Naturally, he pitched it through a glass window before dashing out the door. Here’s to hoping Zaffre could run in heels!
ZAFFRE
As extraordinary an entertainer Zaffre is, she was also a wonderful audience, and gave Jethro the limelight as he displayed his craft. When the man solemnly begged for secrecy, Zaffre gave him a firm nod. “Cross my heart,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, making cross gestures across her breast.
Once Jethro started to understand that Zaffre knew, she felt she owed him an explanation, and it would be poor payment to beat around the bush. She leaned forward conspiratorially, whispering. “I’m afraid your face is known, honey. I recognized you the minute I saw you.” Imposters don’t last long, sweet red. “Don’t worry. I won’t snitch if you won’t.”
Zaffre had no idea how chaotic Jethro truly was, not until he took it upon himself to rise up on their table. It was easy to capture everyone’s attention without the use of the glass, because nobody in their right minds would actually copy what Jethro was doing! Unable to stop herself from gasping and smiling (a little bit out of embarrassment, shock, and surprise all at once), the Companion stage-whispered up at him. “What are you doing, get down from there!” There was no stopping this red force of nature; he was already four dimensions ahead. Then the patrons were blessed by Jethro’s ass, which only made Zaffre clap her hands over her face to stifle a snicker. “BOLD!” She yelled at him, drowned easily by the uproar of everyone else.
Wrist taken, Zaffre had no choice but to follow along, completely ABASHED at what was happening, but she didn’t stop it. She let out a little yelp when Jethro yeeted the lobster through the window.
Meanwhile, as they escaped through the exit, a tall, handsome gentleman sidestepped as the pair pushed through. “Lady Zaffre?” He could have sworn that was a blur of blue hair that almost smacked him in the face. He tried to crane his neck over a throng of outraged people to find her. “Wait, our—our meeting—Zaffre?! I think—I think she’s being kidnapped!”
Uh, oh.
Zaffre heard the (familiar) voice, a dawning realization making her scowl. “Ah, shit.” Zaffre! How uncouth! “Run faster, Shoulder Pads!” She huffed along, her heels clacking, but damn that ho can run. “Before he catches us! Yes, you, holding my wrist, unless you got a real name I can call you, because we just ran past Mr. Volante back there, and we definitely don’t want to get caught!”
Needless to say, Zaffre was enjoying this.
JETHRO
Her oath of secrecy was appreciated, but not nearly to the extent of his acknowledged infamy. God damn it, Jeth! Did you really have to be such a sussy baka?
So his face was familiar, was it?
“Guess that makes both of us famous! But, you know.. you could always get to know it better..” he glimpsed over his shoulder (sans hideous pads) to smirk at her. Bold and brash, this Sidewinder belonged in the trash!
Smashing a window and kidnapping a celebrity were two wildly different charges, and Jethro wasn’t sure the latter was the greatest look for him OR the Sidewinders (cue Percy witnessing the mess unfold live on The Gold Digger’s TV—whoops)! Nonetheless, his taunt to the real Mr. Volante—who was admittedly less fat and old than he was expecting)—wasn’t exactly reassuring:
“Ya snooze, ya lose, fed!”
So he ran until the glitzy name brand boutiques were demoted to pawn shops and liquor stores. When he swerved down a dark, dead end alley, Zaffre wasn’t likely to comply due to the imminent danger within, but Jethro wouldn’t be deterred!
“It’s Kilroy.. Kilroy Axelrad!”
Now, where was that.. aha! Reaching for his blaster pistol, he took aim at the drop ladder locked several feet above them. It dismounted with a crash, and he beckoned her to go ahead.
“Almost there, Z! Ladies first!”
How chivalrous! Try not to think too hard about the why, my dear Zaffre, as if the sirens were any indication, the coppers were closing in fast!
ZAFFRE
“Oh no, don’t tease him! Do you have a death wish?” Kilroy knew not the power of this Galaxy Federation agent, thus the reason Zaffre thought it wise to book it rather than dilly-dally when the merciless lawmaker was right there to witness it all.
