Discovery - Part IV (Patreon)

The only obstacle in the routine was its longevity, the sole factor that tested Duval’s will power to accomplish the task that day, no delays. Retrieve a subject, escort to her office, physical check-up, mental health interview, return to the terrarium, repeat. It was plain and simple, but when cycled over the course of forty subjects and each session lasting roughly ten minutes per person, the hours dragged on until collapsing from boredom was a real threat. The mess such an incident would make was worth fearing, at least from the perspectives of her shrunken subjects.

A hardy yawn concluded, dispelling more of what little spirit Duval had left. She groaned into her complaint, but she would not say it aloud, that once upon a time, this job was promised to be exciting and lively. Shoote Labs was on the forefront of amazing scientific advances, the envy of every aspiring scientist looking to break into radical new fields of research -- for a cost. Duval had been bought in, but the glamor that was proposed to her had faded over the years. The opportunity to work with shrunken people and to explore the benefits of that lifestyle were appealing when presented in a company theater highlighting the best and grandest qualities of the project. Yet, it was only earlier that year that Duval was actually working with shrunken subjects, and beyond the initial shock and awe, the job had only grown tedious and mundane.

Shrunken people, Duval had learned, were no different from regular people. Their lives were curated to be stress-free, and so everyday was another moment in paradise, as far as she was concerned. Tests and other experiments would occasionally provide peeks towards the destination Shoote Labs aimed for, but her career was far from shattering the world like she had hoped. Duval followed the motions of her job and applied herself as loyally as ever, but very little sparked that fiery curiosity she once had to unravel a mystery that eluded her.

“... and so that’s why I think I haven’t been drinking enough water,” Kendall said, wrapping up a long ramble she had spilled to Duval when asked about her health. “But at the same time, I feel like I’m drinking too much.”

“Mhmm…” Duval replied with a dull nod. Her eyes were not aimed down at her desk, not where a tiny human talked to her from, but were instead at her monitor, dully skimming a spreadsheet of data in order to find the next name on the list.

“They say you can never have too much water,” Kendall chuckled, “but then tell that to someone who’s drowning.”

“Mhmm… Yeah…”

“When I was a kid, my uncle almost drowned in a river accident. It’s not like how it appears in the movies--”

Duval’s hand dropped onto the desk with a bang, falling from where it had supported her chin against fatigue. The weight of her hand striking the counter was enough to bounce Kendall into the air, a shock so sudden that she landed perfectly back on her feet. Duval’s patience had faltered, she could withstand the conversation no longer with how boring it was -- but her expression had quickly shifted to that of an apology, admitting to a mistake. Duval was flustered by her act, while Kendall was startled stiff, her hands tightly clamped in front of her chest.

“I-I’m sorry, m-my hand slipped!” Duval explained, taking the hand in question away. “I-I didn’t mean to slam it like that! Are, err, you okay? Kendall?”

Kendall choked up the courage to speak up, still shaken by the quake that had run through the desk. “Yeah, y-yes,” she replied, “I’m fine… J-Just a bit loud. Haha…”

“Hah… Yes…” Duval swallowed and nervously scratched at her neck, pursuing some sort of distraction. She bit her lip, annoyed with herself -- I can’t be this careless, she told herself, no matter how tired I get. Every little thing I do…

That phrase echoed in Duval’s mind, stirring memories of when she first accepted the project. It was a warning, one she took to heart right away. Her heart felt hollow after what her minor slip had caused, spooking Kendall so terribly. She wanted to offer her hands as comfort, to act as a reassuring shield or offer some support to lean on, but she hesitated when she tried, deciding instead to grab something else. It was a pod, about the size and shape of a golf ball, the transparency of which allowed view of a singular seat and its many buckles and straps. It was the single-person transportation device designed for moving individual shrunken subjects. It had been used to bring Kendall into the office, and it would be used to see her out, like all the others.

“Well, I… I think that wraps up everything,” Duval chuckled, trying to hurry the interview along by setting the device up to Kendall. Opening the landing legs to stabilize the pod and then undoing the front hatch was like operating a plastic toy, but the device was undoubtedly more than that to Kendall. “I appreciate the cooperation. I can’t go into details right now, but the results will determine if you get accepted into a series of future tests. I’ll let you know if you’ve been selected, of course~”

Kendall entered the pod and began strapping herself in. “Sure, but, should I drink more or less water?”

Duval withheld a sigh. “... Just drink if you’re thirsty.” Leaving no room for a reply, Duval closed the hatch shut. After Kendall was fully buckled in, Duval lifted the pod and held it steady in front of her abdomen with both hands. She exited her office with an inhale; she needed the energy to last her for just a few more interviews, but there was something to look forward to. If nothing else, interviewing Sierra would provide a change of pace from the monotonous conveyor belt routine.

The terrarium felt different when Duval looked over the miniature neighborhood, expecting not just any shrunken person, but Sierra specifically. She found her in the center of the community, awaiting to be escorted next after Kendall. Duval smiled upon seeing her, uplifted from her work-induced slump and presenting herself more brightly to any other subjects that were out and about. Sierra could be pointed out from the other tiny faces, not because she stood out from a crowd -- she was actually quite plain-looking -- but because of Duval’s familiarity with her.

Duval blinked, having said nothing once reaching the caged community. Kendall had become a blank in her mind until that moment, where she then rushed to move the procedure along. “Sierra! You’re next,” she greeted, recovering some of her professional aura. The pod was quickly put down inside so that Kendall could depart, leaving the hatch open for Sierra nearby. “Do you need any help getting in?”

Sierra shook her head wide enough for the gesture to be seen, though Duval was especially perceptive, able to glimpse a small smile from the subject. “I’m totally fine now,” Sierra called up, taking the first step into the pod. Before hunching forward to settle into the leather seat, she first stretched and flexed her arm for Duval to witness, the same arm that had been injured weeks ago. “I’ve almost forgotten I ever hurt it in the first place. It’s no trouble now.”

Duval giggled at Sierra’s arm curls. “Whoaaa,” she calmly exclaimed, “you should warn someone before pulling out a gun!” Sierra shared the amusement with a laugh of her own as she finished strapping herself in. A tiny thumbs-up confirmed she was ready for lift-off, and so Duval closed the hatch with a finger and scooped the pod into her gloved hand. The initial rise out of the neighborhood was steady and straight like an elevator, but the experience was its own as soon as horizontal movement began, with Duval turning away to leave for her office.

As a precaution, the pod was enveloped by both hands as Duval trekked through the empty halls of Shoote Labs. It was a safety measure that left Sierra, or any occupant, surrounded in darkness until their destination was reached, and Duval disagreed that it was necessary. She chose to smudge her memory and bring the pod up to eye level as she walked, unveiling the rider when her left hand was removed.

