"Live Long and Prosper"
by Brandy Dewinter
(c 2000, All rights reserved)
Chapter 16 - "Still Ticklish After All These Years"
The wedding took place in a sunlit little glade behind Tirce's
cottage. The bride claimed to be a virgin, but she wore a scandalously
brief red skirt with white flowers, and a courageous little red halter
top that was clearly serving above and beyond the call of duty. The groom
wore shorts and a polo shirt. It's probably a good thing there weren't
any pictures. Attendees were the bride, groom, and the supervising
magistrate.
Not that all that happened immediately, of course. We had a
tantalizingly long engagement of, oh, at least an hour. Some portion
of that time - who cares how long? - was spent melting into a puddle of
fluid pleasure in Ethan's arms as he kissed me. Even Tirce was fanning
her face when he finally let me re-integrate at least to the quivering
Jello stage. Not that I was complaining. Lordy but it seemed like my
husband-to-be had decided it would be proper for him to act a little more
. . . masterful, at least in matters of love, for which there were
definitely no complaints from me. Of course, to complain I'd have had to
catch up on about a week's worth of missing breath. Maybe by that time my
brain would reboot, too.
Whatever passed for my brain had gotten locked in a tight little
loop, unable to consider anything but Tirce's promise that my body really
was complete, and that I really would be - already was - able to
accommodate Ethan. As intriguing as the idea of bearing a child was, that
topic had been pretty effectively banished somewhere during that kiss.
Ethan claimed me with that kiss. It wasn't the same as the others we had
shared, where we were, um, exploring a little. This was different.
Wonderfully, gloriously, spectacularly different, and my hot little
buttons were clamoring for attention. I guess I believed Tirce, because
I was so anxious to get somewhere private with Ethan that my previous fear
might never have existed. Or maybe it was just that kiss.
"Ahem!" Tirce said, forcefully. I had this niggling little idea that
it wasn't the first time she had tried to get our attention. I was trying
to engage the speech centers of my mind enough to respond, when Ethan
saved me the trouble.
"Yes?"
She smirked, and said, "I think that answers the last question on
paperwork, but there are a couple of other details to address."
"Details?" Ethan parroted, blinking slowly. Maybe that kiss had
affected him a bit, too. Good.
Tirce pointed at our seat, and Ethan took his place. Since the only
thing holding me up was his arm, I therefore sat as well. I suppose it
was the feel of the springy wicker on my mostly-bare leg, but the change
in position started me on a path to . . . cognition again and I managed
to focus my eyes on Tirce. She was still smiling that smugly-satisfied
generous aunt smile, ready to do something else nice for us.
"What I have done so far," she explained, "has been to change your
DNA to a new pattern, then cause your bodies to adjust as though that
DNA had always been your pattern - with an appropriate age modification
at the same time."
That did raise a question that hadn't really been bothering me,
consciously, but I now realized seemed strange. "Why did our
transformations take over a week, while Reyna's was apparently
instantaneous?"
She just smiled for a moment, as though the answer should be obvious.
Then she seemed to take pity on me or something, recognizing that my
thought processes were not as efficient as they might be. Anyway, she
chuckled that elegant chuckle and said, "So that you could face the
challenge of figuring out what was happening, and how to deal with it,
of course. Reyna's transformation was punishment, and her inability to
understand it was part of that. Your transformation was intended to
stimulate you; a set of clues for you to decipher, a test to see if you
could overcome your reliance on rational science. I must say, at least
in this case, Ethan seems to have done a better job."
"Um, yes. He's . . . wonderful," I murmured.
Tirce lost her regal look for a second and giggled. "Oh, I *do* like
to see young people in love." Regaining her temporarily surrendered
dignity, she said, "Now, back to the topic at hand. As I was saying, the
changes you've experienced so far have been limited to the biological. In
matters of style or fashion, I left you the way you had chosen to be
before. If you'd like, I can tweak things to achieve a more fashionable,
integrated look for each of you."
Ethan asked, a note of concern in his voice, "Like what? Anya is
just perfect the way she is."
"Calm down, children, and pay attention," Tirce ordered, a sharper
tone in her voice that wasn't at all supported by her kind smile. "Since
you seem to be so distracted right now, I'll offer a suggestion. Anya,
most young women in America have pierced ears. Would you like me to do
that for you? It would make wearing earrings much easier."
"Oh, that's what you meant," I said, breathing a little easier.