When they paused even for just a moment, Zaffre’s huge bosom heaved as she caught up her breath. She fanned herself with her manicured hand, using the other to fuss with her curls. “I have no qualms getting to know you, Mr. Axelrad,” Zaffre smirked, knowing exactly what he meant. Did he know exactly what she meant?
Oh, dear. Seems like Mr. Volante was quick to call in the Peacekeepers, whom were now hot on their trail. The Companion looked quite giddy, like she was at a theme park rather than about to get in some serious trouble.
Zaffre gasped when Kilroy produced a blaster pistol and used it to drop the ladder down. She quickly covered her ears. “Are you always this mischievous, Mr. Axelrad?” Zaffre laughed, hardly daring to believe that this is happening.
The red Sidewinder attempted to be polite and let the lady go up first. Giving him a knowing glance, she did as he bade, and carefully started climbing up. “Getting a good eye full, are you, darling?” If Kilroy was looking up her dress, he’d probably get a peek of lacy unmentionables (unless the faux wind slapped sparkling silk into Kilroy’s face instead, barring his view). “Oh—!” Zaffre’s stiletto slipped off, much like Cinderella at the ball, and tumbled down the ladder. Hopefully that didn’t smack Kilroy in the face, either.
“Come on, Mr. Axelrad! Forget about my shoe!” Zaffre had already clambered over to the top and stretched out her hand to him.
JETHRO
Death wish, smesh smish! When no public servant nor written law would contain him, they (he) didn’t call him (self) Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad for nothing!
“He kept you waiting long enough, anyways! Just say you needed some fresh air!”
It should have been impossible given his mechanical augmentations that Jethro was left winded, but the spectacle of her panting with exertion brought to mind another exercise they could employ together. The air was thicker and his pants tighter as he cleared his throat.
“You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”
Choosing not to concede to the enlightened glance she gave him, the Sidewinder asserted his oath of innocence until the very end.
“Yeah, the stars are beautiful tonight!” The ones shimmering on her posterior, that is. Given the immense light pollution, the true night sky was blanketed by a rusty haze.
Sputtering as the sparkly fabric slithered its way into his gaping mouth, Jethro’s devilry was repaid in full as the heel sliced his temple open on the way down.
“Ppppbb-bbbp-woah!” he cried, watching as the priceless footwear tumbled behind a dumpster, “Shit!”
Snatching her hand, he hoisted himself the rest of the way up. Contrary to the deepness of the cut, no blood prickled or poured out. He promptly cupped the wound, concealing the glint of metal between his quivering fingers. And to think, just as he was getting over the whole no head of hair thing..
Standing resolutely apart, Jethro was also struggling to come to terms with his rotten luck. Unless she forcibly held him still, any attempts to get a closer look would be thwarted.
“H-hey! Check it out!” he jabbed towards the far edge of the building from where the city’s skyline was most visible.
ZAFFRE
“I suppose that’s a good plan as any… ’fresh air’, the Companion snorted, but not unkindly. “That, he did.” This was followed up with a little sigh. “I don’t hold his lateness against him, but I do really loathe to be kept waiting. That meeting was supposed to decide… hmm.” Zaffre’s voice trailed away; it would not do to bore the obviously free spirited man to tears.
Kilroy’s injury naturally attracted the nurturing Companion, who insisted worrying over the cut on his head. “It’s alright, I just want to see if it’s a deep cut is all,” she cooed softly. “Oh…” She saw no blood where his hand attempted to hide the wound. Zaffre knew insecure men, but never knew one to be so insecure about a cut, bald head aside.
“I am so sorry, darling. The damn thing hurt to walk in, anyway.” Zaffre immediately relieved herself of the other stiletto, trying to punch down her feelings as she abandoned her thousands of dollars worth of asteroid-mined crystal studded shoes. What would Mylo say? Zaffre thought it best never to mention her betrayal to him, lest he dies of shock.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” The Companion closed the gap between them, her warmth surely washing over the Sidewinder. The outside temperature dropped, as it does in a desert environment, which meant the air would be enough to give goosebumps. Tenderly, she would try to take Kilroy’s hand away from his head. “You don’t need to hide from me, Mr. Axelrad. I am sure you have nothing I’ve never seen before.” Cough. “Don’t worry, I won’t laugh. Although…” The Sorashi peered out into the night air, watching the search party commence. “It seems as if you and I landed ourselves into a heap of trouble.”
