Setting the stage.

[Fetish]

Sarah strode confidently up to the front of the club in blue jeans, t-shirt, and a red windbreaker. The incredulous looks of the leather and latex clad people waiting outside the door were priceless. As she walked up, the door bitch opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly silenced by Sarah, who placed the tip of her finger right over his lips.

"Joe. A couple of my personal friends want to check out the club. They may be a bit awkward, as this is their first time here. Still, you are going to be a good boy and let them to the front of the line, yes?"

Joe nodded wordlessly, and after providing a brief description of Jonathan and Milly, Sarah spun around, blew a kiss to the crowd, and walked off.

[Doctor Silver]

Jonathan slurped up his Chinese noodles as he sat on the sofa in front of a large panel screen. He didn't need to eat anymore, but he liked to maintain the ritual of eating at least once per day. The flavors were enjoyable, but that wasn't why he did it. The ceremony created something normal in his life. It made him feel like a person.

"Pull up casefile 113, please," he said to the screen after he swallowed, and the apartment's imbedded computer system dutifully lit the screen with an image of a woman and her cumbersome interface suit. The woman was attractive, though the suit did little to enhance her natural beauty. It had a style to it, but it was clearly more a utilitarian device than a fashion statement. That having been said, the construction was excellent and the technology involved was highly advanced. Sophie had done her job well.

Now he had to figure out how to do it better.

"Begin recording," he said, "and append to casefile."

"Recording," replied a monotone voice.

"Subject is known as Milly, aka Headcase. Age is approximated at 21 to 31 years. I can only give broad strokes, as she has not submitted to detailed scans or an in-depth case history." He slurped up some more noodles, and then set the carton aside. Dabbing his lips with a napkin, he continued.

"Subject was forced to undergo psionic enhancement. Rather than increase the amount of usable brain tissue, her captors subverted her sensory, motile, and possibly some autonomic nervous functions, suborning them to enhance her telepathic and/or empathic abilities." He paused. "Command Command, rotate image, please."

"Rotating," replied the monotone.

On the screen, the woman's body and suit began to turn.

"This questionable technique is explained easily enough. By making the subject completely dependent on her captors for even basic survival, they ensured that she would be eminently compliant and incapable of escape. She somehow escaped anyway. I have no data on this."

"Command, Command, Zoom quadrant 1A, please," Jonathan ordered.

The image zoomed, to show the woman's neck area. "The suit provides three noticeable functions. First, it is a support system. It allows the subject to move without self-injury. Second, it provides motion, either by stimulating muscles as a surrogate nervous system, or by providing additional motive force via imbedded servos, motors, or synthetic muscle overlays. Finally, it provides sensory interface, via the helmet and gloves primarily. Without these interfaces, the subject is presumably mute, blind, and lacks any tactile input."

He sighed. "Command, Command, Zoom quadrant 3A, please," he said.

The image panned and zoomed again, this time showing her waist, buttocks, and crotch. "Lack of tactile stimulation is particularly lamentable," he said, "as it prevents her from enjoying physical relationships with others." He paused, then shook his head. "Command, Command, strike the last statement."

"Struck," replied the monotone.

"I believe a two stage approach is warranted for aiding the subject," he said. "The first stage is in designing a less obtrusive suit that can be worn with most clothing. One which allows a greater range of motion, and a broader sweep of tactile stimulation. The use of nanotechnology should allow this to be a possibility in a relatively short period of time. Perhaps weeks or months, depending on the specific challenges of the case."

"Eventually, it should be possible to use imbedded nanites. These nanites could overlay the existing nervous system entirely. This would allow the subject to retain their enhanced psionic potential. Meanwhile, the nanites would perform every normal function of a nervous system. This would allow for complete range of motion, all human activity, and all sensory input. Taste, Olfactories, Vision, and... Touch." He stood up, and walked to the screen.

"Command Command, Zoom quadrant 1A, freeze frontal, please," he said.