"Um, sure, that would be nice. Thank you." With that example,
accompanied by the sudden sensation of tugging weight as elegant
diamonds on small chains swung from my ears, I tried to think of anything
else that might be nice to have, things that we could do on our own if we
wanted, and therefore could more or less undo. It was actually Ethan that
spoke first, though, and to me.
"Anya, darling, would you mind if I cut my hair?"
"What?"
He smiled, and said, "I guess this is another thing I've done for you
more than for me. Having you brush my hair has been very pleasant, and
I've enjoyed doing the same for you, but I have to admit I haven't really
enjoyed long hair on this trip, not overall anyway. And I'm even less of
a fan of long hair on men. I respected your commitment to put up with
the bother if I would, and I think you've come to enjoy the sensuality of
it. Perhaps I was already jaded to that after 50 years of wearing it long
when I was Elaine. In any event, in my mind's eye the sort of man who
gains respect the minute he enters a room has a more traditional haircut."
"Oh, um, sure," I said, then got an idea of my own. "Ah, that is, if
you'll match it with a neatly-trimmed beard at the same time. I could
never grow one, but I've always thought they were sort of . . .
fascinating."
"Meaning I can quit shaving? You're on," he said quickly. Then he
realized he couldn't really make that promise himself, so he looked at
Tirce.
She smiled and nodded, then waved her hand a little. Ethan's blond
hair seemed to retract into his head, then sprout on his chin and lip as
the long ponytail he had worn became a nicely piratical beard. Or, um,
in his case with blond hair and those spectacular blue eyes, he'd make
a terrific Viking. It was entrancingly . . . masculine. Which helped me
to think of some things of my own.
"Madame Tirce, you've been so generous, but could I trouble you for a
few more things?"
At her nod, I said, "I'm not, um, very skilled in cosmetics, and we
don't have any on board that would work for my coloring anyway. I was
wondering, could you do some sort of, ah, semi-permanent things to make me
look like I was wearing, oh, you know, eyeshadow and things? Make them
last until we finish our cruise so that I can be pretty for Ethan all the
time?"
"You're so gorgeous now I can hardly breathe," he protested.
"Hush, dear. I'm just getting started. That is, with a little help
from Tirce," I said, patting his arm. I did look up at him and smile,
though, saying, "But thank you."
"Ah, very good," Tirce said. "It's been a long time since I helped
Cinderella, but I like to think I still have a bit of a talent for it."
"Cinderella?" Ethan repeated, but we ignored him.
"Let go of his hand, dear, so I can get your nails, too," Tirce
ordered.
I couldn't see most of what she did, but with that warning I looked
at my hands to see my nails grow quickly out to a most elegant length,
turning a dark, frosty red that I knew matched the color of the lipstick
I had found in Lainey's things. My lashes felt suddenly heavy, longer as
they tickled on my eyelids, and I had the impression - maybe the breeze
whispered lightly across them - that my eyebrows must have thinned a
little, too.
Ethan gasped, which certainly did nothing to assuage my own rampant
curiosity, and I was rather desperately looking around for a mirror to
see what she had done when Tirce waved her hand again and one formed
apparently out of thin air.
"Oh, my," I breathed. lifting a hand slowly to my face as though I
were afraid the image were an illusion that would shatter at any abrupt
sound or motion. The strangest thing was that for just a second I
couldn't even tell what she had done. It all looked so . . . right that
I wondered how much had been me before and how much was . . . well, I was
going to say magic but it was all magical. Anyway, I had to look closely
to see what was different. The only really distinct sign of makeup was
the glossy dark red of my lips (and my nails, of course). The rest was
subtle enough that it seemed just barely possible it was me. My lashes
were long and full, the eyes made huge by accenting liner and shadow that
started out cinnamon and blended seamlessly through paler colors. My
cheeks glowed with a healthy rose that captured a permanent blush, truly
something that might have been natural. Thanks to Tirce's prior magic, my
complexion had been flawless, tanned more darkly than a hothouse flower's
ivory, but vibrant with health. That remained, now given depth and
contour in ways that, as I said, were almost hard to discern except in
comparison with what I seemed to remember from just that morning when I
had tried some of this on my own.
"I take it that meets your expectations?" Tirce said.
"No, ma'am," I whispered, still looking in the mirror. I sensed
more than saw a bit of stiffness in Tirce's posture, so I forced my
attention away from . . . myself, to look at her directly. "No,
ma'am," I repeated. "It's ever so much more wonderful than I expected."
