Angel Holly paused for a moment outside the ex-pet's room, quietly sensing the moods of the two women inside.
Angel was calm, if a little fragile, still coming to terms with Devon's startling, disturbing revelation that he'd seen her before she'd been changed, and the news that for the moment there was nothing that could be done about her fur, ears or tail. But above that, she was grateful for her good fortune, and happy, accepting with a sort of wonder her budding relationship with Razor. Holly couldn't have guessed how it'd happened, but Angel had emotionally latched on to the prickly psi within minutes of gaining consciousness that first time she'd been brought into the infirmary. On the surface it was a recipe for disaster; Angel was awfully vulnerable and Razor wasn't known for her compassion, but it seemed to be working. Part of the psi's response to Angel was a fierce protectiveness, and Angel was taking strength and confidence from this, things she desperately needed if she was going to emerge from her experience of being a pet with her emotions and sanity intact. And speaking of Razor… The empath smiled to herself; Razor was bewildered, bemused by what she felt for Angel but undeniably smitten and more than willing to defend the girl from harm. But, Razor had always kept herself aloof from any emotional contact - except the grudging, antagonistic friendship she shared with her partner - and she had no idea what to do with Angel. If it was anyone else, Holly would've gladly stepped in with some advice, but this was Razor and she wouldn't appreciate being helped, let alone knowing that anyone else knew what was happening to her.
One of the pieces of tech that'd been pulled out of Angel during her surgery had turned out to have been affecting the girl's hypothalamus, stimulating the organ to overproduce sex-pheromones making her inadvertently and overwhelmingly desirable to those who liked females. Holly hadn't been surprised that Razor had been affected, the empath had had her suspicions about the psi's sexuality for a long time, even if Razor didn't have a clue. Privately, Holly had been worried that once Angel's endocrine system returned to normal and she stopped producing the abundance of sex-hormones, Razor's attraction would fade away leaving the girl without the emotional stability the psi somehow gave her. That hadn't happened; instead without the almost frantic attraction nagging at her, it had let Razor slow down and assimilate what was going on. Angel had been terrified too, once she'd been told about the cyber-ware, that Razor's interest would turn out to be chemically based and she'd go away. Her relief when she realized that wasn't going to happen had raised a smile on empaths' faces floors away!
And so here they were, a mis-match if ever there was one but with the potential for a lot of good. Now how to help them without Razor realizing…?Razor didn't look away from Angel when Holly knocked and came in - she knew who it was, she'd noticed the medic loitering outside the room for ages.
"Morning, Angel - Razor." The empath was cheerful, "Angel, the surgeon will be here in a little while, along with a cyber-tech. We'll see about activating that voice-box today, OK?"
Angel paled and gripped Razor's hand, squeezing the psi's fingers tightly in an instinctive fear response - the surgeon was male. John Woodforde was a gentle man with a soothing manner but the couple of times he'd been to see Angel, to check her progress, had been traumatic for the girl. Out of Angel's earshot, Razor had argued for a female doctor to be assigned but Holly had disagreed. She was backed up Nicola Horn, a clinical psychologist and strong empath who said that the only way Angel was going to start getting over her fear of men was to be exposed to them for short periods of time in a controlled environment.
*It's all right, I'll be here.* Razor reassured Angel.
*I'm s-sorry,* Angel was trembling, *I can't help it…*
"It's fine, Angel, really, we understand." Holly said softly, having been let into the 'pathic connection by Razor. She put an arm around the frightened girl, "I know how hard it is for you, honey," she smiled apologetically, "I'd give you the option of sedation but we need you conscious for the tech."
Angel shook her head vehemently.
*No. No drugs. Not ever.*
"Who's the tech?" Razor asked.
"Mandy," Holly smiled, "she's a wee little mouse of a thing but she's a genius with cyberware."John had been quick and efficient. He was satisfied that Angel's new nails and teeth had taken properly - she could begin the physical therapy to regain full use of her hands again - and the wound at the nape of her neck where the cyberware and cortex bomb had been removed was fully healed. Angel had endured Woodforde's gentle touch, eyes wide and fearful, only staying put because Razor was there with her - and the years of conditioning to do as she was told was still deeply ingrained. At least she didn't have to cope with being aroused by his nearness...
