Fic: I Wanna Feel The Earth, I Wanna Break It In My Hands.
Little thing written for the femslash_minis community.
Title: I Wanna Feel The Earth, I Wanna Break It In My Hands.
Pairing: Fred/Illyria
Rating: PG-13 (for hints at sex)
Word Count: 3700
Prompt for aliceinkinkland : AU in which Illyria infects someone other than Fred. Including a weapon, confusion over social customs and the Scientific Method.
A/n: The title is from a Dixie Chicks song (as all Fred fic should be), Cowboy Take Me Away. I'm really sorry this is late, I'd forgotten how much I suck at deadlines. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it. Now I can finally read the other fic without guilt :) Thank you to electra126 for giving this a beta.
I Wanna Feel The Earth, I Wanna Break It In My Hands
(or: A Scientist and a GodKing walk into a Gym . . .)
“This is beneath me,” Illyria intoned, the timbre of her voice echoing off of the glass walls. “Standing here as you orbit me, allowing you to strike me with your electromagnetic radiations, and scratch your sigils into your flimsy parchment.”
It was true, in the literal sense; Fred was kind of beneath her. She had always felt, since puberty, kind of tall and gangly around other women, but Illyria made her feel small. It was like Harmony had grown a foot taller the day the Old One had infected her.
“It’s called paper, it’s useful stuff. And if you could just hold still for another minute or two we’ll be done with this part for today,” she promised as she ran her digital scanner the length and breadth of what had been Harmony’s body.
“It is fragile. It burns when hot, it melts when wet and it collapses in on itself when not handled with delicacy. In my time we carved our words into the sides of mountains and they were eternal.”
“Sounds like you’d go through a lot of erasers that way.” Seeing Illyria with a question on her blue lips she held up a hand. “Just another minute.”
“I tire of your minutes. There are too many of them and not enough. Why is this?”
“One of life’s little mysteries?”
“Mysteries are not real. There is only what is and what will be.”
“Uh huh.”
Fred moved the scanner slowly, not wanting to miss anything. Whether mysteries were real or just a figment of human imagination, it was her job to figure this one out. Not that she was getting very far with it. The scanner beeped at irregular intervals as it revealed information, but it was scant and inconclusive and she was starting to suspect that anything really worth knowing about the GodKing’s internal structure was being hidden by ‘the shell’. She absently knock-knocked on a shoulder-blade and startled back at the speed Illyria spun to face her, a hand gripping hers tight enough to almost hurt.
“And now you think to strike me with your ineffectual fists as well. I would arm myself with a weapon first, if you think to do that again, Scientist.”
“Sorry. That was rude of me. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.” Her apology was accepted and her hand released. Fred flexed it a few times to make sure the bones were still intact, but it was really only her poise that had been shattered. “I won’t do that again without asking.”
Illyria nodded and resumed her graceful, statue-like pose.
The red leather mottled with blue that encased Illyria really did feel as hard as a shell under her knuckles. Impenetrable; the perfect armor. And it was so tight to the skin Fred wasn’t even sure it came off. She certainly hadn’t found a zipper anywhere yet. Maybe it was her skin. If so, Harmony had been hiding an amazing body under her clothes - except for the part about it looking like leather, obviously.
“Okay, so those are all exactly as they were yesterday,” she sighed, feeling a little let down. How many people actually got to study an Old One so intimately, and yet she felt like was learning so little that knowing ‘nothing at all’ had barely been a step ago.
“So I am in good health?”
Fred grinned over her clipboard. “Was that a . . . did you just make a joke?”
“No. I do not know. What is a joke?”
“It’s a . . . you know what? Never mind. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. If all your stats are always the same when you’re just standing here maybe we should try something different. Or maybe it’s the ‘here’ that’s the problem and we should be tryin . . .”
“I asked you a question, Scientist. You will answer or I will impart justice for your act of disobedience.”
“Not disobeying, just trying to save us both some time.”
“Time is mine to command. Now tell me, what is this joke?”
Fred sighed and capped her pen, setting it and her clipboard aside for now. She didn’t like giving in to bullies, but she’d seen what Illyria could do to a person when It was pissed off. There was still a Knox-shaped stain on the floor of lab-2 and there was an easy chance Spike’s new limp would be with him for the rest of his unlife - not even vampires could quickly recover from facing a GodKing’s impatient wrath, or so it looked so far.
