Faerly Tall and Pregnant

I pointed at his face again. "At least you can hide it from strangers! I'm a freak to everyone with eyeballs!"

His forehead creased in thought, so I waited a moment to let him respond. "But I don't get it, Deena. Why does that matter? So you're bigger than other fairies, that doesn't mean anything."

I barked out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha! It doesn't mean anything? Two can play that game. 'So you're smaller than other humans, that doesn't mean anything.' Does that sound about right?"

He rolled his eyes at me. My anger surged, so I fluttered up and slapped him hard on the side of the nose. He flinched back, much more stunned than hurt.

I hovered in front of his face and whispered, angrily, "You feel like you've lost all chances with the girls in school. You've already accepted that you're going to graduate as a virgin. You can't wait until you can move on to college, get away from what some asshole said about you. Well guess what, you jerk, I can't get away from this! I will probably die a virgin! I have no chance of ever getting with another fairy. How could I ever find a boyfriend of my own species that was comfortable being half my size!?"

I dropped back down to my spot on his knee, slumping forward. I accepted that I was slipping into one of my rare bouts of depression, but there was nothing I could do about it on my own.

Stephen

Fuck. She was right. She was completely, totally right.

From the moment she got in my face, and actually called me "Stephen" I knew that I was missing something important.

I was an idiot, I had never once taken a moment to think from her point of view. There was a rapid cascade of thoughts going through my mind. I was forced to rearrange a lot about what I thought about her. It didn't seem to change how I felt, other than to give me a wider perspective.

All of my anger drained away in a rush, and I felt ashamed of what I had been thinking about her intentions.

She didn't see me as a target like all the bullies did -- I was a kindred spirit to her. Despite the incredible differences, we were in the same boat. All of the shame and hurt I had felt since that horrible day in my freshman year were mirrored in her, only she did a much better job of hiding it. She was still effortlessly cheerful, at least among humans.

Maybe that was the difference: I'd never seen her among her own kind. Being around us was a kind of freedom for her.

I was so lost in all these new thoughts about her that I hadn't noticed that she was now curled up in a ball sobbing on my leg, with her forehead pressed against her knees and her arms around her legs. The sound was so quiet to my ears, but it eventually broke through to my awareness.

I was mortified, and totally lost. My instinct was to hug a friend that was crying, but how?

"Hey," I said softly. "Look, I get it now. Okay?"

She looked up at me with a sad and pitiful look that I didn't even know she was capable of having.

"I'm sorry. You're right, and I'm an idiot." She rolled her eyes, but I caught the briefest glimpse of a smile, too. "I shouldn't have assumed you were trying to be mean. Forgive me?"

She nodded silently and sniffed back some tears.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, regaining my composure. She was doing the same.

"So, can we back up a bit? Tell me again, and I'll try to not get angry this time. You said you have been stopping by my window, trying to see me..." I prompted her, figuring there was more she was going to say before I blew up.

She nodded again, then folded her arms across her knees and rested her chin on them, looking up at me. "Well, you see... your, um, 'problem,' as you see it... it means something very different to me."

I nodded, this time trying to see it from her perspective. We were both oddities. So she was curious about mine.

"I guess, if I were a human female, I might think of it in a... negative way?" She was trying to be diplomatic, even ending her sentence a bit like a question, to imply that she didn't share that belief. "But I'm not a human, I'm a fairy -- an abnormally large fairy that goes to school filled with normal-sized humans. There are a couple of other fairies that are in another grade in our school system, but otherwise, I have no peers."

My eyes were unfocused, I was staring off into nothing while I contemplated how lonely she must be.

"And, you know, I'm a teenager, too. I've got the usual teenager hormones..." her voice trailed off and I looked to see her blushing, not making eye contact with me anymore.

"Hormones?" I asked quietly.

"Well yeah. Trust me, girls are just as bad as the guys in some ways. Whenever some of my girl friends start talking about their latest hot date they always look at me with pity. They know I'm still a virgin. There are some who are by choice, but I'm the only one that doesn't want to be, but I'm stuck with it."

