With additions by Matrix Dragon
---
Morning time arrived with the artificial sun high above the Horizon.
Mackie tried to ignore it.
His body insisted otherwise.
The bathroom offered no relief, only an unwelcome reminder. He dithered on whether or not to have a shower, before finally succumbing to the inevitable. Best not to slob around. Take it from someone who knew better.
Hot water found it's own natural course, as much as he didn't want to, slithering along parts of his body he tried to ignore.
His sister's naked body confronted him in the mirror again as he stepped out.
After few attempts at dressing himself, he settled on the combination he found most comfortable, and left it at that. They didn't match, but they kept everything in it's right place and didn't try to climb into any nooks and crannies. A light bathrobe kept the cold air off.
He took his usual place at his computer, looking for a quick escape from the reality of his situation. Bubblegum Pink had suddenly become a lot less amusing.
Even the simple act of sitting at his computer and browsing the internet was proving to be an exercise in frustration. He'd browse game sites and twitter, delicate fingers constantly mistyping, starting to relax into his chair. Then he'd make a mistake that reminded him of his situation and snap back to reality. He'd click on one of his bookmarks without thinking, presenting him with images he'd normally welcome and drawing unexpected reactions from his body. Leaning back would shift his weight, breasts rubbing against his blouse. The programmed instincts that would make him cross his shapely legs, the tight pants sliding over sensitive skin...
The urge to scream returned with a vengeance.
Just before Mackie could give into that temptation, a feminine giggle cut through his anger. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so determined to resist the urge for a little self-exploration.” Mackie jumped slightly in his chair, emitting a girlish squeak of surprise, then turned towards the door. Despite the fact he was sure it had been closed and locked, it was now open wide, a small and very curvy Orion woman leaning against the frame and grinning playfully at him.
“You do realize,” Chris Wood said, after waiting for Mackie to get over the burst of libido he always suffered from when he saw her, “that I am passing up a magnificent opportunity for revenge here.” Blinking, Mackie managed to stop staring at her body and looked up at her face, confusion on his own. "Camera drones. On my ship. In my shower," she reminded him, smirking slightly as Mackie winced. That hadn't been one of his brightest ideas. "Luckily for you, I can be merciful."
Mackie Jaguar was hardly a fool. Eyes darting down to the womans very generous chest again, which was straining the t-shirt she was wearing to its limits, he realized at least part of what her revenge would have been. His libido and this body were already an unpleasant combination. He didn't want to imagine what the Orion could do to him if she actually put some effort into it. "I... I certainly appreciate that," he replied, managing to pull his gaze back up to her face. "So if you're not here for that...?"
Grinning, Chris stepped out into the hallway, returning a moment later with a large duffel bag. "Clothes," she explained, tossing the bag onto the teens lap. "Everything's pretty simple. Pants, shirts, underwear that wasn't purchased for the sole purpose of cooking Ford's brain," she said dryly. Mackie's cheeks reddened as he remembered the bra and panties he currently had on. “None of it’s ‘waved, except for the shoes,” she added. “They’ll compensate for your need for heels. The rest is all normal, so it might not feel as comfortable as that Senshi gear, but I get the feeling you’d prefer that.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “Disturbingly comfortable clothes messed with my head early on too.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding in agreement. Unzipping the duffel bag, he considered the collection of clothes for a moment. “I thought A.C. was taking care of this.”
“She called me in,” Chris replied. “I was on Earth anyway. And she’s no fool. She knows that her definition of ‘casual clothing’ is a little… off by everyone else's standards.” She giggled as Mackie considered that. “If you’d ever gone shopping with her, you’d know what I mean.” The teenager froze, his mind clearly imagining A.C. Peters in such a situation. Giving him a moment to imagine the woman in all sorts of revealing outfits and non-existent underwear, Chris rolled her eyes. “Yo, Mackie!” she said, snapping her fingers and making him jump. “Daydream later. For now, you need to get changed.”