Sierra was blinded by the light and Duval’s huge face, welcomed by a smile that widened with her surprised reaction. “Duval?” she asked, her fists clenching at the belts over her shoulders. “Um… hi?”

Duval giggled, feeling silly then for peering into the pod. “I thought you might enjoy some light,” she explained. “I won’t drop you, don’t worry!”

Sierra nonetheless nervously chuckled. “I didn’t think you would,” she replied, “until you… said that.” She craned her neck forward as to gaze down the bottom of the pod, past its clear shell and down to the floor. Duval’s steps thundered down below across a tiled plain that sped past like a stream.

It was easy for Duval to read that worried expression. “It would take a real miracle for you to get hurt in there,” she said, her words hinted with some pride. “These pods are designed to withstand an eight-foot drop without injuring anyone inside. It would take at least three-hundred pounds of weight to break it open, too.”

“Oh… Good,” Sierra acknowledged, yet her tone quaked. “That’s… better than if I fell without it. I’d probably still get bounced around, though.”

“Mm, probably~” The humor Duval found was lost on Sierra, a difference in their perspectives. Duval trusted Shoote technology, but the same could not be said of the shrunken woman making use of the product. She had to admit, however, that such security was not meant to be tested; though the body inside added almost no weight, the pod had become heavier by the time she arrived at her office.

The physical examination was underway soon after Sierra was released from the pod. The usual measurements were taken, putting the shrunken woman under a modified microscope for the utmost accuracy. Duval checked her heart rate and breathing, both before and after a minute-long jog on a tiny treadmill. The entire process went by smoothly, due in part to their familiarity with these personalized procedures. Amidst their casual conversation, Duval remarked on their check-ups from the past, when Sierra’s arm was still healing, to which Sierra replied that she had been thinking exactly the same.

Duval inputted the results onto her computer, updating a list of statistics that had been tracked since the test began. Reading Sierra’s extensive list of updates carried Duval through time, recollecting those check-ups and how far Sierra had come. Some harsh memories clashed with the good, a few careless mistakes that had not been repeated since, but her experiences shared with Sierra had developed a bond that she couldn’t simply ignore.

Studying the spreadsheet, however, had alerted Duval of a conundrum. It was an obscure problem hidden behind a horizon, but that distance veiled the issue and its potential. Her once elated expression to have Sierra nearby had soured into a serious stare, realizing that the numbers of the physical report were not averaging out how she had hoped.

The weight of little eyes focused on her was enough to pull Duval out of her trance. She glanced down for the first time in a minute, noticing that Sierra was staring hard up at her. “Oh! Y-Yes, sorry I-- I got… distracted.”

Sierra offered a smile, but her concern had not been entirely cleansed. “I can tell. Is everything okay?” she wondered, leaning onto the upper edge of Duval’s keyboard. “It isn’t-- Is it my results? From the exam just now? They weren’t low, were they?”

Duval started to nod, but then shook her head with a bitten lip. “S-Sort of, no…” It was difficult to explain, a matter that was meant to stay secret for the sake of genuine results. The uncomfortable future ahead should have been accepted as reality if true, but when such a tiny face filled with so much worry was perched at her keyboard, Duval hesitated to leave her questions unresolved. For now, some explanation would have to leak, “This data is being collected for a selection process. If you’re not eligible, well… nothing really changes. You’d stay here, while I… go away. F-For just awhile.”

Sierra flinched underneath Duval’s discontent smile. “Ah, I… I see, but… where are you going?” She laughed, thinking that a detail too important to skip, but her fingers tapped along the keyboard anxiously. “And for how long?”

“I-It would take about a week,” Duval answered, beginning with the easiest question. What else Sierra had inquired of, however, was what she had hoped wouldn’t be asked. She twiddled with a thread of hair, her gaze drifting back towards the numbers on screen. “We’ll be going-- err, I’ll be going to a conference, to showcase how far the experiment has advanced, alongside other Shoote scientists. We’re looking to bring subjects that are both ideal to display and capable of traveling out of state.”

The smile Duval had developed was hidden behind a hand, ashamed to feel optimistic about the upcoming event while breaking the news to Sierra. However, Sierra’s response was unabashed cheer; “That’s exciting! This whole project-thing is really moving along! And you’re going to be presenting it?”

Duval chuckled, “N-No! I’ll just be aiding things mostly. But, I will have to stand in front of a lot of people -- a lot of important people. Top-level scientists and huge investors, cherry-picked for a special presentation about shrinking people and the subsequent lifestyle. Every single word said on stage can mean a difference of millions of dollars in funding…”

“That’s… stressful,” Sierra said plainly, still reckoning with such a dense explanation.

“Fortunately, it won’t all be serious business,” Duval continued. “The venue is a massive hotel. There’s going to be parties all throughout the event, so I’ll have a few opportunities to relax a little. I’m worried I might have too much fun, knowing how I am…”

Sierra giggled, though she restrained her volume as to not come off as mocking. Of course she remembered the combination of Duval and alcohol. “Sounds fancy,” she commented. “What about, uh… the others? The subjects, I mean. What would we-- er, they be doing?”

“... Not much,” Duval admitted with a slight shrug. “Besides the presentation itself, you all would most likely be kept sealed in a vault. Somewhere safe, but cozy! Probably another terrarium in another miniature neighborhood.” Though the details were lackluster, Duval pushed for the positives. “You’d get to travel, though! I can’t imagine you all enjoy being cooped up in the same place, doing the same things, everyday.” She glanced at the windowless walls of her office, cramped with what little furniture she could afford to fit in. “I would want a change of pace at some point, at least.”

Sierra’s shoulders fell until her hands slipped off the keyboard’s edge. “I guess that’s all,” she said. “I suppose that makes sense, there isn’t much for shrunken people to do at a hotel.”

Duval swallowed, withdrawing any more negative details of the experience. “Y-You also get to be with… me,” she added. “It’s a week I’d be gone, and maybe more, too. Someone else would take over as overseer, of course, b-but… I’m the best overseer, aren’t I?” She smiled cockily, emphasizing her exaggeration. “No one else runs this show quite like I do.”

Sierra was warmed into laughter, but was still burdened by these facts. Duval strongly sympathized, not wanting to leave Sierra -- It’s just a week, she told herself, and then you’d return home to everyone. Yet, the prospect of “everyone” did not lighten her thoughts, not the same way it meant to return for Sierra’s sake.

Sierra backed away from the keyboard, forcing up a smile. “You definitely deserve a break, Duval,” she said, “even if you’ll technically still be working. Besides, I shouldn’t get my hopes up. After all…” She looked up to the monitor, which hung overhead like a jumbo television in a bustling city. Though the numbers were unclear to her from her perspective, she could imagine the lackluster scores of her results, and how that tarnished her chances of traveling.

