Xora 3: Shell Game

by Brandy Dewinter

 

Chapter 14 - "Happy Tails To You"

 

Jonesy was off doing 'Admiral' things when we got back to base, so it was the next morning when Tryx and I rendezvoused outside his office for our report. It was immediately apparent that she had taken advantage of the overnight delay.

*"That's gotta hurt,"* I thought, wincing at sight of a waist so sharply defined. Tryx's contours seemed more dramatic than ever, and even if all she had done was regain where she was before, that was a real challenge for a single night.

*"Oh, it's not that bad,"* Titania protested.

*"It's worse,"* I snapped uncompromisingly.

Any further comment was forestalled by Tryx. She must have noticed my concern at her apparent discomfort. Instead of agreeing with it though, she laughed and counterattacked.

"You know why brunettes are so good at keeping their figures?" she asked mockingly.

I knew I was being set up, but I couldn't refuse to answer her, so I gave her the straight line.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Because no one else *wants* their figures," she delivered the punch line with a laugh.

I just shook my head ruefully, not at all convinced. While her tiny waist was clearly the most dramatic statement she made with her appearance, it was not the only one. What she called her uniform (though there was nothing 'uniform' about her unique costume) had been modified yet again. The top was skin-tight with a high, stiff collar and deep décolletage, but that was more or less normal for her. That was essentially all there was to it, though. Below her waist there was a barely-more-than-thong that left her legs exposed nearly to her . . .

*"Nothing is really exposed, you know, any more than what looks covered is actually fabric,"* Titania pointed out.

*"Who cares what's real?"* I snorted silently. *"She looks like she's about to, um, peek out of that little strip of material at any second, and those boots . . . !"*

Tryx wore thigh-high boots with staggering heels and flashy cuffs. The combination was about as close as she could come to the ponygirl outfit and still be legal in public, except that it was in her favored royal blue color instead of Mordant's preferred scarlet and gold.

*"She didn't even need a hypnodisk to learn your hip swivel,"* Titania pointed out.

*"I don't jerk my hips around like that,"* I insisted. *"I glide with sensuous grace. Everyone says so."*

Titania made a rude . . . something that was a sound and a touch and even a nasty smell.

Well, I couldn't pretend not to notice Tryx's attire, so I said, "Love your boots, but didn't you forget something?"

"What have I forgotten?" she asked with concern. Tryx not perfect? Perish the thought!

"You don't seem to be as, ah, musical as you once did," I pointed out - literally pointing to where she lacked a pair of bells.

*"With the pair she's got I don't think anyone would think she lacks anything,"* Titania snickered.

*"Lacking in taste, maybe,"* I offered.

*"Taste? I thought you liked her taste."*

*"Now that's tacky,"* I replied, then before Titania could point out the proof that I considered Tryx a tasty morsel indeed - my body was certainly offering all the proof she could need - I covered with a compelling argument. *"Besides, she's blonde and you know what they're like!"*

Well, at least it had the merit of tickling Titania's sense of humor. She laughed loudly enough I wondered if it could be heard on the outside. Then I paid a price anyway when she decided I needed some tickling, too.

My own laughter did bubble up and out, but Tryx joined in it as a way to cover a bit of embarrassment. She leaned close to whisper, "They were sort of . . . fun, weren't they?"

"Considering yet another leading edge fashion statement?" I asked, not really answering a question I didn't want to look at too closely.

"Not here in base, but you never know," she teased, winking before twirling with breathtaking grace in her impossible heels to head toward Jonesy's office.

*"I thought you said she was jerky,"* Titania reminded me.

*"What? Oh, yeah. Of course. Not at all, um, . . . "*

Titania's laugh drowned out my thought, which wasn't really going anywhere anyway.

Then the corridor started to shrink a little - yet again - as Titania jacked my own heels up another notch, or two, or three.