“A joke is . . .” How did you even explain the concept to someone? Jokes were an integral part of human life, something you just grew up understanding. Not everyone had a sense of humor, she knew - some days she felt like she worked with everyone on the planet who didn’t - but everyone knew what a joke was. “It’s something that makes you laugh. If it’s a good one, anyway.”
“I see. When I torched the land of Belthamzoar I laughed for days to see the people scurrying from their burned settlements, their cloth coverings singed or still alive with flames. This was a joke?”
Even knowing it must have happened hundreds of thousands of years ago didn’t ease Fred’s compassionate wincing. “I don’t think so.”
“But I laughed!” Illyria sounded angry.
“Then you shouldn’t have! Jokes are supposed to be funny, not mean.”
“Mean?”
“Cruel. A cruel joke isn’t funny.”
“You must tell me what a real joke is then.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Fred shrugged, trying to ease out of it. “I have a better idea, why don’t we go down to one of the . . .”
“Tell me one of your funny jokes or we shall see how funny it is when I pull your arms off. I suspect they will come off as easily as a spider’s legs. I will even let you document the results, as I know how important that is to you.”
Fred chuckled nervously, “See, now that would have been funny if you, you know, didn’t actually mean it.”
“Now!”
It wasn’t a shout - Illyria didn’t really shout that much, she didn’t need to -, but it turned Fred’s insides to squish all the same and she hurried to think of a joke. What a great time for her mind to be blank!
“I-uh . . .” she waved her hands around helplessly as she tried to think of any joke she had ever heard. She’d never been the class clown but surely she must have hundreds that had just washed up into her brain over the years. Illyria took a step towards her and Fred rushed out some words, just hoping they made sense. “A man walks into a bar and tells the barman he wants an alligator sandwich and he better make it snappy!”
Fred froze afterwards, waiting for the reaction. Illyria’s head tilted to the side as she regarded her. The laboratory lights made the blue streaks shine in the blonde hair.
“And then what happened?” Illyria demanded.
“Uh, nothing, that was the end of the joke.”
“So the alligator didn’t devour the sandwich-eater?”
“No!”
“He ate the barman while he was preparing the sustaining life source?”
“No! The alligator doesn’t matter, the funny bit is that . . . they like to snap and the man asked for his sandwich to be made quickly, like snappily.”
Harmony’s blue-tinged face stared at her without expression for . . . well, perhaps It could control time because it felt like eons passed. And then Illyria smiled.
Nodding at the victory, Fred smiled too. “See, it’s funny!”
Illyria’s face went back to untouchable. “I was remembering the time I saw an alligator eat an entire family of Altrusians.”
Fred’s nose and mouth wrinkled in distaste. “Oh. Anyway, that’s what a joke is. So how about we try something new today?”
“Why?”
“So we can actually get some decent observations on you instead of the same ol’ readings day after day.” Illyria gave her that head tilt again. She was like a little Blue Jay, Fred decided, with the hair and all. A tall, leather-encased, intimidating little Blue Jay. “So what do you say?”
“Will there be weapons? I like weapons. They do not try to be funny.”
Fred wasn’t sure that was a good idea, not with Illyria in this mood - not that she’d yet seen her in any other - but it was probably something Angel and the team could get useful data out of.
“Sure we can, eventually, but there’s something else I’d like to try first.”
They relocated to the Gym. It was generally for employee use only, but Fred figured nobody was gonna object. She was right, everyone - humans and demons alike - were suddenly desperate to get back to their offices when she entered with the big, blue Old One. She caught one young, fit-looking woman as she tried to rush by.
“Hey, sorry to trouble you, but can you be my test subject?”
“What? No! I mean, sorry I have a meeting with Mr. Angel.” She tried to back away.
She doubted that was true anyway, but it was the perfect excuse for her. “Oh that’s not a problem, I’ll okay it with him. I have an in with the boss,” she grinned. “All I really need you to do is the exact same exercises as Illyria and it won’t take . . .”
“Uh, I think I have a headache . . . It could be contagious, I should probably just . . .”
She might have finished the sentence, Fred couldn’t be sure with how fast she ran away.
“I guess it’s just you and me then,” she sighed as she turned to face Illyria.
The GodKing was standing in the middle of the gym equipment, looking around. “Are these insects frozen in time?”
“No.” Fred chuckled. “It’s equipment to work out on. You know, for when you want to get in better shape than you already are.”
“Real beings strive for fitness by destroying their enemies.”
“Okay, but that was back when you were an actual being, right? And not when you’re just a nasty mummy cough inhabiting Angel’s P.A.?”
“You think to mock me?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. So, shall we try the treadmill first?”