Her features relaxed once again from their regal elegance to smile
with genuine pleasure. She nodded, then turned to Ethan. "And you? Is
there anything else of fashion that you would like?"
"No, thank you," he replied politely. "As Anya said, you've already
been much more wonderful than we had any right, or even dream of
expecting."
"Very well, then," Tirce said. "That seems to about cover the rest
of your first wishes. Let's have a bite to eat, then I just have to show
you a little glade that will be the perfect place for the wedding."
And so we did, and so it was. I cried through most of the simple
ceremony (not realizing for a very long time how lucky I was that Tirce's
makeup was magically durable). The old words seemed new and perfect. The
breeze the drifted through the little glad sent a chorus of good wishes
from the leaves of every tree. Then Ethan kissed me again and made it
more perfect than possible, except when it happens for real.
We were Tirce's guests that evening for dinner, too. She was a
gracious host, witty and charming. I don't suppose we held up our end
of the conversation very well. I know that every time I looked at Ethan
I lost whatever train of thought I might have been following in favor of
thoughts that were decidedly improper for polite dinner talk.
" . . . so it might be a few days before I notice, but don't worry.
I won't forget," Tirce was saying.
"I'm sorry," I said, blushing even through the cosmetic glow. "I
must have missed something."
Tirce's face lit up with a self-satisfied smirk that seemed to have
found a place on her regal features more and more often as the evening
wore on. Well, she had the right. If anyone deserved to feel satisfied
with a job well done, it was her. That started the echo of a thought
that I couldn't quite get my mental arms around, and I almost missed what
she was saying again.
"I said," she repeated, "that when you want the cosmetic things to
go away, you'll have to tell me, and out loud, while you're getting
dressed in the morning. I'll look in on you every few days after you
finish your cruise until you tell me to remove the spell. Or, if you'd
like to keep them for longer, just say so a few times in the morning and
I'll leave you alone for a while. In the meantime, you'll find that your
nails don't break and that your mascara won't run."
"Thank you, that would be just wonderful," I said, looking at my
hands. "Though that means that Ethan will have to do most of the heavy
lifting and line work on the Breeze from here on out."
"Fine with me," he said, laughing and flexing his biceps. I gasped
at the muscle that popped up. So did he. Then we both laughed at
ourselves and I tried to ignore the sudden dampness in my panties. God,
he was a good-lookin' hunk of man.
It was not easy to sit politely through the rest of the dinner, no
matter how delicious all the dishes were. I knew that Tirce recognized
our anxiety, but she teased us with proper and elegant manners - which
means slow gracefulness - for an interminable meal. All the while she
had a sparkle in her eyes and I could tell she truly enjoyed the company,
even aside from the fun of teasing us.
"That's it!" I blurted out loud. Hmm, I hoped that wouldn't become a
bad habit.
"Excuse me, dear?" Tirce said.
I smiled to let her know this was not intended to be as serious as
the last time I had said the words, yet used the same language to let her
know I was nonetheless serious. "Madame Tirce, is it your intention to
grant us a wish, based on the work we have done to help you keep your
island beautiful?"
"You want *another* one?" she asked in surprise.
"Please, Madame, I'm so very grateful for all that you have done, and
if you say that we have consumed all our 'wish credit', then I won't
complain and I'll still love you for it. But there is one more thing that
I really, really want, and, well, you said the fashion things were really
just completing the previous wish, and that, um, we didn't need, ah, I
didn't need any more physical changes, so . . . "
"What is it you want, girl?" Tirce demanded, frowning.
"Madame Tirce, I wish that you would have companionship on a
continuing basis, so that you would never be lonely again."
Ethan said, "Oh, yes, that's an excellent idea. I wi . . . oops,
let's just say that I should have thought of it, too."
"What makes you think that I am lonely?" Tirce asked, but there were
tears in her eyes and it seemed her breath was catching irregularly.
"Madame Tirce . . oh, that sounds so formal, could I call you Aunt
Tirce? Anyway, you've been so charming at dinner that I just know you
like to be with people, but you're so isolated here. And though the
island is beautiful, it must be lonely at times."
"Yes. At times," she said, eyes overfilling and spilling a tear
down her cheek.
Ethan tried to help, and I think his insight was good. "But if you
were to, um, reveal yourself to people generally, you'd be besieged by
wishes and wouldn't be able to, um, observe and see what really needed
to be done."
She nodded, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin.
"Could I make a suggestion?" he asked.
