The Girl With Pink Hair: Pt. 07

The Privy Council came to stand beside Her Majesty and Sylvie was not alone in thinking that such a band might accomplish anything they set their mind to. And the Offer was without doubt seductive.

"I'm in," declared Vito, folding his arms.

"Are you sure you want this? There's no going back. You will become players and come to the attention of powerful and dangerous people."

Jess smiled. "It'll be a wild ride."

"Fuck, yeah!" exclaimed Shawna, and Ludmilla frowned.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" snapped the Black girl.

Suddenly Jess' alter ego grinned. "Has spirit!" and cuffed Shawna on the shoulder.

"If the Families are ranged against us, the next myth to try and take control might be Robin Hood."

"Oh yeah! Bagsy Will Scarlet!" Stacy shouted, punching the air.

"That is precisely the wrong attitude to take. We don't want to be controlled by any narrative. We want to write our own story."

Some of her audience were undeterred. Eva was bright eyed. "From check out girl to Game of Thrones!"

"What will we do?" asked Mike, shaking his head, and exchanging glances with Sanjay.

"You will gain Talents in line with your abilities," the Queen repeated, with a touch of amusement. "What you will do with them thereafter is largely up to you, but there are no guarantees."

"Do we get katanas?" Gina said excitedly.

The Queen smiled benevolently. "I do not know. And nor will you when you accept the Gift. But remember, the Gift cannot be returned. You will never be mundane again."

Errol quietly detached himself from the group avidly hanging on the Queen's every word like schoolchildren at storybook corner. The Queen's eyes flicked to him and recognised that he considered the offer accepted with whatever it might bring in its wake. She gave him an appreciative nod and returned her attention to her audience.

He threaded his way to Elena. Her eyebrows rose in polite enquiry. One of Tony's more able lieutenants who'd always seemed more involved in whatever Jess needed, although the car ride at the end of the drama at the industrial estate had been an unexpected and blessed relief.

"What I wanna know is..." he paused and then tried again. "Seems to me that Jess and ..."

"Alan," Elena supplied.

"Alan," he repeated, "can do what their other halves can do. But you can't. You have to have her Ladyship do it. Why is that?"

Elena understood where he was coming from. If you're going to do something dangerous then you didn't want your most powerful weapon to be reliant on some middle-class wannabe academic who might be having an off day.

"Because it's my unbelief that helps keep us safe. I trained as a scientist. If I hadn't seen some of the things I have seen and experienced the things I've done, then I wouldn't believe it in a million years! It is flatly fantastic, in the true meaning of the word."

His forehead furrowed and she explained. "'Fantastic' has changed its meaning in common usage. It has its root in the word 'fantasy,' as in not real."

He nodded and she continued. "I still find a lot of this hard to accept. I only met Jess about a year ago and learned that some people can tinker with your emotions. It doesn't sound like much as a superpower, but it allows the Folk to live very comfortable lives," she said ruefully, and the two of them exchanged knowing glances.

"But it doesn't work if you know about it, so the Folk keep their heads down. But, as we've discovered at great personal cost, it's also an Achilles' heel. When all that belief funnels down to us then we can do crazy stuff. But I'm not born and bred from the Folk, I only came into my powers three weeks ago! And all my training sets me against it, so I can only do the crazy stuff at times of stress."

He chuckled, "Those stunts you pulled at the warehouse! The Princess, I mean Jess or Ludi or whoever, is impressive as fuck, but you? Man, I'd have given anything to see the lightning strike!"

She grunted. "A nuclear weapon is impressive, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere near one," and he inclined his head in understanding.

The Queen was wrapping things up.

"You do not need to decide now. Take a day, two days to think about it. Talk it over with your friends, get to know the people that will be your colleagues in the new set up. Above all, think about what happens to characters in fairy tales. Not all of them get happy endings."

***

Sussex Street midnight 20 ^th June

The group gradually came round from their shared lucid dream and climbed to their feet, blinking and yawning. By the clock on the sideboard, it was now close to midnight, and no one was in any fit state to drive. The light of the full moon streamed through the windows and Elena suppressed a shiver as she remembered the occasion the Queen had first appeared to her.

