"Pheromone Pharmacopia"

by Brandy Dewinter

(c 2001, All rights reserved)

Chapter 12 - "Misery"

     "Rise and shine, ladies.  It's a brand new day," said Carol in a 
disgustingly chipper voice.

     "I may rise, but I refuse to shine," Jacqui grumped a she struggled 
from the tangled bedroll.  

     "Oh, God, Jacqui, that is soo old.  Can't you do any better than 
that?" Jaymi asked with a snicker.

     "Not after a night in this stinkin' swamp," the other brunette 
snapped.  

     Sandy laughed and said, "My, my, it looks like little Miss Sunshine 
hasn't had her sweetness pill this morning."  

     Jacqui was not impressed.  "How in hell can you all be so damn 
cheerful?  There is no way that anyone can be that happy after a day in 
the muck followed by a night sleeping on roots and rocks.  It's not 
human."  

     Marilyn struggled from her own bedroll, trying to find a smile to 
join in but not entirely successful herself.  "Well, Jacqui, it's like 
this.  When it gets to this point, you can either laugh or cry, and I 
guess we choose laugh."  

     Before Jacqui could reply, Vanna stuck a cup of coffee under her 
nose.  After that, Jacqui had better things to do than talk.  MUCH better.  

     While the team went about starting the day, Sandy and Marilyn got 
together over the map display.  "I make it about . . . six more klicks," 
Sandy said.  

     "About that," Marilyn agreed.  "But I think we need to stay close to 
the men; ahead of them a little, but close enough we can check on them 
periodically.  We shouldn't have any trouble moving faster if they only 
have one good boot between them.  If they stumble on an angry snake 
though, we may need to call for help for real."  

     "Hmmm," mused Sandy.  "I expect they'll stay on this ridge."

     "Right," Marilyn confirmed, "but we can't let them actually pick up 
our trail, so we'll need to stay just off of it."  

     "I was afraid you were going to say that," Sandy sighed, but she 
nodded.  

     Marilyn urged the team to move on before they had eaten, letting the 
small indulgence of hot coffee be their wake-up elixir.  They munched on 
rations as they walked, the joy of cold macaroni and cheese just another 
of the pleasures in their nature hike.  Periodically, Jaymi and Sandy would 
drift back into the jungle, reporting back with a nod that the men were 
doing okay.  

     Once it was clear that the sabotaged men were not in any real risk, 
Marilyn had them pick up the pace.  Just before they reached the recovery 
clearing, their blonde leader called a halt.

     "Okay, girls, wash the camo off your faces.  We don't want them to 
know we had this level of equipment."  She smiled and said, "Stuff the web 
gear inside the packs and assume a suitably tired demeanor."

     "Assume, hell," Carol sighed. 

     "First order you've given me all day that I KNEW I could obey," Vanna 
said, nodding.    

     "Um, girls, if it's any incentive," Jacqui offered, "I understand 
that the pickup station has showers."

     "Why didn't you SAY so?!" Carol demanded, then let her long legs take 
her away before the shorter girl could answer.  

     When the men stumbled into the ranger station a few hours later, they 
found Carol happily drying her hair.  She was quite careful not to let the 
smirk she wore point in their direction, but that was about as far as she 
could control it.  The rest of the team was studiously nonchalant, but it 
would be hard to tell they had just spent two hard days in a swamp.  

     "How . . ?  What are you doing here already?" Jennings asked in 
amazement.

     "Just waiting for you," Marilyn replied.  "Oh, and we've been 
discussing just where you're going to take us for dinner."  

     "This wasn't a valid test," Jennings snapped.  "A raccoon or 
something got into our camp and screwed up a lot of our stuff."  

     "And that affects the test . . how?" Marilyn asked, an expression on 
her face so perfectly vapid that it seemed like an honest question.

     "It . . we . . it just isn't fair," Anderson said petulantly.  

     Jacqui walked over to him, hips swaying with the gait enforced by her 
replaced spike heels.  "Like it was so fair that you were put on ground 
you'd already been through.  I remember where you said your first survival 
exercise was held.  You bragged enough about how much tougher your swamp 
trip was than my mountain test."  

     At this statement, Anderson's eyes took on a decidedly guilty 
expression, mirrored by one shown by Jennings.  

     With a bit more respect in his voice, Jennings asked again, "Really, 
how'd you get here so fast?"   

     "We just found a good ol' boy with a boat and hitched a ride," Sandy 
claimed.  