Zaffre indulged Kilroy by observing the skyline. “It is something. You get a whole different perspective up here.”
JETHRO
In a galaxy fraught with machines and their masters, his plight was anything but unique..
But it Jethro, it was everything.
To state he was mortified as the false skin split further open by the stretch of his grimace was putting it gently.
“I-I’m human, okay? Just had.. an accident.”
A freak accident.
Oh, how he wished that were the case. The scalpel that cut him from head to toe was purposeful, nearly artistic in its incision. If brutality was an artform, his body was the canvas.
Visions of their eventual embrace dissipated into those of Zaffre cradling his severed head: This is it. This is me. This is all am.
For the way he recoiled from her caring touch, she might as well have nudged him with a cattle prod.
“..Sorry..”
Since when did the Kilroy “Danger” Axelrad apologize? Flighty and uncertain, Jeth was officially off his game. If this was a prank, he would have seized their proximity as his chance to kiss her.
But.. no.
“..Yeah.. t’sfine..” he mumbled, hands positively magnetic in their gravitation towards his face.
He had to stop. He had to breathe. He was ruining everything. Jethro hadn’t spirited the prima donna away for an impromptu therapy session.
“Should’ve kept that jacket..” he chuckled, lacking the faintest idea of how she despised it. As his breath manifested in short, puffy clouds, the Sidewinder wasn’t so preoccupied with fashion as he was keeping her warm.
And speaking of a new perspective..
“No shade, but.. you’re way cooler than I thought you were. I mean.. since you hang out with some real snobs.. just figured you were one, too,” he shrugged.
There was a distinct fissure between where they’d come from and where they now stood, perched, watching, and waiting. He traced the horizon with his finger, landing on the site of their date-not-date, reduced to scarce more than a blip on his radar.
“Not so impressive anymore, huh?” he slung an arm over her shoulders, “Not compared to.. that!”
Swiping a page from the sparkling statues of the upper crust that brought a crystal tear to Swarovski’s eye, the swan in flight was welded entirely from scrap metal sold by the pennies.. yet managed to capture the bird’s likeness to a far greater extent—down to the very feather—a testament to the resourcefulness and resolve of the community in whose plaza it was built.
ZAFFRE
You’re better off,” Zaffre teased, glad to dislodge that abominable jacket from their lives forever. She would rather freeze her buns off than to let if fall on her shoulders. “Worry not, darling. I will find you better threads worthy of your adventurous candor.” No sarcasm here. Zaffre meant what she said. If she could get away with it, Kilroy might find himself the object of her shopping obsession in the near future—and a much needed trip to Give An Inch.
Where Kilroy had strayed from his mojo, Zaffre rose to shine in the social spotlight. Far too used to situations like these, the ‘now what’s’ or ‘this hadn’t gone as planned’ didn’t phase the Companion. Every gesture was one with compassion and grace—Kilroy’s emotions and concerns would be in good hands.
Many who insist that they are human had a reason to—Zaffre couldn’t help but think that maybe the reason why the red Sidewinder was keen to proclaim himself human with vehemence might have something to do with Lux. Fearful of their oppression made perfect sense, having had an unfortunate personal connection with them in the past. It was little wonder Zaffre pondered this, and she would not deny him. Human or no, she didn’t seem to care.
The Companion looked on, manifesting concern from hidden thought, imploring with her hands, but ultimately keeping them close to her chest. “Oh, sweets. You needn’t tell me, I can see that you are, and so much more. Please, do not worry, Ravíma.” Oh. Oh, dear. Kilroy had been nicknamed. Then there was a little smile, teasing. “I never kiss and tell. What secrets you bear will be treated with confidence.”
