Xora 2 - "Dangerous Game"

by Brandy Dewinter

 

Chapter 9 - "Reputation"

"Sign here, please . . . and here . . . and we need a thumbprint here," the bustling clerk said.

Oops. I sent a quick thought to my hidden partner, *Do we still have thumbprints, Ti?*

"Got it covered," she assured me. She vanished the appearance of gloves on my hands and I pressed my thumb in the ink, then let the clerk roll it on his form. After that ancient ritual, I busied myself with the cleaner they provided, trying to get off the ink that had just been put on.

"I can take care of that for you," Ti offered.

*I’m sure you can, but they don’t know that.*

"Oh, right," she said. "Well, put on a good show and I’ll take care of the rest."

It had been three days since we had returned from Sstton’s hunting ground. Every bit of those three days had been spent in hearings, and preliminary hearings, and inquests and depositions and whatever else bureaucrats can invent.

On the other hand, the nights had been interesting. It was a good thing I didn’t need much sleep anymore. "You’re welcome." *Yes, dear, thank you.* Poor Darius was looking postively frayed about the edges. Of course, I’d feel a lot more sympathy if he wasn’t grinning all the time. I had the feeling his reputation was taking a bit of a beating.

Or maybe it was being enhanced.

"You realize," the clerk interrupted my reverie, "that you’ll have to come back for the actual trials."

I let a few of my recent memories float into my eyes and into my voice and purred, more to Darius than the clerk, "Oh, I suppose I could find my way back here."

It always surprised me how such a big, rugged man could look so much like a little boy. A very pleased little boy.

"He’s hardly ‘little’," Ti snickered.

*Just his expression, you pervert,* I said with my own giggle.

"Pervert?! I’m not the one who . . ."

*Shhhh,* I hissed at her. *Mind your own business.*

Her response was cut off by a whispered chuckle shared among the men of Helmen’s squad, who had been completing their own formal statements. I wasn’t sure if Darius or I were the subject of the laughter. And I didn’t care.

The laughter ended though, when the clerk said, "Well, that completes what we need from you before the trial. Thank you very much for your help."

That sounded like a dismissal, probably because it was. Everyone started shuffling out of the office. As soon as we were back in the corridor, I found Darius’ arm around me. Again.

*You never did get it right,* I thought to Titania.

"What?"

*His hugs are *much* nicer than yours.*

"They are?" she said, then answered her own question, "Ah, well, I’m forced to admit I agree."

When I looked up at my big escort again, the smile had disappeared from his face for the first time in, well, three days. As he gently steered me toward the transporter room, I remembered why. The end of the bureaucratic formalities meant I was now free, no, I was now required to return to my own headquarters. I had known this was coming, but in a surprising bit of self-deception I hadn’t let myself think about it until that very moment.

*Did you have anything to do with that?* I asked Titania.

"No. I can work a bit on your emotions, but I never have controlled your basic thoughts."

*That’s what I figured,* I thought with a sigh. No one to blame but myself.

Well, and maybe Darius. He could be quite, um, distracting at times.

Not this time, though. He stayed focused on duty and we were soon at the place where we had met.

"I imagine you’re anxious to get back," he said quietly.

"Yes, just let me know as soon as the trial is scheduled," I said.

He smiled, with a sad sort of smile that warmed his deep eyes without any real light of joy. "No, I meant get back to your headquarters."

"Oh, that."

With the transporter technician as audience, his words were carefully formal. "I hope you have enjoyed your stay on Teton. Perhaps the more recent memories have helped put the unpleasant parts into perspective."

Well, screw the formality . . .

"And the horse it rode in on," Titania interrupted me with a snicker.

I reached my arms up to Darius’ neck and lifted my lips to meet his own descending ones. Once upon a time, I’d have thought that kissing someone would become sort of, oh, routine or something. But the more I kissed Darius, the more exciting it became. I even got used to the whiskers.

"Do you suppose that might have something to do with becoming conditioned to see that as a prelude to, um . . . ?" Titania whispered in my ear.

*Hush, I’m busy,* I thought to her, then gave Darius my full, undivided attention.

The transporter technician coughed, returning us to the less-interesting world, and reported, "The coordinates for Commander Xora’s vessel are all set. She can go any time."

"I guess we’ve run out of excuses," I said.

"I guess so," Darius agreed.

Stepping to the transporter pad, I opened my mind to the call-girl training and let the sensuality show. My hips slid out to the side, and my head tilted, letting a thick lock of hair do a sultry peekaboo trick. The pout that formed on my lips was not entirely artifice, but it added to the image in a way that distracted the technician and brought a nicely wistful look to Darius.

"Think about me once or twice while I’m gone," I suggested, blowing him a kiss as the shimmer formed.