     "Yeah, right," Anderson said.  "Like there are guys just hovering 
around, waiting to do you a favor like that."  

     "It so happens," Carol said in a husky, sultry voice, "attracting men 
IS a survival skill . . . for some people."  

     Sandy didn't say anything, but she glanced through her lashes at 
Jennings with a look of entreaty that would have charmed the birds down 
from the sky.  She managed to hold it for almost ten seconds before 
dissolving in laughter.  Her innocent happiness was so infectious that 
even the men joined in.  

     "We voted for Brennan's, in New Orleans," Marilyn announced, 
returning to her previous topic when the chuckling had died down.

     Jennings had regained a bit of his sense of authority along with his 
humor, so he shook his head.  "No.  We need to get back to Houston.  But 
it does appear that you won, so it looks like we'll be taking you out . . 
 . say, Friday evening?"

     "Good enough," Marilyn accepted for the team.  She turned to Jacqui 
and asked, "What's good in Houston?"  

     "Palmas Lounge, of course," she replied immediately.  

     Jennings winced, but nodded ruefully.  "Damn, with, um, three of you 
for each of us, that's going to be . . . well, a lot.  But, if that's what 
you want, okay.  There is a price on your side too, though."

     At Marilyn's arched eyebrow, he continued.  "You ladies need to dress 
up enough to make that worth our money.  I expect something classy."  

     "My good man," Vanna replied in tones that proved her statement, "I 
*invented* classy."  

     "I'll, um, believe you," Jennings said in wonder.  Then he recovered 
and said, "Now if one of you ladies would hit your panic button, the 
chopper will come pick us up."  

     "Why not use your own?" Jaymi asked innocently.  

     "Oh, no particular reason, I guess," Jennings said, but the guilty 
look in his eyes betrayed a very specific intent indeed.  He realized he'd 
been caught and grinned sheepishly as he sent his own signal.    

     One shower wasn't really enough to compensate for their time in the 
swamp, but Jennings scheduled a couple of relatively easy days after that 
exercise - perhaps because he didn't expect them to finish so soon.  By 
the time Friday arrived, they were not only fully recovered, but anxious 
to go.  Their last 'official' duty was done soon after lunch, and they 
made arrangements to meet in a common lounge a few hours later.  

     On her way to the lounge after getting ready, Carol stopped by 
Jacqui's quarters.  "Ready to go, hon?" she called as she knocked.

     "Sure," Jacqui's voice answered.  The door opened to reveal Jacqui in 
the most formal, most feminine outfit they had ever seen her wear.  

     Unfortunately, that was because the only other outfits she had ever 
worn were duty clothes.  

     "Oh.  Dear," Carol whispered.  

     "What?" Jacqui said.  

     Carol didn't even answer.  She just stepped back out of the room and 
yelled down the hall, "Houston, we have a problem!  Marilyn, Sandy front 
and center!"  

     In moments the team had assembled.  The girls were dressed in 
accordance with their well-studied personas, from the long-legged, sensual 
Carol to the seemingly innocent Sandy.  Each presented a stunning, 
eye-catching demonstration of the elemental aspects of femininity, 
something for every desire.  Only Marilyn looked unremarkable, at least 
relatively unremarkable within that spectrum - and that only lasted until 
she moved.  It seemed her gown had a slight deficiency in . . . support in 
a very critical area.  Well, two areas.  Each step started a complex set 
of motions that didn't look like they'd damp out until the second Tuesday 
of the following week.  

     And then there was Jacqui - dressed in a yellow-brown pantsuit at 
least two sizes too large for her and a man-tailored, button-down shirt 
complete with an official NASA tie.  

     "Oh, dear," Marilyn said, unknowingly repeating Carol's comment.

     "What?" Jacqui repeated.  Then, because she really knew what the 
problem was, she made a defense.  "Look, if you think I'm going to get all 
frilled up like you girls, well, that's just not me."

     Marilyn shook her head.  "Jacqui, you're part of the team now, and 
we're not going to have one of us looking like a post-modernist bag lady."   

     "Bag lady?  I'll have you know I paid two-fifty for this pantsuit.  
It's from one of the most respected shops in Houston."  

     "Well, I think you got ripped off," Carol said.  "Two dollars and 
fifty cents is WAY too much for that . . thing."  