The smile the Sorashi bore was serene, and kind. “In my experience, there is no greater reward than giving people a chance.” She turned to look at Kilroy for a brief moment, her eyes, which harbored a soft glow in the night, seemed to sparkle. “You never know how someone might surprise you. What I thought was a sly little mouse turned out to be one of the most adventurous, unapologetic people I’ve ever met. You mooned them… I cannot believe…” Zaffre resorted to snickering behind her hand. “I wish I was more like that. I suppose that is why… mm…” Her voice faded away as her thoughts drifted to the unconventional people in her life, who were not entirely what you call normal. Zaffre was drawn to that crowd, like a caged bird fascinated by the freedom of these wild animals.
Kilroy thinking that Zaffre was actually cool earned a laugh. “Am I? That is the biggest compliment anyone has ever given me.” She beamed at him, then it faded slightly. “I was free of all this riff-raff, once. For a little while. It was… nice, while it lasted. But then the past caught up with me, and I tumbled down the rabbit hole all over again only to come back out as the White Queen.” There was something deeply cultured about the way Zaffre spoke of the well-known human story of Alice in Wonderland. Even so, it was not quite to her taste. There was a frown. “Freedom, apparently, is far too high a price for a Companion.” The smile returned, more reassuring for herself than anything else. “Worry not, sweets. At least you have your freedom. Never squander it. How else could I live vicariously through you?”
Zaffre’s luminous eyes followed the Sidewinder’s gesture out into the open air, where all laid bare below them. The arm was not unwelcome, and she pulled in close to see where he was pointing. “Oh, my, will you look at that. What remarkable art!” The way she spoke, clearly swans held some significance to the Swan Queen herself. “That would look stunning in my front yard. I wonder whom they commissioned for it?”
JETHRO
“What’s wrong with my jacket, huh?” he crossed his arms.
Truth be told, there wasn’t much to be offended by when it wasn’t his to begin with. When it came to two-armed garments that fit his frame, the selection from which he stole was sorely lacking!
“I ‘borrowed’ it, okay? No way they’d let me in otherwise! I’d dress like a clown if it meant a chance to see you!” Honk, honk!
If being reduced to guinea pig meant coming together in the near future, Jethro would endure! This is what he told himself, having not the smallest notion of Mylo’s existence or what being subjected to the pair’s experimentation could mean for him.
“Yeah.. Rav.. whatever you said,” he echoed, dreamily.
Jethro didn’t need to understand what she was calling him to fanboy over the fact that the Lady Director had bestowed him with his own honorary title. In lieu of that earlier mishap, things were on the mend for our hero in red!
And would you look at that! The more she spoke of his virtues, the redder he became! What.. what was this? Zaffre was too thoughtful, too understanding, just too downright.. nice to him.
As warmth flooded his cheeks, it became increasingly apparent that the playboy was in over his head. He held some sway over young and impressionable girls, but Zaffre was a woman.. and a professional, at that.
As he never touched a single novel throughout his high school career, her reference was lost on him.. but Jethro didn’t need to study Carroll to grasp the plight that weighed heavy on her shoulders.
“Hey,” he licked his lips, no longer shying away as he spun from the statue to make eye contact, ”I can make you one—a swan, anything you want—take you anywhere you want to go..”
There was a hopeful lilt to his voice, as if the solution was as easy as opening the door.
“Kiss and tell..? But we haven’t even kissed yet..”
ZAFFRE
“Oh—n-nothing…” Zaffre awkwardly cast away her gaze to the sky, sucking in her lips, a tell-tale sign that she might not be very truthful. “Borrowed?” Now she looked back at her so-called kidnapper, smirking. “I see…” Poor, desperate fool, she thought.
Zaffre had Kilroy’s attention in return. The offer lit up her face. “You can make a swan, Mr. Axelrad? How sweet of you! It would mean the world to me.” But then her face fell, in what could be described as one overcome with guilt. “But—oh, I mustn’t, I’m undeserving!” She shied away, drawing the back of her delicate hand to her face as if she might faint.