There'd been two behavioural modification chips hardwired into her neural interface, one had been dedicated to making her display cat-like behaviour - rubbing, purring and such - and the other had forced her to respond to any male's presence with an obvious arousal. Angel had stared at the small, seemingly innocuous pieces of metal and plastic that Lenore had shown her then suddenly snatched them out of the agent's hand and in a fit of rage had crushed the chips, mangling them completely. Then she'd blindly turned to Razor, clutching the psi, burying her head in her chest and silently - she still couldn't speak - howled out her anger and grief.Mandy was short, and slight with large brown eyes and a small, diffident smile; Angel felt very much at ease with her.
"OK, Angel, I'm going to activate the voice-box now." Mandy held a small electronic tool against Angel's throat and pressed a series of buttons. "I want you to say something - don’t be surprised if it doesn't sound right, I'll most likely have to make some adjustments…Go ahead."
The ex-pet swallowed a few times, then not taking her gaze from Razor's face she spoke.
"H-hello, A-del-aide."
Razor only half-smiled, but her sapphire eyes were shining suspiciously.
"Hello, Angel."Angel's first attempt at speech was stilted and mechanical; Mandy explained that was because it was the voice-box's default setting, and proceeded to make minute adjustments to it through the electronic handtool. It took over an hour, but eventually, guided by Angel's feelings of what sounded right to her, for the first time in possibly three years the ex-pet had a voice.
Holly had gently chivvied Mandy, and John who'd stayed silent in the background, out of the room, tactfully leaving Razor and Angel alone.
"How do I sound?" Angel asked.
"Beautiful," Razor breathed, and hesitantly lifted a hand to cup the girl's velvet striped cheek, something she'd wanted to do for days. Angel sighed happily, startling Razor by leaning into the touch. The psi swallowed nervously, unaware of the look of mingled confusion and pride on her face.
In the corridor outside, Holly grinned delightedly to herself...The empath came back several minutes later with lunch for them all – and some good news.
"Angel, John thinks you're well enough to be discharged."
The ex-pet blinked, disturbed, saying nothing for several long moments until she remembered she could speak.
"Leave here? Oh..." Angel's lips quivered; if she was well she couldn't really stay in the infirmary but… "Where will I go?"
"You could stay with me." Razor blurted out.
"That's an excellent idea!" Holly was quietly enthusiastic. "What do you think, Angel?"
Angel was staring wide-eyed at the nervous psi, blushing – though it wasn't noticeable under the fur.
"Really? I could stay with you?"
Razor nodded while perversely, ridiculously, wanting to run away – her gaze locked on beautiful green eyes, their slitted pupils fully dilated, the light in the room reflecting off the retinas sheening red over the black.
"Great!" Holly grinned, ignoring the charged silence as the two women stared at each other. "I'll organise some clothes for you, Angel, we'll set up a schedule for your physical therapy, and then you can leave when you're ready.""Well, here we are." Razor, carrying the small holdall containing the clothes and toiletries Holly had given Angel, keyed the electronic code on her door and swung it open. Angel smiled gratefully up at her and stepped inside, pausing to look around.
"It… it's not much… " Razor stammered, excruciatingly aware for the first time ever how someone else would view her stark, unwelcoming rooms.
Embarrassed was not something Razor felt very often, but she did now. The bare, grey walls and utilitarian furniture had never bothered her before, but now she couldn't escape the feeling that there was something missing. Maybe she should have got some cushions or something before bringing Angel back here...
"At least it's not a cage." Angel said with a small smile.
"I'll show you around," Razor scratched behind her ear, "not that there's much to see."