Tirce nodded and he continued, "Perhaps it would be a way to resolve
two issues at once if we brought Reyna here to live with you. I think the
bad boy who had demanded a wish from you is long gone, and the girl child
he has become could provide your own challenge if you let her grow into a
woman on your island, yet you could be comfortable that she would not
revert to her old ways somehow."
"We'll go get her," I offered. "Ethan's idea is just perfect. One
person, who already knows of you but also knows the risks of crossing
you, would be an excellent way to keep from being lonely. Besides, I
particularly like the idea that you will face the challenge of teaching
a girl how to be a woman as I am learning the same thing."
Tirce looked up sharply at me, to see if I was challenging her - with
my attitude that is - but when she saw the happy smile I knew my pretty
new face was displaying, she could see I truly wanted her to be happy.
"Thank you, thank you both," she said softly. "I don't think I had
even realized myself how much truth there is in what you said. I will
consider it, carefully."
That seemed to bring the meal to a conclusion. Tirce was distracted
as we said our good-byes, though it was nothing like the distraction that
I was feeling.
I think wedding nights should be memories to be treasured in the
hearts of the participants, so I won't describe how Ethan made a woman of
me. I know now that I was not skilled at all, but I still take pride in
going to my wedding bed a virgin - even if my claim to that state was
very . . . convoluted. For the rest, suffice it to say that Tirce was
correct. With a little patience and a bit of, um, proper attention to the
right, um, controls, my body opened up to my husband like a flower
unfolding in the sunlight. He was actually more patient than I was -
much more patient - and when he finally rocked my world the waves were
detectable as far away as Sydney (though they didn't know what caused it,
of course, so they never gave proper credit to my hero-husband).
Oh, one other thing. Ethan's beard, especially the moustache part,
tickles. Not that I'm complaining.
We rose late the next morning. No, actually that's not true. *I*
rose late, but Ethan rose early, middle, late, and more besides. In any
event, when we finally got dressed and were ready to leave the Breeze to
see what Tirce had decided, we came on deck to find her standing on the
dock.
"Good morning, Aunt Tirce," I said, carefully. She had never really
agreed that I could address her that informally.
"Good morning," she replied cheerfully. "At least, for a little
while longer it's still morning."
I blushed, but I swear Ethan preened like a peacock. Well, he had
certainly earned the right.
"I came down to see you on your way," Tirce said. "I have decided
to let Reyna come here for a while. If it doesn't work out, I'll find
some other situation for her."
Ethan nodded, and said, "So, do you want us to go get her? It should
take about a week for the round trip, if there's no weather problem."
"No, that will not be necessary. I just wanted you to know. But I
also think it would be a good idea for me to get to know Reyna on my own,
so . . ."
"So we've worn out our welcome already," I said, laughing, then
jumped down to give her a big hug. "It's okay, Aunt Tirce. We love you
anyway. Besides, we've only got a year to get home, and we might find
some other distractions along the way."
"If you ever come out of your cabin," she replied, smirking. But her
arms were as tightly around me as mine were around her.
Ethan jumped to the dock as well and wrapped her up in his arms after
I let her go. He leaned down to kiss her forehead and said, "Thank you,
Aunt Tirce, for more things and in more ways than we could ever count, let
alone repay."
Tirce was misting again. At least, I think so. Lord knows I was
having enough trouble seeing. There was an awkward moment, none of us
quite ready to take the next step to leave, yet none of us ready to start
something other than leaving. Finally Tirce herself broke the long moment
of silence.
"Would you like to see Reyna before you go?"
"She doesn't need to know we had anything to do with the changes in
her life," I said.
"Well, she would anyway, because I will be sure to tell her," Tirce
replied. "But there is actually a reason for letting her see you before
you go."
"A reason?" I repeated.
Tirce nodded, then motioned for us to step back. When there was a
clear space, she made the obligatory mystic motions and chanted in some
arcane language - don't ask me how it worked - then there was a pop (no
smoke) and Reyna was standing on the dock between us.
"Hello, Reyna," Tirce said.
"Where am I?" asked the thin little girl.
"Tirce's Island," said Ethan.
"Oh, God, no! Help me!" she wailed.
I caught her in my arms and said, "Take it easy. This is good news."
"But she did, I mean, she said . . . she will . . ."
"Calm down, child. I won't hurt you?" Tirce said.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Tirce."
"You? But you're . . . beautiful," Reyna said in wonder.
"Thank you, dear," Tirce said. "I have decided to give you another
chance. I won't let you be hurt any more."
