“I swear it doesn’t hurt,” she insisted. Tiffany rolled her eyes and shook her head at Mark, standing behind Satira so she couldn’t see. They laughed, and Satira got a confused look on her face.  “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Tiffany said quickly. “What gauge do you want?”
“What will work?” Tiffany bent over Satira’s shoulder to look at her ear.
“I might be able to do a fourteen, but I’d go with a sixteen for now. You can always stretch it later if you want it bigger so you can wear a bar.”
“I don’t think I’ll wear a bar. I like the rings better.” Tiffany nodded, getting out the needle and clamp. Satira stood, going to the jewelry counter to pick out her jewelry. She brought back a small silver ring with a green bead and plopped back into the chair. Mark and Scottie watched in amazement as Tiffany pierced Satira with little reaction. Satira stood, looking in the mirror.  “What do you think?” Mark stood.
“I didn’t think it took very long,” he said, leaning down to get a better look. She smacked him. “It’s cool,” he said. “Could you do that to yourself?” he asked Tiffany. She laughed.
“Probably not. I don’t like them anyway. It would look pretty dopey on me.” Scottie laughed.
“Well, at least you choose your piercings carefully,” he said with a smile. She nodded. He stretched. “I think I’m ready for my new tattoo,” he said excitedly. Mark shook his head, an amused smile sliding across his lips.
“What are you getting now?” Satira demanded. He shrugged. “Tribal?” He shook his head. “Well, you know where the displays are – go pick something out. You getting anything Mark?” Mark laughed and quickly shook his head.
“Why not?” Tiffany asked, washing her hands.
“Mark’s afraid of needles,” Satira said. Tiffany laughed.
“So am I,” she offered. Mark’s eyebrow rose again. “I pass out almost every time I get a new body piercing. Ears are no big deal, but anything on the body makes me nervous. I don’t mind doing them at all, but when it’s someone else piercing me, it’s different.” Just then Scottie yelled something from up front. Satira jogged down the hall.
“So how long have you been… uh…” Mark asked, unsure of what he was trying to ask.
“A piercer slash tattoo artist?” He nodded, smiling slightly. She was taken aback by his eyes. “A few months. I go to school part time too, so it’s helping me pay for that.”
“So it pays well?” She laughed.
“You have no idea.”
“What’s your boyfriend think of all of this?” She rolled her eyes.
“My boyfriend’s a jackass,” she said, her voice becoming edgy. “He thinks it’s mutilation.”
“So why are you with him?”
“Because I haven’t broken up with him yet,” she said with a sly grin. He laughed. She shrugged, eager to get away from the subject. “So what can I pierce for you today?” she asked. He shook his head vigorously. “C’mon,” she pressed. “Something simple. Eyebrow?” He shook his head. “Tongue.” He made a face and shook his head. “Tragus?” He gave her a look, and she laughed. “Your ears again.” He shook his head. “Labret?”
“What’s that?”
“Middle of the lower lip.” She pointed. He shook his head again, laughing.
“Prince Albert?”
“I’m afraid to ask,” he said.
“Trust me, you don’t want it,” Satira said, standing in the doorway. “Scottie wants to know if you can do the tattoo he wants.” Tiffany looked up at her.
“You know what I can do,” she said, her eyebrow raised.
“I don’t know about this one.”
“Tribal?” Satira shook her head. Tiffany stood, and Mark watched her exit the room.
“She’s something,” Mark said quietly.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Mark shrugged.

***

“What is it, Scottie?” Tiffany asked, rounding the corner.
“This one,” he said, pointing to an intricate design. Tiffany took a deep breath.
“I don’t know,” she said, leaning closer to look. She walked over to the jewelry counter and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, sitting down in front of the display to try drawing the design. He watched her, intrigued. Something about this girl caught his attention, and he didn’t know what. She held up the drawing and made a face. He laughed.
“Maybe Satira should do it. She designed it,” Tiffany said. “I only do tribal stuff, mostly, unless it’s something really easy.” He nodded.
“Where’s your stuff?”
“The last three displays.” He flipped through, stopping to look at one more closely. She stood and looked over his shoulder.
“Which is your favorite?” he asked quietly, the lack of distance between them making his hair stand on end.
“Hmm…” Her eyes wandered over her own work, searching. A slight smile found her lips, and she silently pointed over his shoulder. It was a nonsensical pattern, but was intricate and beautiful. His eyes twinkled.
“What’s it mean?”
“Nothing. It’s just pretty,” she laughed. “What do you have already?”  He lifted his shirtsleeve up, and she ran her fingers down his skin, inspecting his tattoos. Goose bumps rose on his skin at her touch. She nodded, and he felt her hair brush against his skin. She tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “What about a tribal moon or something, down here?” She pointed. “Or a lizard or something. You could get a nature mural thing goin’.” He smiled.
“Hey – I just thought of something.” He called Satira’s name, and she walked down the hall, her eyebrows raised. “Do you have your necklace with you?” She nodded, pulling it out from underneath her shirt. “What about that, on my ankle?” he asked. She inspected the necklace, a small tribal looking shield design. Her eyebrows furled, and she walked across the room to the desk, pulling out a small binder. “What’s that?”
“Her portfolio,” Satira said.
“I think I’ve done something like that,” Tiffany mumbled, flipping through her pictures. She nodded, passing the binder to Satira and Scottie. Mark appeared in the room, and they passed it to him. He nodded, obviously impressed.
“Could you do that again?” Scottie asked, his blue eyes twinkling. She nodded, positive she could do it just as well, if not better. “Cool.” She headed back to her chair, Scottie following her, and got ready to do the tattoo. Mark’s cell phone rang, and he jumped off his chair to pull it from his pocket.
“Yeah… hey man… getting Scottie’s new tattoo… yeah…sure, if you want to, I guess…” he winked at Satira, and she smiled. “You know where it is?… okay… see you in a few then… bye.”
“Was that who I think it was?” Satira asked, her green eyes twinkling. Mark nodded. Tiffany was confused again, but didn’t say anything. She got halfway into Scottie’s tattoo when she heard the doorbells jingle again. She wiped off Scottie’s ankle looking up just in time to see Satira go running down the hall. She laughed, shaking her head. She returned her attention to his tattoo, hearing voices coming down the hall. “This is my newest slave, Tiffany,” she heard Satira say, and she fought to keep from laughing and messing up the tattoo. She stopped so she could laugh, wiping the blood from Scottie’s skin again. She politely said hi to the man Satira was so excited about and turned back to her work. She felt his eyes on her, but shook the feeling, telling herself that he was just watching her do her thing. She finished the tattoo, not bothering to tell Scottie how to care for his new artwork. From what she could tell, he took very good care of his tattoos, and figured that he would know by now.
On to Part Three