She had to demonstrate how it worked first, but as soon as Illyria stepped on there was a noticeable difference in her attitude.
“This makes me feel . . . more myself.”
Fred didn’t know what that meant yet, but she was more than happy to record it. In fact for the next two hours she recorded everything. Treadmill, rowing machine, weights, other weights. When they’d used every piece of equipment she encouraged - politely - Illyria to do jumping jacks, press ups, sit ups and pull ups.
“How do you feel?” she asked, like she had after everything as well as using her hand-held scanner to record heart-rate and blood pressure.
“I feel good. I feel . . . strong.”
“Strong enough to do it all again?”
Apparently It did and Fred grinned as she recorded all of the new data as meticulously as she had the first time. There were changes now. Blood pressure was down - not what you’d expect after a bout of heavy exercise, so that was interesting - and whatever the Old One had passing for a heart was beating very quickly. Three times the speed a human’s should even after working out, and one and half times more than it had when Illyria was just standing in her lab letting the scanner run over her.
“I think we’re really getting something here,” she said after the third round, hunched over the vaulting horse she was using as a temporary desk. “Oh!”
She hadn’t realized Illyria had come to stand so close behind her. It really was kinda remarkable that they’d been at this for nearly six hours and the Old One hadn’t even worked up a sweat. Fred had been perspiring for four of them just from watching her! She reached a hand up and out, only to remember her manners before her arm was pulled off.
“Can I touch you? Just for a second.” Illyria stared her down for long enough that Fred was about to take it back and reach for her scanner instead. And then there was a slow nod. “Thank you.”
She placed her palm on Illyria’s brow to find it burning with inner heat. On a human it would have indicated a deathly fever of some kind, but . . . Fred moved her palm down to Illyria’s cheek and then the base of her throat, all were just as hot.
“So exercise does increase your body temperature, you just don’t excrete perspiration.”
“I am a leader of worlds, not an ignoble beast.”
She wasn’t really sure what that had to with anything. Presidents and Kings sweated just the same as regular folk. And now she was caught, between writing down her new observations and continuing her physical examination while it was permitted.
She ran her hands down Illyria’s arms and frowned. It only deepened when she gently stroked over her stomach.
“Is this a human mating ritual?” Illyria asked as Fred was running a hand up the center of her chest.
The frown was blown away by a shocked gasp and a strained impulsive giggle. “No! Obviously not. I was just . . .” There was just something . . . "Look, I’m going to knock on you again, okay? With my fist, but I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Not hearing or seeing any dissent, Fred tapped her fist a few times against Illyria’s shoulder. The hard casing was definitely more malleable now. Still tough, but softer like well-worn leather. It could have been the spike in body temperature causing it or, you know, maybe the GodKing was just relaxing a little.
It was definitely worth taking note of, and she turned back to the gym horse to do just that.
"So we are not going to fornicate?”
Fred felt a blush rise in her cheek and hunched over even further. “I don’t think that would really be appropriate, do you?”
“I do not know what appropriateness has to do with it. Is it appropriate to keep someone with as much power as I cooped up in your glass rooms, to make them run endlessly with no hope of getting . . . anywhere, to try them and test them and analyze them as if they were no more than molecules bouncing around for your amusement?”
Fred had a moment of shame, but it passed. This wasn’t Illyria’s time, she shouldn’t be here. Nobody had asked for It to be shipped to Wolfram and Hart and cough up its essence on Harmony. Maybe nobody else was that bothered, life and unlife was going on as normal, but Fred cared. She and Harmony had been friends, kind of. There had been a spark of it between them anyway.
“You know what? I totally get what you’re saying. Maybe me making you jump through hoops isn’t really fair. But do you know what’s even unfairer? The girl you’re inside of now? She would love to be hanging out in the gym with me but she can’t be because when you forced your way in you pushed her out. And she didn’t deserve that. Harmony was sweet and nice, you know, for a vampire, and giving and sexy and she’d had her whole un-life ahead of her before you robbed her of that! So don’t stand there and talk to me about what’s fair or-or appropriate, because do you know what? She would have died all over again to know how good those blue streaks would look in her hair and you took that chance away from her!”
“You are angered by my words.”
“No, I’m angry with you.”
Illyria’s head tilted, bird-like again. “You had feelings for the shell.”
“Don’t call her that! And yes, I had feelings for her. That's what we humans do; we love, we hate, sometimes we desire, we feel."
"I know, you reek of it. It offends and arouses me."
