Tiffany fumed. He had brought that woman into her house, to do this to her, and he didn't even seem to understand what it meant...
"L-look, Tiffany," her father said. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry it hurt you, honey. But I didn't have much of a choice. She was the only person who might have even had a clue what was going on, let alone how to deal with it."
"So of course you had to forcibly do some kind of voodoo surgery on me," she hissed. "Naturally."
Mr. Saunders flinched, then frowned, trying to straighten himself up. "Tiffany," he said, "you didn't leave me any alternatives. Things were drastically wrong, and I could hardly get out to find someone with a milder approach, the way you were acting. Your teacher was the one chance I had to get some help with your condition, and I was not going to let my only child be...consumed by that thing!"
She gaped. "That 'thing!?'" she shouted. "That 'thing' gave me everything! Everything, Dad! I had power, I had looks, I had a safeguard against the sun! And you took it all away, because you were scared! Look at me now! I'm a...I'm a freak, just like everybody else...look at me, Dad!"
"I am looking," he said. "You're beautiful, honey. And you look like you again, not like some manufactured...look, even if you can't see right now what that thing was doing to you, I think you will, in time."
"And then I'll thank you for invading my innermost self to rip it from me, of course," she said.
He shook his head. "No. Tiffany...I don't want to be thanked for that. I didn't want to have to do it in the first place. But it was that or let that thing consume you...let you be lost, forever. I couldn't let that happen."
She huffed. "I'm going back to bed," she snapped, slamming the teacup down on the table.
Mr. Saunders nodded. "Sleep well."
Steven and Ben kept playing for a good long while, continue with the fighting game for a while before moving on to other machines. The flower-girl kept trying to vary her strategy, simultaneously amused and annoyed at her friend's ability to observe her and figure out how to counter what she was doing. Still, he was just a good player, not a superhuman probable-cheater, and it was a lot more fun, with plenty of give and take.
Fun enough, in fact, that by the time she glanced up at the clock, it was past midnight. "Oh, man," she muttered, "I...I probably have to get going..."
Ben nodded. "'Spose this is late for you now."
She shrugged. "I haven't really adapted to a day schedule yet, but...I guess I probably better get back. If you see any of the other guys, say hi for me, but...don't tell them, okay?"
He smiled. "I won't. Thanks for coming, Steve. It was fun."
She smiled, too. "Yeah...it was."
If he were insane, would he know he were insane? The question kept returning to him. He wanted to think that he would be able to tell if something were wrong with him, but then, if real insane people couldn't tell the difference between their hallucinations and reality...it didn't seem fair to think that his mind could be so compromised that he couldn't even realize it!
But this place...it didn't seem like a hallucination. It was weird and removed from reality, but it lacked the fever-dream quality of something that existed only in the interactions of an addled brain. The people here were consistent and seemed to have a logic to their actions, even if Jenny was a little naive and the woman was being bafflingly obtuse. And though it seemed like the landscape shifted now and again, it did so in ways that he noticed; in a dream it would be "oh, of course there's a hill over on the horizon now, that's just how it is."
But then if it was...not a hallucination, if he weren't going insane, then what was it? Where was he? Had the sun whisked him off to some other dimension populated only by himself and a couple of girls who seemed to understand far more about this than him, but who wouldn't or couldn't explain it to him?
Enough rambling. He had to find Jenny. But where was she?
He looked back at the...the thing the handcuff on his wrist had become. The chain was still there, still seemingly attached to something he couldn't see. Suppose Jenny was right with him, and somehow he could neither see nor hear her? "Hey, are you there?" he asked. "If you are, could you move your bracelet around?"
...nothing. So either she wasn't there, or she couldn't hear him either. But where could he even begin to look? If he could see her, then she wasn't here at all. She wouldn't have gone back the way they came; she was afraid of things over there, though she'd seemed more afraid of what would become of him there. She had wanted to go over towards the sunrise, but that had been for his sake, as she thought that it would help him, somehow. If she wanted him over there, it would make little sense to go that way without him.