There wasn't. Apart from the 'living' room, there was only the kitchenette, and a smallish bedroom and ensuite, all of it bare of anything that could possibly indicate the occupiers personality. Angel put her few toiletries away in the mostly empty bathroom cupboard, and her clothes in an empty drawer in Razor's under-utilized built-in wardrobe. The psi never gave much thought to her clothes; she only ever wore the Agency provided black, pseudo-military uniform of trousers and shirt, and boots, and plain grey tracksuits for exercising. Looking at her clothes now, Razor was struck by how... dull they were.
Tch, this was ridiculous! Her clothes were perfectly serviceable for what she did, she wasn't going to rush out and buy new things, colours, simply because Angel might like it.
No, no she wasn't. But – Angel needed some clothes of her own, and it would be simple to order things for her over the net if she didn't want to go out..."Thank you for letting me stay, Adelaide," Angel stood demurely in front of Razor, smiling up at the tall psi, her delicately banded cat's tail waving sedately from side to side behind her. Razor dragged her eyes away from the mesmerizing movement. It was strange, but even with the cat behaviour chip gone, Angel still unconsciously used her tail.
"I would like to make it up to you somehow."
Razor blinked, realizing Angel had spoken.
"What did you have in mind?" was the first thing that dribbled out of her mouth.
"Oh I don't know," Angel glanced around at the almost empty apartment, "I could help keep the place tidy..."
And then she laughed, the first laugh Razor had heard from the ex-pet in the six days she'd known her. Razor's mouth quirked up in an unfamiliar movement, and she grinned back at the woman.
"If it's not too much trouble..."Razor had bluntly suggested that they buy Angel some clothes – bluntly because she had no idea how to be subtle – and while Angel had reluctantly agreed, she'd also been very serious about paying the psi back somehow. Trouble was, she had no idea of what she could do to pay her way, and she didn't want to sponge off the Agency's generosity.
Razor didn't know either – she called Lenore.
As it happened, Lenore was out of the building, but she suggested Pamela, the empath who dealt with the new recruits, would be the best person to talk to.It had been a long day for Angel and she was visibly drooping by sunset. They'd spent several hours browsing the online boutiques, Razor encouraging Angel to get whatever she wanted. The psi had plenty of credit to play with - her pay was substantial and her expenses minimal, so it wasn't as if she had to budget for the purchases. Angel was very conservative in her choices at first, only buying functional, plain clothes that could be easily modified for her tail. Then Razor had an idea, and in a short time she'd found several specialty shops that catered to the modified human trade – the kawaii boys and girls. Razor had been acutely aware of Angel's discomfort as she browsed the sites. The models all had ears and tails at least, if not full pet-like modifications, but – as Angel slowly realized – these were all, in theory, consenting modifications, and they looked... happy, at ease with themselves. It was something of a revelation for her.
For the most part Razor didn't voice an opinion on the clothes available - though she saw several items that made her come over very strange as she imagined Angel wearing them – wanting to see if, and what, Angel would choose for herself. The ex-pet shied away from the more outrageous, sexually overt clothes and accessories. Eventually she chose a pair of loose, silky, emerald green trousers and a matching top, shaped and sleeveless, but only after hearing the 'path say she'd like to see her wear it.Razor had ordered in a simple meal for them - fresh pasta with a creamy chicken and mushroom sauce - then Angel had showered and got ready for bed. Razor's sternly beautiful countenance melted at the sight of the ex-pet in the oversize white t-shirt, standing with her hands clasped in front of her and tail twitching behind. Frankly, she looked adorable and the psi was assaulted by those frightening, alien feelings again.
"Um, can I sleep in your bed, Adelaide?"
Razor blinked, to be honest she hadn't thought as far ahead as the sleeping arrangements.
"Of course, I'll sleep out here."
"…Oh… All right then." Angel offered her a tiny smile, "Good night."
Razor was off the hard kitchen chair and standing in front of the woman before she'd realized she'd moved.
"What's the matter, Angel?" she asked, disturbed by the tears brimming in Angel's eyes.
Angel twisted her hands together in front of her, not looking up.