The image panned again, freezing over an image of the woman's face. He extended his arm, opened his hand. He splayed his fingers and touched the screen. "We'll get the people who did this to you," he whispered.

"Please repeat last statement," the monotone replied.

"Command, Command, stop recording," Jonathan said, straightening. "ETA to evening appointment?"

"Twenty Two minutes, Seven Seconds," the monotone informed him.

"Right. Save log and file. Megabit encryption."

"File saved and logged. Encryption applied."

Jonathan turned his attention to the clothes he'd laid out. It was his usual long coat and pants. The iron studwork on the coat was somewhat appropriate. It was an outlet for electrical discharges, but it would serve an aesthetic purpose tonight. He dressed quickly, then examined himself in a mirror, smoothing wrinkles and picking lint off of the outfit as needed.

"No time for a cab. I'll have to teleport. Wish me luck," he said.

"Good luck, Doctor," the monotone replied. Sometimes Jonathan liked to pretend that it meant what it was saying, and wasn't merely following a program.

There was a flash of light, and Jonathan Silver was gone.

********************

A few minutes later, he was in Club Caprice. After announcing his arrival, he'd been buzzed up to the VIP quarters. In truth, he'd never even realized the club had any personal suites until Milly had declared this her address. Once he'd made his way up to the room, he knocked gently on the door. Were he still human, he'd be sweating. It had been ages since he'd been on a date... And he'd never been on a date quite like this one.

[Headcase]

Milly stood with her back to the mirror, straining to catch sight of herself. Even with the new freedom to turn her head, she still couldn't get a good look at what everyone was talking about. Selina had helped with the finishing touches, of course, but that was earlier, and she'd had to retouch it for the robot theme. The paint could have smudged, the latex torn, or the pasties moved. Hell, she still wasn't sure about the hair. The goggles' vision was too grainy for such fine details, and Darwin had the more important duty.

God, she was nervous about the zipper...

The door knocked.

...no. No, she wasn't.

* * * * *

She looked at the clock again, sitting stock-straight on the bed. It was only eight, still four hours (three hours-fifty-nine) before he was supposed to show. Plenty of time. He wouldn't, couldn't stand her up. She was the one with the tickets.

Someone was here. The door twisted open, and she stood immediately. The light flips on.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Milly," Sherri said. Her boyfriend-of-the-week yanked his hand out from under her blouse, but Sherri walked in like she didn't even notice. "You said you weren't going to be in."

"The show's not until midnight," Milly answered. "He's just running a little late."

"You said you wouldn't be here," Sherri pushed past her. The himbo stared at Milly, his other hand holding a beercup.

"Oh, piss off, Sherri. You've done this every Saturday night for the last year," Milly stood, the urge to punch the blonde rising. "It's fucking Wednesday night. You can't give me shit for this, all the times I've had to study in the hall for your private party. I didn't tell anybody."

"Eat me, geek. You like studying anyway." Sherri made eye contact, with those oddly beautiful mismatched eyes. "Go wait for your dress up friends in the hall."

"Hey," the himbo spoke. "What're you dressed up as, some kinda clown?"

"Amidala," Milly spat, flipping them off as she stormed out of their dorm. Just two more weeks until the summer internship, last you'd ever see of that slut, thank God.

She smiled as she felt him nearby. "Utinni!" came the cry down the hall -- Perry and Ray, Quigonn and Obi Wan, acting as though nobody knew they were together. David, trying to pull off Sam Jackson even with the weight and never keeping a straight face.

And swoon-maker Eric, all flowing robes and shadows, with a voice so confident and comforting, that just spoke into her heart. The red of the makeup was too pale, but it accentuated his eyes.

{{Got the tickets, baby?}}

* * * * *

Darwin's shriek shook her awake. Jonathan were here. She'd hoped Sophie would've called by now, but no luck.

Milly turned to the mirror again, shimmied and cupped her breasts under the suspenders before tightening them, admiring the delicate linework on the flesh and latex both, and stepped quickly to the bedside to kiss Darwin on the forehead goodnight.