     Jacqui's sputtering rage was interrupted by Marilyn, fully back in 
team leader mode.  "Okay, team, this is a crisis moment, but I know we can 
handle it.  Sandy, you're pretty close to her coloring, so you get makeup.
It's a crime to have such lovely eyes lookk like . . . that.  Jaymi, 
you're closest to her size.  See what you can do for a dress.  I want 
slinky, but innocent.  Umm, Vanna, I think you better look into shoes, and 
of course you're the best in lingerie.  Carol, I think that leaves you for 
hair and me for nails.  Get moving girls, this is an emergency!"  

     Jacqui's protestations fell on deaf ears, or more accurately, they 
failed to reach the ears of rapidly disappearing teammates.  After that, 
things got *really* frustrating.  

     "We're gonna be late," she said, calling down the hallway.  

     "Tough," Jaymi said, the first to reappear.  "They lost the bet.  
Besides, you're gonna make it worth their while."  

     "Strip, we're starting from scratch here," Vanna commanded as she 
walked through the door, her arms full of things that Jacqui knew couldn't 
all be worn at the same time.  At least, she thought she knew that.  

     Jaymi was in her dresser, making little clucking sounds as she rooted 
around in the neatly organized disappointments.  "Ah, here it is," she 
announced, pulling out a rolled corset.  "I knew you had a spare, we all 
got them."  

     "I'm not wearing that," Jacqui said adamantly.  Not that anyone 
cared.

     "Of course you are," Marilyn said as she re-entered.  "It'll make you 
look fabulous.  Besides, after wearing your flightsuit for the last few 
months, it's not like they don't know your shape."  

"After wearing your flightsuit for the last few months," Marilyn told Jacqui,
"it's not like they don't know your shape."

     The girls didn't quite *force* her from her clothes, but somehow her 
fastenings were disappearing faster than her own fingers could have 
released them.  The boned satin of her corset was hooked around her in 
little more time, then Carol started pulling on the laces.  

     "Suck it in, girl, the dress Jaymi has for you won't accept half 
measures."  

     "Dress?" Jacqui repeated weakly - not entirely from the lack of air.  

     "Tonight, you're into taffeta and lace, girl," Jaymi said, "but first 
. . "

     "First, you get stockings," Vanna said.  "Full-fashioned stockings, 
and if you need any help keeping your seams straight, just ask any boy 
with a pulse in four counties, because they'll all be watching."  

     "Seams?" Jacqui repeated, hating herself for being so far behind the 
power curve even as she realized this was a pretty high-powered team she 
was trying to keep up with.

     "I don't suppose there's time to wax her legs?" Carol asked 
plaintively.  Marilyn shook her head, which stilled a struggle from 
Jacqui that was clearly headed for a real explosion. 

     Vanna continued with her part of the ensemble.  "Right, and now this 
little slip - not much more than a cami, I'll admit, but just enough to 
keep the dress from hanging on that lovely little hip swell the corset 
helps you with.  The panties - what there is of them - go on *over* the 
garters, of course."

     "I am NOT going to wear a goddamn thong!" Jacqui yelled as she looked
at what Vanna was offering.

     "Suit yourself, dear," Vanna said, unperturbed.  "I was just thinking
of your own modesty.  Obviously, you can't wear regular panties with that 
dress, so if you'd rather go without . . ."

     "Without?!" Jacqui squawked.

     Vanna dangled the wispy bit of red lace from her fingers, an arched
eyebrow permitting Jacqui to reconsider her decision.  The brunette 
snatched the tiny garment and struggled into it, glaring at her supposed
benefactor.  When she stood up straight again, Vanna took one look at the 
curves lifted by Jacqui's corset and tossed away the bra she had brought.

     "But . . I'm not . . . covered," Jacqui said.  "I mean, this corset
leaves my . . . I'm not covered."

     "Nope," Vanna agreed smugly, then a glitter of humor in her eyes 
undermined the look of pensive concentration she tried to display.  "I 
may be wrong about one thing."

     "What?" Jacqui asked, suddenly worried. 

     "The guys may not be watching your stocking seams after all," Vanna 
delivered the punch line.  Jacqui's blush was buried under the hoots of 
her teammates.  

     "And now the dress," Jaymi announced grandly.  

     "Not yet," she was interrupted by Carol and Sandy simultaneously.  
"Let us get her hair and makeup done first so we don't mess up all that 
lace."  

     "Lace?" whispered Jacqui, though part of her remembered that she had 
already been warned about that.  

     "Sit here," Sandy ordered.  