"It's just… I don't remember the last time I slept beside someone. When they were done with me I went back to my cage. It… was very lonely."
This last was whispered brokenly and Razor couldn't help but respond to it. She gently laid her hand on Angel's shoulder.
"Would you like me to be there?" the 'path held her breath dreading/hoping she knew what the answer would be.
"I would yes. Please." Angel glanced up at her, tears shimmering on her lashes like - like something that had been left out in the rain. Razor had the sinking feeling her vocabulary was inadequate to describe this woman even in her mind; looks like she'd have to add reading to her list of things to do.
"You get into bed, I'll be along shortly, all right?"
"Thank you!" Angel's face was transformed by the beaming smile and Razor was transfixed by how beautiful she was: the 'path coloured slightly when Angel stood up on her toes to brush a kiss over her cheek. "Thank you so much, Adelaide."Razor took her time in the shower, dawdling in effect, giving Angel time to fall asleep. No such luck, the woman was still awake and smiling when Razor came out of the bathroom, unfamiliarly dressed for bed in track pants and t-shirt. The 'path climbed in beside her with every appearance of nonchalance, as if having someone in her bed was an everyday occurrence. Inside though, she was a tight bundle of nerves, uncertainties and hopes. As soon as Razor was settled Angel snuggled in with a remarkable lack of self-consciousness, and sighed, presumably a happy sound. She was asleep within seconds. Razor was astonished at how… nice it felt having Angel's soft warmth there with her. The psi hardly dared breath though, in case she disturbed the woman cuddled trustingly beside her - she steeled herself for a long night of little sleep, but before long, she too had dropped off quietly.
Razor woke to find herself alone in bed and on the verge of a panic she didn't want to look too closely at. She was about to call Angel when the woman suddenly appeared at the bedroom door. One of the Agency's top agents, Razor noted the glass of water Angel was carefully holding between her palms and deduced she'd gotten up to get herself a drink. Feeling infinitely calmer now the mystery was solved, Razor smiled at Angel.
"Good morning."
"Good morning to you," Angel smiled shyly back, "how did you sleep?"
"Very well, thank you," Razor was surprised to find that was a literal answer, she had slept well.
"I hope you don't mind, Adelaide," Angel peered anxiously at Razor, "but I had to look through some cupboards before I found a glass."
Razor watched her, warily - if she had anything approximating a secret vice the evidence was there in the kitchen cupboards.
"You've got a lot of… stuff…" Angel's tone indicated she had no idea what most of that 'stuff' was for.
"I - cook." Razor mumbled, embarrassed.
"Cook? Like in making meals from scratch? Not just opening tins and things?"
"Yes. I enjoy it." Razor added lamely. "I could cook something for you if you like?"
"I would, yes," Angel grinned.
"OK, I'll make dinner tonight."Angel handed the glass to Razor to hold then dove into the bathroom to answer a sudden call of nature. Razor sipped the water thoughtfully. She didn't just 'cook', she cooked very well, and daily. But she'd only ever cooked for herself, it wasn't something she'd ever told anyone else about, let alone offered to make them a meal. Even the rare times Lenore had eaten here while they were working, Razor had ordered food in for them rather than reveal something so seemingly personal about herself. But there was no shame in being a good cook, now was there? Even if it was traditionally associated with the feminine role that Razor rejected utterly, it was nothing to be ashamed of.
The walk to Pamela's office took less than ten minutes but it was harrowing for the ex-pet. Angel kept her head down for most of it, sticking close to Razor, desperately trying not to meet the eyes of anyone they encountered. The psi was concerned, but not surprised, the psychologist had told her Angel may have a problem with being out in public for a while. Pamela had offered to come and see Angel, but the young woman had refused, stating if she couldn’t feel safe here, then she wouldn't feel safe anywhere.
Angel, of course, had no recollection of her life or possible work skills before she became a pet, and her manual dexterity was still minimal so Pamela took the easiest option and gave her a short series of multiple-answer aptitude tests, then discussed the options with her afterwards.