Duval frowned as she studied the spreadsheet, leaning onto her desk with her elbows. “Well, you’re not totally out of the running, you know,” she said. “Even with your, uh, low performance, you could get selected if you’re deemed well enough to travel. That’s what the mental health interview is conducted to check. The… interview that we haven’t done, yet.”

Sierra was back to leaning on the keyboard, drawn towards the implication she heard. “And… I assume you weren’t supposed to tell me that…?”

Duval bit her lip. She shook her head, fighting back a smile as she clicked open a window. “But… we intend to answer honestly… right?” Duval winked, stoking the hope within Sierra. “So! Um… Question one! … Have you ever suffered from motion sickness before being shrunk?”

Sierra’s smile slowly spread to each cheek. She scoffed lightly, then composed herself for a very serious and real answer, “Never.”

The interview then progressed, but not without bouts of laughter shared in between each question. The process was irrecoverably untangled, neither party able to take the interview seriously. Sierra met every question with the best possible reply, so on the nose that Duval had to tone down the responses, afraid her supervisor could become suspicious. Though they could laugh about it now, Duval knew deep down how serious of an offense this was to the company’s integrity. She risked severe punishment for staggering the results and potentially jeopardizing the upcoming showcase -- only the most capable subjects were to be selected, not Duval’s favorites.

And that is what Sierra was to Duval -- a favorite. She could no longer deny that among all the shrunken subjects under her domain, this one woman ignited a unique flare of her curiosity. She was reminded of that particular check-up, a mishap of an evening where she arrived drunk to the meeting. In the daze it all had been, the emotional impact still lingered, so many thoughts admitted while so many others pushed away. It was to maintain the proper, clean relationship between researcher and subject -- sterile. It was supposed to feel flat, there was never supposed to be a spark of any kind. A job, nothing else.

That two-dimensional life, Duval realized, was not what she had dreamed of having. Science was an adventure of discoveries, and her spirit yearned to voyage past these barriers. Sierra, a tiny being that could confess to such wild passions, had inspired Duval to loosen the collar on her neck -- where it wouldn’t hurt anyone, at least.

“”There’s something quite interesting I could show you,” Duval said. “I shouldn’t… but I could…”

The interview had reached its biased conclusion. Both were assured that Sierra had a fair chance now at being selected, and in the aftermath of the interview, calm conversation took over. Duval’s proposal, purposefully meant to intrigue her, had overtaken the topic Sierra was last on. “... Oh?” Sierra giggled, “Are you going to tell me more? Or, should you not?”

Duval stifled a giggle so she could explain, “It has to do with the showcase, and something our engineers have prepared. It’s… cute. I think it’s cute.”

“What is it?” Sierra laughed. “Now I really want to know. It isn’t embarrassing, is it?”

“Well… I’m sure you can guess that all of the model furniture and things have to come from somewhere. That’s a lot of what our engineers do. For this showcase, we had a lot of tiny things made to impress investors with -- so we made a model city.”

Sierra shook her head in disbelief. “A-An entire shrunken city?”

“Hah~ Well, it’s very bare bones at the moment. A lot of props and stand-ins. None of the buildings are furnished, nothing has even been painted yet, last I saw. It won’t matter, they’re just for stage dressing. Everyone will be focused on where the actual shrunken people are. Very focused…”

A shiver fell from these words and passed onto Sierra. “How is that going to work? Are investors just going to walk around us on the floor?”

“No, no. It’s all very safe.” Duval rose from her chair and donned her white lab coat. She then rolled the transportation pod along her desk until it was rightside-up and available for Sierra. Her giddiness could hardly be contained, but she limited herself to a whisper, “Get on in and I’ll show you. We’ll be quick -- we have to be.”

Sierra was swiftly situated into the pod and taken into Duval’s hands. Through the first few halls, the same stature and balance was used by Duval as usual, maintaining a safe two-handed grip around the orb. Once reaching an intersection in the quiet halls, however, a different type of caution had to be practiced. A peek around the corner confirmed a distant gathering of colleagues that stood between her and the scale model studio.

Duval sighed as she slumped back against the wall, bringing Sierra closer to her face in order to speak in whisper. “I’m going to have to hide you for a minute or two. D-Don’t worry too much, okay?”

“Y-Y-Yeah…” Sierra replied, her voice shaking -- the whole pod shook, grasped by an unsteady hand that quaked in anticipation. “Y-You should-dn’t… w-worry either...”

“Eek. Sorry…” Duval dismissed the matter by pocketing Sierra’s pod. The shrunken woman was hidden inside an inner-pocket of Duval’s coat, stowing her away from any onlookers. There was more than one page in the handler’s manual for the pod detailing why not to do this, but it was too convenient to ignore. Sierra would get jostled around, Duval knew, but she would be safe the entire time.

Moving forward with a professional presentation, Duval strolled right past her colleagues, acknowledged by no more than a few nods and smiles. Despite the calm and casual environment, her heart was racing. It felt as though she was carrying an anchor chained to her back and that everyone miraculously avoided comment. There was a living human on her person, being smuggled across the building in just a pocket, which had earned several nervous glances from Duval herself. It all felt obvious to her that she was doing something wrong, that she was putting a shrunken person in danger just for the thrill of breaking rules.

Just as sweat dotted her brow, Duval reached the studio doors. A swipe of her security card granted her access inside, and she hastily slipped in, closing the door as quietly as possible behind her. She was relieved, but now warmer than ever. The studio ahead was built like a wide open garage, and so the air was stiff and heavy. As she continued through an aisle of tools and blueprints, she tugged up on the collar of her coat, exhausting some of the heat built up under the layer.

Once the landscape was in view, Duval decided then to retrieve Sierra. She dug into her pocket and plucked the pod out, but upon seeing Sierra, her eager smile faded to concern. Sierra was drenched in sweat and panting for air; she had been overheated being inside Duval’s coat. Duval stuttered up an apology while hurrying to open the hatch.

After getting unbuckled, Sierra stumbled out of the pod and into Duval’s hand. The tender ground tripped her to her knees, but it was a soft landing. “Oh, god,” Sierra groaned, swiping a layer of sweat off her brow, “that was… toasty…”

“I bet it was,” Duval winced, quietly stashing the pod back into the pocket. She loomed over the woman held in both hands, “I-I didn’t imagine it would get so warm, I was thinking too fast…”

Sierra sighed into a smile, shrugging the issue aside. “I’m… I’m fine. Really. A-Are we, uh, there?” Her head raised, trying to peer past Duval’s body and to the rest of the large chamber. “I want to see what you’re so excited to show off.”