*"Damnit, Titania, that's not necessary."*

*"I am *not* going to have her be more . . . noticeable than us,"* she insisted. *"I told you a simple black jumpsuit wasn't good enough."*

*"You call this simple? Spray paint would be less revealing, and the shine lets everyone in three planets track my pulse,"* I countered. *"But you're missing the point. I don't want Tryx to upstage us either. You're just going at it the wrong way."*

*"What?"*

*"Ridiculous heels are *her* trademark,"* I said. *"Just like that impossible waist. We don't want to compete by *her* rules."*

*"I am not letting you go in there wearing flats."*

*"Goodness, Titty babe, there is nothing flat about this body - not anywhere."* Before she could respond I continued, *"But I'm not saying we can't have heels, only that we don't need to make that the measure of how we compete."*

*"Then what *do* we do?"*

*"What else is missing from Tryx's ponygirl costume - besides the bells?"*

*"I thought you hated the bridle thing."*

*"Ti, Ti, when are you going to think about our strengths? Think!"*

*"The only other thing was . . . By the First Morph, Xora, you don't want a *tail* do you?!"*

*"Why not?"* I said, and let a little deliberate smugness into my thought. *"We *do* move more sensuously than she does, and what better way to call attention to it?"*

*"But . . . you don't like it when I make changes to you."*

*"You're right. I *don't* like it when you make unilateral changes *to* me, Ti, but I love it when you make changes *for* me - for us. I wouldn't go back to the old Xora for anything. I'd just like to have a bit of say in what the new one looks like."*

She didn't respond, at least, not with words, but I could feel her concentration like an echo of a headache. Then I could feel something else.

*"What are you doing?"* I demanded.

*"Just what you asked for,"* she claimed. *"I'm growing us a tail."*

*"This doesn't . . . I mean, this feels . . . different."* The sensation was not at all like the feel of the tail that had hung from the back of Mordant's ponygirl outfit. In the first place, it . . . itched where it was . . . attached? I looked back and saw the same flowing waterfall of darkness that I had, um, worn before, but . . .

*"Well, since I'm growing it - as opposed to just attaching something - I decided it might as well work,"* explained Titania with an unsuccessful attempt at innocence laid over a renewed humor.

*"Work?"* I repeated with more than a little trepidation.

*"Yep,"* she said smugly. *"Try it out as you catch up to Tryx."*

As usual, our internal discussion had taken only a few seconds, and it took only a few more for my longer strides to catch up with my blonde colleague. In those few strides though, I felt a silken whisk brush the back of my legs - courtesy of Titania's sensitivity despite the boots I also apparently wore. This time the motion in my tail was not caused only by the movement of my hips. It swung . . . on its own. Really. On its own. Even when I didn't move at all, it still flicked back and forth, causing the ends to fly up and, um, caress my, um, flanks. I could control it, sort of, at least if I concentrated, but as soon as I forgot, it was as likely to twitch into a new ripple as not.

*"What did you do?"* I asked again.

*"I just . . . grew you a tail,"* Titania snickered. *"It's an extension of your own vestigial tail structure. Your 'tailbone' as you call it was most convenient. Even the, ah, reflexes were already wired into place . . . mostly."*

I decided it would *not* be a good idea to pry too deeply into what 'mostly' meant in that context. Besides, we had reached Jonesy's office. I had deliberately stayed just a little behind Tryx so this time she was the first one to enter Jonesy's inner office. I was ready for her to stop in the doorway as I had done the last time, but she was smart enough to know that wasn't likely to work on me. She did stand at attention in front of Jonesy's desk - that was obviously so that he could see the features of her new uniform design. It gave me a chance to take a place next to her and, um, take advantage of my own . . . enhancement.

Jonesy was ostentatiously finishing up something at his computer. That was just as obviously so that he could show who was in charge. Unfortunately, the wait was long enough that I focused on him for a second - and lost control of my tail again. I never could tell if it were just my typical luck or whether Titania caused it - she never admitted anything of course - but the silky mass flicked up on the side Tryx was on and it was *her* flank that got brushed instead of mine. That started a cascade of disaster that began with Tryx's startled *EEEP!* and continued through Jonesy's abrupt rise from his chair.

