The Assistants
#10: Talk
by JMD

   Paul was sitting at the desk in his office, going through the pile of mail that had accumulated while he was on his honeymoon.  A knock on the door caused him to look up.  Hollie was standing in the doorway wearing her short white bathrobe.  "Okay," she said crossing her arms over her chest.  "It's been two hours.  Long enough?"
   "I think so," he nodded.
   She nodded in return.  "And you're sure this won't cause an issue?"  Without untying the belt, she pulled the bottom of the robe open.
   Paul tried not to, but he had to smile at the way the pure white lace thong stood out against the pair of black bikini panties worn under it.  "The wish was to be 'wrapped around' your butt," he explained.  "So, I think we're okay."
   "Good," she said, hooking her thumbs into the waist of the thong and sliding it down her legs.  "Because there's no way I was going to allow her to ride up into..."  She let the sentence stop there.  "Not that she didn't try," she added, stepping out of it.
   "That was probably not her," he said, getting out of his chair and coming around the desk.  "She shouldn't have been able to do anything like that.  Nothing that a normal thong wouldn't do anyway."
   "You're sure?" she asked, standing up straight.
   "Positive," he confirmed, stopping in front of her.
   "Okay."  She sighed, before dangling the thong out to him.  "Well, here she is."
   Paul took it from her and casually tossed it into the chair he kept by his desk for guests.  Then he took his new wife into his arms.  "Again, I'm sorry," he told her, pulling her into a hug.
   Hollie returned the hug for a moment, then replied, "And again, you're forgiven."  She waited another second or two, then pulled back and looked him straight in the eye.  "This time."
   He gave her a cautious smile.  "Got it," he said, releasing the hug.
   "Now," she said, patting him on the chest and turning to go, "if you'll excuse me, I'm headed for a shower.  A nice long shower."  She stopped at the office door.  "I'd appreciate it," she added without turning back to him, "if she was out of here by the time I was out."
   "Do my best," he promised.
   "Thanks."  And with that she was gone.
   Paul sighed, closing the door behind his wife.  He turned and went back to his chair.  "Okay, Corrie," he said, sitting down, "we appear to be on a deadline, so...  Wish granted."
   He leaned back and watched as the thong in the chair slowly morphed back into his sister.  The woman took a few moments to adjust the bridesmaid dress she was still wearing before looking back at him.  "Well," she said with a lot of sarcasm, "that was more than a little disappointing.  You'd think that after sending me through the laundry and leaving me in a drawer for over a month, the least she could do is wear me properly."
   "Cut her some slack," Paul warned.  "She didn't do any of that to you.  I did."
   "Then," Corrie mused with a sly smile, "maybe you should have worn me instead."
   "I could have, you know," Paul shot back, taking a bit of satisfaction from his sister's startled expression.  "I could have worn you all day... every day... from now on."  He paused for effect.  "And you couldn't have done a damned thing about it."
   Corrie opened her mouth to say something, but backed off.  Instead, she slumped back in the chair.
   "So, lay off Hollie," Paul scolded.  "You should be thankful that she agreed to wear you at all, after what you did.  What were you thinking anyway?"
   "I'm not really sure I was," Corrie admitted.  "I was a little drunk..."
   "A little?" Paul questioned.
   She threw her hand up in frustration.  "Okay.  More than a little.  Point is, my inhibitions were down... and the truce was over... and it was my turn..."
   "It was?"
   "Wasn't it?"
   "As I remember it," Paul corrected, "the last thing done in our little back-and-forth was you turning my fiancée into various items in our apartment, including a rather intimate part of my own anatomy."
   His sister smiled at the memory.  "Yeah, that was..."  She stopped at the hard look her brother gave her.  Clearing her throat, she changed the subject.  "So, is that why you're so mad?  You think I owe you a round?  Fine.  Take it.  Do your worst."
   "That's exactly what I'm going to do," Paul told her.  "I'm going to do the one thing guaranteed to ruin your day."
   Corrie looked honestly curious.  "And what's that?"
   "Nothing."
   "What?" she asked, confused.
   "You heard me," he repeated.  "Nothing.  I'm done, Corrie.  It's over."
   Corrie sat up straight.  "But that's..."  The woman looked genuinely angry for a moment, but then her expression softened to acceptance.  "Fine," she sighed, sitting back in the chair.  "Honestly, I can't say I didn't see this coming.  It's just..."  She stopped as she sighed again.  "I'm going to miss it."
   "Really?" Paul questioned.  "Corrie, you just got through complaining about spending a month in a drawer."  His sister just shrugged.  "And before that, you were trapped in the postal service for almost two."