On the other hand, to the left and right (east and west? Or did those even apply here?) were vast expanses of nothing at all, a plain even more featureless than the part they had been on this whole time. It was like this whole place was a single linear progression from the dim places he had first found himself in, to the far horizon and whatever waited in the sunrise. She wouldn't have gone back, and there wasn't any reason for her to have gone to the sides. So if she'd gone anywhere it was probably forward...
...and if she had, then, should he? He balked at the idea; he recalled that first feeling that the sun would change him, and the woman had said it would tear him apart in his present state. But if Jenny was over there...
Why did he feel any loyalty to her, anyway? She wasn't his child, even in a figurative sense. He made it a point not to harm children, but that didn't mean he had to throw away his life for them, did it? He could just go back to the dark places himself...she could probably look after herself, anyway, she seemed to know more about this place than he did...
...no, no he couldn't. Part of him wanted to, wanted to go back where it might be safe for a little longer, but...he couldn't leave her, even if he didn't know where she even was. Even he wasn't so callous as to abandon a little girl to her own defense in a strange place. And those things that had come for her...if they came back, he would tear into them with his bare hands rather than leave her to face them alone. He wasn't a...good man, but he was not that far gone.
So if he thought she went forward...forward it was, then. Besides, if he hurried, if he could make it to the hill before the sun rose, then he might be able to hide in its shadow, for a little while, at least. Maybe there would even be a cubbyhole he could make into a shelter from the light...
Just how much time did he have, anyway? The sun had been just peeking over the horizon for...for...as long as he'd been here, however long that was. Was it really so slow? It might be a long while before he were really in danger, then. But time seemed to come and go unpredictably here...what if it crept up on him? He'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.
"One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four..." he murmured, keeping his steps briskly paced. He thought he heard her giggle softly, but she was still nowhere in sight.
Andy rolled over onto her back. She couldn't sleep...her breasts weren't large, but she still hadn't figured out a way to sleep comfortably on them, if that was even possible. She was still used to a night schedule, too - her brain was telling her it was time to be awake. And on top of that, she was...she shivered. Susan was lying next to her, his chest rising and falling...
She looked at the clock. 2:30...normally she'd be out and about right now. Yet here she was, lying in bed with her mate, trying to sleep but unable to...for more than simple circadian-rhythm reasons. Maple had been right...these feelings didn't just go away if you ignored them...rather, they stored up inside...
"Are you awake?" the naga-man whispered. That voice...she nodded. "Y-yeah. Can't sleep...this is going to take some getting used to." Only a month of this and she had already fallen into a night-side pattern...
Her mate nodded. "Yeah. How are you feeling otherwise?"
The rabbit-woman thought for a moment. Did she really want to tell...? No, of course she ought to. That was what she had promised herself, that she wouldn't...wouldn't hide her feelings from her mate anymore. She pressed against him. "I'm..." Her voice was getting husky again... "...oh Sue, I...I want you."
She felt him react to her touch...he stiffened for a moment, but from unfamiliarity, not fear. "A-Andy," he stammered, "You...you were so torn up this morning, so traumatized...I don't want to hurt you...I'd never forgive myself if..." A shudder ran down the entire length of his body.
Andy nodded sadly. "I was...hell, I think I still am. But...this was part of the problem all along, this pulling away and hiding any time there was a chance I'd get hurt...Sue, I can't keep doing that. I just can't. I...I know I can trust you, I just need to...to show myself that I can..."
The snake-man put his arm around her, and she nuzzled into his embrace. "Andy," he said, "just...tell me, love...this is you, right? It's not something driving you to this against your will...you really want this?"
She took a deep breath, and nodded. "Maple was right...it doesn't control me, any more than my old desires did. I...I can't say I'm not...nervous about this, but...my body wants it, and me...I'm...I'm lonely, and hurt, and scared...I need you, Sue. Body and soul...like we used to."
She gasped as she saw tears trickling down his cheek, but it was cut short as he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him further into the kiss, as she surrendered herself to the new feelings inside.