“... I do?”
Nodding, she brushed a loose strand of long green hair back over her ear. “Void Eagles engines are due for a service, remember?”
Frowning, Mackie checked his mental calendar. “That’s not until next month,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but I’m here now, it needs to be done, and really, can you think of a better distraction than pulling some engines apart?”
Laughing, and trying to ignore the way it sounded, even to him, Mackie stood up and dropped the duffel bag on his bed. “Okay, I’m sold. Just give me a minute to get changed…” he paused, glancing over at Chris, and gave her a smile that, unknown to him, his body translated to sultry and inviting. “Unless you’d like to help me undress?”
Giggling, the small woman walked back into the hall. “Sorry kid, you’ve got nothing there I’m interested in,” she said, closing the door behind her. Mackie pouted, then started getting out of the nightgown
***
Work lifted his mood.
It took his mind off things, for the most part. Even though his arms caught on his chest and he noticed he could reach machinery that would've needed a stepladder before, just the act of getting focused on something helped.
It ended far too quickly, despite his best efforts to extend the work with some extra calibration. The engines roared to life, finding their voice in a tight hangar. A few tight collimator adustments eked another quantum of efficiency out of the thruster..
“I'm just glad I'm not paying you hourly.”
A sour little voice dragged him out of it, putting him back into a pair of heeled boots.
“Just a little more. I think I can get ninety.”
A sympathethic look passed across her face, before she took a breath.“I've an appointment to make on Ganymede,”
His shoulders fell. He closed the panel. “Alright. She's good to fly”
Mackie jumped down off the hull, landing with more grace that he'd even thought possible. Chris blinked, caught by surprise.
“Ah, What do I owe you?”
“Call it a fair trade for the clothes,” Makie forced himself to smile, tugging on a t-shirt that still clung a little tighter than he would've liked.
“Well, those are a slightly different size and shape to natural ones.” She cupped her own to demonstrate for a second.
“Slightly.” Mackie's whole body pulled itself taught. The word 'sexaroid' fluttered through his mind again. An idealised creation, rather than anything at all attainable in nature.
“I've a crew spot available. Could use a good man for a few short trips, to keep everything running.”
Mackie winced. Definitely not. “I told someone I'd help my sister investigate.”
“Oh...”
“Fastest way back to normal,” he forced a smile.
They walked together, Mackie's heels clicking on the concrete. He'd hang around until she left, just to make sure nothing had been overlooked. He hoped he'd overlooked something, just enough to get back to work again.
All looked annoyingly well, up until Chris spoke.
“What's that?”
His hopes collapsed when she pointed right at the half finished remains of a Mig fighter, still missing most of it's outer skin.
“That's the Rebecca Brown,” he said, feeling that spark of pride fill his chest. “We built three for SHIELD. They took Taylor Hebert and Theresa Richter, but pulled the money before we finished building Becky.”
Chris giggled “That was cruel.”
“Yeah.,” Mackie frowned, giving the frame a forelorn look. “And I did something really special with the engines too.”
“No. Pulling names from that serial for a JLI jet?”
“Their own fault.” he shrugged. His hands twitched as he snapped back on the urger to stop his chest from bouncing. Chris struggled to hide her giggle. Mackie forced himself to keep speaking. “Had someone along to inspect the first one and they just had to comment that it didn't look like a hero's jet.” He looked at Chris, who hadn't stopped looking at him. “She'll have to be cut up in a few weeks if nobody buys her.”
“Shame,” she sighed. She stopped at the portside hatch, putting one foot on the deck. “Last chance Mackie.”
“Nah,” He breathed. “I'm good.”
Mackie watched the Void Eagle leave from a cabin on the old crane gantry, not sure whether he'd dodged a bullet or missed an opportunity.
It could be both.
The comm-link in his pocket buzzed. He snatched it out, fumbling with it before it made things too ucomfortable. It clipped from his fingers. He caught it before it hit the ground.
Jet had returned.