As soon as we were in the runabout, Ti asked me to replicate some materials she needed, ones that we could hardly ask for in our meals.

While the replicator was processing, she said, "If you’re going to chase only primitive men, we might have to think about low-tech sources of supply."

"Primitive men?"

She said, "Well, Machovia is certainly not at the cutting edge of societal evolution, and you found Eryx there. And here on Teton, where they deliberately hold their technology down, you did more than just ‘find’ Darius. You seem to be attracted to primitive men."

"What about Jonesy? He’s hardly primitive."

Ti pounced on that statement. "So, you are interested in Jonesy?"

I tried to make some sort of recovery. "Uh, no, that’s not really what I meant. It’s just that you keep bringing him up."

My recovery didn’t work. Ti shot it down immediately with an observation. "After you get aroused by him. I can feel that interest even before it shows on the outside. Though, it certainly does show."

"That’s because you dress me in these skin-tight outfits all the time."

"Oh, you love it and we both know it. Your satisfaction when you see yourself in a mirror shows just as clearly as your arousal."

I tried to put her on the defensive, "Are you saying that I’m conceited?"

That didn’t work, either. "What’s your human expression, ‘If the shoe fits’ . . .? Or maybe, ‘If the high heel fits’ would be a better way to say that."

"You’re the one that made me beautiful," I said. "And you wouldn’t change me back into a man."

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

"Is that what you’re offering?" I gasped.

"If that’s what you want," she said. "I told you I would help you with the physical things that you need. At the time, I thought - I still think I was right - that you needed to open your perspectives. Changing your gender was a way to blast you out of your rut."

I interrupted, "It did that, for sure."

Her mental nod allowed her to get back to her main point, "You’ve done that, now. You move as sensually as any woman I’ve seen, more so even than Tryx. You obviously understand what sex as a woman is like, which was something I wanted as well. You seem to have accepted the role of a fun-loving, vivacious woman. Everything I thought you needed has been met. So . . ."

"So . . .?" I repeated.

She said, "So. You know that large changes will take a few days, but you can be as big as Darius if you give me the materials."

"Oh,’ I said. My mind was churning with the offer she had made. I guess my impending return to Jones’ headquarters wasn’t the only thing I had been hiding from, within my own mind. I realized the question was valid. I certainly *had* wanted a male body back. What had changed?

Was it only sex as a woman? I hoped not. I hoped I was not so shallow that mere physical pleasure was enough to make me lose my fundamental identity. Or gain it. What *did* I want? I thought back over my experiences since Titania had entered my life, and my body. Some were unpleasant; even unpleasant strictly because I looked like a woman as on Machovia. Some were wonderful, and again because I was a woman, as with Darius. But those wonderful experiences had counterparts for men, counterparts that might be just as good. And I expected that Admiral Jones would find assignments for us that were just as bad for a man as those I had experienced in my present form.

The old me certainly had never experienced a physical relationship as intense as the one I had shared with Darius. But I had a feeling Ti could fix that, too, with a little time to turn me into some sort of Adonis. And more importantly, with the change in attitude I had learned to appreciate. Life truly was a lot more fun than I had imagined.

I asked Titania, "What do you think I should do?"

"After all the times you’ve complained when I’ve helped you with your body, now you want my advice?" she said.

"There’s a difference between making an arbitrary decision on something that affects us both, and discussing something," I said.

"Oh, and when you just did what you thought was best, after you got your communicator back, without ‘discussing’ your decision with either Darius or me, how was that different?"

"Look, Ti, maybe I should have asked. But the decision was obvious.

This decision is not."

"It would have been obvious at one time," she said.

I nodded and said, "Yes, it would have been. But I’ve changed. And part of that change, a very important part of that change, is you. So, answer the question, what do you think we should do?"

This time, Titania didn’t respond quickly. At whatever level we could perceive each other, even without deliberate thought, I could tell she was really thinking about it. Finally, she said, "I honestly don’t know. I know I was curious about a woman’s experiences. They seemed much more interesting than what a man might do. And frankly, I realize that in part I just wanted to, well, be in charge of our body. To let you know that you had to respect me. Changing your gender, even if I really thought it was an improvement, had some of that in it, too. Now, I guess I just don’t know. Maybe I’ve changed, too, since we’ve been together."

"Why, Ti, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me," I said with an internal smile. "Sometimes I get the opinion that I’m dreadfully below your standards."

"Sometimes you are," she said, snickering.

"Why you arrogant, self-centered . . ." I began.

"Yes," she said, interrupting me, "I’m all of that. But I think you’re getting better."