Duval’s smile returned, inspired by Sierra’s interest, but that brought new worries. “I hope I didn’t overhype this for you,” she giggled. “Perhaps I’m just the easily excited type, but… just look at this. Isn’t it grand?”

Sierra’s eyes widened with awe as Duval turned her towards the studio’s contents. Encompassing several meters of floor space was a model city, or at least all the parts to make one. Several rows of buildings with various designs and intents were in the midst of construction, only a fraction of which were in a finished state. A few buildings were colored, but many remained a blank white, like towers of canvases waiting to be used. Instead of streets, there were uneven and disjointed spaces dividing structures into blocks, and instead of vehicles,, there were leftover tools and pieces scattered throughout.

Yet despite the evidence that this was fake, the initial image struck Sierra like a genuine vista. “There’s… so much detail,” she said, seated towards the end of Duval’s hand. “It’s like… like, well, a city. This is kind of unreal.”

“It’s a big jump up from your neighborhood, isn’t it?” Duval chuckled, ignoring the cityscape in favor of admiring Sierra’s fascination. A couple strides took her to the model city’s territory, and one more saw her congesting a theoretical highway with her heels. None of the buildings made it far above her waist, but the scale of everything was more impressive than the terrarium community she was used to watching over. Only here could she stand at “ground level” with tiny society, truly towering over her surroundings, but she had never felt big around the models before. Rather, her perspective saw them as the miniatures they were, effectively toys being built up in a garage.

But as she continued into the center of the so-called city, that exact feeling began to sink. Duval’s feet raised off the floor more carefully, stepping down only where she could confirm the space for herself. She leaned away from the buildings as she crossed through narrow passes, afraid of what damages she could cause. Every movement felt wider and clumsier, a sensation that never before plagued her when viewing the model city. Of course, this was not an ordinary visit to the studio. Her heart was still racing from the excitement of coming here -- Did Sierra hear that? she wondered, remembering how close Sierra had been to her chest moments ago.

As small as the city felt to Duval, it naturally felt more momentous to Sierra being carried high over the roofs, as if soaring over a skyline from a helicopter. Comparing the heights of the buildings to that of Duval proved just how staggering the proportions between them were; Duval was effectively a giant, genuinely concerned that a misstep could flatten something precious. The illusion only ended when looking too far into the studio, or when glancing past an oversized screwdriver.

The awe had brought a silence in the conversation that Duval would eventually break. “Very realistic, right?” she asked, standing over one of the more completed structures. It was tens of storeys tall, but its sharp roof only went as high as Duval’s hips. She knelt down in front of it and brought her hand up to one of the windowed walls, allowing Sierra to gaze inside. “Probably not much to see,” she admitted accurately. Without lights, or any electricity for that matter, every floor was submerged in shadows. Not a single piece of furniture occupied the empty rooms, resulting in an eerie stillness.

Yet even this impressed Sierra, who peered into a few floors, admiring the attention to design. “I can imagine it being… livelier,” she agreed. “Lots of people bustling in the halls… An office that an employee decorated… I can picture it. But, these are just props, aren’t they?”

Duval chuckled, stirring windy huffs that blew around Sierra. She looked to the side, towards another corner of the city. “Maybe one day they’ll be put to use,” she said, her body shifting to rise away from the building. “For now, all we have ready is, well… heh…”

Sierra turned and looked up at Duval. “Heh?”

“Hah, I’m too excited~ Let me show you, b-but promise not to tell anyone.” Nearly forgetting to be cautious, Duval hustled over to another block of buildings. There was a cylindrical tower in particular that was unlike the others, found in the heart of the model. Of its neighbors, this building was one of the tallest, its flat and circular roof stopping at Duval’s belt. It was not on display, but draped over completely by a dark sheet. Sierra had passively mistaken it as a genuine building still under construction, but Duval’s eager tone hinted that it was more than just another prop.

“So, what makes this building special?” Sierra asked, still studying the structure. “No more teasing,” she giggled, “show me what it is.”

“Alright… but,” Duval began, then squatted down to the floor. She cupped a hand over Sierra as she lowered her to the ground, not without ignoring the nervous fidgeting she felt in her palm. When Sierra was released onto the floor, she stood at the base of the blanketed building, its height given new respect from this humbled perspective. Sierra turned quickly towards Duval, a titan even more worthy of respect, but a reassuring smile from above eased her nerves. “This is the grand debut, after all! I want you to see it like the others will, eventually.”

Sierra was confused, but ultimately entertained by everything, and everyone, that towered over her. She readied herself, facing the building again. “Sure. Take it away.”

Duval leaked with giggles as she stepped around Sierra and onto the other side of the building, her eyes locked onto the tiny dot of a person she had willingly left on the floor. Excitement was overflowing as she grabbed two folds of the curtain and whipped it aside. “Ta-da-- ahhg!” In her carelessness, the tower she had just revealed wobbled in its place, where any real building would have totally collapsed. In any case, Sierra had cowered backwards and fallen from the shaking, though the building was unharmed and stable. “Heh heh… T-Ta-da!”

Once recovered from the scare, Sierra absorbed the unveiled creation. Amidst a city of clean whites in a studio of dull grays stood a bright contrast. The cylindrical tower was like a beacon of color with its tall, encompassing windows all tinted a different vibrant color. There were eight distinct floors, not including a base and roof that were both thick enough to be floors themselves, and each floor was its own room -- no walls, other than the central spire that several elevators ran through. Combined with the wall-sized windows and tall ceilings, everything within the building was easy to locate and observe, from a normal-sized perspective.

Duval waved a hand down the front of the building, presenting it with another flair. She studied Sierra’s reaction, though it was hard to perceive a tiny body and its gestures from such a distance. “I present to you, the Rook!” she announced, leaning to one side of the structure so she could admire its front with Sierra. “This is the most complete building for shrunken people we’ve developed yet. The engineers are quite proud of it!”

Sierra was baffled by what was revealed. It was far beyond the quality of the other buildings in every regard, and unlike any normal building she had seen before. Nonetheless, it felt very real, as though she were on the sidewalk looking up at a fanciful, modern-edge skyscraper. Yet even more wild than that was Duval standing behind this piece of work, her height far outreaching that of what she was showing off. Had Sierra been able to speak to Duval at such a range, she would have lacked the words to say anything at all.

“It’s more than just a model of a fancy building,” Duval explained, keeping a hand atop its roof as if keeping it on a leash. The toe of her iconic heels tapped against the black base, bringing Sierra’s attention to it. “It has wheels, so it can be moved around! That’s why they named it the rook. They. Not my suggestion.” She then knelt down by the Rook’s flank, pointing at the different segments stacked on top of each other. “At the showcase, our tiny subjects will all be in here while one of us moves it across a show floor. Investors will be able to look inside from just about any angle, and see for themselves what shrunken life is like!

