Mandy came trudging into the dome. She had some kind of curved, space-warping chunk of metal under one rounded arm, and was dragging something organic and green, a ropy ball of squirming seaweed. "Found two more," she said. "Need a shower. My back hurrrrts."

"Rub back Mandy," I blurted out.

She brightened a little. Met my eyes and smiled tiredly. "Rub back Mandy, hey, I'm Mandy and I need a pervert to rub my aching back."

I wordlessly raised a hand.

"Come see me in ten, pervert."

She was waiting for me on a Human-style bed, face down, her back bare. The rest was swathed in a ridiculously huge white towel. "Hurry up before I go to sleep," she said into the pillow.

"When was the last time you had any rest?"

She mumbled something. Then: "How about you?"

I mumbled something. A word to my nonhuman readers: backrubs are both a healing activity and a Human courtship ritual that frequently results in mating. Not the ritual itself, mind you. Humans don't transfer genetic material through their backs or hands.

Her skin was still warm from the shower. Soft, smooth, driving me a little crazy from the touch. She was so chunky, so wonderful. She trusted me enough to let this happen. So wonderful. The hormones flooding my brain sent me into a spell of lustful dizziness. Beautiful Mandy and her fascinatingly wide rear, right there under that towel.

But then: she hurt. Our souls, the connection between them, kicked in. I felt the back pain she was enduring. "Ow," I said.

"Right? Aren't we too young for this?"

Thanks to the connection, I could go right to the knotted muscle without guidance. Here. To the left of the spine under her shoulder blade. Rub. Press with thumbs. Rub. I felt her pain/pleasure, the loosening of the trouble spots. Her muscles relaxing, unclenching.

A complicated feedback loop filled the air. I'll try to explain it without a diagram:

MANDY: felt my delight at being able to ease her pain. Felt my pride at being trusted, at her all-but-naked backrub recipient outfit. Felt the constant, unrelenting sizzle of my admiration for her. My good-natured lust. My worry for her.

OWEN: felt her amusement. Felt her pleasure at being able to tease with her beauty, which was a shocking thing she wasn't used to. Felt her smug enjoyment of the just-a-towel's effect on me. And, I was delighted to find, good-natured lust. Apparently I had wide shoulders or collarbones or hips or hands or whatever.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

I was able to get rid of her pain. Just with my hands, knowing where it was. I'll try to explain this to my Human readers: we started melting. Not physically; I was still my own tall scrawny doofus, she was still luscious Strawberry Mandy.

But having a soul meant connection. I'd felt it with my guys, of course. And I'd felt it with Mandy, many times. But this was a simple thing, a backrub, and it was turning into the two of us getting confused as to which of us was which.

Warrior Mandy, hero of the realm, sword and shield for the Feast of Fools. Brave, strong, jiggly and adorable, tougher than tough. Tall, tenderhearted Owen who keeps blathering on about how much he hates people, but still gives them food and a place to live and dresses up in silly alien outfits to impress a girl.

I'd wanted to kill Taylor. Owen saved him from me. Saved me from becoming that. I'd almost killed Taylor. Held him in my hand. Felt his pain the way I'm feeling hers. Found another way. Was I weak for letting him live?

The two of us simultaneously crashed, spiralling into anxiety, fear, worry for our dear friend Schmendrick. Were we doing what we could? Why did we deserve the pleasure of each other's company when she was so afraid? We didn't. We did NOT.

I found my self standing by the bed, staring into her eyes. She was sitting up, towel wrapped just beneath her arms.

We didn't deserve anything good. This was selfish. Not until she was back. Both of us were thinking/feeling it.

I lay my hand on her cheek. She pressed it with her own hand, holding my gaze. Holding my soul. We stayed that way. Still savoring the connection. MandyOwen, blurring together.

"Will I get pregnant if I go in there?"

Mandy and I broke into tired grins. "Come on in, Cassie."

"Answer the damn question."

Cassie had found three more of the seemingly ubiquitous slice-pushing four-dimensional devices. They were all alien and weird, just like the ones we'd been collecting. I thanked her.

I could taste Cassie's soul as well. She was a shape-changing monster, but she was still herself. Her cheerfulness was all a lie. She was desperately worried. But it was a matter of respect, I think, or perhaps etiquette, that we pretended not to know.

She inspected Mandy and I. We were sitting next to one another on Mandy's bed, holding hands, looking exhausted and probably guilty. "Will it work? And is this phase two or three or what?"

"Prepping for Phase Three," I said.

Mandy smiled. "I thought Phase Three was gloating."

"This is too big for gloating," I said. "I'll just be happy if it works. I want her back. I want … I think I want them to be okay. Humans."

Cassie and Mandy pretended shock, mouths open in O's, eyes wide. Mandy gasped in mock surprise: "Owen isn't as big a jerk as he says!"

"You take that back," I said, but couldn't go any further. Mandy wiggled a little, rubbing against me in that towel. It was like electricity, warm and bouncy and–

I hopped up. Left. "Gotta get back to work. Sorry ladies. Mandy go to bed!"

A bit of lingering connection from them both. Weariness. Sadness. Hope.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.