"Just what in all the nine hells of Valeria is going on here!"

Defeating Tryx's attempt to snatch my tail was my first - and successful - priority. Once I got it back where it belonged, I realized she and Jonesy were expecting an answer to his question, and from me.

"Well," I said slowly, then finished more quickly when the response came to me. "I figured we had a, um, 'tale' to tell, so . . ."

The trio of groans was appropriately horrified, Titania's loudest of all. We will carefully not speculate on any potential that the hollow space between my ears had some sort of amplifying effect.

*"Do not *ever* do that again!"* demanded Titania.

*"Do what?"* I asked innocently. Well, maybe I didn't make the innocent part work very well.

*"Those horrid plays on words. I hate them. They are like . . . like . . . "*

All of the sudden, the pieces fell into place in a new configuration. *"Like when you do your lockup thing on me? Like when you . . . pinch me? Like when you . . . . Titty babe, I always thought you hated your nickname because of the physical connotations. But you really hate puns!"*

*"I most certainly do,"* she snapped. *"I told you that already. I worked hard to learn your language,"* she claimed loftily. *"To hear it twisted like that . . ."*

*"Titty, you're a snob. Puns can be fun! But I will most certainly remember your, ah, reaction,"* I said with deliberate menace in my tone. *"You may just have to deal with . . . disappointments every now and then, hmmm?"*

*"You wouldn't dare,"* she declared, realizing I had not promised to respect her sensibilities.

*"Why not? What can you do to me . . . that you don't *already* do?"*

*"I'll stop,"* she promised.

*"Don't try to lie to your symbiont,"* I told her, catching an underlying tone in her voice that contradicted her words.

*"Well, I mean, unless you really need . . ,"* she started, then interrupted herself in an embarrassed giggle as the silliness of her caveat tickled her own sense of humor.

By this time, Tryx and Jonesy were done with their own expressions of disgust at my pun. I expected Admiral Jones to renew his demand for an explanation of my tail, but he realized there are some things he was better off not knowing. He covered his confusion by walking around his desk and ordering Tryx to report. While she was talking, my stupid tail kept flicking up to brush at my side - or at hers - every time I forgot about it for a second. It wasn't my fault, though. It had a natural, automatic motion without any reinforcement from my hips.

*"Ha! Not much you mean."*

*"I'm just standing here!"* I claimed.

*"Yeah, and for you, standing without a sensual wiggle every now and then is about like Tryx standing without waving her minor planets around."*

*"Well, a girls gotta breathe, doesn't she?"* I snickered, defending Tryx from a charge that was nearly as applicable to me.

*"You two don't,"* Titania pointed out, countering both justifications. *"And if you don't keep your tail under control, I'll give you some help."*

*"You're the one who gave me this silly thing in the first place!"*

*"Because *you* asked for it,"* she crowed triumphantly. Well, I really had walked into that one.

Then it was my turn to distract Jonesy with a not-quite-stifled 'eep.' And it was for the same reason that Tryx had lost her composure earlier. Something hairy had brushed my leg - and this time it wasn't my tail.

It was hers.

Even as she had been reporting to Admiral Jones, she'd been growing a flowing cascade of blonde tail for herself. And, like the capabilities Titania had, ah, discovered in my vestigial components, the one Tryx sported seemed to have a mind of its own.

*"Copycat,"* Titania sneered at Bee. He couldn't hear it, but her disdain probably bridged the gap between us by sheer force of will.

*"I seem to remember pointing out that the real trick is in being the one creative enough to see the need,"* I reminded her.

*"What are you trying to say?"* asked Titania. *"Was that you or me?"*

*"It was *us*, silly,"* I answered.

Once Tryx finished her part of the report and turned the floor over to me, her tail seemed to become especially obnoxious - fluttering up to tickle at the back of my legs, at the front of my legs, at, well, at any place it could reach. And it was a loonnng tail. I couldn't really grab at it, not there in Jonesy's office, so I sent my own tail off in her direction, whipping across her in a way that might have hurt if the thing weren't softer than silk. But hurting her wasn't really what I had in mind. Just the opposite, in fact. If the way hers felt to me was any indication of the way the caress of mine felt to her, it was almost sinfully distracting.