Fred took a step back at that and bumped against the vaulting horse. Her clipboard hit the floor, no doubt crumpling her fragile paperwork. "What do you mean by that exactly?"
"The shell is reacting to your pheromones." Illyria was staring down at herself, her hands running curiously over the red leather moulded around her chest and thighs. "Your passionate attachment to the follies of your kind are . . . exciting it."
"Oh, I am? I mean it is? I didn't mean for that to happen." Fred tried to put more space between them, forgetting about the horse again. "But it's probably something I should write down so . . ."
Illyria's examination of Harmony's curves ended abruptly and Fred was suddenly caught by that startling blue gaze. "I wish to procreate now."
“You wish to what?” She really hoped she’d heard that wrong.
“The trials you have put me through have made me feel strong again and the musk rising from the reddening skin of your chest tells of the perfect way to make this land my own. I shall put my seeds in you and birth an army fit to conquer this world once and forever more.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“There is a problem with your aural sense. How did I not know this before?”
“Yep, that’s me. Deaf as a post. So I’m not really the most suitable person to spawn your GodPrinces after all. Also, we don’t really have the right parts for that.”
“What do you mean, parts?”
Was she really going to have to have the birds and the bees talk right now? “Well, me and that form, uh, Harmony’s form aren’t really compatible to make babies, you know?” Illyria just stared at her. “We’re both female and you kinda need different genitalia to . . . birth an army, is all I’m saying.”
Illyria seemed to understand, if her weary sigh was anything to go by. And Fred had observed it enough to conclusively say it was. “Your kind are so primitive. How do you stand it?”
“You kind of just get used to it as you grow up.”
“You shouldn’t. It makes no sense to settle for less than you can be.”
“Oh, we don’t all settle for that, but there’s no point striving for things that just can’t be, right?” she said, hopefully.
Illyria tilted her head up to stare at a corner of the ceiling. Fred waited a moment until it was clear the Old One was deep in thought and then she scurried around the exercise horse and picked up her clipboard, noting in dismay that her flimsy paperwork had folded and creased on impact with the floor.
"So anyway, where were we?”
“I have known races that can procreate with the blink of an eye, impregnate with a brush of fins, copulate with the mere entwining of limbs.”
So they were still on that. Okay. Suddenly she felt the need to rush to the defense of the human race.
“We can copulate. I mean, two women can copulate. We’re not that backward.” Illyria was eyeing her with interest again. “But we can’t make spawn by doing it!”
“Are you convinced of this?”
“Yes!”
“But I am a GodKing, perhaps your rules of procreation do not apply to me.”
“I’m pretty sure they do,” Fred insisted, squeakily. A moment ago she’d felt safer with the horse as a barrier between them, but now Illyria was staring at her again with those bright, unfathomable eyes. “I think, anyway.”
“You are a Scientist,” Illyria spat the word at her, which should have done nothing to make this conversation any more appealing. “If I understand this term correctly, should you not wish to experiment?”
It was Fred’s turn for her head to tilt contemplatively. Yearning for knowledge was kind of her thing, and there was no way anyone could ever try and steal it from her this time. And she was pretty sure she couldn’t really get impregnated by the Old One.
Pretty sure wasn’t totally sure, though.
“Have you ever created a child though your eyes, fins or by entwining your limbs?” She readied her crumpled clipboard to record the answer.
“No. My offspring cover galaxies far and wide, all created within the burst of a star as it left my fingertips.”
Okay, so that was inconclusive. As lovely as it sounded to be a star-burst, Fred was happier not having one burst through her, or out of her.
“Okay, so we’ll put us having sex on the back-burner for now, until I’ve had time to look into it a little more.”
“Why?”
“As a scientist it’s important for me to fully research it. You understand.”
“I do not! I have . . . pent up energy! What am I to do with it? This feeling, it overtakes me. Makes me feel . . . raw and open. I will not be left to suffer in this way, I must have an outlet . . . Your . . . your clipboard it . . . it offends me! Make this feeling go away or . . . or . . .”
Uneasiness was taking Fred over until she had an idea. “You’re going to be fine. Let me introduce you to Angel’s weapon cupboard and call Spike down here.”
“The half-breed is not as appealing a mate as you!”
It was ridiculous but Fred blushed. “So don’t have sex with him, just . . . fight out your urges.”
“And we shall meet another time? To gather this information. You make a promise of that?”
Yep, they’d be meeting again tomorrow for another round of all of this. To record more stats, more data, more observations, but she didn’t think Illyria meant that. Her mind was still on copulation.
