Keith tailed the young Indian woman as stealthily as he could. He wasn't quite an expert at moving undetected, he preferred a more direct approach, but in a life on the wrong side of the law you pretty much had to be better than most at it. He'd scope out their settlement, wait until everyone was bedded down for the night, then make his move. If they had one night watchman, he could handle that. All he needed was a horse, a gun, and whatever he could grab in the way of food...
...the thought of which set him thinking about berries, for some reason, berries as big as her head, juicy ones that dribbled when you broke the skin, the juice running down her-
Gah! What the hell was he thinking? Where did that come from? Was this that damned dream again, invading his waking life to boot? He had to focus! He had to pay attention, or something might-
His train of thought ceased abruptly as he heard the click of a hammer being pulled back. He froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.
"Turn around slow." He did. There was a young Indian, in better shape than himself, pointing a worn old rifle at him. Keith wanted to scoff at it; any of the guns he owned were much better than that piece of crap, but considering he didn't have any of them on his person, he refrained from comment.
How to approach this? He hadn't made any hostile moves yet, so there was the chance he could salvage this; the natives around here were peaceful enough, but they were also no great friends of the U.S. government, which meant they wouldn't be looking to turn him in without a good reason. On the other hand, this was not a situation that would inspire trust. Still, playing it friendly was probably his best bet.
"You speak English?" he asked, grinning nervously.
"Enough, yes. Who are you?"
"Name's Keith," he said. "I'm just trying to find my way towards-"
"You were following her," the man said. "Moved like a wolf. You were hunting." He aimed the gun a little more closely at Keith. "Come on, move."
The outlaw seethed, internally. This was not his day. Night. ...days? Whatever, it was not good. These folks weren't all bloody-minded like some of the stories he'd heard of other tribes, but it was obvious this punk was none too happy with him, and he was the one with the gun...
He wanted to just take him down, steal his gun, and be off, but he knew it was too big a risk. At this range it would be hard to miss even with a scrap-pile of a gun like that, and even if he did get past the gun without getting shot, he wasn't sure he could take the man in a hand-to-hand fight; Keith probably had more brawling experience, but the Indian was younger and more fit, by the looks of him. No, there didn't seem to be an easy way out of this one...if only he hadn't been so damn distracted!
He was prodded at gunpoint into the settlement, which was still asleep, for the most part. He looked up at the sky...seemed like it was around three in the morning. They stopped next to a fire. "Sleep," the man said. "I will wake you when we decide what to do with you."
Keith balked. Sleep? He couldn't sleep! What if...what if the dreams came back...? What if this time...he didn't wake up?
His captor waved the gun at him. "Sleep," he said, irritated.
Steven went down and had dinner, but she was obviously distracted. Her mother looked her over knowingly, but said nothing while they were eating, waiting until they were clearing away the dishes.
"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"
"YES!" the flower-girl moaned. "I don't want to, it's just...I..." She broke down into aggravated sputtering. Why did this have to be an issue? The thought that she might be that different in her mind as well as in her body...
Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. "Honey," she said, "I think you're overreacting. We don't even know whether your attractions have switched yet."
"But...but what if they have?" Steve asked. "It's another thing, Mom! Another thing about me that...that's...gone..."
Her mother sighed. "I know it's frightening, honey," she said, "but...I think you're overstating the case. Was it part of the old you? Yes, obviously, and maybe it still is. But if it isn't, is that really so terrible? I don't think it was a core component of who you were." She smiled. "I can tell you, Steven, whatever you are now, as an outside observer and as someone who's known you literally all your life, you are quite clearly just as much 'you' now as you were two weeks ago."
Steven sighed. She still wasn't convinced, but that was comforting to hear, at the least... "Thanks, mom," she said. The plant-woman smiled. "You're welcome. I'm as happy that you're still the child I've known for seventeen years as you are, you know."
She went upstairs and worked on her homework for a while, then got ready for bed. As she was getting into bed, she remembered the magazine she had stashed away. Of course...now that she had some privacy, she could prove to herself that she hadn't changed, that she was still attracted to girls. She grabbed the mattress and lifted...
...or rather, she was going to lift it.
Any second now.
...
Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't do this, not right now. She wasn't ready to know. She wanted one outcome, but what if it turned out to be the other? What if she really wasn't attracted to girls anymore? It wasn't like she could go back for a do-over and get it right, it wasn't like she could change the result. She didn't want to live with this uncertainty, but she was even less keen on the possibility of getting the answer she didn't want.
She dropped the mattress and crawled into bed, huddling under the covers and hoping that if she just didn't find out then, like Schrödinger's cat, she would be in neither state. It would have to be like that, right? If she abstained from the question, the answer would be obligated not to present itself in other circumstances? It wouldn't be fair any other way...
Jon sighed. It was getting late...she was irritated, she'd had to spend most of the evening playing catch-up on the work she'd missed while she was stressing out over the Hedgeton incident on Sunday. She was caught up at last, but it was already bedtime...she'd wanted to have the evening to look through the book now that Brittany had unlock it...
...well, maybe she could do a little bit of that. She got ready for bed, put on her pajama shirt, slid up onto the mattress and got herself settled in, and shivered. It was already getting cold out now; she'd need a blanket pretty soon. She wondered if they made any for people like her, that wouldn't stick too firmly or leave lint all over her foot...
Shrugging, she picked up the book and began to leaf through it...