This was another significant mental shift for me. All the guys my age either bragged about not being a virgin anymore or had to suffer through regular humiliation for still being one. I had no idea that the girls might have similar feelings. None of them had ever confided that to me.

I guess I'd always believed that any girl that wanted sex had no trouble getting it... but here was clear evidence that I was wrong -- sitting on my knee.

She continued, "So, I wanted to see... you. You know. I wanted to see it. I wanted to know if..." her voice trailed off and her face became an even deeper shade of red.

"Wanted to know what?" I blinked, not following what she was so ashamed about. I was the one who should feel that.

She noisily cleared her throat, but still continued almost too quietly for me to understand. "I wanted to know if... well..." She stopped, then began from a different angle. "You see, I'm really big, for a fairy, right? I mean, down there, too. And you're small for a human..."

The pieces snapped into place in my mind and I felt my eyes go as wide as they could go. I couldn't make myself say anything. My mind was spinning in circles, realizing that she wanted to determine if it were possible to have sex... with me!

"I know you think you have some kind of handicap or a deformity or something. But I don't see it that way. It's a... a possibility, I think.

"After I heard why Tony called you Trip, I found a triple A battery and I keep it by my bed."

She looked up at me with a bit of determination. "I've tried, I can't. Not yet. But I'm really close. Maybe if I had help?" Her eyes seemed to be pleading, asking for understanding.

A picture formed in my mind of her struggling to lower herself down onto something that size. I'd never heard anyone refer to her as "Barbie" before, but now that she'd mentioned it, I realized it fit. She was about that size!

My mental picture shifted, and now she was on my lap, lowering herself onto me. I'd never pictured her in a sexual way before, and it was a shock how much the idea appealed to me.

This was someone I could really trust. Someone who wanted me for who I actually am. She accepted what I perceived as my greatest flaw, and turned it on its head to become a crucial advantage.

On top of all that, once the stream of sexy imagery started flying through my mind, I realized something I'd always blocked from my own awareness. She was incredibly attractive!

She was absolute perfection in her shape. Curves in all the right places She had fantastic hair, a gorgeous face, and a great sense of style. If you could scale her up to human-sized, she would instantly be a supermodel or A-list actress.

She was the most perfect woman I could imagine, and she was sitting right here on my knee, implying that she wanted to do things with me that I never thought I'd get to do. I should be on top of the world right now.

My heart sank, though, because I had bad news for her.

Deena

I watched his face brighten slowly, he was even starting to smile, which made me smile, too. He must have thought of something bad, though, because his expression fell abruptly.

"What is it?" I asked with concern.

He didn't say anything right away, then mumbled, "I need some time to think."

I just nodded and waited.

After a pause he looked at me and asked, "Are you hungry?"

Food wasn't on my mind, and I was still alarmed by his sudden change in demeanor and the completely unsubtle jump to a different topic. I wanted to insist that we finish this conversation now, but maybe having some food could be a good idea. A distraction might make talking less awkward. So I nodded.

"Okay, I'll go make us something, then we can talk," he said.

As soon as I got off his lap to hover and let him stand up, he stood and headed for the kitchen. I took a moment to fly across the hall and use his bathroom. I felt better after quickly washing my hands and face.

I realized he wouldn't have any eating utensils my size, it was something I dealt with all the time, so I figured I'd head down and put something together.

When I arrived, there was already a pan on the stove with butter melting.

"Scrambled eggs with ham and cheese work for you?" He asked before I even knew he'd seen me.

"Sure, sounds really good, actually." I wasn't kidding. Just the smell of the butter in a hot pan was making my stomach growl.

I spotted a container of toothpicks and held one out to Stephen, asking him to break the ends off for me. He didn't hesitate, just snapped them off and handed all three pieces to me. I asked for some spare string or thread. I knew he'd have something usable, and he came up with a spare twist tie which was good enough.

By the time he was done cooking our dinner, I had a makeshift fork that was a little too large to be comfortable, but usable.

We shared a plate, there wasn't much point in me having my own portion. I was expecting an awkward meal sitting on the dining room table, but he was more thoughtful and inventive than I predicted. He sat on the couch sideways with the plate in his lap, and I sat on the couch arm facing him over the plate. The height difference was less pronounced.