“Yes, we’ll meet another time,” Fred promised with a smile.
After all, she was a scientist.
Title: I Wanna Feel The Earth, I Wanna Break It In My Hands.
Pairing: Fred/Illyria
Rating: PG-13 (for hints at sex)
Word Count: 3700
Prompt for aliceinkinkland : AU in which Illyria infects someone other than Fred. Including a weapon, confusion over social customs and the Scientific Method.
A/n: The title is from a Dixie Chicks song (as all Fred fic should be), Cowboy Take Me Away. I'm really sorry this is late, I'd forgotten how much I suck at deadlines. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it. Now I can finally read the other fic without guilt :) Thank you to electra126 for giving this a beta.
I Wanna Feel The Earth, I Wanna Break It In My Hands
(or: A Scientist and a GodKing walk into a Gym . . .)
“This is beneath me,” Illyria intoned, the timbre of her voice echoing off of the glass walls. “Standing here as you orbit me, allowing you to strike me with your electromagnetic radiations, and scratch your sigils into your flimsy parchment.”
It was true, in the literal sense; Fred was kind of beneath her. She had always felt, since puberty, kind of tall and gangly around other women, but Illyria made her feel small. It was like Harmony had grown a foot taller the day the Old One had infected her.
“It’s called paper, it’s useful stuff. And if you could just hold still for another minute or two we’ll be done with this part for today,” she promised as she ran her digital scanner the length and breadth of what had been Harmony’s body.
“It is fragile. It burns when hot, it melts when wet and it collapses in on itself when not handled with delicacy. In my time we carved our words into the sides of mountains and they were eternal.”
“Sounds like you’d go through a lot of erasers that way.” Seeing Illyria with a question on her blue lips she held up a hand. “Just another minute.”
“I tire of your minutes. There are too many of them and not enough. Why is this?”
“One of life’s little mysteries?”
“Mysteries are not real. There is only what is and what will be.”
“Uh huh.”
Fred moved the scanner slowly, not wanting to miss anything. Whether mysteries were real or just a figment of human imagination, it was her job to figure this one out. Not that she was getting very far with it. The scanner beeped at irregular intervals as it revealed information, but it was scant and inconclusive and she was starting to suspect that anything really worth knowing about the GodKing’s internal structure was being hidden by ‘the shell’. She absently knock-knocked on a shoulder-blade and startled back at the speed Illyria spun to face her, a hand gripping hers tight enough to almost hurt.
“And now you think to strike me with your ineffectual fists as well. I would arm myself with a weapon first, if you think to do that again, Scientist.”
“Sorry. That was rude of me. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.” Her apology was accepted and her hand released. Fred flexed it a few times to make sure the bones were still intact, but it was really only her poise that had been shattered. “I won’t do that again without asking.”
Illyria nodded and resumed her graceful, statue-like pose.
The red leather mottled with blue that encased Illyria really did feel as hard as a shell under her knuckles. Impenetrable; the perfect armor. And it was so tight to the skin Fred wasn’t even sure it came off. She certainly hadn’t found a zipper anywhere yet. Maybe it was her skin. If so, Harmony had been hiding an amazing body under her clothes - except for the part about it looking like leather, obviously.
“Okay, so those are all exactly as they were yesterday,” she sighed, feeling a little let down. How many people actually got to study an Old One so intimately, and yet she felt like was learning so little that knowing ‘nothing at all’ had barely been a step ago.
“So I am in good health?”
Fred grinned over her clipboard. “Was that a . . . did you just make a joke?”
“No. I do not know. What is a joke?”
“It’s a . . . you know what? Never mind. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. If all your stats are always the same when you’re just standing here maybe we should try something different. Or maybe it’s the ‘here’ that’s the problem and we should be tryin . . .”
“I asked you a question, Scientist. You will answer or I will impart justice for your act of disobedience.”
“Not disobeying, just trying to save us both some time.”
“Time is mine to command. Now tell me, what is this joke?”
Fred sighed and capped her pen, setting it and her clipboard aside for now. She didn’t like giving in to bullies, but she’d seen what Illyria could do to a person when It was pissed off. There was still a Knox-shaped stain on the floor of lab-2 and there was an easy chance Spike’s new limp would be with him for the rest of his unlife - not even vampires could quickly recover from facing a GodKing’s impatient wrath, or so it looked so far.
“A joke is . . .” How did you even explain the concept to someone? Jokes were an integral part of human life, something you just grew up understanding. Not everyone had a sense of humor, she knew - some days she felt like she worked with everyone on the planet who didn’t - but everyone knew what a joke was. “It’s something that makes you laugh. If it’s a good one, anyway.”