*"I think we can take that as a yes,"* Titania reported smugly after an especially dramatic quiver showed that Tryx was having trouble breathing. And yes, once I allowed myself to look at her . . . breathing I could see some other signs of . . . interest as well.

Then it was my turn to forget about such complicated things as breathing for a timeless moment as Tryx managed to send her tail where . . . well, where it was impolite. At least impolite. Of course, my dear, helpful symbiont did nothing to protect me from the sensation.

*"Let me get this straight. You're complaining because I've made your body - especially the good parts - so wonderfully responsive. Is that right?"*

I didn't answer her. Like I could have anyway. Instead, I gasped and nearly lost my balance, clutching at Tryx to keep my suddenly weak knees from collapsing. That was actually a good idea, because once I had a hold of her I was able to turn her so that her tail didn't reach quite as well as mine did, and then I counterattacked.

As did she. In seconds, we were wrestling for a position of advantage, only to be interrupted by another stentorian bellow from Admiral Jones.

"That's enough! Both of you, stand at attention."

Caught in mid . . . tussle, we both stared at him for a second before rearranging ourselves.

	Caught, we stared at him for a second.

"Both of you, get that competitive idiocy under control. Save it for the bad guys. I want to see you both show some sign of . . . being professionals, dammit. And colleagues."

"What, you mean like . . . kiss and make up?" I asked throatily, letting my eyes half close and languidly licking my lips.

That sent Jonesy's eye-caterpillars on yet another hopeless quest to reach his distant hairline, and prompted a sensual purr from Tryx that made my knees weak all over again.

"If you two weren't so damn effective, I'd send you both to study fermenting swamp gasses - at close range!"

"Been there, done that," I muttered, prompting a snicker from Tryx.

He sighed like the weight of the entire galaxy was on his shoulders, and I felt just a bit of sympathy for him before I saw he was stifling a grin of his own.

*"Stall for just a second,"* Titania said.

*"Why?"*

*"Don't you trust me?"* she asked innocently, but I could tell from her tone that she really thought I'd approve.

Hiding a sigh of my own, I slid an arm out to wrap around Tryx's tiny waist, and said, "But, Jonesy, kissing Tryx would be like kissing my sister, wouldn't it?"

"I'll show you 'sister,'" Tryx promised, snaking her own arms around me, then she distracted herself (dammit!) by exclaiming, "Oh, Xora, that's so sweet!"

'That' was Titania's little surprise. She had changed my tail, or at least the color of it, to match the golden glory flowing from Tryx's . . . um, from Tryx. In a moment, Tryx had made the reciprocal gesture and her tail matched the dark richness of the hair that still draped to my waist.

"Get out of here, both of you," ordered Jonesy. "I'll have regular agents follow up on this Trenco thing, and figure out who or what Boskone is."

"Um, Jonesy?" I asked with a bit more, ah, decorum. (*"Not very much more."* *"That's what I said."*) "What happened to the other girls, and, well, I mean, did you catch him?"

"Oh, yes," he nodded, then archly declared it was our fault he had forgotten to tell us. "If you hadn't been so . . . distracted, I'd have told you what happened. Mordant himself got away, but his henchman - this 'Drem' you reported - was apparently killed in the explosion that you set off to cover your escape. Or I should say, Mordant got away for a little while. But apparently, when it was clear he had no more thionite for them, the women in his, ah, harem turned him in to the Federation. He's claiming he doesn't know anything about Trenco or Boskone, beyond the names themselves, but whether he talks or not, he's not going anywhere for a long time.":

"I could make him talk," I offered sharply, all humor gone at the thought that poison would continue to destroy lives.

"He's in Federation custody," Jonesy said, "and we don't coerce our prisoners."

"What he did was *evil*," I insisted, "not only to the girls, but to everyone else who came in contact with that foul drug. We can't let that continue."

