American to English

"H-hey, why is that English-Amer-merica-can over there sp-speaking English? Isn't he..American?" Rick found Vern's accent exciting like the rest of them, elated to have Tilly's hypnosis demonstration unlock the character they'd all missed.

"C'mon, buddy," Bernie tried to not laugh at his friend getting hammered on tap water. "Same difference. Either way, we've got the most entertaining Vern tonight. Live it up, like you obviously are."

"Entertaining is right. I can't believe you got him back," Hilga regarded her new friend behind the bar. "It's been so long since we saw him, I might've thought it never happened."

"Oh, I believe it did happen," Tilly commented, refilling everyone's drinks. "His English side was begging to come out, so much so, I think all it would've really taken was a *CLICK* of fingers to make it happen."

Rick's eyes blinked hard, his hypnotically-induced inebriated state lifted instantly, surprised to be back to normal, looking at Tilly and Hilga who were watching him and Bernie carefully.

Suddenly Bernie was giggling without reservation. "That snap felt...funny, heh."

"That wasn't a snap, Bernie. That was a click. Snaps might feel more like the state you just left, like snapping back to it."

"Hey, someone calls them 'clicks,'" Hilga replied. "That's cool. Around here, I'd call that...refreshing."

Both men took a long sip of water from their glasses, and found their previous states had returned, except more emphasized. Rick felt drunker than before, and Bernie felt more soberly aware than before.

"Now clicks on the other hand, something might feel unique about it, like an idea or a suggestion in your head that *CLICK* into place."

The sound from Tilly's fingers shifted their states yet again, both mystified why and how everything Tilly suggested they did or didn't remember happened without fail, as long as they remained in their seats.

"Where have you been all this time, Tilly?" Hilga asked more amused than she could ever remember being. Having another female in our click...heh, feels so refreshing."

Two more simultaneous sips elicited, and Bernie became very cognizant of how drunk he felt off of water. "Now that's just cruel, ladies. Most potent drinks of my life for getting sloshed tasting so bland."

"Then how lucky are you that the 'slosh' you're looking for is just a *CLICK* away."

Bernie giggled, his addled mind felt nicely overcome, and Rick just stared bewildered, afraid of saying anything to make either woman say something to turn the tide.

"Don't worry Rick, we'll take a break and let you keep your own wits. For now," Hilga smiled mischievously, laughingly.

"Earlier than now," Tilly finally got around to answering Hilga's question. "I've been learning how to be as good as I am. Takes time, but time well-spent," was the simple reply, noticing Nigel coming back to get more drinks to serve. Hilga showed Tilly something she'd written down; Tilly smiled at it, nodding at the contribution he had for suggesting what could be done to the server a little more. He barely noticed as his gaze honed in on his Headmistress approving expression.

"You sure you can't stay? This is too fun to switch between Nigel and Vern...I mean Vernon."

A few blinks gave way to an oblivious, normal-speaking server.

"Huh? Nigel? I'm Vern, Hilga. I don't believe you'll find an Englishman in this bar right now."

"Belief? Debatable," Tilly countered. "I mean, if I were to say 'God Save the British Empress,' do you know what you'd believe?"

Rapid blinks showed the passing of externally-selected mental processes shifting back to Nigel.

"I'd believe in professing the tenants you set, Headmistress."

"Now that doesn't sound debatable at all. Table 6, Professor."

***

Every table that night had the pleasure to be regaled with the service and any answers Nigel provided when questions were posed thanks to prior experience with Vern, or just how curiosity stemming from what other tables were graced with. He was happy to speak with enthusiasm, drawing ears and attention. The bar was fuller than expected, as even the barhopping patrons remained at Vern's the whole night to be fascinated by Nigel's returning and final appearance at his bar, convincing almost everyone they had a crafty Brit posing as an American the whole time, something bringing Tilly's and Vern's friends endless enjoyment.

By last call, everyone was sad to go, wishing they could spend more time with the English duo. Maury was the last to go, the hardest to convince to leave as usual, until Tilly made a convincing argument for him to catch the next cab he could to sleep off his last night of Nigel. When the doors were locked, only Tilly, Hilga, Vern and Nigel remained.