“I see. When I torched the land of Belthamzoar I laughed for days to see the people scurrying from their burned settlements, their cloth coverings singed or still alive with flames. This was a joke?”
Even knowing it must have happened hundreds of thousands of years ago didn’t ease Fred’s compassionate wincing. “I don’t think so.”
“But I laughed!” Illyria sounded angry.
“Then you shouldn’t have! Jokes are supposed to be funny, not mean.”
“Mean?”
“Cruel. A cruel joke isn’t funny.”
“You must tell me what a real joke is then.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Fred shrugged, trying to ease out of it. “I have a better idea, why don’t we go down to one of the . . .”
“Tell me one of your funny jokes or we shall see how funny it is when I pull your arms off. I suspect they will come off as easily as a spider’s legs. I will even let you document the results, as I know how important that is to you.”
Fred chuckled nervously, “See, now that would have been funny if you, you know, didn’t actually mean it.”
“Now!”
It wasn’t a shout - Illyria didn’t really shout that much, she didn’t need to -, but it turned Fred’s insides to squish all the same and she hurried to think of a joke. What a great time for her mind to be blank!
“I-uh . . .” she waved her hands around helplessly as she tried to think of any joke she had ever heard. She’d never been the class clown but surely she must have hundreds that had just washed up into her brain over the years. Illyria took a step towards her and Fred rushed out some words, just hoping they made sense. “A man walks into a bar and tells the barman he wants an alligator sandwich and he better make it snappy!”
Fred froze afterwards, waiting for the reaction. Illyria’s head tilted to the side as she regarded her. The laboratory lights made the blue streaks shine in the blonde hair.
“And then what happened?” Illyria demanded.
“Uh, nothing, that was the end of the joke.”
“So the alligator didn’t devour the sandwich-eater?”
“No!”
“He ate the barman while he was preparing the sustaining life source?”
“No! The alligator doesn’t matter, the funny bit is that . . . they like to snap and the man asked for his sandwich to be made quickly, like snappily.”
Harmony’s blue-tinged face stared at her without expression for . . . well, perhaps It could control time because it felt like eons passed. And then Illyria smiled.
Nodding at the victory, Fred smiled too. “See, it’s funny!”
Illyria’s face went back to untouchable. “I was remembering the time I saw an alligator eat an entire family of Altrusians.”
Fred’s nose and mouth wrinkled in distaste. “Oh. Anyway, that’s what a joke is. So how about we try something new today?”
“Why?”
“So we can actually get some decent observations on you instead of the same ol’ readings day after day.” Illyria gave her that head tilt again. She was like a little Blue Jay, Fred decided, with the hair and all. A tall, leather-encased, intimidating little Blue Jay. “So what do you say?”
“Will there be weapons? I like weapons. They do not try to be funny.”
Fred wasn’t sure that was a good idea, not with Illyria in this mood - not that she’d yet seen her in any other - but it was probably something Angel and the team could get useful data out of.
“Sure we can, eventually, but there’s something else I’d like to try first.”
They relocated to the Gym. It was generally for employee use only, but Fred figured nobody was gonna object. She was right, everyone - humans and demons alike - were suddenly desperate to get back to their offices when she entered with the big, blue Old One. She caught one young, fit-looking woman as she tried to rush by.
“Hey, sorry to trouble you, but can you be my test subject?”
“What? No! I mean, sorry I have a meeting with Mr. Angel.” She tried to back away.
She doubted that was true anyway, but it was the perfect excuse for her. “Oh that’s not a problem, I’ll okay it with him. I have an in with the boss,” she grinned. “All I really need you to do is the exact same exercises as Illyria and it won’t take . . .”
“Uh, I think I have a headache . . . It could be contagious, I should probably just . . .”
She might have finished the sentence, Fred couldn’t be sure with how fast she ran away.
“I guess it’s just you and me then,” she sighed as she turned to face Illyria.
The GodKing was standing in the middle of the gym equipment, looking around. “Are these insects frozen in time?”
“No.” Fred chuckled. “It’s equipment to work out on. You know, for when you want to get in better shape than you already are.”
“Real beings strive for fitness by destroying their enemies.”
“Okay, but that was back when you were an actual being, right? And not when you’re just a nasty mummy cough inhabiting Angel’s P.A.?”
“You think to mock me?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. So, shall we try the treadmill first?”
She had to demonstrate how it worked first, but as soon as Illyria stepped on there was a noticeable difference in her attitude.