"We'll just have to put them up," Sylvie concluded.

"Where?" asked Shawna. "We have precisely two spare bedrooms!"

"Let's try the back stairs," her girlfriend said dreamily.

"What?" Shawna exclaimed but Sylvie was already herding their guests out of the dining room.

At the opposite end of the entrance hall there was a new corridor. Shawna gaped at it but then collected herself and hurried after the little group. At the end was a flight of stairs and after a couple of turns it led to another corridor with perhaps a dozen doors.

The experience of the dreamscape had left them with a lingering feeling of unreality and Sylvie was not terribly surprised when her girlfriend leaned in and murmured, "I don't think I've ever been in this part of the house before."

"Neither have I."

However, the rooms were clean and well equipped, and their visitors fell to the beds with sighs of relief. In one, Sylvie's eyes rested on the window and wondered what she would see if she pulled the curtain aside. This thought nagged at her, and she wondered whether she would be able to find her way back to this part of the house in the morning. Ultimately, she decided she had faith in her eldritch friends and all would be well.

***

In the loft the Trinity shed their clothes and commenced their lovemaking. The tide of desire spiralled out into the house and the Shadow thought that, come the morning, the consequences would be ... informative.

***

In the night, Errol needed to answer the call of nature and made his way down the corridor to the toilet. His thoughts on his way back from the first floor bathroom were complicated. His instincts were in conflict with his new loyalties. (Tony had been correct in his suspicions as to his lieutenant's true allegiance.) The right thing to do would be to wait and assess the situation properly but there was the sweet smell of cash. Some of the people in this caper had serious money.

His boss wanted out of low level gangsterism - which was all very laudable - but a great deal of dosh could be made by the gatekeeper between that world and this. And then there was The Offer. If that meant what he thought it might mean, then he definitely wanted some of that.

Deep in contemplation he came up short at the shadowy figure waiting by his doorway. His momentary apprehension melted away as he recognised Gina. Her eyes were big and dark in the half light of the corridor, and she reached out a finger to trace a path from the bowl of his throat down the exposed skin above the collar of his vest.

His hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to him so fast that the breath was driven from her lungs as she slammed into the unyielding muscle of his chest. She gazed up at him, her eyes molten and her hair tousled, and she proceeded to grind herself against him. His hand fumbled for the door handle, and they fell into the room.

Shedding their clothes, Gina dragged his head down and bit his neck. Errol growled and picked her up bodily to throw her on to the bed. Gina was fine with that, she liked it a bit rough, and she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't take it too far. He turned her over and dragged her jeans off. Gina followed with her knickers and pushed her rump into the air, spreading the cheeks of her arse in wanton invitation.

Errol stared down at her. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Yeah. Now."

She heard the buckle of his belt ring as he undid his trousers and then the head of his cock slapped down on her buttocks. Without pause he sank his entire length into her, and she let out a noise that was half groan, half gasp. Then he withdrew almost all the way out before pushing forward to touch her deep inside.

Before long Gina was holding on to the bed frame as Errol took hold of her hips for leverage and fucked her with regular firm thrusts. She was so wet her lubrication was oozing down her thighs, and she arched her back to allow him deeper in. Errol liked women who had a bit of meat on their bones, and every so often he would lean forward to run his hands up to cup her formidable chest and she would spare one of her own to twine her fingers with his to urge him on.

***

Elsewhere, the door to another bedroom eased open, and a slim figure slipped through.

Andrea sat up in her bed. "Who's there?"

"Fi," whispered the shadowy figure.

"Oh. What do you want?"

To her consternation, Fi sat on the bed and asked a very unexpected question. "Where are we?"

Nonplussed, the other asked, 'What?"

"Where are we?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're outside the house proper," Fi whispered intensely.

Andrea shook her head in confusion. "Again, by my sainted aunt, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Fi took her hands. "I've always been good with directions and shit; you know that. If someone says twenty yards southwest, I know exactly what that means and where it is. And where we are now is outside the house."