     "Right," Carol reinforced the order.  "I've been positively ITCHING
to get my hands on her . . ah, that is, on her hair since the first time 
she pulled off her flight helmet."  

     "What's wrong with my hair?" Jacqui snapped.

     "Besides being a crime against nature, you mean?  Don't worry though,
it's nothing I can't fix.  I think . . . something like a lion's mane, to 
suit your personality."  

     "Look, guys, it's not that I don't appreciate this and all," Jacqui 
lied, trying to get back some control.  "But, I mean, this is all just a 
waste.  I'm never going to look like I fit in with girls as beautiful as 
you.  You all just started out with way too much head start on an ordinary 
woman."

     She didn't understand the outbreak of laughter her comment created, 
not that it mattered if she understood or not.  In seconds, Jacqui found 
herself a virtual prisoner in her own room. Her head was frozen into 
immobility by Carol's attack on the shoulder-length hair that was her one 
compromise with an otherwise masculine look.  

    Her next . . . comment was even more plaintive.  "OW!!  What the hell 
are you doing now?"

     Sandy smiled and said, "Oh, be quiet, wimp.  I'm just cleaning up 
your eyebrows a little.  Girls are supposed to have two, you know, and
preferably not ones that look like fuzzy black caterpillars."

     The tugs on the petite pilot's tresses and plucks at her brows were 
countered by pulls and twists on her fingers as Marilyn worked to fit 
nail extensions.  Even her feet where restrained as shapes that had become 
all too familiar to her forced them into dramatic arches.  The plucking 
eventually ended, but that was only the sign for Sandy to start in on 
potions and powders, half of which Jacqui couldn't even identify, let 
alone assign a purpose to. 

     "Girl, with eyes like yours, it's a sin and a shame not to let them 
shine," Sandy said with gentle reproof.  Any further comment was 
interrupted by victory in at least one battle. 

     "Hairspray," Carol warned tersely before attacking her creation with 
a large, economy size bottle.  Sandy tried to cover her own eyes and those
of Jacqui without interrupting her own work, not entirely succeeding in 
either endeavor.  

     Whatever she might have had in mind was delayed by an explosion - 
an accidental one as Jacqui sneezed.  "Uh, uh, CHOOO!!"
 
     The reflex motion caused her head to move abruptly forward, along 
with her shoulders - which carried along her waist within the stiff 
corset.  For a moment, there was silence as the team tried to absorb 
what had happened.  She looked around sheepishly, but before she could
say anything, the team swung back into motion.

     "Oh, damn," Sandy sighed.  "Now I have to redo your lip liner."  
She pushed the helpless brunette back against the chair and started
scrubbing at the corner of a distorted mouth.  As soon as Jacqui was 
stable, Carol started in again, but only for a moment.

     With a flourish like a rodeo cowboy finishing the leg tie on a roped 
heifer, Carol lifted her hands, stood back and said, "Ta daa!"  

     "Oh, that's nice," Vanna said, "and I have just the thing for it."

     Jacqui's attempt to see her own hair, let alone the 'thing' that 
Vanna had for it died before she even started, a frown from the gentle 
Sandy permitting no motion at all.

     "And now the dress?" Jaymi repeated, this time asking.

     "And now the dress," Marilyn said, then sent a sharp warning to 
Jacqui.  "But don't touch anything with your fingers until that polish 
dries."

     "Polish," Jacqui repeated resignedly, no longer surprised.  

     Sandy stood back as she finished her own task, then Jacqui's right 
arm was carefully guided through a wisp of soft dark-red fabric that 
flowed across her corset-enhanced figure like a lover's caress.  Fingers 
busied themselves with hidden fastenings that made Carol's earlier warning 
about the snugness of the dress no more than simple fact - though the 
dress itself was decidedly not simple.  An asymmetric line started from 
the single shoulder strap and continued to a shaped hem that left one leg 
exposed almost as high as Carol's dress.  Lace panels wandered with 
seeming randomness like a leafy vine, swinging near enough to promise but 
not quite deliver on secrets that Jacqui couldn't imagine she would ever 
come so close to revealing.    

     "Now THAT is worth waiting for," Marilyn said, finally allowing 
Jacqui to see herself in the mirror.  

