Annie CX: Breathing

(Chronological index: Junior year in College)

Annie rolled over on her bed and sat up. Just as she did, the relay in the alarm clock radio snapped, starting the day. She rose and stretched as Ray flopped over, feeling for the volume control.

Thomas rolled over to eye the sylph in her cage. "Someone keeps turning the volume up on that damned thing," he said. Annie looked innocently back, batting her eyes.

"Must be the radio fairies," she said. He snorted and rose. Annie grabbed her towel and started to clamber out of the cage.

The song on the radio ended and Sting started to play. "Oooh! Time out for Sting!" she called, sitting down on the stapler. "Please?"

"I gotta go potty," Ray mumbled. He left his shaving kit and towel, grabbed a robe and stumbled off. Thomas waved at Annie as he followed.

Annie loved the Police. This love song was new and wonderful. She sat still, concentrating on the lyrics. She hadn't had a chance to hear them all yet. Not living with noisy boys the size of warp nacelles.

He sang about watching his love's every move, every step. Down to her breaths.

She kinda thought of her and Ray. She did watch his every move. Especially him and Thomas getting dressed in the morning. It was innocent enough, and she'd never infringe on Susan's.... Wait, what? "What did he say?"

Sting mentioned that his lover 'belonged' to him. Considering her situation, that struck a little close to home. Every step... Ray had watched her walk across his desk for hours. Every single step she took, he was watching.

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God," she muttered. She grabbed her knees and rocked back and forth.

This wasn't a love song. This was a sylph's owner. Every game you play? Eight years of battleship and poker and gin... Always across the table from Ray. Or Raymond.

Every vow you break, smile you fake. But she didn't! She didn't fake smiles! She was a good pet! Sure, she teased, but... But Ray loved her! She knew it, felt it, the smiles weren't manipulative.

The voice sang on, the half-heard love song coming out as clear poison now.

Annie's natural resistance to the dominating effects of giant faces and giant voices seemed to crumble as the song played. Ray's faced loomed in her mind, looking down at her and watching, mocking, planning.

She was a crazy's toy, an object to covet, not a friend, not a partner. Why hadn't she seen it before?

Quivering in place, curled over with arms wrapped around herself, the song faded. And Thriller started. She'd seen that video eleventy hundred times. But instead of the exciting mass dance routine... She remembered Michael betraying the little woman he was supposed to be protecting.

Protecting from an army of zombie Ray's coming to get her...

---------

Ray finally backed away from the gossip being shared in the hall and went back to the room. Time for their shower and other morning rituals.

He glanced at the clock in the common room as he passed. Oops. Well past time. He walked a little faster and barked as he opened the door. "ANNIE!"

His sylph screamed. She hopped up into the air, coming back down on her seat. The stapler, folded under her ass and she tumbled over the blotter, rolling towards the edge of the desk.

Ray shot forward, hands out. She didn't quite go over the edge, but he would have made it if she had. He sat down, feeling proud of his reflexes. Annie looked up at him over her shoulder.

And screamed.

She crawled rapidly away from him, headed for the back of the desk. He casually pinched her hips and lifted her up. "What is wrong with you?"

"Watching, love, every step," she babbled. Her hands slapped at his fingers and she kicked desperately.

He slapped the radio off, braced for her to complain 'I was listening to that.' Especially since it was Michael.

But she just screamed, startled at his sudden movement. "Christ, Annie, what's wrong with you?"

"I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!" she shouted.

"What? Of course you do. But..." He shifted a bit in his chair. "I, uh, I thought we were okay?"

Her eyes darted back and forth like she was looking for an escape route. He unconsciously pinched her a bit tighter. She started to bawl, babbling something he couldn't understand.

"Annie, Annie. ANNIE! Breathe, girl. Just breathe." He looked close to watch, expecting her to take deep ones and calm down.

The scrutiny, the surveillance, watching her every breath... She broke down completely. A distinctly pole-axed master held her in his hand and tried to figure when they'd taken a left turn into crazyland.

She was vaguely aware of being handled. He placed her in her cage, in her bed, and tucked her little blanket over her. She lay back and sobbed into her pillow.

Thomas came back and the giants spoke. She heard 'no fucking idea' a time or three. Then Master left. She realized he had gone to shower without her. Then she realized he had waited until Thomas came back to watch over her.

More surveillance. She screwed her eyes up tight and grabbed fistfuls of pillow.

The next thing she knew, the cage was shaking. Not roughly, just oddly. She sat up. Master was wiring the cage shut. The door latch had been removed quite a while ago. Now he was sealing her in so she couldn't get away. First time in... oh, years, probably.

Of course. The mask is removed and the truth comes out. She shrugged and watched. Then she saw he was taking the wire off, not putting it on. He had locked her in while he left the room. Ah.