The admiral was adamant. "I don't like it any better than you do, but we can't lay a hand on him."

Tryx picked up on my idea with a way to overcome that constraint. "B . . um, the symbiont race has encountered some really nasty creatures in the galaxy, and we . , um, I could simulate that. Wanna bet I could get him to talk without laying a single, ah, tentacle on him?"

"That's not good enough," I growled. "The drug is the problem, and that's the threat we should use. Let me take some thionite down there. I'll get him to talk."

"We can't addict him to thionite," Jonesy insisted.

"Watch me," I snarled.

"The Federation does not threaten our prisoners," Admiral Jones snapped with equal intensity.

"You know that, and I know that . . ," I said suggestively. "Besides, it wouldn't be a threat. It would be a promise."

"Oh, yeah," Tryx confirmed. "We wouldn't actually have to threaten him . . . exactly. We could provide a very convincing demonstration, then wave a fake powder around."

*"It wouldn't need to be fake,"* Titania silently informed me.

*"You mean you could make some of that poison?"* I asked in disbelief.

*"No,"* she said. *"But I kept some of it. I don't understand how it works, and that worries me. I decided I needed to keep a sample to study, so I held back a little when we turned in the rest."*

*"Without telling me?"*

*"That way you wouldn't have to lie,"* she explained.

*"We are definitely going to have to discuss my feelings on 'plausible deniability,'"* I growled to her. *"But as much as I might like to, I wouldn't really use that stuff on anyone, not even Mordant."*

*"As you wish,"* Titania agreed, but the undertones of her mental voice were as implacably angry as the ones I knew echoed in my own. It was frightening, yet reassuring at the same time - as long as she was on my side.

*"Always, partner,"* she promised.

*"Oh, I know that, Ti. Though you do sometimes have a funny way of showing it."*

Admiral Jones realized he was contemplating our offer a little too willingly, and with a visible shake of his head he brought the discussion to a close. "No. Neither of you are to go anywhere near him. As Tryx surmised, I'm sure we'll get a line on the drug lords even with just the names Trenco and Boskone to work with. That's the end of this discussion."

"What about the girls?" I asked. And no, reminding him of the victims was neither accidental nor a real change of subject.

At this his gruff face softened. "We've offered them help with their addiction, treating it like other psychological problems - similar to addictions to gambling or holodecks. Or like the most pernicious aspects of alcoholism. They may never really get over it, but we hope to help them take things one day at a time and regain useful lives."

"Sometimes, I'd like to take those who rant about 'victimless crimes' and put them through that," Tryx said with shocking bitterness. Then she shook herself and pasted a not-very-convincing smile on her lips. "But I'm sure the women will get the help they need. Trislini and Cheya, too, of course, and any of the earlier ones we can find."

I already had my arms around her, but this time my embrace truly was a sharing of sisterly affection, not an invitation to eroticism.

*"Ha! You'd be on your back in a heartbeat if she offered."*

*"I never denied it,"* I said. *"But I can enjoy hugging her even without sex, Tart!"*

*"You're calling *me* a tart?"* challenged Titania. *"Do you want me to remind you of how your body reacts to the very thought of Darius? Or for that matter, any time you see Tryx breathe?"*

*"Careful, Titty babe, or I'll find some way to, ahem, 'punnish' you."*

*"Oooh, you're gonna pay for that,"* she promised, but before she had a chance to retaliate, Tryx gave a little hip dip and we found ourselves side to side, heading for the door.

"And do something about those tails," Jonesy ordered as we left. "I get enough reports about you two now. I don't need another dozen people in sick bay with neck strain from watching you strut."

"We don't strut, Jonesy," I claimed - lying, of course, but with a rationale. "We slither. You said so yourself."

"Actually," whispered Tryx, "I'm the one who said that to you. But I am impressed."

"Impressed?" I whispered back.

"You actually said 'we don't strut' with a straight face! Now *that* is Federation-Field-Agent-class lying. Wait'll I tell Darius."