She opened the door wordlessly, letting her new collar catch the light of the hall.

[Doctor Silver]

Jonathan's eyes widened as the door opened and he laid eyes upon his date. God, but she looked like something good to eat. The transformation from her usual appearance was startling, even seeing it for the second time. This was a far cry from his usual fare, but his appetite swelled nonetheless. The light of the hall glinted on her collar, and his eyes lingered there for a time.

"You look beautiful," he said, "breathtaking." He reached into the deep pocket of his long coat, and pulled a leash from within. It was a carefully braided metallic mesh flat cord, woven together with care by a myriad of microscopic machines. It caught the light, a companion to his skin and her collar.

Swallowing the simulated saliva that was pooling in his mouth, he dropped his gaze briefly. His hands had not shaken since the transformation, but the other sensations of nervousness were strong within him. He almost felt as though his stomach were twisting itself in knots. He lifted his gaze again to look into her eyes. It was important to him that he should make eye contact, even if her eyes were not actually functioning organs. Sometimes, gestures were important.

"Before we go anywhere, I feel that there should be an understanding between us," he told her. "I have never been part of the alternative communities that are common to members of the House of Thorns. Certainly, I expect to be the proverbial stranger in a strange land this evening. I have never entered into a place like Fetish Fuel. The people there have chosen to live their lives by a different standard than I have ever known, and they doubtless have codes of honor and behavior that
will be at times familiar and alien to me."

He lifted his left hand to touch the band around her neck. "I do not know for certain what a collar like this might mean to them, or what their customs are regarding it. I can only tell you what it means to me."

He took a breath, re-charging his lungs with the air needed to make his vocal folds function.

"I want you to know that I realize this is more than a strange necklace, a prop that you'll be wearing at an erotic costume party. It is a symbol of trust, and an article of faith. It is a covenant between us, and a promise from me to you. I hold myself utterly responsible for your safety. Every moment that you choose to entrust me with that is a gift. Despite the tether that I will attach to this ring, no leash or chain shall bind you to me; Only your will to be led. I will not abuse you, or abandon you, or allow others to harm you. I will not lead you anywhere that you do not consent to go. If at any moment you are uncomfortable, or wish to leave, simply let me know. I will get you home safely, or arrange for someone you trust to do so."

He thumbed the clasp of the leash, and held it out to her. "With that pledge, will you be mine tonight?"

[Headcase]

{Why, Jonathan, you flatterer. You could romanticize a date to a fast food joint.} She smiled at him, wondering if he could blush, how he looked to himself in the reflection of her visor. She consciously tucked her hair behind her left ear, inwardly cringing at the sound of the handbraces on her jaw support, lifting her chin. {I'd be delighted.}

She waited a few beats for him to reach for her.

{And it's okay if you look.} She shifted her hips. {I like it when people look.}

[Doctor Silver]

Some gestures were universally appealing and ever-present in the fairer sex. Sometimes, Jonathan wondered if these little movements weren't part of a genetic program in order to attract a mate. If so, evolution had done its work well- Darwin be praised. The simple act of her reaching up to tuck her hair was as appealing as a full spread pictorial in Penthouse. Well... Almost.

The nearly inaudible clink and scrape of hard surfaces touching together did not phase him or enter much into his consciousness. Such sounds were second-nature to a tin man made manifest. When times demanded it, his body could be supple, but at other times it was hard. At the moment, the times were getting harder by the second. He smiled at her as she responded to his overture. So often, his overwrought language grated at the ear rather than caressing it. He'd given up trying to change. The trick was finding someone who didn't mind so much.

Well... that was the trick with so many things in relationships, really.

Reaching out to connect the leash, he paused momentarily when she shared the last. He swallowed, and then clicked the clasp onto her ring of steel. They were a unit, now. He lifted the leash, tugging gently to nudge her into a slow pirouette. It was a much nicer image than the one on his computer screen at home. He was nearly tempted to order a zoom on Quadrant 3A. Perhaps later, if things went well.