“So… do you wanna go in?” Duval skipped to the point, pushed by adrenaline. As much as she wanted to be quick inside the studio, she could not resist pushing the limits of these risks even further. “Check it out! There’s an entrance in front of you, it will take you to the central elevator.”

There was a delay before Sierra moved, leaving Duval in suspense that all this was not as impressive to her as she had assumed. Her worries, however, were proven wrong when Sierra approached the base, albeit tepidly. Duval’s smile arced wider as she watched the tiny person below enter the Rook, disappearing from sight. She then twisted around the tower until she was at its front and seated on her knees. She waited for movement -- then, an elevator rose from the bottom floor, slowly ascending to its first stop. The doors slid open, and out stepped Sierra, entering a wide room that circled around her. Everything inside was cast in a pleasant blue shade, including Sierra herself, just like the tinted window that enclosed her.

Past the unique coloring was even more to take in. The floor was decorated like a gym, equipped with training weights, treadmills, and aerobic balls, along with a whole stock of devices Sierra could not immediately recognize. Although it was not what she had anticipated, she did appreciate having a new location to explore, fitted for her size. The array of fitness materials was all intriguing, but most interesting to Sierra was what lingered outside. Straight ahead of her and past the blue window were two giant legs bunkered onto their knees. It was obviously Duval that she stared at, made especially clear when her face ducked into view.

“Hello!” Duval waved with her fingers, her face close enough to fog the glass with her breaths. “Look at you, huh! You fit right in!”

Sierra’s arms joined together at her front as she replied with a nod. “I do, but… what is this exactly? A gym?”

“A gym-- yep, a gym!” Duval swallowed -- perhaps, she thought, this was not the best floor for introducing Sierra to the Rook. “This floor is supposed to showcase fitness and health. We’ll have a few subjects in here using the equipment like it was all normal. That’s the idea behind all the floors, offering different glimpses into everyday-tiny life. While you guys are doing that, we’ll be moving the Rook around, just like…” To demonstrate, Duval gently grabbed two sides of the tower and began shifting it across the floor. The wheels allowed it to glide smoothly for a quarter-rotation before coming to an end, “... this!”

Despite the tender attention to move the Rook carefully, Sierra still managed to trip as the world around her moved in an unnatural way. Her eyes were fixated on Duval as a point of reference, who stood outside like an unmoving pillar. The sensation quickly became dizzying, and Sierra swayed too far to the side she was rotated away from, eventually tumbling onto her side. Duval reacted immediately with a concerned gasp, but Sierra was unharmed, soon to be back on her feet.

“Y-You’ll get used to that,” Duval promised. “There’s going to be some practice sessions in the days before the showcase…”

Sierra tidied her attire as she regained composure. Though so much of her surroundings were mundane, there was never a moment she felt truly escaped from being small. It did not help that a giant was sitting right outside, peeking into the room, which brought to Sierra an interesting concern. “If this is the bottom floor, basically… how will investors see what’s happening?” She grimaced at the theoretical concept of being this low to the ground, watching boat-sized shoes thunder about outside.

“Oh! Right! There’s a feature for that,” Duval chuckled, rising away from the blue-shaded fitness floor. “The boys in the engineer lab think of everything. Err, g-get ready! It’s gonna move again!”

To continue operating the Rook, Duval stood back up and hunched over the building’s roof. Atop it was a panel of simple buttons, and with the press of one, the tower began to change. Sierra was warned well to prepare for movement, but the motion this time was vertical. The floor under Sierra rose towards her, forcing her knees to buckle. As if she were in an elevator, the entire floor was rising upwards -- all of the Rook was, expanding higher with all its floors stacked. The ascent stopped at its upper-limit, allowing Sierra to look up comfortably from her seat. Dead ahead was the black of Duval’s slacks, her hip arced towards the window as she finished using the panel.

Duval backed up from the elongated Rook, gesturing out to her sides for Sierra to view. The cityscape the small woman was once among the streets of was now leveled to her, even in height with the tallest buildings. Sierra awed at the scene, pressing against the glass and walking along its curve to enjoy this superior angle. Duval knelt slightly, keeping dark hairs out from her face as she peered into the fitness floor, ever curious of Sierra’s reactions.

“The whole tower is now taller,” Duval explained, filling in the silence. “You can’t really tell, but it’s about as tall as I am. We can adjust the height to whatever fits the moment. We can also…” She leaned back in, tapping at the panel a few more times. The fitness floor shook, then began to sink alone, disconnected from the other floors. “... do this. See? We’ll be up on a stage for some of it, so we can choose on the spot which floors we want to have visible, and to who.”

Sierra was tickled by the experience, but all the movement left her uneasy and leaned against the window. “This is so… weird,” she stated. “It feels so much like an actual building, and then it starts moving… It’s kind of scary…” Sierra scoffed amusedly; she was frightened by an elevator, but not by the giant scientist standing outside. She realized, however, that at the day of presentation, it would be much more than just her trusted overseer rumbling around this peculiar structure. “I suppose that’s the… least scary thing about this, though…”

“Ohh, no! Don’t be worried about a thing! You’re going to be very safe in there, i-it will feel like nothing, i-ideally...” Duval assured her, touching the glass where Sierra stood as if to console her. She so despised the idea of someone so small being overwhelmed and fatigued over this exhibition, but especially so when represented with Sierra. Worse still was what little she could promise, only ideals and hypotheticals. “Once we practice a few times, you’ll have the hang of it...”

“Ophelia?” It felt like a siren to hear a woman’s voice be added into the studio, chiming in from behind Duval. She recognized who spoke to her immediately -- everyone in the labs was familiar with Ericka Slate, one of three project supervisors with a level of authority just underneath that of the director. A chill stabbed Duval in the back, but the tone itself was mild and stable. “Ah, you are here. That’s what the others said, but I wondered why you would be.”

Duval sprung up from where she had been squatting next to the Rook, her jump so sudden that she had to lean on the building for support. “Er-Ericka!” she greeted, her fluster hidden only by the distance between them. With her body and drape-like coat, she kept the Rook blocked from sight -- a tactic she knew would not last as her supervisor approached, weaving through the various prop buildings.