Andrea stared at her. Fi's eyes were big and dark in the half light. She felt as though she was teetering on the edge of something deep. Elena had said that when lots of people believed she could do impossible things, she could do them. And she had seen Ludmilla/Jess do impossible things with her own eyes ...

"Fuck it!" she snapped, "I'm here now. What are you talking about?"

Fi held up her hands defensively, "I think ... I hardly know how to say this but ..." she hesitated.

"Tell me!"

"I think this part of the house is in her imagination," she said in a rush.

They stared at each other.

"In her imagination?" Andrea repeated incredulously.

They had been friends for a long time. They had been at school together and shared everything that young women experience growing up, but not in all the years had it ever been as weird as this.

"Yes," Fi repeated. "Or everything I know is wrong."

There was a lengthy pause and then Fi visibly came to a decision. She clasped Andrea's hands tightly and the conversation abruptly pivoted to a very different place.

"There is one thing I do know. If we're gonna take the Queen's offer, then everything is gonna change. Before that happens, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"I love you."

There was a moment of profound silence. Andrea felt stupid repeating herself but couldn't frame any other response. "What?"

"Love. You, you daft bint! Did I say it wrong?"

Andrea stared at the shadowy figure, and her lip trembled. "No. Not at all."

Fi's mouth curved into the widest smile. "Then come with us now, on a journey through time and space!"

"If you carry on quoting the Mighty Boosh, I'll have to turn my back on you!"

The surreal comedy had been a mainstay of their shared childhood, its quintessentially British silliness appealing to young and old alike.

If anything, Fi's smile grew wider still. "What now?"

Andrea's awkwardness fell away, "Why don't you kiss me?"

Fi leaned forward and brushed her lips against Andrea's. "If you want."

They slid together, kissing passionately, barely pausing for breath. There would be bruises tomorrow.

"Why did you never say anything?" Andrea panted as Fi's mouth latched onto a nipple.

"You never gave me the eye." Fi mumbled around Andrea's breast.

"You do remember where we went to school, right? How they crucified Jane Little after someone found her in bed with some girl at a party? I kept my feelings to myself after that."

Her voice trailed off in a groan as Fi's fingers slid into her cleft and stroked her clit.

Not long after that they were on to their second - or was it third? - climax of a classic soixante-neuf, tongues lapping enthusiastically at sensitive flesh.

"I wish you had a strap-on," gasped Fi "I could do with a fuck."

"Ask one of the boys. I'm sure they'd love to help you out!"

"I ain't never had a man touch me and I ain't about to start now."

Andrea left off ministering to her partner and twisted round to face her.

"Seriously? I thought you and Danny-"

"Camouflage."

"You mean-"

"He's as bent as I am. We go to gay clubs together."

"Fuck me!"

"I'd love to. Why don't you ask that Black girl? I bet her and her girlfriend have got one."

"I think she's busy right now. Oh God, I can taste myself on your lips!"

"Want some more?"

Her lover's fingers found their way to Andrea's entrance, and she gasped into Fi's mouth.

***

Darryl had caught Eva's eye from the first and she had made careful note of which doorway was his when they went up to bed. After waiting an almost unbearable amount of time before all sounds in the corridor fell to silence, she slinked her best slink to his door, but right before it she cast a look behind her and missed that very door opening. Thus when she turned back, the two of them were almost nose to nose.

"Darryl!"

"Eva!"

They exclaimed simultaneously in stage whispers that could have been heard in the house next door.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Coming to see you!" she replied automatically, cursing her inbuilt tendency to honesty. Now he'd think she was easy, although what else would he have thought if she'd achieved her original objective?

"Oh!" he said, in obviously delighted surprise.

"Oh!" she parroted a fraction of a second later because his involuntary reaction meant that he obviously didn't think she was easy. Which was rather wonderful!

They were already deep inside each other's personal space and realised there was no more than half an inch difference in their respective heights. This brought their mouths perilously close together. Oddly, the first thing that came to Eva's mind was that she wouldn't have to wear ridiculous heels when she was out with him. She giggled and his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"What's so funny?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to wear high heels when I'm out with you."

"I bet you'd look fuckin' amazing in them though."