   Corrie smiled softly.  "That wasn't so bad actually."  She sat forward, missing Paul's uncomfortable expression.  "The point is, Paul, it was you and me going at it again.  Like we did when we were both at home.  Before we both got so busy with our separate shows.  Our separate schedules."  She sat back again.  "It just seemed like old times."
   "Maybe," Paul admitted.  "But we're not kids anymore.  We're a lot more powerful than we were then.  What we do now can have serious consequences.  And not just for us.  For the people around us."
   Corrie sighed sadly.  "Okay, I get it."  Her eyes narrowed at Paul's doubtful expression.  "I really do," she insisted.  "No more ambushes."  She smiled.  "But I can't promise not to take advantage of any openings you might let slip through."
   Paul smiled back.  "I'll just have to be extra careful then."  
   "You'd better," his sister warned.  "Now, I'd better be going before your new bride finishes her shower."  She reached under the hem of her bridesmaid dress.  A moment later, she pulled her purse out from between her legs.
   Paul looked dubious.  "Do I want to know where you were keeping that?"  Corrie just smiled in reply.  "Never mind," he said quickly.  "But hold up.  There's one more bit of business we need to discuss."
   Corrie gave him her typical wave as she stood up.  "Yeah, yeah," she stated.  "Your assistants.  Off limits.  Got it."
   Paul gave her a smile.  "Nice try, Sis," he scoffed.  "But you know as well as I do that it doesn't count unless I actually say the words."
   Corrie returned the smile.  "Can't blame a girl for trying."
   "I could," he commented, "but why bother?"  That got him a smile and a shrug.  "Okay," he went on.  "Here it is.  Official.  My assistants are off limits.  Any permission I may have given you in the past to use them is revoked."
   "Heard and acknowledged," Corrie recited in reply.  "No big deal, actually," she added.  "Fun as they were, none of your girls come close to my assistant anyway."  This time, Paul's discomfort didn't go unnoticed.  "What?" she asked suspiciously.
   "Corrie..." Paul started, but stopped.
   "Out with it, Paul," Corrie ordered in frustration, "before I forget we have an understanding."
   "Corrie," Paul started again, "you don't have an assistant anymore."  He took a breath before going on.  "Kristina quit."
   "Quit?"
   "Officially," he confirmed.  "She's gone back to dancing."
   "Dancing?" Corrie repeated.
   "You know," Paul replied, "like before she joined me.  On the stage."
   "I know what kind of dancing she did, Paul," she shot back.  "But why..."  She stopped, her confused expression fading into one of understanding.  "Never mind," she said with a sigh, turning away.  "I know why.  I scared her off."
   Paul sighed.  "I don't think it was just you.  She seemed pretty bothered by what I did, too."
   Corrie turned to look at him.  "But she still trusts you, I bet."
   Paul hesitated before he answered.  "I think so, yes."
   Corrie's face showed genuine hurt for a few seconds.  Then, Paul watched as she forced it into her usual aloof appearance.  "Oh, well..." she started.
   "Corrie..."
   "No," she cut him off, "it's okay.  Kristi's hardly the first one that couldn't handle me.  She probably won't be the last."  She turned to go.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to start looking for a new..."
   "Mildred Corrina Lance!" Paul called out.
   Corrie turned back violently.  "I told you never to..."
   "You are so full of shit!" he pressed on.
   "I beg your...
   "You do this every time," he accused.  "Instead of dealing with your feelings, you pretend everything's fine."
   "That's because everything is fine," she insisted.
   "Bullshit!" he shouted.  "I know you, Sis.  I've watched you with Kristina.  She wasn't just another fling."
   Corrie hesitated, her eyes going soft for just a moment before she quickly recovered.  "Okay," she put forth.  "I'll admit that she was a lot more fun than some of my other lovers, but that doesn't mean..."
   Paul cut her off.  "You told her about the prom."
   That stopped her.  "What?"
   "The prom," Paul repeated.  "You told her about it.  Everything about it."
   "So?"
   "You've never told anyone about it."
   "That's not true," Corrie corrected him.  "I told Mom."
   "No," he argued.  "I told Mom.  I just happened to look like you at the time."
   She nodded her head in deference.  "Okay.  But I was there."
   "Only because I hadn't taken you off yet," he pointed out.  
   She smiled at the memory.  "Yeah, you really managed to turn that one around on me, didn't you?"  She sat back down in the chair.  "So, I told her.  So what?"