After appraising her every curve and detail, after caressing her with his gaze the way he might taste her with his tongue, he pulled her close. Dipping his head, he whispered into her ear. "I like to watch," he said, and pressed his need against her. She wouldn't be able to feel him against her skin, but he imagined that his desire might be a palpable thing nontheless, "and more." How long had it been since he'd touched a woman this way? Two years? It seemed like decades. Suddenly concerned that he might be moving too quickly, he stepped back. "Shall we away? I wouldn't want Lilith to think I'd done something unsavory with you."

[Headcase]

She turned for him, slowly. The harness helped guide her palsied movements and prevent her from falling, but she was unsure of so much -- her footing, the lighting and makeup on her back, the fact that Jonathan was still very much a stranger. No, she forced herself to focus on the certainty, shifting her hips to just barely present herself as she turned her back on him.

She'd have to remember not to turn from him again tonight, of course. She'd only thumbed through the library after joining (the shame of her gaffe with Shay briefly flared again), but some thing she remembered from elsewhere.

{It's a start,} she said after he whispered, laughing in her thoughts. As he backed away, she held up her hand to him, the light pulsing down it. {And I believe Miss Lilith would be cross indeed with you if you indulged in your appetites in me before our arrival.}

[Doctor Silver]

********************

How does a starving man resist a buffet?

It was a question he spent much time musing on during the cab ride to Fetish Fuel. By now, he'd so often heard of and spoken about the club that it had grown in his mind to some kind of mythical place. A shangri-la of life's most delightful sins. He imagined a Greek or Roman palace, with vaulted arched ceilings and columns. He imagined a dark hidden building, perhaps painted black to denote the darker desires brewing inside. He had imagined many things during his regular ruminations about the club.

What he did not imagine was what he saw when he arrived.

Externally, the club looked very much like any other, at least as far as Jonathan's experience went. He eyed the 'storefront' as he paid the driver, and helped Milly out of the cab. There was a line of people here, and he was unsure as to whether he should get at the back of the line or whether he should announce himself to the doorman. Opting for the second choice, he strode past other hopefuls and spoke to the burly gent guarding the proverbial gates.

"My name is Jonathan," he declared, "and this is-"

"Milly," the gatekeeper interrupted him. "You're expected. Go right in."

Somewhat surprised and quite pleased, he flashed a smile in Milly's direction. His silly grin was reflected in her visor, and he quickly composed himself to a more serious countenance. "Come along, then," he said, and led her with care through the doors and into the club proper. Techno music thumped through his metallic body as he crossed the threshold, and its synthesized beats seemed to reach inside and tickle at some deep part of him. He wondered if there was some connection between the disco of his youth and the techno of today. Some similarity that made him... What? Something. He felt like he was growing young again.

The club itself was well appointed, and much better lit than he'd have guessed it would be. There were nice lamps and clean lines and plush surfaces galore. And then... There were the people. It was as though someone had visited each of his most lascivious dreams since puberty and emptied them out into this room. Seeing the vast array of exotic costume pieces made him feel suddenly fashion conscious. But then the feeling passed. As a silver man, he was likely exotic enough that such worries were moot.

His eyes scanned the faces here, looking for one he might recognize. Jonathan had never been good at parties or social gatherings. Finding a familiar face would be a good place to start. As he looked around, he lightly touched the back of Milly's hand. Chances were that she was more comfortable here than he was, but he wanted her to feel the connection. To feel safe.

[Headcase]

{What's being a doorbitch like?} Milly asked, though she let Jonathan pull her in before the mysterious man answered.

This was it. This will be the first fetish club she ever set foot in. Unconsciously, she drew herself closer to Silver, taking hold of his arm as he gently touched hers. She looked about, taking in the scene.