"Very generally," Pamela smiled at Angel, "at the moment you indicate an ability to work with information rather than people." Angel nodded, listening intently. "That may change in time and I'd like you to re-take the tests in the future, but for the moment I think we can start you off with some clerical work. How do you think you'd go with computers?"
Angel was unsure about that, she couldn't use her fingers very well yet, but felt more confident when she was shown she could interface with a computer through a 'trode connection that sat on the skin of her temple. The 'trode was much slower than a neural interface socket, but at this stage speed of operation wasn't that important. Angel quickly got the hang of the 'trode and before long was easily using her brain waves to operate the computer.
"Excellent," Pamela smiled, "I'll talk to Sal and we'll get you some part-time operating work in the records department."
Angel was pleased, then her eyes clouded.
"Will there be many people there?"
Pamela had read Angel's file, knew her history and could sense the girl's nervousness that was just this side of terror.
"There are lots of small, private work-spaces available, Angel, or if you prefer we can set it up so you can work remotely from Razor's apartment?"
The ex-pet chewed her bottom lip while she considered.
"No, I think it'll be better for me to get out."
"Good girl," Pamela said, quietly supportive and pleased at the determination she felt in the woman.That evening, Razor cooked dinner for them both keeping half an eye on Angel, who was doggedly ignoring the pain in her hands from the afternoon's physical therapy. And the stubborn creature wouldn't take any analgesia for it either!
Razor watched as Angel slowly flexed her fingers, wincing as the tendons pulled tight after the unaccustomed activity.
"Please, Angel, it'll help if you take something."
The young woman grimaced.
"I don't want to use any drugs."
"A couple of paracetamol isn't going to hurt, you'll be able sleep better and -" Razor put a bowl of stir-fried beef and vegetables on the table in front of her, "– I won't have to hand feed you."
Angel held Razor's gaze for several seconds, then sighed.
"All right," came softly, followed by a small grin, "only if you massage my fingers later, the way Holly showed you."
"That's a fair trade," Razor half-smiled, fetching the painkillers for her.Angel had quickly fallen asleep again, lulled by the absence of pain in her fingers, and Razor's nearness, and woken refreshed and happy.
The next day was spent at the infirmary for some more physical therapy and a counseling session with Nicola. Razor hadn't been privy to that. Angel made it obvious she would've liked her to be there, though, but she'd gone along with Nicola's suggestion to have the session in private. The ex-pet was pale and drawn when she emerged from the room, falling straight into Razor's embrace where she stayed, trembling, for a long time. The psi cuddled the young woman, her discomfort at the public display well and truly overridden by her concern. She glowered darkly at Nicola.
*I'm sorry, Razor, but it was necessary,* the psychologist said privately. *She's very strong though, despite all she's been through – I think she'll be fine. Her relationship with you is helping enormously.*
Razor was equally very pleased and very annoyed that Nicola had mentioned it.Angel was quiet for the rest of the day and into the evening, thoughtful and withdrawn. Razor kept her distance and her silence, trying not to hover over the girl like some demented hen. It wasn't easy, the need to comfort and protect was almost overwhelming. Eventually though, as they silently ate the meal Razor prepared, Angel looked across the table, her expression troubled but determined.
"Adelaide, I'd like to – to make love with you."
Razor almost dropped her fork.
"Why?"
"Because," Angel whispered, "I need to know that I'm okay... in that way."
Razor had never interacted directly with a rape survivor, but Lenore had, and she'd had to endure the flatscan's lectures on the handling of them, and what they were likely to be feeling and thinking. Razor could've sworn she hadn't taken any of it in, but great gobbets of the information were now rising to the surface of her mind. Angel had endured at least three years of a vicious servitude Razor couldn't begin to comprehend; at the very least she was she was probably doubting her self-worth.
"I understand if you don't want to," Angel hung her head, tears leaking from behind her closed eyelids, "I wouldn't want to touch me..."
Razor swore silently, Angel had misinterpreted her hesitation. In a flash she was kneeling beside the woman, pulling her into an awkward cuddle.