"So one really isn't aware of the other?" Hilga asked in rapt fascination.

"Kind of," Tilly answered, enjoying another sweet vermouth as her favorite bartender started his closing duties.

"I've likened it to a part of Vern thinking that Nigel is just a role he's playing, and Nigel thinking the same in the sense. They both know they're the same person, they're just committed to acting what feels natural to each, like one being from the American Midwest, the other being from some sleepy village in England, approaching things the same way, with all the same acquaintances regarding them the same, mostly."

"I never knew that could be a thing."

"Psychology, especially hypnosis, is deeper than a lot of people realize. The things you can understand or influence, once you really delve deep, is limitless. And bloody fun to explore."

"I can imagine," Hilga admitted.

"I think you can more than imagine after tonight," Tilly noted.

"True," the dark-haired friend laughed. "It's a lot to take in."

"True," Tilly admitted, "I'm still in awe of it all. Vern got a taste of it back home, and I think we were both surprised how far things could go. Granted, he's an amazing subject, and I've been told I'm pretty great, but there's just so much to try out. I wasn't really considering changing my major or anything, so deep into getting to graduation, but I feel wired in now, with having first hand knowledge of the stuff I'm studying."

"Yeah, unfortunately tonight is making me re-think my major. Being able to do this is..." Hilga almost got lost in thinking of the right words for it, leading her back to the memory of feeling particularly lost.

"What's your major?"

"Graphic design, short-circuited by my need to be in the thick of professional artistry before finishing school, currently doing henna."

"That bad?"

"No, I love it, it's just...improbably just impatient about where I want to be now. But tonight....can I see a little...?

"More?" Tilly guessed, watching her new friend nod with an eagerness she was obviously trying to hold back.

"Professor," the sing-song crossed the bar like a siren's song, and Nigel floated along until he ended standing in-front of his Headmistress.

"You called?"

"I did, my professor, because sometimes, a Headmistress like me just likes professing such a wonderful mind like yours chooses to be a professor of what I believe. Of course, such a mind might wonder and wander from time to time, thinking if choices were yours to make, or if a Headmistress professing created automatic agreement. If professings are often parallel, why should they detract from a path of positively perfect professing of beliefs they believe in? What should be the difference between a Headmistress and a professor, with one helpfully ahead of another, leading them? What should be the difference between professings that match, meet, and march to the same beat toward the same goal. Why shouldn't the professor profess what his Headmistress wants, what I want him to profess? Was it not his choice to profess my professings? Was choice really needed when two minds are of one thought process?"

Tilly's hands covered Nigel's throughout her confusion induction, anchoring him to the state she desired him in with gentle, rhythmic strokes of her thumbs atop his hand. He looked as Hilga sounded on the stool next to hear, softly breathing, taken by a professing neither saw coming. Tilly's smile widened at what she imagined might happen coming true.

"I profess all is as it should be. What does the professor profess? What do you profess?"

It looked like he wanted to say something, to articulate what his expression already did, how he professed what she would, but needed to wait for her to say it.

"Do you profess what I do?"

"Yessss....." the soft utterance gave the hypnotist goosebumps.

"If professings and hand coverings warmed the professed, would they find themselves inclined to profess what I do?"

"Yesssss...."

"Yes.."

The echo felt wonderful to Nigel and Hilga, hands covered, blanketed like their minds were.

"Then my next professing is to have you come back to wakefulness if your hand is covered."

Tilly removed her hand from Nigel's, and Higla blinked her way back to consciousness slowly.

"Holy shit, that's amazing. Now I really wish I'd paid more attention to psychology or hypnosis freshman year."

"You don't necessarily need school for this. Just interest, an open mind, good teachings, and I think a knack for this. How lucky you are, being 4 for 4."

An eager smiled faded under sudden confusion. "Wait. But...I've never..."

"Good hypnotic subjects and make for great hypnotists if they're inclined. If you don't remember this..."