“This makes me feel . . . more myself.”
Fred didn’t know what that meant yet, but she was more than happy to record it. In fact for the next two hours she recorded everything. Treadmill, rowing machine, weights, other weights. When they’d used every piece of equipment she encouraged - politely - Illyria to do jumping jacks, press ups, sit ups and pull ups.
“How do you feel?” she asked, like she had after everything as well as using her hand-held scanner to record heart-rate and blood pressure.
“I feel good. I feel . . . strong.”
“Strong enough to do it all again?”
Apparently It did and Fred grinned as she recorded all of the new data as meticulously as she had the first time. There were changes now. Blood pressure was down - not what you’d expect after a bout of heavy exercise, so that was interesting - and whatever the Old One had passing for a heart was beating very quickly. Three times the speed a human’s should even after working out, and one and half times more than it had when Illyria was just standing in her lab letting the scanner run over her.
“I think we’re really getting something here,” she said after the third round, hunched over the vaulting horse she was using as a temporary desk. “Oh!”
She hadn’t realized Illyria had come to stand so close behind her. It really was kinda remarkable that they’d been at this for nearly six hours and the Old One hadn’t even worked up a sweat. Fred had been perspiring for four of them just from watching her! She reached a hand up and out, only to remember her manners before her arm was pulled off.
“Can I touch you? Just for a second.” Illyria stared her down for long enough that Fred was about to take it back and reach for her scanner instead. And then there was a slow nod. “Thank you.”
She placed her palm on Illyria’s brow to find it burning with inner heat. On a human it would have indicated a deathly fever of some kind, but . . . Fred moved her palm down to Illyria’s cheek and then the base of her throat, all were just as hot.
“So exercise does increase your body temperature, you just don’t excrete perspiration.”
“I am a leader of worlds, not an ignoble beast.”
She wasn’t really sure what that had to with anything. Presidents and Kings sweated just the same as regular folk. And now she was caught, between writing down her new observations and continuing her physical examination while it was permitted.
She ran her hands down Illyria’s arms and frowned. It only deepened when she gently stroked over her stomach.
“Is this a human mating ritual?” Illyria asked as Fred was running a hand up the center of her chest.
The frown was blown away by a shocked gasp and a strained impulsive giggle. “No! Obviously not. I was just . . .” There was just something . . . "Look, I’m going to knock on you again, okay? With my fist, but I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Not hearing or seeing any dissent, Fred tapped her fist a few times against Illyria’s shoulder. The hard casing was definitely more malleable now. Still tough, but softer like well-worn leather. It could have been the spike in body temperature causing it or, you know, maybe the GodKing was just relaxing a little.
It was definitely worth taking note of, and she turned back to the gym horse to do just that.
"So we are not going to fornicate?”
Fred felt a blush rise in her cheek and hunched over even further. “I don’t think that would really be appropriate, do you?”
“I do not know what appropriateness has to do with it. Is it appropriate to keep someone with as much power as I cooped up in your glass rooms, to make them run endlessly with no hope of getting . . . anywhere, to try them and test them and analyze them as if they were no more than molecules bouncing around for your amusement?”
Fred had a moment of shame, but it passed. This wasn’t Illyria’s time, she shouldn’t be here. Nobody had asked for It to be shipped to Wolfram and Hart and cough up its essence on Harmony. Maybe nobody else was that bothered, life and unlife was going on as normal, but Fred cared. She and Harmony had been friends, kind of. There had been a spark of it between them anyway.
“You know what? I totally get what you’re saying. Maybe me making you jump through hoops isn’t really fair. But do you know what’s even unfairer? The girl you’re inside of now? She would love to be hanging out in the gym with me but she can’t be because when you forced your way in you pushed her out. And she didn’t deserve that. Harmony was sweet and nice, you know, for a vampire, and giving and sexy and she’d had her whole un-life ahead of her before you robbed her of that! So don’t stand there and talk to me about what’s fair or-or appropriate, because do you know what? She would have died all over again to know how good those blue streaks would look in her hair and you took that chance away from her!”
“You are angered by my words.”
“No, I’m angry with you.”
Illyria’s head tilted, bird-like again. “You had feelings for the shell.”
“Don’t call her that! And yes, I had feelings for her. That's what we humans do; we love, we hate, sometimes we desire, we feel."
"I know, you reek of it. It offends and arouses me."
Fred took a step back at that and bumped against the vaulting horse. Her clipboard hit the floor, no doubt crumpling her fragile paperwork. "What do you mean by that exactly?"