His eyes blazed and Eva was lost. She leaned in through the last few inches between them and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"D'you think so?" she breathed.

He was intoxicated. "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her lips parted as she smiled, and he thought he might faint. She put her hands on his shoulders, and he shuddered. Her smile grew wider as she steered him back through his bedroom door. She walked him to the far corner of his room and put her finger to his lips.

"Stay," she whispered before turning and walking back to close the door.

His eyes were drawn to the perfect curve of her arse and his breathing started to become a little hoarse.

She pivoted and stalked towards him as if she were dancing the opening moves of a tango. Daz might not have been a ballroom enthusiast, but he knew the rules to this game. He lifted his chin and stared down at her imperiously. Unbuttoning her blouse, the slim blonde exposed a silky camisole tented by her stiff nipples. She ran her hands up her sides to cup her breasts and his nerve almost cracked but he stood his ground. She sank to her knees and in one smooth motion the head of his cock found itself between her impossibly red lips. Daz thought he might have a heart attack, and he put out a hand to steady himself as Eva worked his pleasure centres.

Later, they paused in their exertions, both breathing hard as she straddled him, lacing her hands behind his neck. He was deep in her silken depths and pleasantly surprised at his staying power. His brow furrowed.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I ... I dunno, it all feels like a dream, don't it?"

She squeezed him with her internal muscles. "Does this feel like a dream?"

He jerked and laughed. She rested her forehead against his, their breath mingling.

"I know what you mean, though."

Her nipples prodded his skin through the thin thatch on his chest. Then came the soft weight of her breasts and he sighed, adrift on the ocean of sensation.

"I don't think I want to wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open, and she held him at arm's length.

"I do! Because I want this to be real, Darryl. I want to go dancing with you, and hold hands, and go driving in that tatty excuse of a car of yours, maybe go for quiet drinks in some cosy pub, d'you hear?"

He laughed; a belly laugh that shook her most pleasantly.

"Sure! Anything else?"

The air between them settled and stilled and became intense.

She looked at him from under her lashes, her eyes brilliant in the dusky light.

"Yeah."

"Lots."

"Everything."

Punctuated with gaps, her words were like arrows to his breast. He put his head on one side.

"Alright."

***

In the room next to Daz's, Vito was peering into the mirror on the wall as he carefully removed his contact lenses. Distracted, he didn't notice as Ria entered the room. She discarded her Arsenal shirt and sports bra as she crept up behind him. As he caught sight of her, he started to turn only for her to press him up against the wall. Vito thought all his birthdays had come at once as her hands snaked round to caress his torso and crotch. As Ria squeezed the hard length of his shaft through his jeans, Vito came completely unglued. He twisted round to find stiff, fat, pink nipples atop the generous mounds of her breasts. Her hands rooted themselves in his hair as he took one in his mouth, sucking and gently biting the flesh. The punishing training sessions with the Sword had begun to firm up her voluptuous figure and her new tone was doing wonders for her self-respect.

Shortly she discovered the truth of the rumours about the size of Vito's cock. He did indeed sport a sizeable member and she allowed him away from the wall and then pushed him gently first to his knees and then to his back. He looked up at her wide eyed as she stepped out of her jeans and peeled off her knickers to reveal a dense thatch of hair at the junction of her thighs. Her breasts swayed enticingly as she knelt astride him, taking his stiffness and guiding it to her entrance. His eyes rolled back in his head as she took him inside her in a series of movements that penetrated her slick wetness a little further each time.

***

In their own room the Unholy Trinity had wasted no time settling into their favoured configuration, Alison astride Sanjay's face, the other astride his groin, his cock already engulfed in Merry's welcoming and very wet cunt. The girls kissed passionately, their hands busy caressing and teasing their partners, whether it be trailing their nails over bared skin or fondling each other's breasts.

Lying together afterwards in a post-coital cuddle, which was almost his favourite part of proceedings, Sanjay came to a decision.

"I think it's about time I told my parents that I'm never going to marry Indira."

The Kumars had grown increasingly vocal on the issue to the point of having printed wedding invitations for immediately after his viva. They weren't in the post yet, but Sanjay suspected that decision hung by a thread.