Duval’s heart drummed madly in the face of this worst-case scenario; how was she supposed to hide Sierra? How could she possibly retrieve her from inside without drawing suspicion? I’m going to get fired, Duval panicked, her teeth tightly clenched. There’s no way around it. She’s gonna find out. This is it… The last time I’ll ever see Sierra…

“What’s brought you in here? The Rook?” Ericka asked, idly moving aside any of the structures that were in her path. Both her touch and stride were supremely confident, so familiar with the world that she keenly oversaw. Ericka was a reliable leader that maintained a productive work environment, a feat accomplished with a delicate but precise mixture of unflinching authority and sincere friendliness. She was only a few years older than Duval, but her experiences were far-reaching, a level of wisdom that could be gleaned from unwavering amber eyes. Wearing the same style of lab coat as Duval made two appear similar, though Ericka’s crimson-dyed short-cut hair told them apart distinctly. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, yes! Yes, n-not really,” Duval buzzed in reply, her back still turned to Ericka, just as she still had no idea how to free Sierra. Worse yet, she worried what Sierra thought about this intrusion. Was she freaking out? Was she trying to run away? Maybe they could sneak free from this -- Duval would have to play cleverly, but she had to try. “Err, j-just checking it out, th-the Rook… I haven’t, erm, seen it updated since… awhile…”

“It’s coming along, isn’t it?” Ericka smiled proudly, though she merely glanced up at Duval and the Rook, her focus tied down to a tablet she walked about with. “I heard you say you were practicing, or something?”

“Y-You heard me-- oh,” Duval sputtered into a cough-like chuckle, “w-was I… talking to myself…?”

“Yep,” Ericka nodded. “We all do. It’s the stress.”

“... Do we?” Duval blinked. “... We do. Err, yeah, I just was… practicing for the showcase. Getting familiar with how it works. Heh, i-in fact, uh…” While she had the chance, Duval tapped quickly at the top console, configuring the Rook to compact its height back to default. Shrinking it back down would make it easier to hide Sierra, but it also inspired a plan to sneak her out of the studio. “Yep, that makes it go down. Simple enough, r-right?”

“Indeed. I’m sure you’ll have it figured out by the time the event comes,” Ericka said, bypassing a wide lowriser by stepping over its roof. To Duval’s dismay, she now stood in the same oval clearing her and the Rook were in. “Which brings me to why I wanted to find you. Have you concluded your interviews yet?”

Duval dug into a coat pocket before turning around to face Ericka. She kept the backside of her legs pressed against the windows, keeping the inside hidden. She paused, rewinding the conversation so she could reply. “Um… not yet. I-I’m working on them-- was, rather. Err, then I came into here-- I-I’m almost done! I’ll email you the results, um…” She bit her lip before taking the first step of her plan. “I’ll… get to the bottom of it.”

“I… imagine you will,” Ericka giggled. “You never disappoint me. Or, anyone. Have you ever missed a deadline?”

“No, I-I don’t think I ever have, not at Shoote…” Duval swallowed; Ericka had moved even closer, pressing her to hide even more of the Rook behind her. “You know me, heh. I… I always get to the bottom of… things.” Quietly, Duval kicked her heel into the bottom level, emphasizing her code.

Ericka’s nose went into her tablet, but a few concerned glances studied Duval from over its edge. “... Of course,” she muttered. “Well, I had a few questions about the subjects I wanted to discuss now rather than later. Did you read the addendum to last week’s health policy?”

“I definitely did,” Duval answered, her reply whipped up as a reaction to keep Ericka suitably distracted. Leaning back against the Rook, Duval paid close attention to the most minute vibration that traveled through its center and to the roof of the structure. It was the tiny elevator at its core that she felt for its subtle mechanical life, the only sign she had of Sierra following her coded command. All of this was escalating the very real danger Duval herself had put her in, but there was no other way to retrieve Sierra without having her exit on the studio floor. In the suspense of waiting for the elevator’s descent, Duval boiled in her regret for ever stepping out of line -- greater than just her career, a human life was in peril.

The vibration ceased, and as relieved as this made Duval, she was burdened with anxiety over the next step. So much relied on this gamble, an almost literal roll of the dice. “Right, that’s what I submitted,” Duval responded to one of Ericka’s questions. While she spoke, she slid a hand atop the Rook’s roof, her fingers barely gripping what she had brought Sierra to the studio in: the transport pod. “According to the analysts I spoke to-- oops!” She released the transparent ball, staged as an accident. The device bounced several times before rumbling into a roll, somewhere amidst the shadowy floor. “Oh, I-I forgot I was holding onto that…”

“Was that a transport pod?” Ericka asked, peering around Duval’s side.

“I-It was! That was clumsy, hah…” Duval stooped down to her knees, no longer needing to keep the Rook hidden if Sierra was already at its base. Such was her plan, to drop the transport pod onto the floor where her partner in crime could sneak in and be taken away without notice. A boost in confidence for this scheme swelled within Duval as she knelt down, but that proved temporary as she ran into a problem, that being that the transport pod was actually missing. “... Huh? Wh-Where’d it…”

“Those things are a pain to lose,” Ericka sighed, joining Duval on the other side of the Rook. “They’re basically invisible, especially here in the studio… Well, we can’t let that go missing.” Deciding to join the search, Ericka got onto her hands and knees, angling her tablet’s screen to be used as a light.

“No!” Duval whimpered, almost ready to shove Ericka aside. “Err, no, w-we don’t want that lost, d-do we!” It was nearly impossible to breathe as she had watched Ericka’s feet stomp into the scene, so close to where Sierra was. Her supervisor had no inclination that a single misstep could flatten a person’s existence, making each footfall a climactic viewing for Duval to silently suffer under. The agony was intense, as though it were herself that was fearful of being crushed unknowingly. Sierra, certainly, was in a far more panicked state, which tormented Duval further. “I think… it may have rolled over there…”

Being pointed away from the Rook, Ericka turned and aimed her light in that direction. Her crawl twisted into a sideways seat as she did so, her back inches from the structure. Each of these movements inflamed Duval with worry, flashed with gruesome and humiliating deaths. This giant was careless and insensitive -- so Duval thought to herself, hyper-analyzing everything her supervisor did. She thought of herself as more careful, more gentle, but observing Ericka revealed how big and heavy everything she did had to be. Something as simple as sitting on the floor boasted an incredible amount of power, to anyone with a shrunken perspective.

“I’m pretty sure it didn’t roll this way,” Ericka argued, having found nothing up to where the props circled them. She stood up, striking fear down Duval’s spine when she used the Rook as support. “Let’s move this out of the way, it’d be a lot easier.”

Just as Ericka began to push the Rook and roll it forward, Duval rose as high as her knees allowed and blocked its progress. “Erk! Umm!” She stammered and shook her head -- what excuse did she have this time? How could she possibly think of a lie when she worried about Sierra, so dangerously close to the feet of her supervisor?

“Ophelia?” Ericka muttered, looking over and past the Rook’s peak at where her associate was crouched. “Am I in your way, or…?”