[Lilith]

Lilith sauntered through the burgeoning crowd. She wore a long dress of black latex, covered tightly from the middle of her neck down to her wrists and thence to her ankles. Two slits on either side of the material, alllowed her to walk without hobbling. She wore very lightly colored stockings, the top bands of which were vinyl, along with the glimpse of her garter that could occasionally be seen depending on the fortune of the moment. Her shoes were platformed and stilleto heeled, glossy black, her toes entirely covered along with her heels. She held a fresh glass of red wine in her hand, opting for something different than her normal martini for once.

As she moved through the people, she engaged in the occasional light greetings as well as dodging potential others. Some eyes followed her openly, others less so direct. It was quite interesting, really, but there was so much potential candy here. She took in her own gazes, but her looks were subtle in their consumption of the visual.

She then spied those for whom she was looking and she strode confidentally over to them as they made their way inside.

"Milly, Jonathan," she said, playing a soft smile over her dark red lips, "How are you both this evening?"

She held her glass tight to her with both hands, inclining her head forward subtlely in greeting.

[Doctor Silver]

As Jonathan scanned the crowd, he mused briefly on what Milly had said to the doorman. Had she been trying to insult him, or was that an actual term for people in his position? He had never been part of the 'in' crowd, and had most certainly been out of the loop since the transformation. Pocketing his ignorance, he set the question aside for another time.

Motion caught Jonathan's eye as the crowd began to move. It was subtle at first, and then more pronounced. It reminded him of watching a field of wheat while wind moved over it. All the grain stalks would sway and incline, bowing to an irresistable force. And so the same was true in Fetish Fuel. Only here, the irresistable force was not an etheral power. Rather, it was a more earthly presence, and decidedly more modern. Ancient folklore told of wood nymphs and sea nymphs, supernatural entities that were wellsprings of desire. Lilith could easily pass as the modern corollary, a nymph apparently born of the modern age, wrapped tight in synthetics and sin.

Jonathan bowed in a terribly antiquated gesture more appropriate to Elizabethan courts than to any contemporary setting. It was one of the flights of romantic fancy which he indulged in. Even in his insular life, he'd found ways to express the fantasies that burned within. These little touches of speech and behavior combined to transform him into an irregularity, a man that his colleagues and even his fiance had once called eccentric. Here, he was just a slight variation on vanilla.

"An irony, ma'am, that seeing you so exquisitely enveloped makes me immediately desire to unwrap you." He smiled and looked upon Milly, "I am well, and more than pleased to stand between two dreams. Hopefully, I will not wake soon."

[Headcase]

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, come to think of it. A more risque Caprice she'd feared, quivered at the thought of a floorshow of depravity, but this was... she couldn't even fully see what that man wore on his face, and a spotlight turned, reflecting off the silver of her latex, briefly making she and Silver appearing as some sculpture.

And then there was Miss Lilith.

Jonathan rose - when did he bow? She reflexively curtsied deep, casting her eyes to the ground in embarrassment. What was the protocol here? The collar was just for the night, almost for show really. She desperately grasped at Jonathan's words, still low, hoping they'd reveal what Lilith had said.

A hostess, of course. She could handle this, all she had to do was be diplomatic.

{I'm a little overwhelmed, Miss. It's like the opening an orgy at the museum scene of Fellini's Satyricon.}

...

So much for that.

[Fetish]

Smiling from across the way, Sarah took a moment to admire the couple. You could always tell the new people by the way they surveyed the club, drinking in the sights and sounds. In this case, however, Sarah had the inside scoop, seeing as she had set this particular couple up. Striding towards the small gathering, the squeak of rubber on rubber accompanying each of her footsteps. She was wearing her little red latex dress over top of a black latex catsuit. It was nothing elaborate, but she really liked the look.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for a group of regulars to intercept her, inundating her with small talk. With a smirk, Sarah peered over their heads to Jonathan and Milly. She'd make it over there eventually.