"The shell is reacting to your pheromones." Illyria was staring down at herself, her hands running curiously over the red leather moulded around her chest and thighs. "Your passionate attachment to the follies of your kind are . . . exciting it."
"Oh, I am? I mean it is? I didn't mean for that to happen." Fred tried to put more space between them, forgetting about the horse again. "But it's probably something I should write down so . . ."
Illyria's examination of Harmony's curves ended abruptly and Fred was suddenly caught by that startling blue gaze. "I wish to procreate now."
“You wish to what?” She really hoped she’d heard that wrong.
“The trials you have put me through have made me feel strong again and the musk rising from the reddening skin of your chest tells of the perfect way to make this land my own. I shall put my seeds in you and birth an army fit to conquer this world once and forever more.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“There is a problem with your aural sense. How did I not know this before?”
“Yep, that’s me. Deaf as a post. So I’m not really the most suitable person to spawn your GodPrinces after all. Also, we don’t really have the right parts for that.”
“What do you mean, parts?”
Was she really going to have to have the birds and the bees talk right now? “Well, me and that form, uh, Harmony’s form aren’t really compatible to make babies, you know?” Illyria just stared at her. “We’re both female and you kinda need different genitalia to . . . birth an army, is all I’m saying.”
Illyria seemed to understand, if her weary sigh was anything to go by. And Fred had observed it enough to conclusively say it was. “Your kind are so primitive. How do you stand it?”
“You kind of just get used to it as you grow up.”
“You shouldn’t. It makes no sense to settle for less than you can be.”
“Oh, we don’t all settle for that, but there’s no point striving for things that just can’t be, right?” she said, hopefully.
Illyria tilted her head up to stare at a corner of the ceiling. Fred waited a moment until it was clear the Old One was deep in thought and then she scurried around the exercise horse and picked up her clipboard, noting in dismay that her flimsy paperwork had folded and creased on impact with the floor.
"So anyway, where were we?”
“I have known races that can procreate with the blink of an eye, impregnate with a brush of fins, copulate with the mere entwining of limbs.”
So they were still on that. Okay. Suddenly she felt the need to rush to the defense of the human race.
“We can copulate. I mean, two women can copulate. We’re not that backward.” Illyria was eyeing her with interest again. “But we can’t make spawn by doing it!”
“Are you convinced of this?”
“Yes!”
“But I am a GodKing, perhaps your rules of procreation do not apply to me.”
“I’m pretty sure they do,” Fred insisted, squeakily. A moment ago she’d felt safer with the horse as a barrier between them, but now Illyria was staring at her again with those bright, unfathomable eyes. “I think, anyway.”
“You are a Scientist,” Illyria spat the word at her, which should have done nothing to make this conversation any more appealing. “If I understand this term correctly, should you not wish to experiment?”
It was Fred’s turn for her head to tilt contemplatively. Yearning for knowledge was kind of her thing, and there was no way anyone could ever try and steal it from her this time. And she was pretty sure she couldn’t really get impregnated by the Old One.
Pretty sure wasn’t totally sure, though.
“Have you ever created a child though your eyes, fins or by entwining your limbs?” She readied her crumpled clipboard to record the answer.
“No. My offspring cover galaxies far and wide, all created within the burst of a star as it left my fingertips.”
Okay, so that was inconclusive. As lovely as it sounded to be a star-burst, Fred was happier not having one burst through her, or out of her.
“Okay, so we’ll put us having sex on the back-burner for now, until I’ve had time to look into it a little more.”
“Why?”
“As a scientist it’s important for me to fully research it. You understand.”
“I do not! I have . . . pent up energy! What am I to do with it? This feeling, it overtakes me. Makes me feel . . . raw and open. I will not be left to suffer in this way, I must have an outlet . . . Your . . . your clipboard it . . . it offends me! Make this feeling go away or . . . or . . .”
Uneasiness was taking Fred over until she had an idea. “You’re going to be fine. Let me introduce you to Angel’s weapon cupboard and call Spike down here.”
“The half-breed is not as appealing a mate as you!”
It was ridiculous but Fred blushed. “So don’t have sex with him, just . . . fight out your urges.”
“And we shall meet another time? To gather this information. You make a promise of that?”
Yep, they’d be meeting again tomorrow for another round of all of this. To record more stats, more data, more observations, but she didn’t think Illyria meant that. Her mind was still on copulation.
“Yes, we’ll meet another time,” Fred promised with a smile.
After all, she was a scientist.