I spluttered to a stop, then blushed as the humor in her mind made it clear she was just trying to lighten the mood. I suppose it worked, but I still hadn’t made up my mind when we entered orbit and were cleared to re-enter with little delay. Maybe I was just stalling again.

Or maybe my subconscious was trying to get me to put off the decision until I received a critical input. Because as soon as we landed and I left the runabout, I saw a passenger shuttle discharging a group of revelers who were apparently out for a night on the town. The men were dressed nicely, but it was the women’s attire that caught my eye and my mind like a magnet. One shapely woman in particular had a figure-hugging evening gown that caused highlights from about the bay to dance and swirl with each step she made.

And that reminded me of the one dance I had shared with Darius, where I could concentrate on grace while he led us around the floor. I had never felt graceful before that moment. I had moved sensually, when I was in the grip of my impressed call-girl reflexes, and I know it looked graceful in the extreme. But I had never *felt* graceful until I was dancing in an elegant gown, in the arms of a big, handsome man. Maybe I would be that man, someday, with the confidence that Darius had shown, but . . .

But I knew it would be a long time before I would have the confidence in myself, as a person, that I would need to take on the masculine role with anything like that easy power. And I enjoyed the feeling of being "beautiful" in a way that transcended gender too much to give that up.

Should I stop being a pretty woman so that I start all over again, learning how to be a suave, charismatic man instead? Had Xora, the old Xora, ever had an ounce of charisma?

"Stop," Titania said sharply. "I am not going to let you talk yourself into something by running down the memory of who you were before. Which is a big part of who you are now, in fact, and always will be. Yes, the woman you are is prettier and more outgoing than the man you were. But I am here, too, and I am part of that change. I will always be part of you. And I can be part of a change just as dramatic if you choose a masculine appearance."

She was right, of course. I had been trying to force the decision without really facing it. *Thanks, Ti,* I thought. *Right again, as usual.*

But recognizing that I was trying to force the decision was all it took to make my choice obvious. If I wanted to justify continuing as a woman so badly, then there was no compelling reason any longer to rush the change back into being a man. Even if I didn’t understand why, I might as well admit it and get on with things.

"That’s my girl!" Titania said happily.

*Huh?* I said distractedly. Then said, *Ti, I thought you said you couldn’t decide what we should do. If you had wanted us to stay female, why did you ever bring up changing back?*

"Oh, I knew what I wanted. I just didn’t know what would be best for you. Besides I wanted you to want it, too, dummy. This partnership is a lot easier if we’re both playing on the same side."

*Um, yeah, well, that’s hard to argue with. So does that mean you won’t manipulate me again? Or do the lockup thing? That’s one I really hate.*

"Of course," she assured me, but I caught the tone.

*Titania!* I thought sternly.

Her mental tone became meek, but it sounded artificial. Then her words confirmed the hidden caveat I suspected, "Unless it’s necessary, of course."

*Damnit, Titty, I thought we agreed you weren’t going to be playing around with my body without my consent.*

"Then be a little more agreeable," she said. "And don’t call me, Titty."

*I’ll call you worse than that if you keep meddling," I promised.

Her response was a quick, *very* effective caress/pinch/squeeze/ lick sensation that literally stopped me in my tracks. Then she giggled.

*You have *got* to stop doing that,* I gasped.

"Oh, you enjoyed it," she said smugly.

"There is a time and place for things, and this is not it," I said, resuming my walk toward Jonesy’s office.

"The only place I ever am is where you are, and . . ." Ti said.

I managed to derail that train of thought by reaching Jonesy’s office. The outer door whisked open at my approach and I nodded to the robosec on my way to his inner office.

"Good evening, Commander Xora," the robosec said brightly - like she said every word she had ever uttered.

"Good evening. I need to see Admiral Jones."

"He’s busy right now. Would you like to make an appointment?"

It made me mad. Maybe I was just trying to find an excuse not to face Titania alone again. But after all I had been through, I figured Jonesy owed me an immediate audience. Or at least he should have told his robosec not to treat me like some itinerant peddler or something.

So I walked over to the door to the inner office and growled, "Either you let me through this door, or I’m going to kick it in."

Memo to self: A threatening tone has little effect on a robosec.

Luckily, Jonesy heard me through the door and it whisked open in front of me.

"Come in, Commander Xora," he said politely.

When I entered, I saw Commander Tryx lounging in his visitor’s chair. She had a deep, rich tan that looked spectacular against her blonde hair, which reminded me of how much more pleasant her assignment had been than the one assigned to me by Jonesy.

I launched my attack before he even had a chance to defend himself, "Damnit, Jonesy, you promised me I wasn’t going to be tied up again. And spending the night in the swamp with *things* crawling all over me was even worse!"