Duval’s mouth remained open to speak, but no excuse was formed. She retracted her arms and crept aside, opening the path for Ericka to continue, wordless all the while. Situated where she was, Duval focused her attention on the black business shoes Ericka wore, alert for any signs of life -- be it a gesture to be noticed, or a splotch of a bloodstain.

Ericka continued with only a shred of confusion over Duval’s mood. She pushed the Rook ahead, its wheels gliding it across the uncovered floor. Duval held her breath tightly, each footstep triggering a harsh wince as her supervisor walked over the space Sierra surely was. Each moment where a tiny human was not seen added another level to Duval’s grueling stress, and yet she had no way of reflecting this horror she felt, keeping her passion swallowed to burn her from within. Ericka, meanwhile, peacefully hummed as she rolled the building to be with the others.

Duval’s eyes shot open like an alarm. Her attentiveness paid off as she noticed a small flicker of motion, a wide wave from a little shape that had collapsed onto the expansive floor. Sierra! The name bolted into Duval’s head, overriding any hesitation she had with a protective instinct. Screw the pod! she decided, And screw Ericka! It was miraculous in itself that Sierra had dodged not just the wheels of the Rook, but the hammering of gigantic footsteps. Not wanting to push her luck, Duval scrambled to where the Rook had been, crawling over top of Sierra’s exhausted form.

Their eyes met, for what felt like the first time in months. Duval stared directly down onto the little life, threads of her hair forming a tent-like hood around her face and Sierra below. Positioned in such a way, Duval was able to keep Sierra out of sight, if only for this brief moment. She wished it could be enough to get this far, and that she could smile for longer knowing Sierra was found safely, but there was still more to overcome. Ericka was turning back towards her, yet there was no transport pod to put Sierra in. Left with only the one option, Duval boldly committed to it; she nabbed Sierra off the ground, swept into a curl of fingers, then disposed of her into the coat pocket.

“Did you find it?” Ericka wondered, returning to Duval’s side.

“No, w-wasn’t here,” Duval stammered tersely. She stood up at a sluggish speed, passing her slowness off as being observant of the floor. More than ever before, she was conscious of how huge she was, that Sierra was being thrown around in the confines of a coat pocket. She remembered the temperature that the tiny woman had endured in there once before, and she felt warmer knowing that there was even less protection against it now. That, in turn, brought her to dwell on how Sierra was without a barrier between her and the normal-sized world. There in her pocket, pressed against her chest, was a four-centimeter tall woman suffering in a swamp-like cell.

And still was there the obstacle of Ericka, who stood arms-crossed surveying the floor again for the transport pod. “... Those pods are expensive, Ophelia...” she remarked.

“I’m-- I know,” Duval sighed, resisting the urge to hold her chest. It weighed on her like a significant imbalance, that she was carrying on her person, an entire person. One hand kept her coat closed in an effort to not impose too much motion sickness onto Sierra. “Um… It has to be around here though,” she finally replied after a pause. Only with Sierra secure could she actually focus on finding the pod.

Fortunately, it was not long after that Ericka spotted the transport pod, having rolled into an alley between two prop buildings. “Here we are,” Ericka said, bending over to pick up the small device.

“Oh thank god,” Duval exhaled, a hand brought to her thumping heart. Far beyond the point of the pod being found, she was greatly relieved to be through with the search. Ericka thought the reaction was perhaps a bit over the top, but nonetheless, she tossed the pod back over to Duval, who nearly dropped it again when it was caught. “There! Err, th-thank you, Ericka, for finding that… Was there anything else you needed me for?”

“We can walk and talk back to your office,” she said, turning towards the door and sliding between structures. “The engineers will be using the studio tonight, so you should clear out now.”

Duval winced when Ericka wasn’t looking -- of course, she remembered, that the studio was going to be used. “Right, I’m coming behind you then…” Trailing behind Ericka, Duval’s footsteps were instinctively more considerate of her seemingly-tiny surroundings. With Sierra still pocketed, the feeling of being giant was accentuated by these miniature props, as though she had kidnapped a woman off the street and was strolling away with her. That feeling would linger even as she returned to the normal world of Shoote Labs; whether it was door frames or peers, Duval leaned away from bumping into anything, stumbling through the halls while holding a conversation just behind Ericka.

“... but that will be figured out next week,” the supervisor concluded, scrolling through her tablet as they reached Duval’s office. “So just message me when you have to those results--”

“Hah! Mm!” Duval squeaked suddenly, cutting off Ericka. She had grown giddy to finally return to her privacy, but it seemed Sierra was more impatient than her. Through her pocket, she felt the rumbling of a tiny person moving about, in no better of a place than directly where her nipple pushed against that spot. Past both her blouse and her bra, Duval was sensitive enough to be tickled by Sierra’s struggling, and at such a poor time. She hid her giggling under a cough, “Yes, I-I’ll send those… results. Tonight.”

Ericka raised a brow and scanned Duval from top to bottom. There was a tense pause between the two, preventing the meeting from ending like she had wished. Awkwardly, Duval tried motioning to her door, which Ericka was in the way of. Every second was torture to be hiding in the laughter that wanted to spill out, but gradually, Ericka backed away.

“One last thing,” Ericka declared. She smiled, “Get some sleep, perhaps? You’ve been acting sort of stiff today.”

Duval chuckled, unsure at first how to reply. “You got it,” she agreed while opening her door. “Th-Thank you, Ericka. I-I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ericka waved farewell past the closing gap in the door as Duval slipped into her office. The door was locked, and Duval rested her back against it. She was safe, and grateful for it. The past half-hour replayed in her mind vividly, recalling the close-calls and gambits. She could barely swallow, so ecstatic where she was on the very edge of these risks. And best of all, she had gotten away with it -- every rule that she broke, every lie that she told, it had all worked out to allow Duval to enjoy a special moment with one of her subjects, consequence free.

Said subject, of course, was still in her pocket, squirming and tickling her. Laughter bubbled from her throat, but it was slowed by exhaustion, her adrenaline long-spent on keeping her nerves under control while deceiving Ericka. Her eyes closed as her mind drifted, her back still against the door. She wanted to release Sierra and spare her from the oven that was the inside of her coat, but at the same time, she rather enjoyed her being there.