"All drama aside," he said, "I assume you want breakfast?"

"Yes, please," she said.

He opened the door and placed his hand in front of it. She climbed out and slumped on his palm. He carried her to the sink for a shortened version of morning ablutions and then she was in his pocket.

He walked carefully down the stairs and crossed to the dining hall. She watched him gather breakfast, noting the bowl of strawberries he thought she favored.

If he really loved her, he'd have gotten the orange.

He sat and lifted a fruit to his pocket. "I don't get to eat on the table, Master?" she asked.

"I'm leery about letting you down," he said. "I don't know what's wrong or why you hate me." He started to eat. She nibbled, careful not to stain his shirt. Not too much, anyway.

"Fair enough," she said. "I belong to you. You get to make those decisions."

"You're damned right you belong to me," he said. "And why is that suddenly a problem?"

"Well, how'd YOU like to belong to someone?" she snapped.

"Is she as cute as you?" he asked immediately.

"Don't try to butter me up."

"Okay. Do I belong to someone that makes me dance?"

She had to admit, he was good about that. After Boston, anyway. He encouraged her to dance. And she'd taught him to dance. But he didn't let strangers talk him into making her dance. "Yes," she said. "They make you dance." She finished eating and heaved the remains down onto his plate.

"Then I wouldn't like it," he admitted. He finished his toast. "Do they make me go naked?"

Another plus for Ray. Once he'd seen her dressed, he liked her better that way. But she wouldn't give in. "Yes. Twenty four, seven. Naked Ray time."

"I wouldn't like that, either. Do they let me watch TV? Pick the shows?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Ray. You're a great master, the best I could hope for. But you're still my master. You still own me. I..." She swallowed to get the catch out of her voice. He rose and carried his tray to the scullery.

"I belong to you."

"Legally," he said.

"What other way matters?" she fired back.

"I would say you belong WITH me, more than anything else." He walked out. She braced herself for the usual bump as he slung the book bag on his shoulder. But there was nothing.

"Hey! Where are your books?"

"Gotta see about an upset friend," he said.

---------

Annie told herself she didn't care where they were going. It wasn't like her opinion mattered. Glorious Master would go where he wanted, and take her or leave her on the same basis.

But she was curious. She poked her head out of the pocket in time to see the doors to the library. Ah. Maybe he would finally check out that sylph obedience book he kept threatening to read.

That'd show her who was boss, wouldn't it? She sank down in the pocket again. She was obediently quiet as he went about his business. As they went about his business. She toyed with some of the strings in the pocket seam.

"Well, hello!" Some old lady was talking to him.

"Hi," Ray said. "I hated to call you but I need a favor."

"Sure. I definitely owe you one or two." She seemed friendly enough, Annie judged. But who was she? She did notice that Master wasn't introducing his property. But he didn't introduce his shoes, either.

"Yeah, well, my sylph has gone insane."

"Ah. And you need....?"

"I think she needs a shoulder to cry on. I need a translator. And I was hoping..."

"Glad to, Ray, glad to. Where is she?"

"Annie?" There was a tug at the pocket. She stood and let him pick her up. She didn't recognize the racks of books. It seemed like an isolated corner.

The lady wasn't as old as she'd thought, just small. There was a quick smile and then she was holding out her purse.

"Uh, hi," Annie said. Why was Ray handing her over? Were there sylph counselors? Vets? And why exchange in the library.

But before she could voice any concerns, Ray dropped her into the purse. There was a zipping and she was in the dark. It reminded her of being trafficked. But Ray wouldn't do that to her, would he?

OR was that the plan? Two days in a peep show, she'd be glad to come home?

"Hello?" she called. The purse was roomy. And was that carpeting? Just as she knelt to feel around, lights came on.

The purse was not only roomy, it was upholstered. Wooden panels reinforced the sides, the carpeting was a tasteful match to the wood's stain. Indirect lighting let her see without any fear of staggering against the bulbs.

The bag swung slightly as the woman moved. Annie leaned over to brace herself against the wall and found a handhold. She relaxed a little bit. Handholds were a good sign.

"You can stay there," a voice said. She spun around.

Poul sat on a sofa that looked to be bolted to the floor. He tugged at an elastic band that crossed the seat next to his. A similar band held him securely in place. "But personally, I like to sit down while Dottie's walking."

Annie stared, then lunged for the sofa. Poul helped her sit and strap in. When it was safe, they stared at each other for a while.

"I missed you," he said. She started to bawl. He held her close and tight. "What, what, what is it?"

"Oh, Poul! We're just PETS!"

"Ah." He hugged her tighter.

------

She rocked in his arms until the carrier stopped swinging. They heard the professor say something about classes and they were alone.