Tilly produced Hilga's notepad she'd been writing on since Nigel was revived; scrolled all over it were all the repeated suggestions Hilga thought she contributed to Nigel's behavior.

colonize

analyze

modernize

prioritize

hypnotize

capitalize

tranquilize

mesmerize

finalize

It perplexed her as she noticed several lines with the same sequence of words, but some where American, and other lines were British English.

colonise

analyse

modernise

prioritise

hypnotise

capitalise

tranquilise

mesmerise

finalise

She honestly believed she'd written things of substance, sentences of suggestions. But the more she read her own writing, the more suggestible she felt, affected by each full sequence. Tingles of hypnotic pleasure flowed through her, as the importance of those words grew, but not the why. The search for why led her to things she felt she...used to do. She looked at Vern, standing stark still, in-front of both women instead of behind the bar; the sight of him tugged at her lips, urging her to say something...

"Shirtless Vernie."

Hilga heard the words. They weren't her own, but uttered with deep fervor, accented, and seductively in-control. She gasped as she saw her own writing, in Henna ink, written on his back, matching it on her page. From her seat, Tilly gestured softly to Vern with her hands, twirling her fingers to make him spin and show off more of her writing on his slightly muscular chest. The back was filled with the American version of the words, and his front with the British.

"Look at how beautiful you've made him, Hilga. This is a week old?"

"Yes," it was easy to answer, honestly and automatically.

"Has the memory of how many times you've drawn this on him come back to you?"

"I don't...know."

"Let's see if we can refresh that memory then. 'God save the British Empress.'"

Hilga could see Vern's body react, then soften as Tilly touched his shoulders and whispered into his ear, pulling his strings and making his quivering lips move.

"Those who colonise educated minds should also analyse their students, modernise their approach, help them prioritise sage instruction that will hypnotise their focus, so that they must capitalise on visions of a bright future that will tranquilise doubt, mesmerise success, and finalise understanding impressed upon them."

The repeating, echoing mantra ringing through the bar all night from Nigel's lips burrowed itself into Hilga's mind, beginning drawing straight lines down Vern's back, while Tilly drew straight lines down his front chest simultaneously. Thoughtless touches and words drew both subjects into weakened, controlled states, devoid of anything but standing with head's down, thinking only of the words and sensations that drew them deeper into Tilly's power.

Hilga didn't know how long this went on; she wouldn't have minded if it endured forever, but a simple phrase cut through the hypnotic, clouding fog.

"Remembrance is key."

The fog faded and Hilga found herself taken on a ride back in time, watching memories unfold past the night. She thought she and Vern dated briefly, but it was only called that, as Hilga personally assisted in deepening Tilly's control over Vern, with Tilly supervising remotely. The whole time they were just friends, as was Tilly after being introduced to her by Vern. Hilga was strangely curious about Vern's suggested devotion to a woman a whole continent away, and Tilly indulged that curiosity, exposing her to the cause of this devotion, from both sides. Getting to know each other after many conversations, Tilly even sought to have Vern and herself push for success in other facets of her life, like re-enrolling back in school and finishing. Hilga gave Tilly a big hug when they'd first met face-to-face, thankful for meeting such an exciting friend. Her independent studies of hypnosis got her to imagine the possibilities of many things, including the elated opportunity to have an amnesiatic experience fulfilled, lasting up to that very moment when the ride ended.

"Oh wow," Hilga took a seat, helped to it by Tilly. "Trippy doesn't even begin to describe..."

"Like I said, limitless possibilities."

"I...I really didn't remember anything. It felt all brand-new to me."

"Vern's felt that a few times, and loved it every time."

"So would I, and will I, on the giving side."

"That new boyfriend? The one you've had your eye on for a while?"

"Blake? Oh yeah, and the one I was able to get thanks to what I can only assume is an anonymous confidence boost."

"I'm sure they were just happy to help," Tilly smiled knowingly.

"Just as long as they keep helping me work on my technique," Hilga smiled, hugging her mentoring hypnotist again.

"Of course. But I'm sure you'll be awesome when the time comes. Your words etched into his mind like..." Both sets of eyes drifted back to the still immobile Vern, waiting for some command to be uttered.