-----
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
---
Morning time arrived with the artificial sun high above the Horizon.
Mackie tried to ignore it.
His body insisted otherwise.
The bathroom offered no relief, only an unwelcome reminder. He dithered on whether or not to have a shower, before finally succumbing to the inevitable. Best not to slob around. Take it from someone who knew better.
Hot water found it's own natural course, as much as he didn't want to, slithering along parts of his body he tried to ignore.
His sister's naked body confronted him in the mirror again as he stepped out.
After few attempts at dressing himself, he settled on the combination he found most comfortable, and left it at that. They didn't match, but they kept everything in it's right place and didn't try to climb into any nooks and crannies. A light bathrobe kept the cold air off.
He took his usual place at his computer, looking for a quick escape from the reality of his situation. Bubblegum Pink had suddenly become a lot less amusing.
Even the simple act of sitting at his computer and browsing the internet was proving to be an exercise in frustration. He'd browse game sites and twitter, delicate fingers constantly mistyping, starting to relax into his chair. Then he'd make a mistake that reminded him of his situation and snap back to reality. He'd click on one of his bookmarks without thinking, presenting him with images he'd normally welcome and drawing unexpected reactions from his body. Leaning back would shift his weight, breasts rubbing against his blouse. The programmed instincts that would make him cross his shapely legs, the tight pants sliding over sensitive skin...
The urge to scream returned with a vengeance.
Just before Mackie could give into that temptation, a feminine giggle cut through his anger. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so determined to resist the urge for a little self-exploration.” Mackie jumped slightly in his chair, emitting a girlish squeak of surprise, then turned towards the door. Despite the fact he was sure it had been closed and locked, it was now open wide, a small and very curvy Orion woman leaning against the frame and grinning playfully at him.
“You do realize,” Chris Wood said, after waiting for Mackie to get over the burst of libido he always suffered from when he saw her, “that I am passing up a magnificent opportunity for revenge here.” Blinking, Mackie managed to stop staring at her body and looked up at her face, confusion on his own. "Camera drones. On my ship. In my shower," she reminded him, smirking slightly as Mackie winced. That hadn't been one of his brightest ideas. "Luckily for you, I can be merciful."
Mackie Jaguar was hardly a fool. Eyes darting down to the womans very generous chest again, which was straining the t-shirt she was wearing to its limits, he realized at least part of what her revenge would have been. His libido and this body were already an unpleasant combination. He didn't want to imagine what the Orion could do to him if she actually put some effort into it. "I... I certainly appreciate that," he replied, managing to pull his gaze back up to her face. "So if you're not here for that...?"
Grinning, Chris stepped out into the hallway, returning a moment later with a large duffel bag. "Clothes," she explained, tossing the bag onto the teens lap. "Everything's pretty simple. Pants, shirts, underwear that wasn't purchased for the sole purpose of cooking Ford's brain," she said dryly. Mackie's cheeks reddened as he remembered the bra and panties he currently had on. “None of it’s ‘waved, except for the shoes,” she added. “They’ll compensate for your need for heels. The rest is all normal, so it might not feel as comfortable as that Senshi gear, but I get the feeling you’d prefer that.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “Disturbingly comfortable clothes messed with my head early on too.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding in agreement. Unzipping the duffel bag, he considered the collection of clothes for a moment. “I thought A.C. was taking care of this.”
“She called me in,” Chris replied. “I was on Earth anyway. And she’s no fool. She knows that her definition of ‘casual clothing’ is a little… off by everyone else's standards.” She giggled as Mackie considered that. “If you’d ever gone shopping with her, you’d know what I mean.” The teenager froze, his mind clearly imagining A.C. Peters in such a situation. Giving him a moment to imagine the woman in all sorts of revealing outfits and non-existent underwear, Chris rolled her eyes. “Yo, Mackie!” she said, snapping her fingers and making him jump. “Daydream later. For now, you need to get changed.”
“... I do?”