"Want a drink?" he asked.

"Sure."

He rose and opened a cabinet behind the sofa. There were a number of little plastic containers. He pulled the cork out of one and poured two glasses of something alcoholic. She took hers and sipped.

"So, what's this? Your portable bachelor pad?"

"Dottie and I have spent some time on my carrier." He sat beside her and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder. "It's not an ammo case, but I like it."

"It's nice," she said softly. They sat in companionable silence for a while. "What were you doing in the library?"

"Ray called us," he said. "Dottie still owes him for rescuing me from Alaska, so she went."

"I didn't hear him call you."

"He said something about a crazypants sylph 'up in the room.' Dottie said we'd meet after breakfast, and picked a part of the library no one goes to."

"Poultry waste management?" she asked with a small smile. He blew a raspberry at her.

She laughed, then sighed. "It just struck me, we're just pets."

"Annie, you've been a pet since The Day," he said. "Caught, registered and caged. But you're not and never have been 'just' anything."

"Semantics," she said.

"There's a reason the word 'just' was invented. And 'mere' and 'only' and all those dismissive qualifiers."

"But they fit!" She teared up again. He sat through her crying as she sobbed out the songs that brought out this reaction.

"Wow. I thought it was just a guy setting his sights on the one that got away," he muttered.

"Yeah! But no! It's all... Creepy. And it's like he was watching me, on Raymond's desk. My every step. My every breath. Making me walk. Ordering the length of my steps, the width of my stance-"

"I get it, Annie."

"Where to put my hands, how far to lean, how fast to go, how-"

"ANNIE!"

"What?"

"I said I know." She stared at him for a second. He thought she looked skeptical. "Well, Dottie wasn't a teenager, but she was... Excited about certain possibilities."

"Ew!"

"Damn right, ew," he said. "Ever been under a chicken's ass while it laid an egg?"

"Oh, uh.... Double ew."

"Yeah, you should- Wait, what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing."

"No. No, what did you think I was talking about?" he asked.

"Well. If _I_ suddenly had someone as hot as you in my hands, and someone described me as excited, I wouldn't be thinking poultry science."

He stared for a second, eyes widening. "With LUTTUCK?"

Annie was distracted from her angst as she tried to calm Poul. She realized the joke was tasteless, she hadn't really tried to intimate that Poul and his owner had done something so crass and lowbrow as cross-species sex.

Yes, she agreed, only the miserable people that hung out at the peep shows behind the peep shows, etcetera, etcetera.

By the time he was convinced she hadn't meant to insult anyone, Professor Luttuck was through with her classes for the day. She glanced down through the top of the bag, gave them time to strap down, and hoisted them up.

"Back to the library?" Annie asked. He shook his head.

"Wednesdays are reserved for the knitting club," Poul said. Annie was distracted again. Ray had more than a few knitters in his family. They had travel bags a sylph could get lost in, bursting with yarn, projects, patterns and needles they treated better than a pool shark carried his cue.

How would Dottie have space for yarn AND this roomy, upholstered carrier of Poul's? And would the other knitters tolerate a sylph? All Ray's family was half convinced she'd hit the yarn like a kitten with thumbs...

Her questions must have shown on her face. Poul smiled. "Of course, 'knit' is a euphemism."

"Oooooh," she said, as if enlightened. What would the right word be? Drinking? Political infighting? At least, if it was an orgy, they wouldn't be inviting the sylphs to play.

In the end, it turned out to be a bar. Shakespeare's Lounge was just off the campus, convenient but exclusive. Students were not allowed except on express invitation by faculty.

Annie saw nothing of the front room. But the back of the back had a special place. The room was comfortable and large, filled with little conversation pits. And along the wall, a one hundred twenty five gallon aquarium had been turned into a sylph-scaled replica of the humans' space.

Dottie lowered the sylphs in and went off to drink with the other owners. Annie looked around. "What is this?"

"Knitting," Poul said. "Come on. Let's meet some other people that are 'just pets' now."

"Oh!" She knew she was being teased. He laughed as her fingernails dug into his upper arm. "Don't tell anyone I said that!"

"Annie, we all go through that. No one will think less of you for suffering a self-actualization anti-epiphany." He disengaged her fingernails and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "And I'm trying to get you PAST that, not to dwell on it. So it's fine."

His mustache touched at her ear as he whispered. "This is a safe place."

"Okay." They held hands and went to shake hands.

The sylphs were in costumes, normal looking clothes, loincloths and naked. They greeted her with sincere welcome, hidden suspicion, naked lust and more than a few recognized her name.

And remembered some exploits.

"Is that REALLY you? The raven in the Sylph Rescue presentation?"