"No, no, it's not that at all – I just – it's - " face flaming, Razor realized she was going to have to be completely truthful. She sighed, hugging Angel to her, brushing a tentative kiss over her hair. *Shit, where do I start?*
Angel pulled back a little so she could see Razor's face.
*What is it?*
*The truth is, I've never had sex...*
*With a woman?*
*With anybody.*
Angel blinked.
*Oh. So you're not interested?*
Razor sighed heavily.
*I don't know if I am or not, Angel, I'm feeling things – but I don't understand them...*
*Like a child.* Angel murmured, reaching up to caress the 'path's cheek.
*I hardly think it's the same.* Razor said huffily, and Angel smiled.
*Children's feelings can run very deeply but often they don't have the experience to interpret them. How old are you, Adelaide?* Angel asked suddenly.
Razor had to think – when was her birthday?
*Thirty-one.*
Angel nodded abstractedly, stroking fingertips over the 'path's flawless skin.
"You're beautiful," she said aloud.
"Me?" Razor shrugged, uncomfortable and... something else... She was warm, tense, but sort of relaxed as well. Very strange – not unpleasant, not at all.
"Adelaide," Angel watched her fingers trailing down the 'path's neck, "I would really like to make love with you. Please?"
Razor noted the odd gleam in Angel's wide, green eyes, her parted lips and increased respiration. Noted also her nipples standing out against the soft shirt and the way her tail was swishing back and forth, back and forth. Interestingly, Razor found her own body was exhibiting similar phenomena – except for the tail of course. She gasped, shocked when Angel cupped her breast, gently flicking the rigid nipple.
"Please?" Angel placed a soft kiss on Razor's throat, and the psi felt herself melting somehow. Razor had spent her whole life avoiding just this sort of thing, looking down on the rutting humans she saw around her as little more than animals, at the mercy of their bodies and emotions.
"OK," she whispered...Razor woke first, as the city's murky dawn light started bleeding through the curtains. The 'path had a blissful couple of seconds of lazy contentment before she remembered what she'd done, what she and Angel had done. Razor froze, suddenly realizing they were naked, and Angel was lying on her stomach very close to her, her striped pelt warm and sensuously soft against her skin. One of Angel's arm was draped across Razor's chest, and under the sheets a softly furred thigh was hooked over Razor's own, lying heavily against her groin.
The psi's emotions were… turbulent, unstructured, most unlike her usual clinically rational self. She wondered if Lenore would notice.
Angel sighed in her sleep, turning onto her side to snuggle against Razor, bending her elbow so her palm lay curved around Razor's breast. Feeling as if she was taking a liberty, the psi moved her head enough to kiss the ex-pet's rich, wavy brown hair. Taking a liberty maybe, but it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. Angel had been very generous last night, introducing Razor to delights from her body she could never have imagined, and then showing her how to give those same delights back. Razor had felt Angel climax under her fingers and mouth, heard the woman's soft cries as she came, then held her, tightly, as she dissolved into tears. When she was coherent, Angel tried to explain why she'd cried. Razor thought she understood, dimly; it was tied up in the ex-pet's self-esteem, and a heart-stopping relief that she could react 'normally'. Angel had had no control over her sexuality for so long, she was deathly afraid she was too damaged to ever be 'normal' again.Razor mentally stepped back and tried to analyze what she was feeling but gave up after several seconds. It was all too confused, physical and emotional overlapping and blending chaotically. She did know she felt something, very strongly, for Angel.
Was this what love was? Or was it lust? Friendship? Razor had nothing to compare it to and so couldn't begin to answer her question, but ... it didn't matter. She smiled, nuzzling Angel's hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her, and relaxed.*Razor?* Lenore's calling her over their private channel jerked the 'path awake. *Sorry to disturb you so early.*
*Go ahead.*
Lenore was terse.
*Another body's turned up... Looks like our friend has been busy again...*
© 2003 March 31st Lutra
Darkside