"They fired you? Just for being...that? You've got to be kidding me!" Lisa, Jay's co-worker, stood gape-mouthed by the coffee-maker.
Jay sighed, staring at the floor. It was partly because she was downcast, and partly because looking people in the eyes from a height of four feet made her look more plaintive and cute than serious. "Strictly speaking, I 'resigned under protest' rather than take a reassignment. Important distinction, since it means I don't get severance. Oldest trick in the office-politics playbook."
"But...everyone knows you do a good job," Lisa said. "I mean, it's not like we haven't had crank letters come in before now...why would this suddenly be an issue?"
The fox-girl shrugged. "I think someone at corporate doesn't like transformees. Shunting me to a desk job might be okay, but having me as a face of the news team? Not so much. Especially not when I'm refusing to spin things to match some higher-up's bias."
Lisa frowned. "What makes you say that? I mean, aside from it being a pretty obvious assumption and all."
"That would be the part where Toby directly said it," Jay replied. "God, I knew I never wanted to be in middle management, but looking at that guy...damned if he doesn't go along with what they want, stuck with living with himself if he does..."
Her co-worker scowled. "There must be something we can do. You don't deserve this, the newsroom doesn't deserve this, hell, Toby doesn't deserve this! I just wish we had more than your word...no offense."
Jay smiled. "None taken," she said. "People like these would smear me for all they were worth if someone ran a story without evidence like, say, a recording of my boss explaining the situation to me."
Lisa gasped. "You mean you...?"
Jay's ears perked up, and she put on a sly grin. "I can't say for sure," she said, "but I think if you check the underside of your desk, there might be a digital-audio recorder there with some useful material on it. But I don't really know, because it isn't mine. Mine is very distinctive; it's got a nice little Roger Dean reproduction painted on the casing. This one definitely isn't it, and it doesn't have my fingerprints on it at all. I don't know who could have left it there."
Lisa laughed. "Right. Of course. Ooh, they want spin, I'll give 'em spin! How's this: 'Network Executives Implicated In Discriminatory Firing!?'"
The fox-girl's tails were wagging by this point. "Don't come on too strong," she said. "You want to be angry but restrained. Too much venom and you start to look like a hatchet job."
"Yeah, you're right. Not that I'd turn up my nose at doing a hatchet-job on these guys."
Jay nodded. "Tell me about it. But, as ever, public perception is the key. They see us getting too angry, they'll think this is some kind of attempt by transformees to stomp in and take over the country or something; they see you give a damning but professional report on someone who was muscled out for no other reason than being a victim of the sun, the sympathy will start to lie with the reporter who was not-fired."
Lisa nodded. "I'll write them the most professional-pissy God-damn story there ever was, you can count on that!"
The fox-girl smiled. "Just...make things easy for Toby, all right? I know his heart's in the right place, even if he's forgotten it right now. Don't let him know a thing about it until it's going out on the air, or even after, if you can manage that, and don't give the bigwigs any more basis than you have to for making him a scapegoat."
The human woman sighed. "I'm still mad at him for even going along with this, but you're right. I'll do my best."
Jay smiled. "Attagirl. Well, I'm no longer an employee, for the moment, so I'd better get going. See you when I see you."
Lisa grinned. "See you then."
David stood on the sidewalk by her house, watching the police officer pull away. She'd been nice enough to use her own car rather than one of the squad cars, but David still knew she was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
But how could she explain it? She barely even understood it herself. The thought of being intrinsically, intimately connected to five other girls was mind-boggling. She could feel everything they felt, even across town; someone was lounging on a bench, aimlessly fiddling with her toes, someone was impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for something, probably back at the station, someone was even (she blushed) experimentally hefting her breasts. She knew that the others could feel her bare feet on the weathered concrete just as she could. Yet even with this five-fold increase in sensory input, she wasn't overwhelmed - somehow, her brain was able to handle and process the information as if this were nothing at all out of the ordinary. And all of them were feeling a mixture of shock, confusion, and anger...
She sighed and went up to the door. It opened to reveal her mother, standing and staring. "D-david?" she asked. "Oh, they told me on the phone that you were...you're in so much trouble...oh, I'm just so glad you're okay!" She hugged her son-turned-daughter tightly, tears running down her cheek. David flushed at the strange sensations, and at the thought that all five of her "sisters" were feeling the same thing. Pushing this feeling aside, she hugged her mother back.
"How are you feeling?" her mother asked. Boy, she thought, that's the question, isn't it? She was very glad that, at the very least, her thoughts were still private, but how was she feeling? She wasn't really sure that question applied any more. "Uh, I...I dunno," she said, still amazed by her soft, feminine voice. "I...the others are all kind of angry and confused, and it's rubbing off on me...could I have some coffee?"
Her mother smiled. "Yes, of course you can. Come on in, dear."
David went inside, and her mother went to put on coffee. The angel-girl was unnerved when she realized that she needed to go to the bathroom - somehow, even though physical sensations were shared by all six of the girls, she could tell which ones were specific to her body's needs. She went into the downstairs bathroom and pulled up her gown, then thought better and pulled it off entirely. Well, she could undress without the others being undressed, at least, even if she couldn't dress differently. She was relieved; things would have been incredibly inconvenient if that hadn't been the case.
But...now she looked in the mirror and saw herself in her full glory. A lovely young woman stood before her, wings at rest behind her, gentle golden light above her...she would have found this extremely attractive, but now she wasn't sure what she felt. So strange to think that this was her...that this was all of them...
Shaking her head, David took care of business as best as she could with her general unfamiliarity with her new parts, then put the gown back on and headed out to the kitchen. Her mother was pouring up coffee, and she sat down with a cup, back in her normal spot, with her normal mug. For the moment, it seemed like the only thing different was her.
She took a sip, then balked as she felt shock and annoyance; that must be Mark, again. But she wasn't going to let her connection to Mark spoil her enjoyment. She continued to drink her coffee, savoring its warmth and flavor. And...gradually, the annoyance gave way to resignation and eventually to the calm that it normally brought her. Things were going to be very strange from now on, but maybe it could all work out.