   "Don't you get it?" Paul asked.  "Why haven't you told anyone about the prom until now?"
   She gave the question some honest consideration before answering.  "Because it was embarrassing."
   "What was embarrassing about it?"  When she didn't answer, he pressed further.  "Was it because I managed to get the drop on you and wore you as a dress?"
   She spat out a dismissive laugh.  "Like that's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done to me," she countered.  She sighed before she went on.  "It wasn't what you did.  It's what I did."  He waited for her to go on.  "I should have been the one to talk to Sam.  To tell him that I realized that I was gay.  But instead, I sent you to do it for me."
   "Well," he smiled, "at least you were there."
   She smiled back briefly.  "Still, not my proudest moment.  So, I don't go around sharing it with people."
   "You shared it with Kristina," he pointed out.
   "Yeah," she nodded, closing her eyes.  "I did."  Again, he waited her out.  "Okay, you got me," she said, sitting forward.  "She was special.  Happy now?"
   "Not if you're not."
   "I'll be fine," Corrie said with her usual wave.
   Paul started to protest again, but decided to take a different approach.  "What made her so special?"
   Corrie smiled for a second.  "She got me," she answered simply.
   "Ah."
   Corrie shook her head.  "Not like that," she insisted.  "She got me.  With your computer set-up.  She actually managed to use it to turn me into a blow-up doll.  Do you know how many people have managed to capture me using magic?  Present company excluded, of course."
   "I'm guessing one," he answered.
   "Two, actually," she corrected.  "Your new bride managed it once."
   "Really?" he asked, genuinely surprised.  
   "Yup," Corrie confirmed.  "At her bachelorette party."
   "She never mentioned it."
   "Hmm..."  Corrie took the fact in, then nodded.  "Well, besides her," she continued, "there's only been one.  Kristi.  Others have tried but, much to their regret, failed.  Kristi, though.  I never saw it coming."  She blew out half of a laugh.  "And then, what she did for Valentine's Day."
   "With my paper folding machine?" Paul asked.
   "Yeah," Corrie nodded.  "All the others...  They all would make me do all the work.  Magically, I mean.  They might ask for this or that, sure.  But all the heavy lifting.  That was on me.  But not her.  She not only came up with the idea, but she actually did it herself."
   "Well, I helped," Paul protested playfully.
   "Yes, you did," Corrie admitted with a smile.  "And thanks for that.  But my point is that she didn't just want me to do stuff to her.  She wanted to do something for me."
   "Sounds nice," Paul said softly.
   "You've got no idea."  
   "I might," Paul commented.    
   The two shared a smile.  Then, Paul watched as his sister seemed to consider something.  A second later, she was back on her feet, her face back in its guarded expression.  "Well," she said, straightening her dress, "it was nice while it lasted."
   "Corrie..."
   "No, Paul," Corrie insisted, moving toward the closed door of his office.  "It's over."
   "It doesn't have to be," he told her.  "Go talk to her."
   She stopped at the door without turning around.  "No," she flatly stated.  "I'll just have to accept that she...  That I..."  She stopped and took a deep breath.  She looked down at the purse in her hands.  With a shake of her head, she snapped it open and reached inside.  "Here," she said, pulling something out and tossing it to her brother, "give that to someone that can use it."  
   Caught off guard, Paul fumbled the item before he caught it.  "What..."
   But Corrie didn't wait on him to ask.  "I don't need it anymore," she said.  Without opening it, she stepped through the closed office door.  And just like that, she was gone.
   A second later, the door cracked open and Hollie cautiously stuck her face into the narrow passage.  "Is it safe to come in?"  Seeing Paul sitting by himself at his desk, she opened the door the rest of the way.  She looked around, but didn't see her sister-in-law anywhere.  "I could hear the two of you all the way down the hall," she said, coming into the office.  "Then, it got quiet.  I was afraid that I might come in here and find one or both of you turned into pet rocks or something."  She looked around some more.  "So, is she?"
   Paul looked up at her, obviously confused.  "Is she what?"
   "A pet rock," she said.  She realized that Paul was holding something in his hands, and came over for a closer look.  "Is that her?"
   Paul continued to look at her.  "What?"  Then he seemed to hear what she'd said.  "No," he told her.  "She's gone."  He turned his eyes back to the object in his hand.
   "So, what's..."  She stopped as she realized what her husband was holding.  "Aw shit," she hissed.
   Paul nodded in agreement, unable to take his eyes off of the black felt ring box his sister had thrown to him.  He popped it open and stared at the big diamond on the ring inside.  
   "Dammit," he said softly.