[Lilith]

Lilith smiled softly, the singular looking man effect his old-fashioned bow. She showed no further signs, but such gentility meant a great deal to her. It toyed with her memories, and though that might unleash negative things, she also would not show such, choosing instead to embrace the positive, wringing the juices from it as she could. Upon his words, she raised her dark, sculpted eyebrows a bit, tilting her head slightly to the right as she looked at him.

"Well, indeed, that is much of the point," she replied, "And thank you."

She then trained her eyes slowly to Milly. She noted the collar but said nothing of it.

"Ahh, how lovely of you to think so," she remarked to Milly's words, "Though you will find no explicit orgies here. We keep ourselves to the deep tease and tint of such celebrations, but we must still follow the letter of the law."

She let her smile curl into something a bit more impish, and she winked at Milly.

"Well, then, do not let me stall you here," she continued, "Do you desire drinks? Or do you just wish to dive in?"

[Doctor Silver]

Dive in?

Jonathan considered that. He hadn't planned much beyond bringing Milly here. Awkward enough at medical conferences and cocktail parties, he had no idea what one did in a club such as this one. Should he just approach someone and compliment them on their unique costume appliance? Sit next to a handsome couple and oggle them as they caressed each other in full view? What on Earth did 'Diving in' mean at a place like this?

"Perhaps a drink is warranted," he considered aloud. Then he turned to Milly, "Will alcohol negatively impact your mobility?" Always the Doctor first. With the already tenuous grasp she had on her motor functions by way of her suit, he was concerned about any further degradation.

He glanced back to the hostess, and added, "And I must confess, I'm not sure what activities we should be indulging in while we're here."

At the moment, this club seemed like a good place to whet one's appetite before going home and devouring your date.

[Headcase]

A man beckoned another across the dancefloor with something -- were those spurs strapped to his fingertips?

{The joints lock if I lose my balance, or move too quickly for safety.} She threw out her right arm sharply, the elbow clacking loudly into its extended position. {I'm a psychic weeble wobble.}

She pulled the lever behind the elbow, flexing the arm experimentally. A red androgyne and matching latex pet walked by, the latter loudly and specifically admiring Jonathan and Milly in his thoughts.

{God, yes, I could use a drink -- I mean, thank you, please, Miss.}

[Lilith]

"Well, then, shall we to the bar?" Lilith invited, tilting her head in that direction while displaying an inviting smile.

She turned, noticing Sarah with some others. She sought the woman's eyes, hoping to have a chance to nod a greeting as they moved to the main bar. Again, Lilith wove her way through the growing throng, it seeming like tonight would be rather full. She moved up to an open area of the highly polished ultra-modern looking bar. The bartender took a bit to get to them, an apology in his eyes. Lilith offered a gentle expression of absolution in return as she displayed her nearly full glass of wine. She then turned back to Milly and Johnathan.

"Please," she bade, gesturing with a palm-up hand toward the bartendr, "Allow me to get your first round."

[Doctor Silver]

Milly demonstrated the robust safety features of her suit.

"Ah," Jonathan remarked without thinking it through, "that'll be good to know for later."

He paused a moment, mortified. But Lilith was off showing them to the bar, and he took advantage of the change of direction to pretend he hadn't spoken. He led Milly carefully by the leash, being sure not to tug his favorite weeble wobble too harshly. There was a certain satisfaction in having a beautiful woman at the end of a tether. He started to wonder why he'd never done this before.

Likely due to a shortage of willing applicants.

His fiancé' had been a feminist with strong views about independence. The mere idea of a woman submitting to a man's will was anathema to her. She wouldn't do it. Not even for fun. Their impending marriage had just seemed to make her more militant about the whole affair. Before the incident that ended their engagement, she'd gone from not wanting to take his name to wanting him to take hers. She'd also insisted on having two beds in their bedroom, so that it wouldn't be implied that it was her duty to 'service' him. In retrospect, the cessation of their impending union was probably for the best.