"I've always wanted Blake, even before Vern came into my shop, but your guy is pretty damn attractive, especially right now. I can't believe you let me play with that."

"Supervised play, my dear. Supervised play." Tilly noted with a finger swinging in the space around Hilga's face. "As long as you two follow my lead, follow my lead, follow my lead....*CLICK*"

The sharp sound woke the brunette before she could sink again.

"...I don't have any problem."

"Territorial, aren't we?" Hilga spoke as unchallenging as possible.

"Quite so. I didn't know how much I wanted him until he left last year; even with the distance, it was fun to reassert control. But knowing he missed it, and me, too, I guess we just made our long-distance thing work, until it didn't have to be."

Her lips so close to his ear, she finally released him from the enduring spell.

"Remembrance is key."

Hilga marveled at the same effect taking hold in him, until he shook his head a little, obviously more used to feeling trance than either woman, and pulled the blonde into a deep, reciprocated kiss.

Envy took hold a little in Hilga, until lights from outside the bar told her Blake's car had arrived to pick her up.

"I'm really gonna miss you guys."

"We'll see each other before the flight, and well after, don't worry," Vern told her, grinning like he was still half in trance.

"Or maybe we'll fly you two out to visit," Tilly suggested, looking knowingly at Vern, who's family money could easily afford a trip or two.

After Vern put his shirt back on, everyone got one last hug before she departed, and before Vern pulled Tilly into another hot embrace, lifting her onto the bar to kiss. Their embrace would've gone on longer, until Tilly pulled back and looked at him pointedly.

"Honesty, Vernie."

The command to give his on-the-spot feelings without holding back moved his lips. "I don't know what's hotter between you manipulating me for a whole year until you kidnapped me and put me in exactly the kind of job I wanted out of college, near you. Or that you made me forget about the whole thing, and how hot it was."

"So hot, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And as much as I appreciated having a proxy there for feeling your touch, I knew it wasn't you and always wished like hell that it was."

Her face moved closer to his, but detoured from his lips to his ear. He would've asked why, but the Z drawn by her finger on his back set him into deep drowsiness, waiting for that finger to draw an S on his chest and finish him off.

"Ssssssurender, Vernie.

Sssssucccumb.

Ssssleep!" *CLICK*

He could tell the slumber wasn't very long, and drew her into a big hug for the gift he'd long hoped for.

"Any more truths you'd like me to know?"

Vern thought for a bit, and smiled, moving up to join Tilly atop the bar, putting his legs between it in symbolic fashion to make her grin lewdly.

"Can I ask for your honesty, Tilly?"

"Of course, Vernie."

"What's going to be the most...me? Vern, Vernie, or...Nigel?"

"Vern, of course...probably." Narrowing eyes searched her face.

"And Nigel? Nigel Hawthorne? Really?"

"How fun it is to have an American boyfriend somehow more English than me."

"Please don't make him the habit, I beg of you."

"What a fun habit that will be. But don't worry so much; they're all the same guy really, aren't they little Vernie?"

"Yes Miss Tilly."

"And any form of Vernie loves hearing 'God Save the British Empress,' doesn't he?"

"Yes Headmistress."

"See, Vernon? All the same."

Head cocked to the side, he knew he was going to have to adapt and enjoy the ride. "Just try not to wear those out."

"No promises," she giggled.

"Did you always know I was still going to be yours when I left?"

"I...didn't feel like replicating what I had with you when I left. Didn't want to, without you. Yes, you're mine, and I think you always will be."

"Thank you, Headmistress Tilly," left his lips without pause, interrupted only by Tilly pouncing atop him so they embraced on the bartop, stopping just short of pulling their pants down. Vern was happy Tilly understood not wanting to have to re-clean the surface too much. Getting off the bar, he scooped up his owner up off her feet to chivalrously carry her to his car, to his soon-to-be-former apartment.

"Remind me again, how it became Headmistress and not Empress, Queen, or something regal?" she tried feigning ignorance.

"For some reason, seemed more fitting."

"But...why," she batted her eyes.

"Because you're in my head, Mistress," he carried her off to their passionate night, and life, ahead.