     "Oh, dear," Jacqui said, heedless of the snicker from Carol.  The 
transformed pilot reached out tentatively toward the mirror, seeking 
assurance that it was truly a reflection and not someone else that stood 
before her.  A casually wild burst of captive midnight framed her darkly 
mysterious eyes, a single contrasting pearl comb making her raven tresses 
deep and rich.  Full lips that had never shown such an artful pout 
contrasted with cheeks so warm that the glow must have been natural - 
except it had never been there before.  

     "I think the plum lips and nails are just right, don't you?"  Sandy 
asked.

     "Hmmm?" Jacqui replied, obviously not to the stage of assessing 
details yet.  

     "Stand clear!" Carol suddenly warned.  She approached with a double 
strand of pearls, earrings, and a perfume bottle.

     "Not too much of this mantrap juice, now," she warned as she squirted 
a light mist in a few strategic places.  

     Vanna seconded the caution, "Right, since it's MY perfume."  But it 
was clear the elegant blonde was happy to share.  

     "I think she likes it," Sandy said with her own snicker at the still
frozen Jacqui.  

     "Wait'll Oz sees you," Jaymi added.   

     "Oz?" Jacqui said, turning in confusion.  

     "Like none of us noticed," Sandy sniffed, then giggled at Jacqui's 
uncomprehending look.  

     "Speaking of our dates for the evening," Marilyn said.  "We've 
probably kept them waiting long enough."  

     "Simmering nicely, I'll bet," Carol agreed, handing Jacqui a useless 
little bag that had the sole virtue of matching her dress and shoes.  If 
it had more than cab fare home, it was because the bills were large 
denominations, but it's purpose was to call attention to Jacqui's elegant 
nails anyway.  

     "Places, girls," Marilyn commanded, another order that made no sense 
to Jacqui until she found herself surrounded.  

     "Remember," Sandy whispered in her ear, "you only get one chance to 
make a first impression.  Or in your case, to make one that will blow away 
anything they've ever seen before."  

     The troop marched in good order down to the common room where 
Anderson and Jennings were sprawled in easy chairs, watching some old war 
movie.  They might not have been able to pick out the tap of multiple 
heels from the rattle of gunfire, but the rustle of swirling fabrics was 
signal enough.  Anderson stood quickly, Jennings rising at that cue, and 
they turned to face the phalanx of beautifully clad women.  

     Jennings' eyes went immediately to Marilyn, who put a simpering blush 
on her face with polished reflex.  Not that he noticed.  Inadequate 
support from the dress required his engineering attention to focus 
elsewhere, don't you know.  Anderson's eyes were clearly looking for 
Jaymi, searching for dark hair and finding one head too many for what he 
expected to see.  

     As if on cue, though it was unsignaled and 'merely' the common 
impulse of a tight-knit team, the girls separated to form an aisle to 
Jacqui.  

     "Who is . . ? Holy shit!  Beaver?" Oz stammered in a choked voice.  

     Jaymi slapped a high-five at her teammates, then Sandy said with 
ironic formality, "This is our pilot.  I think you know *Jacqui* Cleaver?" 

     "I, uh, sure," Oz said.  "I . . wow!  I mean, damn girl, you look 
. . . great!"

     "Lordy, Beav . . .uh, Jacqui, you DO clean up nice," Jennings said.  

     Jacqui ducked her head in embarrassed confusion, but she couldn't 
entirely hide a smile of pleasure, and of pride.  

     "Sorry we're late," Marilyn said as she found herself holding 
Jennings' arm.  

     "Not a problem," he said gallantly.  "It was definitely worth it."  

     "Nice of you to say so," she replied with a giggle.  The frown on 
Jennings' face was too complex to classify.  Was this the leader of the 
team who had beat him so soundly in the survival exercise, or the girl who 
considered lipstick color a major life decision?  It was so easy to assume 
the second that he was beginning to suspect it was only another sign that 
the first was closer to the truth.

    Anderson found himself with an embarrassment of riches, unable to 
decide which girl he should offer to escort.  A second's hesitation is all
it took for the decision to be made for him.  All of the girls but Jacqui 
were suddenly halfway out the door, leaving him standing there alone with 
his newly glamorous colleague.  

     "C'mon, you two, the night's not gettin' any younger," Carol called.

     "Uh, we better be, you know, going," Anderson said.  Then he 
recovered enough to offer Jacqui his arm.  

     She took it, but tentatively, a shy hesitation as much at odds with 
her normal brashness as her new beauty.  She tried to cover it up with a
little humor, "Geez, Oz, it's not like you've never seen me before."

     "Yes," he said.  "It is."