“Oh… darling, I simply cannot bear it a moment longer! These feelings… you must know, you must!” Was this really happening? “Oh, but what you will think of me!” It was like straight from a cinematic love story, complete with a compelling John William’s score: Zaffre, whipping around to face the city, curls drifting in the breeze, and her silks whispering against her bare feet and legs. A picture of heart-pounding Oscar-worthy drama, as it were. What were these feelings?! What could she mean…?
“Mr. Axelrad…” Zaffre gave an exhilarating twirl, holding her hands out to him. The wind picked up, followed by a strong light that fell upon her to add to the mood. Wait, where did that wind come from? That light? Ah, nevermind; it must all be a hallucinogenic high borne from lovesick fools. You can almost hear the heart-wrenching rise in the music. “Your jacket…” What? “…is *atrocious.” You can almost hear the record player scratching to an abrupt halt. The Companion slapped a hand over her mouth and gave a squeak, then went for his hands. “It’s the truth, Ravíma! There, I said it…” Zaffre gasped for air as if she had run a marathon. “Please understand it is no judgment of your character, but knowing you chose that—to only ‘borrow’ it as you say—I couldn’t live with the guilt by lying to you, I really do think it looks quite terrible on your frame, and those shoulder pads…” Saying those last two words was like swallowing a lemon.
“Darling, if you truly mean to take me anywhere, let us go…” Badump, badump, badump… “…shopping. Please, let me dress you.”
WHAT.
By the way, it is highly important to note that the dramatic spotlight had come from a quiet hovercraft that swept over them, the wind caused from its rotor blades. Had they been found? Oh, dear.
JETHRO
Considering his wishy-washy sense of commitment, Jethro tried to leave little room for doubt—even as Zaffre hemmed and hawed over her jaw-dropping revelation—that he meant to keep good on his promise.
“It’ll be the best damn swan you’ve ever seen,” he doubled down as she curiously second guessed herself. What in the galaxy could cause the companion’s confidence to waver so?
The truth had a funny way of coming out. Though she had since ditched them, his heart cracked like glass under heel.
Atrocious, huh..?
Cut, cut, cut! This was the part where our beautiful yet unattainable heroine confessed her forbidden love to the bold and courageous hero! Zaffre had it all wrong!
She.. she’d heard him, hadn’t she? Unless.. he’d made so terrible an error that no further effort on his part could erase its impact.
Jethro recalled something an ex-fling mentioned about tigers and stripes and—oh god—what had he been expecting? Nothing like a near tryst to make the heart grow fonder of the person that’d seen him dressed in rags and judged not (okay, maybe a little bit).
“But.. I thought..”
See, that was his first mistake. It was better to leave the heavy thinking to the professionals.
He shook his head. The biggest crush in the universe couldn’t keep him from second guessing his pursuit up to that point.. Thankfully, the arrival of the police saved him the trouble of finding the words she was looking for.
“This is the end of line for me. Stay beautiful!” he waved before diving off the building into a dumpster below. There was no greater indication of the world between them yet than his willingness to do so.
Rolling off the bags that cushioned his fall, the cyborg didn’t stick around to see what happened next. Hopefully Zaffre thought to make the coppers call off their pursuit!
ZAFFRE
Zaffre knew something was wrong, she could sense it on Red’s face. Before anything else could be done, a question, a compassionate approach—Kilroy thought it best to run in the opposite direction.
“Wait a moment—“
It was a bit too late; the Peacekeepers had already found her, but seemed to lose trail of the slippery Sidewinder whom managed to escape on time.
Putting on her public face, Zaffre waited for the Peacekeepers to descend. The photographers flashed their cameras, the reporters swarmed in, but the straight-backed Companion Director kept a straight face.
“I was not kidnapped,” was all she said to them. Any charges put forth on the mysterious Kilroy Axelrad was dropped, and they would not pursue him further. The details of their flight from Spellbound could only be speculated from this point on. Nobody could accept Zaffre’s truth; and where ignorance thrived, so too did the conspiracies and rumors.
Zaffre would never forget him. But she did forget about her stiletto.