A hand, tepid and uncertain, crept towards her left breast, where Sierra’s strifes massaged her nipple. Her fingers enveloped the globe without ever crossing the tiny woman, not to interrupt her. A tender squeeze, almost nonexistent, added to the satisfying thrill that poured from this touch. She inhaled deep, her heart pounding harder again; if she could keep Sierra for herself, if she allowed herself to succumb to any craving she wished -- Duval smiled, imagining that world where that could happen. It was so close, the temptation allured her like a pleasant aroma wafting in the air. Her fingers crawled, knowing how wrong it would be to throw Sierra into her lust. It would be immoral, godless -- she would be the god, defining what was right and wrong. She would be a giant, unstoppable and unleashed, free to act and take as she pleased. It had to be wondered if Sierra would even hate her for that -- she admitted so much before, that fascination with her towering overseer. Duval imagined herself from that shrunken perspective, how terrifying she would be, how much power she would flaunt.

The other hand, less hesitant, was subtly hugged by her thighs. The barest touch against her crotch nearly tipped her over the edge that she was pushed to. Fantasies flew about in her head, fantasies that were within reach. A giggle teased herself of such thoughts, to give in to these desires and apply her lust unabashedly. She could do it now, without anyone’s permission. Sierra would never know, not while trapped inside a pocket. She could get away with it, pass it off as something else, lie like she had been. The taste of betrayal, though she had just tested its sweetness, had proven addictive, and she sought to fulfill herself even more. When else, she wondered, would she ever be able to masturbate with a tiny woman pressed against her tit?

Duval cringed as her conscience resurfaced to review what she had just considered. No, she plainly told herself, through gritted teeth. The tickling continued, but it pained her now, being unable to respond how she wished to. A woman squirmed under the weight of her nipple, and she dared think of it as entertainment, a situation to benefit from. Truly more piercing than that alone was that this was Sierra that suffered, a person Duval had come to know well and trust. She was a friend, not another test to experiment with.

With a huff, Duval pushed off the door and slumped into her couch. Her drop was faster than she intended, causing a bounce of her bosom that Sierra certainly had to endure. “Sorry,” she preemptively apologized, before she opened her coat and peeked into the pocket. The sight of Sierra, safe if perhaps shaken, immediately cast a smile between her warmed cheeks. “Are you hurt at all? I-I’m so, so sorry about all of that, Sierra.”

Sierra waved at her with one arm while the other swiped away a stretch of sweat on her brow. “I’m… I’m okay,” she answered. “I just… can’t... breathe in here well…”

“Right! Right…” Duval grimaced; she had likely made the temperature worse for Sierra with all of her fantasizing. Her hand came into view above the pocket, “I’ll get you out of there--”

“A-Actually, Duval, could I… walk out on my own?” Sierra held a soft defensive pose as she made her request; she shivered from fatigue, a meek sight there in the sag of a pocket. “Uh… I’m still a little dizzy, is all... All that moving around, a-all that heat…”

“Oh! Er, yes, if you wish…” After what she had put Sierra through, Duval was committed to appeasing her any way she could. When prompted with this suggestion, Duval first hesitated, but decided to lay across the couch so that Sierra could safely crawl out. Her adjustment was slow for the shrunken woman’s sake, concluding when Duval’s feet were kicked over one arm rest while her head was cushioned by the other. “Is this good enough? Can you get out by yourself?”

Sierra could, and proved as much by climbing out of the pocket. She was greeted by the brightness of Duval’s office, as well as Duval herself with her curious expression angled at her like a mountain’s slope. A stumble right outside the pocket saw her trip onto a ruffle of Duval’s blouse, inspiring a laugh that the overseer had to keep choked. Sierra revealed to be amused as well as she picked herself up into a seat atop the chest, which rose and fell with each of the ground’s breaths.

Duval shook her head while appreciating Sierra. “I can’t believe we got away with that.”

Sierra nodded, “I can’t believe it, either…”

“Were you worried?” Duval asked, though the answer was obvious, even if Sierra’s expression was all she had. “Oh, Sierra, I’m extremely sorry. I-I never should have taken you to that studio, I… I wasn’t thinking at all. I got obsessed with impressing you, and you… you almost died.”

Sierra chuckled anxiously while stroking her arm. “Almost,” she admitted. “It… was dangerous, but it was… fun.” She giggled more genuinely, “Really fun. And so scary. I-I couldn’t believe how big th-that other woman was…”

“Ericka?” Duval scoffed, “She’s no taller than I am. Am I not big to you anymore?”

“No, no! You’re huge, b-but I’m so used to you being huge. Ericka, she was… also huge, she was terrifying. I felt…” She withheld the word, the sourness biting her tongue as it formed. “I felt so small. I felt helpless.”

Duval winced, a motion she could not restrain enough to not shake Sierra with it. “Darling, that kills me to know this… That isn’t at all what I wanted, I-I wanted you to feel safe.”

Sierra mulled, then looked back up at Duval, deep into her eyes. “I felt very safe with you,” she confessed. “I kept thinking to myself, you know, Duval will figure this out. She won’t let me get hurt. She’ll know what to do. And… you did. God, I was so happy to see you after that building thing got moved. The moment you saw me, I just… knew to trust you.”

Duval fell silent while Sierra rambled over her perspective of events, her smile nervously cracking after each generous statement. She scoffed, “The truth is, I wasn’t sure what I was doing… Trusting me, maybe that isn’t wise… It was my idea to explore the studio, which put us into that trouble to begin with…”

“That was fun, though.” Sierra shifted in her seat, her fingers running over the fabric of Duval’s shirt. “I appreciate it, I really do. And… I still trust you, Duval. I always will, whatever you do.”

A strange emotion in Duval’s chest invoked a sigh, the wind of which ruffled Sierra’s hair regardless of how it was aimed away from her. Duval’s thoughts boiled in a fluster stirred by what she had been assured of. A nervous giggle was all she could respond with, stalling too long for a better answer, but the conversation had revealed something to her: there was no other subject she wanted to be breaking rules with. Sierra was her favorite, after all.

Duval’s tasks for the day were completed just as the rest of the lab began to unwind. Though she succeeded in concentrating on her work after such a perilous afternoon, it was immediately after the shift was over that Duval thought again of Sierra. The tiny woman with overwhelming faith in her could not be shaken from her thoughts; not in the lab’s halls, not on the commute home, and not even in her own bedroom. Of everything Sierra had inspired within Duval, the most lasting sensation was that of her size -- that dependability, that strength, an absoluteness about every motion and decision she made. Furniture felt weaker, space felt shorter, all while perceiving her surroundings with Sierra’s diminutive perspective in mind.

Shedding herself of her work attire, Duval approached her bed, naked and aroused despite nothing ahead of her. She glowed red with temptation now that she was safe and far from its risks, free to cherish and explore those deeply reserved cravings. She collapsed in bed, laughing at the waves her weight made, imagining the effects it would have on people so small that they could not stop a single, lonely woman from having what she wanted.

The sheets coiled around her as she sank into her dreams. Her fingers curled around an empty space, where Sierra would be hugged perfectly in her grasp.