Nodding, she brushed a loose strand of long green hair back over her ear. “Void Eagles engines are due for a service, remember?”
Frowning, Mackie checked his mental calendar. “That’s not until next month,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but I’m here now, it needs to be done, and really, can you think of a better distraction than pulling some engines apart?”
Laughing, and trying to ignore the way it sounded, even to him, Mackie stood up and dropped the duffel bag on his bed. “Okay, I’m sold. Just give me a minute to get changed…” he paused, glancing over at Chris, and gave her a smile that, unknown to him, his body translated to sultry and inviting. “Unless you’d like to help me undress?”
Giggling, the small woman walked back into the hall. “Sorry kid, you’ve got nothing there I’m interested in,” she said, closing the door behind her. Mackie pouted, then started getting out of the nightgown
***
Work lifted his mood.
It took his mind off things, for the most part. Even though his arms caught on his chest and he noticed he could reach machinery that would've needed a stepladder before, just the act of getting focused on something helped.
It ended far too quickly, despite his best efforts to extend the work with some extra calibration. The engines roared to life, finding their voice in a tight hangar. A few tight collimator adustments eked another quantum of efficiency out of the thruster..
“I'm just glad I'm not paying you hourly.”
A sour little voice dragged him out of it, putting him back into a pair of heeled boots.
“Just a little more. I think I can get ninety.”
A sympathethic look passed across her face, before she took a breath.“I've an appointment to make on Ganymede,”
His shoulders fell. He closed the panel. “Alright. She's good to fly”
Mackie jumped down off the hull, landing with more grace that he'd even thought possible. Chris blinked, caught by surprise.
“Ah, What do I owe you?”
“Call it a fair trade for the clothes,” Makie forced himself to smile, tugging on a t-shirt that still clung a little tighter than he would've liked.
“Well, those are a slightly different size and shape to natural ones.” She cupped her own to demonstrate for a second.
“Slightly.” Mackie's whole body pulled itself taught. The word 'sexaroid' fluttered through his mind again. An idealised creation, rather than anything at all attainable in nature.
“I've a crew spot available. Could use a good man for a few short trips, to keep everything running.”
Mackie winced. Definitely not. “I told someone I'd help my sister investigate.”
“Oh...”
“Fastest way back to normal,” he forced a smile.
They walked together, Mackie's heels clicking on the concrete. He'd hang around until she left, just to make sure nothing had been overlooked. He hoped he'd overlooked something, just enough to get back to work again.
All looked annoyingly well, up until Chris spoke.
“What's that?”
His hopes collapsed when she pointed right at the half finished remains of a Mig fighter, still missing most of it's outer skin.
“That's the Rebecca Brown,” he said, feeling that spark of pride fill his chest. “We built three for SHIELD. They took Taylor Hebert and Theresa Richter, but pulled the money before we finished building Becky.”
Chris giggled “That was cruel.”
“Yeah.,” Mackie frowned, giving the frame a forelorn look. “And I did something really special with the engines too.”
“No. Pulling names from that serial for a JLI jet?”
“Their own fault.” he shrugged. His hands twitched as he snapped back on the urger to stop his chest from bouncing. Chris struggled to hide her giggle. Mackie forced himself to keep speaking. “Had someone along to inspect the first one and they just had to comment that it didn't look like a hero's jet.” He looked at Chris, who hadn't stopped looking at him. “She'll have to be cut up in a few weeks if nobody buys her.”
“Shame,” she sighed. She stopped at the portside hatch, putting one foot on the deck. “Last chance Mackie.”
“Nah,” He breathed. “I'm good.”
Mackie watched the Void Eagle leave from a cabin on the old crane gantry, not sure whether he'd dodged a bullet or missed an opportunity.
It could be both.
The comm-link in his pocket buzzed. He snatched it out, fumbling with it before it made things too ucomfortable. It clipped from his fingers. He caught it before it hit the ground.
Jet had returned.
-----
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?