He tried to placate me, standing and offering to shake my hand. "I know, and I truly am sorry. I never expected it to come to that."

Then he tried flattery, "Though I must say, you performed magnificently. According to the report, you solved their most famous crime, and personally broke up the kidnap and murder ring of the most nefarious Teton criminal. You’re getting quite a reputation."

"What? Oh, well, that was mostly Darius, that is, Inspector Darius of their Council Investigation something-or-other."

"Hmmm," Jonesy mused, "this report is signed by an Inspector Darius, and he is most adamant about giving you the credit."

By now, Tryx had moved around to where I was standing. With a part of my mind I was prepared to avoid shaking hands with her so that she wouldn’t get a download through Bee of what had happened, at least, not all of it. But instead of a prim handshake, she reached her arms out to me in sympathy for my ordeal. I guess there was enough of the old Xora in me that there was no way I was going to turn down the chance to hold those spectacular curves in my own embrace, so before I knew what was happening, I was snuggled up to the gorgeous blonde. Of course, our symbionts’ ability to share information was not limited to hand contact.

"What do you mean, ‘old Xora’?" Ti asked. "You still want her just as bad as ever."

Um, yes, well, maybe we need to reconsider this appearance thing, I said.

"Why?" Ti asked, but before I had a chance to answer, Tryx stepped back and started chuckling, then giggling, then laughing so hard she had to collapse back into her chair.

Her laughter had that infectious quality that makes it just about impossible not to join. In a heartbeat Ti was hooting in my ear and I felt myself being swept up into an uncontrollable giggle myself that quickly escalated until I had to find my own seat. Everyone was laughing like drunken monkeys - except for Jonesy.

"What is the matter?" Jones asked.

I had to avoid his eyes, but the only other place my eyes seemed to be able to look was at Tryx, and her own eyes met mine with a smirk that set us both off again.

Finally, Tryx managed to get herself together enough to say, "Before you apologize *too* much, ask her what happened *after* she took care of the crime lord."

"Xora?" Jonesy said, the irritation obvious in his tone, and in the deep furrow of his frown.

I tried to get myself back under control to report, "Well, I, uh, gave my testimony, and, um . . . "

"And?" Jonesy pushed.

Tryx interrupted any answer I might have made, "And she found the most wonderful, handsome, strong, tall, handsome, sweet, tall, wonderful - did I say handsome? - perfect dream of a guy. I think our Xora enjoyed this assignment a lot more than she’s trying to let on."

I blushed enough to set off the sprinklers. They didn’t go off, though, so something must have been malfunctioning. But blushing was about all I could do. I certainly couldn’t deny it, at least, not without Tryx laughing in my face. Of course, she was doing that anyway.

Jonesy, give him credit, made the next leap of insight on his own, "This Inspector Darius?"

I just nodded, the flames in my cheek unchecked, though I felt my eyes go all heavy-lidded with some memories I didn’t want to share. At least, not with Jonesy.

"Hrrmppff," he grunted. "I was planning on offering you some convalescent leave or something, but it seems that won’t be necessary."

Tryx leaned over and whispered, loudly enough for Jonesy to hear, "Ask him if you can take it on Teton."

"Can I . . ?" I leaped at the chance, too caught up in the idea to realize it was not a real offer.

Tryx laughed again, "Yes, I think we can definitely say she enjoyed her time on Teton."

Jonesy tried once again to get his meeting under control. He seemed to have a lot of trouble with that sort of thing. "Yes, well, in that case, Xora, you report tomorrow to resume your interrupted training."

My shapely blonde colleague swayed to her own impossible heels and urged me to my feet. Taking my arm in hers she said to Jonesy. "Hardly interrupted, Admiral. Let’s just say it was, um, focused in another area."

That set her off again, which got me to giggling too. Tryx gave Jonesy an airy wave of her hand that I supposed might have been some kind of salute. In any event she used it as an excuse to leave.

As we sashayed from Jonesy’s office, she whispered, "Tell me all about him, and what’s so special about primitive men?"

*Titty, did you tell her about that?* I demanded silently.

"Well, sort of," she admitted, then giggled. "But wait till I tell you about the idle rich types she met on her assignment. You may decide primitive men are not your style after all."

"And don’t call me, Titty," she said, belatedly. I wasn’t sure whether she was giving up, or getting used to the name.

Hmm, I wonder if Tryx would find your favorite nickname amusing? I thought to myself.

"Don’t even think about it!" Ti ordered frantically.

I just laughed. Tryx joined in and we sent a carol of merriment down the hallway, leaving a trail of confusion in our wake as men, women, aliens, and robots bumped into each other, dropped things, or just stood and drooled. It was good to be home.

 

 

*********************************************
© 1999 by Brandy Dewinter. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.