The bar was rather thoroughly peopled, and Jonathan ended up next to a man wearing a white PVC mask that has a long, phallic shaped nose. The man was stroking it suggestively while gazing at another gentleman next to him. For his own part, the other man seemed to be enjoying the display.

Turning his attention back to Lilith, Jonathan smiled, "Well, that's very generous of you. I'll only need water myself, though. Alcohol no longer has the desired effect." He reached out to gently stroke Milly's hair. She looked so good without the helmet. "What will delight you," he asked. What indeed? Was flavor even a concern? Or merely potency?

"If you like, I can sip it for you. And you can try-" He wasn't sure how to suggest that she borrow his senses. Nor was he even sure it would work. The nanites in his body constantly strove to duplicate the form and function of the cells they had replaced. Still, there were differences. It was all a pantomime. He could eat, but he needed no conventional sustenance. He could drink, but very little moisture was actually required to maintain his new body. He couldn't remember ever having been thirsty since the accident.

More and more each day, Jonathan had been learning to communicate with all the robots within him, giving them commands and sending them into new arrangements that took them farther and farther away from approximating anything in a human body. Sometimes he would even find himself thinking in binary code, and be surprised at the realization. Perhaps forging a connection with Milly could actually be healthy for him. She might keep his humanity grounded, if only in the substance of his thoughts.

"I mean, you can use me," he tried to explain, "my tongue, I mean. That is-" He frowned at how badly he was botching his offer. "If it works, you can get inside me." He sighed, pleading with his eyes for her to shut him up.

'Eloquent as ever, Jonathan,' he thought to himself.

[Headcase]

{Thank you, Miss, I do appreciate.} She followed Jonathan closely to the bar, trying not to get distracted again. She smiled to herself over Jonathan's open planning, her head bowed on the approach, wondering if she was just topping from the bottom, appearances aside. He was lost in his own head again. It was cute.

She waited a few moments for him to order before the deluge of his thoughts, slightly relieved that she wasn't the only one who had no clue what she was doing.

{Jonathan, Sir? I'm not exactly going to run away tonight, okay? Relax a little.} She smiled at him, hopefully quashing any outward signs of giggling. {Whatever you order'd be fine, I'm sure, and I'd be happy to ride for a bit.}

{Mm. Reminds me. Miss Lilith, Jonathan and I discussed it, and I'm going to try to avoid 'speaking' to anybody who doesn't know what I can do. Is this appropriate?}

[Lilith]

Lilith patiently watched as the good Doctor stammered with Milly. She had known the man a short time and had already picked up on his verbal eloquence, so this hesitancy was quite charming in its own way. She did not chuckle, though, not wanting to offend with any possible condesencion, now matter how veiled in polite humor. She wore the same warm smile she often did, simply waiting.

Milly then replied, a good effort to calm the Doctor. Lilith's smile stretched the barest bit at this. She then gave the woman her full focus as she asked a question of her.

"Oh, of course, dear," Lilith spoke in her smooth, controlled voice, "We highly respect boundaries here, despite what some may think. I do encourage you to stay within your area of comfort ... whatever that may prove to be."

[Doctor Silver]

Jonathan let out a breath at Milly's reassurances, shaking his head just slightly. Well, in all things, there was a learning curve. And yet... as the possibilities began to filter into his mind, his brain surged. Suddenly it was a storm of electrical activity. Not that anyone but Milly would know, of course.

"Something tall, strong, sweet, on ice, with two cherries," he decided at last, "and a straw." To his credit, the bartender juggled this odd combination of parameters without difficulty. Moments later, a tall glass of something sparkling and pink had been served. Ice glittered within the beverage, whipped cream decorated the surface, and two cherries were perched on the rim. Jonathan had no earthly idea what the drink was. He also couldn't care less. From one moment to the next, his mind had entered into a completely different mode of operation. He felt weightless, as though he'd just jumped from a cliff.

And yet, for the first time this evening, he wasn't afraid of the fall.