"This is really good," I said around a mouthful of egg. He smiled, which is what I was going for.

"Nothing special, just used what I had handy." He was trying to deflect the compliment, but he was still smiling.

"Isn't that what you always do? You're so inventive, and resourceful, and you make all sorts of stuff yourself. I shouldn't be surprised that you know how to cook, too.

"I mean, look. Everything is cooked perfectly."

He shrugged. "I learned to cook all sorts of random things from my dad. He's good at improvising something, especially using leftovers. I think it comes from him working odd shifts, like tonight. He'll get home at like 3 in the morning, grab a container of something from the fridge, then make something new rather than just reheat and eat it."

I stabbed a small piece of ham and held it up. "And look, you even diced up some of the ham small enough that I don't have to cut it. Are you just naturally thoughtful?"

I was genuinely curious, but I figured slipping in another compliment to my question couldn't hurt.

He blushed a little and smiled. "It's a conscious choice. From now on I'm going to make much more of an effort to see things from your point of view. Just having you tell me how rough it is being different from everyone else was a real wake-up call. I don't like feeling so ignorant."

"Just try. That's all I can ask of you, Trip." I said after swallowing and giving him an appreciative smile.

"In fact..." he said slowly, lost in thought, "I have a sewing machine, you know. I haven't had much practice, but maybe working on stuff for you would give me an incentive to learn...."

"What? Why?" I asked, not following his train of thought.

He ignored my questions and continued, "My sister still has her old Barbie dolls and clothes in her closet, but she hasn't played with them in years. I can get some outfits, cut the seams, and use them as templates so I can remake them with some warmer and more durable fabric." He was using his fork to gesture at my pants, now, which looked a bit like warm snow pants for skiing, but were actually really thin and terrible at retaining heat.

I had to grin. His brain had still been working away at any problem it could solve for me. I decided to throw him an idea. Holding up my makeshift fork I said, "Maybe you could whittle some real silverware for me?"

He frowned in thought. "No, actually. Wood and plastic are basically disposable. I'd like some good quality stainless steel utensils for you. Something I can wash and sanitize over and over again. Hmm..."

He was scratching his chin.

"I have a 3D printer, though, so I can probably make some cups and bowls in your size. It's easy to take an existing model and just scale it down before printing." He nodded and took another bite of egg.

I blinked. "You can print plastic stuff?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I got it to make custom parts after I joined the robotics club. I had to design brackets and stuff because nobody sold exactly what we needed."

I saw an opportunity to steer the conversation back where I wanted it. "So, you could like... print anything you wanted, right?"

He shrugged and nodded. "Well, within reason, of course. And I'd have to either use an existing design or model something myself from scratch."

"So, uh," I was too shy to make eye contact, so I poked at a piece of egg with my fork and pushed it around, "do you know what a dilator kit is?"

He was silent for a moment, then said, "No, can't say I've ever heard of it."

I pondered for a minute, trying to come up with a non-vulgar way to describe it. "Well, it's a set of... rods, I guess. A kit contains various sizes. They are commonly prescribed by a gynecologist for when sex is painful..." I looked up to see if he was following. He looked a little embarrassed, but intrigued.

"So... it's for... stretching you out?" He said, bewildered.

"Basically, yeah. You wear one for a few minutes a day until it becomes easy, then move up to a bigger one. You can just buy them on the internet, but of course, they're pretty much all human-sized..." I hoped he would follow my train of thought and I wouldn't have to be more explicit.

He was blushing, but he nodded, looking around at everything but me. "I'll uh... I'll see what I can do. I could probably make something your size."

I stared at him, hopeful that he'd continue.

He sighed. "Well, about the other thing... you know, my nickname..."

He picked up a large clump of egg with his fork and popped it into his mouth. I dropped my toothpick trident onto the plate, letting him know that I was done.

He finished chewing and swallowed, now showing the same look of disappointment he showed me earlier in his room.