"Say one word to him, and . . and I won't let you . . . enjoy his gift again," I threatened.

"Oooh, now that is harsh," she claimed, but her silver giggle lit up the corridor. Then she sighed and said, "Believe it or not, I have another meeting. I need to get Bee some more training in explosives. That paste you guys came up with was way better than our fluid. I think I'll need some rather more specialized, um, training later though. Are you . . . free?"

"No, but I rent cheaply," I claimed, and laughed away Titania's sputtering expostulation about the sanctity of her matrix.

Tryx's laughter seemed to hang in the air like delicate perfume even after she had extracted herself from my arms and turned toward her appointment. I sighed and headed toward my own quarters. I didn't bother to tell Tryx, but I had scheduled some training myself - in electronic locks, with a special emphasis on biometric keys like palm prints. I just hadn't judged how long our meeting with Jonesy would last as well as she had.

*"You might as well get rid of my tail,"* I suggested to Titania. *"But it was a nice idea."*

*"Can we keep it for just a little while longer?"* she wheedled, struggling for a lighter tone herself. *"I think it's fun."*

*"Well, okay,"* I said indulgently, *"but just until we have to report for our training."* Then I giggled and admitted, *"I sort of like it too, but change it back to black."*

Titania snickered at my visceral discomfort with the thought of being blonde, and I knew I'd pay for that vulnerability later, but it was worth it. The deep, rich color of my tail bounced saucily behind me as I walked along, and if an observer would have had a hard time determining whether the sway was because of my, ahem, graceful movements or independent of them, well, I didn't care.

Titania enjoyed my jaunty attitude. *"If you got it, flaunt it - and baby, you got it!"*

I met Counselor Ardala on the way to my room, in a coincidence I didn't believe for a second. Titania started her fade into hiding, but I interrupted her.

*"Stay, Titania, please,"* I said. *"I won't, um, announce that you're here, but I think we can trust Ardala not to . . . cause any trouble."*

*"Are you sure?"*

*"No,"* I admitted. *"But I don't like it when you're gone. Or hiding. Whatever. I just don't like it."*

*"Good,"* Titania whispered to me in a way that seemed more . . . secretive than her normal manner. She was still there, and the world was still vivid, but there didn't seem to be as much . . . leakage from her. It was probably a good compromise, especially since I didn't have time to talk with her about it.

Ardala greeted me warmly. "So, Xora, you really did grow a tail."

"Do you like it?" I asked lightly.

"I can't imagine anyone else who could carry it off, and so sensuously," she said. "But for you, it's great."

"That's because you haven't met Tryx," I suggested.

"Ah, yes. The other high-order pairing," she said. "I'm looking forward to meeting her. I think it will be interesting."

"Indeed," I agreed, then snickered at the thought of the two strong-willed women getting to know each other.

*"Ha! You could give both of them lessons in stubborn,"* claimed Titania in my ear.

*"Stars, Titania, look who's talking!"*

Her response was interrupted by a question from Ardala. "I understand you were successful in your mission. How did it go?"

Who could pass up an opening like that? I gathered up my tail in one hand and with the other pulled forward a handful of the dark mass that spilled around my shoulders, then said, "Well, it did get a little hairy at times."

"Ooh, I should have seen that coming," Ardala claimed, laughing as she nodded and walked away. Apparently I had passed whatever tests she had in mind.

She was barely out of sight when I felt Titania start pulling on the strings only she knew about. *"I told you what would happen if you kept up with those puns."*

*"Titty, give me a break. We'll be late for our training,"* I gasped.

*"They'll wait for the galaxy's best agent - and I'll make sure you have a smile on your face when you get there!"*

Then the secret strokes - and licks and squeezes and . . . things stopped abruptly.

*"Never try to lie to your symbiont,"* Titania warned me. *"Even in your thoughts. You *wanted* me to do that!"*

*"Would I do that?"* I gasped, then surrendered to the waves of pleasure when she started up again.

 

 

 

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© 2003 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.