"Are you going to make me be Reynaud again?" the girl asked, shying
away from Tirce.
"Is that what you want?" asked Tirce.
"No! He was . . . evil. What he did, before you . . . before was
evil. I hate him. Don't make me be him again, please?"
"You won't have to be Reynaud again," Tirce promised. "In fact, if
you'd like, you can live here with me on the island. No one will harm you
here."
"Really?" Reyna asked, eyes growing impossibly in that thin face.
"Would you like that?" asked Tirce.
Reyna just nodded, tears erupting from her huge eyes as she flung
herself into Tirce's arms. Well, she wasn't the only one. Even Ethan
was blinking pretty quickly for a while. Blinking wasn't enough for me.
I was way past overfull and flooding freely.
"Reyna, I want you to thank these two," Tirce instructed the waif.
"It is because of their intervention that I have decided to help you."
"You?" Reyna said, turning to look at us. "Do I know you?"
"We met on the dock in Taiohae," Ethan explained.
"I, um, I'm not sure . . ," Reyna said, then she looked at the
Twilight Breeze. "I think I remember the boat, but, you were. . .
different then."
"A bit," I agreed, smiling.
"You're so . . . pretty," she said hesitantly. "I think I would
have remembered."
"Aunt Tirce has helped with that," I explained. "She can help you,
too."
"I could never be as beautiful as you," Reyna said sadly.
"Wanna bet?" I challenged, but my eyes went to Tirce with the real
challenge.
"I promise you, Reyna, that you will grow up to be just as pretty,"
Tirce said, making that promise to us as much as to her, then she added
a warning that was fair. "But only if you mind me while you are on my
island. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Reyna said quickly.
"Oh, bother. I have never liked being called 'ma'am'," Tirce said.
"I suppose since everyone else seems to be doing it, you can call me 'Aunt
Tirce' if you want."
"Thank you, Tante Tirce," Reyna said hesitantly.
"Did you know that tears are almost exactly the same composition as
sea water?" Ethan asked in a dramatic non sequitur. Then he explained, "I
bring that up because if the three of you start trying to flood the Ocean
again, you should know it won't really do any good. No one will be able
to tell the difference."
"The three of *us*?" I said, slapping his arm. "We're not the only
ones, Mister Macho."
He flinched as though I had really hit him, but it served his
purpose. The incipient round of bawling was transformed into giggles,
though there was still a whole lot of blinking going on.
"We really should be going," I said, moving once more to hug Tirce.
Well, so much for staving off the tears. But the momentum had been
started, and somehow we managed to cast off and motor from the little
bay.
"Live long, and prosper," Tirce called to us. And who were we to
argue with a witch?
EPILOG
We made it to the United States in only another two weeks, but that
was in Hawaii. We were indeed distracted there for a while. As a result,
we had spent 7 of our allotted 12 months before we were once again on the
mainland. That still gave me plenty of time to make other arrangements so
the decision on having a baby is still an option one way or the other.
I have to admit, I had gotten quite spoiled by the luxury of not
having to do makeup every day - I even came to like the long nails - so
for several weeks after we got home I said a little prayer of sorts and
asked Tirce not to take away that addition to her gifts to us. It seems
to have worked, because I've looked the same for almost ten years now.
In fact, I look just about exactly the same. Ethan tells me that all
the time, but I would have put that down to shameless flattery (which he
also does all the time), except he looks the same to me, too. I don't
know just how 'long' the 'long, happy, healthy life' will be that Tirce
has given us, but it seems we're not going to hurry to the geriatric ward.
I've often wished . . oops, I've gotten a lot more careful about that
in the last few years - you never know who might be listening. Anyway,
I've often thought it would be interesting to have Tirce's second sight.
I'd like to look in on her and see how she's doing. Perhaps one of these
days we'll take the Breeze back to sea and see if we can find that
particular corner of paradise again.
Maybe this time, I'll wish that Ethan's moustache wouldn't tickle so
much. On the other hand . . . ooh, damn, now I'm going to have to change
panties again. Ah, well, maybe I can get Ethan to help me. I'll make it
worth his while. He can always get back to his latest adventure novel
some other time. I may even help him with, um, acting out some of the
scenes. Hmm . . . I wonder where I put that old blue bikini, the one
that's still way too small for me. For some reason, he seems to really
like the way I look in that one - and like even more the way I look out of
it. A woman notices these things, when she's as lucky as I am.