Leaning forward, he took a small sip of the drink. It was bittersweet and cold. He let it dance on his tongue and chill his throat, swallowing it slowly after savoring it fully. It had a vague sense of something tropical, though he couldn't tell what it was. Perhaps Milly would know.

Having tasted it, he plucked the cherries from the glass. He split them from their common limb so that each could be independently held. Then he held one out and placed it in her hand. "Mirror me," he said.

'She is me,' he thought to himself, 'I am she.' It was a concept of intimacy he had never before considered. He made a subtle adjustment within himself, heightening his tactile responses. Ecstacy on the cheap. Millions of nanites dutifully responded, diverting more processing power to their sensors and re-aligning them to accommodate his purpose.

He held out the other cherry, cold and dripping with residue of the drink. He pressed it lightly to her lips, sliding it gently across the delicate flesh. So enthralled was he in the possibilities unfolding, he had all but forgotten about his gracious hostess. At some point in the near future, he would feel quite badly about that.

But not right now.

[Headcase]

{I am more worried of others' comfort, Miss, as well as protocols unfamiliar.} Milly smiled, letting the collar catch the light. {I'll be keeping my metaphorical hands to myself unless invited, naturally.}

The taste hit her suddenly, her body suddenly goosebumping to reveal how little latex she actually wore. She gasped audibly. {Oh. Oh my, that's lovely. I haven't had papaya in so long.} She closed her eyes behind her visor, her lips rubbing themselves sympathetically.

He broke her reverie with a cherry in her palm, and a command. She held the cherry to his lips, smiling as he did the same to hers. What the hell. It's worth a little indigestion.

{The liberties you take, sir, telling me to give you something so personal.} She waits just a moment for him to register what they were doing, then bites into the one he offered.

[Lilith]

Lilith watches the two with a studious look, her slight grin never findig escape from her lips. The way the lights of the place danced off the two of them was interesting. In place of such flash and flesh as this, the lights were chosen specifically to enhance such, but these two seemed engaged in a special sort of reflection even above that. Lilith was content to simply sip her wine and watch. And again her own mind drifted to curiosity regarding Milly's powers.

[Doctor Silver]

Jonathan smiled at Milly's comment, and then nearly trembled as she pressed her own cherry to his mouth. The sensation was heightened beyond what he'd expected. The cold, wet orb pressing lightly against his lips evoked a very different swelling of flesh when in her hands. He parted his lips and captured the cherry with his tongue, imagining a very different savoring of a much hotter treat. As he bit into the cherry, sweet juices gushed inside his mouth.

He chewed slowly, letting the essence of her cherry play along his tongue. Then, in a rapturous exhilaration, he reached out and swept her up into a powerful embrace. Pressing his lips to hers, he tasted of her and tasted the commingling of their experience. Jonathan was not merely weightless, now. He was flying; Soaring with a new and wondrous energy.

When his lips finally parted from hers, he slid the remainder of the tall drink towards her. "Drink this dry," he told her, "and then answer me two questions. One, can you hold a cube of ice? And two... do you trust me?""

His mind careened from sensation to sensation, and from plan to plan. Memories and hopes rushed into a common cauldron of his imagination. "I like to be looked at," she'd told him earlier. And why not? Everyone should see her. Everyone should feel as he felt now.

It was a gift they could give... together.

[Headcase]

What he was doing with the cherry was almost too much, even if she was pretty sure she'd bitten into her tongue chewing his. Something had turned in him, and the awkwardness gone -- not just gone, but banished -- and she wondered if he realized what he was doing to her with his tongue just then. She hoped so -- it almost overwhelmed the taste.

And then he took hold of her and kissed her, and she held her to him. For a moment, she forgot all else. She'd remember this.

She obediently took the drink from him, cradling it one-handed as she swallowed deeply, uncertain whether it wasn't too strong for her, and whether she wanted it to be. She wondered his plans for the first time.

{Yes, to both, Sir.} She set the emptied glass on the bar, wondering if the shaking was from excitement now, or the drink. {What do you wish?}

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