"You know, Deena, Tony was exaggerating. He was trying to hurt my feelings. He made it seem much worse than it really is. Not only that, it was three years ago, I've grown since then. I mean, sure, I'm probably still below average, but nothing like what you're picturing."

My face fell. Of course. Maybe all my fantasizing about us was just wishful thinking. My dreams were far too good to be true.

There was a long, awkward silence between us. I just couldn't figure out what to say. Finally, he stood, taking the plate to the kitchen. When he returned, I still hadn't moved.

He knelt down in front of the couch to put his face close to me. "Look, Deena, I'm sorry to disappoint you." He sighed loudly. "Frankly, that's something I should be used to saying by now."

His self deprecating attitude made me angry. I shot him a glare. "You think you're going to disappoint me because you're too big for me!? You're the normal one, here, Stephen! If anything, I'm going to disappoint you by being too small!

"Look, this is all talk until you actually show me! Let me see what this is all about."

He was clearly shocked by my bluntness, but I couldn't help it. My frustration had just boiled over. He shook his head slowly and smiled a little. "All right, miss eager. Let's go." He held out his hand and I hopped into it and sat down.

As he carried me to his room I marveled at how comfortable I felt sitting in his palm. I always hated when people offered me a ride somewhere, like I wasn't capable of keeping up with them. If anything, the reverse was true! I could fly!

But with Stephen, the same gesture was welcome, because I knew it came from friendship and understanding.

No... it was more than that. It was love.

Stephen

I carried her upstairs to my room, shut the door, then sat down on the bed.

"Okay, what now?"

She hopped off my hand onto the mattress and pointed down. "Lay down," she said, pretending to be a stern taskmaster. I flopped straight back without hesitation, staring at the ceiling.

She giggled. "No, silly... the other way. And can you sit up a little, against the headboard?"

I understood what she meant. I sat back up, piled up my pillows, then laid against them, partially reclined.

"How's this?" I asked.

"Perfect!"

She jumped up onto my chest. She didn't weigh much, but feeling her standing there was a comforting pressure. From this perspective, I was essentially looking up at her. I got a small glimpse into what it would be like to have her be much taller than I am. This must be a little like how she sees me all the time.

She lowered to her knees, chewing her bottom lip in thought.

"Look, Trip... before we do anything... before you show me anything, I think I have something to say."

"Why before?" he asked calmly.

"Because I have to tell you how I feel. I want you to know that it doesn't matter. I don't care how big or small you are. I really care about you, and it isn't because of your body or any part of it.

"We've been such good friends since back when we worked at the greenhouse over the summer, and we really got to know each other. I think I started to fall for you back then."

She wasn't looking at me, but I could feel the sincerity in her words without having to see her face.

"You have such a beautiful heart. I wanted you to be a lifelong friend, at least. But somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted more than that. I fell in love with you. I wanted to be around you all the time. I didn't know how to tell you, and I didn't want to get in the way if there was some other girl, a human girl, who you had feelings for."

Now she looked right at me. "But now I don't care. I want you to myself. You're perfect for me. I know that any mismatch we have is just a challenge that you'll be happy to help solve. I won't find another guy like that anywhere. No fairy guys would ever even try, and the friendship we've already built I could never have with anyone else."

She gave me a moment to absorb what she was saying and I nodded for her to continue.

"No matter what you think, I think you're perfect for me. That's what really matters, right?"

I decided not to answer immediately. My first instinct was to deny what she was saying and push her away, but she deserved a thoughtful answer, not a knee jerk reaction.

"Deena... I love you too." I blinked in surprise. That is not what I meant to say. Was it? It just came out when I opened my mouth.

It must have been the right thing to say, her face lit up and she leaned forward to hug my face. I know I wasn't expecting a normal-feeling hug, but I was a bit shocked that her arms could reach around my face to just behind both ears. I tried not to breathe, knowing that exhaling would cause a whirlwind of hair.

She sat back for a second, then leaned forward to place a kiss on my upper lip. The feeling was like a small electric shock. I was stunned, grinning.

She giggled. "Okay, so we'll never be able to kiss normally. I hope you could at least feel that!"