"They STILL show that? I put way too much work into that costume to think it's humiliating." Annie found herself laughing. The social setting, a bunch of different people that all were the 'right' scale was putting her at ease.

Of course, when she thought of it, she remembered that all these people could be bought and sold at the whim of the giants outside the walls and her depression came crashing back.

Then she saw a little girl. Poul gave a little whine and pried her fingernails out of his skin. "What?" His tone made her notice that his tolerance of her mood was reaching a limit. She gently touched his wrist to bring it to her face and kissed it better.

He grunted something, slightly mollified, and in a much better mood repeated his question.

"Who's that?"

"April," he said. "Belongs to that guy over-"

"She's a kid!" Annie whispered.

"Yeah, twelve or thirteen. She sylphed when she was four. Why?"

"She...." Annie couldn't quite put her concerns into words. Her hands waved in circles. "What does she.... How does she...?"

Poul nodded and led Annie down a flight of stairs to a small room in the tank's corner. He sat them on a cushion. "April doesn't really remember being tall. Except television," he laughed. "She remembers 'when cartoons weren't giants.' But that's about it. Why?"

"She... She's USED to this!" Annie said, horrified. "To being a pet. Property. To wondering if master would ever get tired of her and sell her."

"She belongs to her own dad, Annie, I don't think there's a risk he's going to sell her to a breeder for-"

"Okay, not her!" Annie waved that aside. "But she represents. What she represents. Sylphs that were too young on the day to have lived life! They didn't get a chance to be real people, to drive, to vote, to get snot-slinging drunk, to-"

"To graduate high school?" he asked.

"Exactly!"

"To lose their virginity before they fit in a professor's drawer?"

"That's what-" She paused. "You think this is about me?"

"Sweetheart, of course it's about you. YOU had a temporary breakdown of your natural confidence." Poul hugged her close. "You're seeing boogeymen where there aren't any."

"I've been inside a sylph peep show," she snapped. "Trafficking isn't a bugbear."

"But I know for a fact that Ray didn't traffic you."

"Well, no," she agreed. "Raymond...punished the trafficker."

"He called the cops?"

"He burned her car to slag."

"Ray?" Poul asked, incredulous. "What, he put a firework in her gas tank?"

"My master knows how to make napalm," she said primly. "And you've never seen him on the warpath."

He didn't look enlightened when she finished describing Raymond's revenge on Carpenter. He was smiling.

"What?"

"You're defending, even bragging on the man you think treats you like a toy?" He leaned back on the cushion. "Methinks the sylphette doth protest too-"

She drove her elbow into his belly.

Poul wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. His laughing didn't speed the process. She ignored him and started pacing. "It's not Ray. I mean, not really. It's the idea of Ray. Of owners. Of being owned. We're not really people. We have no rights but what they," and she waved at the faculty outside, "grant us."

She pointed in the direction of April. "And as we pass away, the really young ones won't remember having basic human rights and-"

Annie gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, God. Oh, my God. There are sylphs being born!"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Oh, God! Born to being a pet! Being property is all they'll ever know!" She shivered. "I couldn't handle that."

"You'll never have to, "he pointed out.

"No, no, but talking to someone like that? I couldn't do it. It'd be too weird! We'd have nothing in common!"

A couple hundred miles away, a nine year old Pet and her mother helped Denise decorate cupcakes for a class party. The little sylph suddenly burst out in a serious case of giggles.

She could never explain exactly what struck her so funny. Or why she would say 'we'll see about that' at random for about a week afterwards.

Back at the bar, Poul stood and gathered Annie to his chest, arms wrapped around her shoulders and back. "Annie, there are a lot of things about you that aren't common.

"You have more attitude than any three sylphs in this tank. And you don't hesitate to express it. Which-"

"I'm sure my new master will take steps to correct that personality failing," she grumped.

"WHICH," he repeated loudly, "says as much about your master as it says about you.

"I've been in your carrier, Annie," he said, looking into her eyes. "I literally know sylphs that would kill to live your life. To have a master that listens. That cares for you, and not as a status symbol."

"Ray uses me as bait for babes," she protested.

"And when he has to choose between you or the babe?"

"Well," she said slowly. The Bebeast came to mind, then screeched as a mental hook dragged her off the stage. She started to smile. He took that as a sign of victory. Their smiles fed back on each other until they were laughing.

"Okay," he finally said. "Brent should be here by now." He ignored the way her body tensed up under his touch at that name. "I say we go kick his ass at Trivial Pursuit."

"Ooooh," she purred. "As long as you take all the questions on the political dialectic?"

"And you take all the questions on television," he replied.

---------

She stayed in the tank until Dottie asked if they were ready to go. Other giants had just reached in and yanked their pets up into the sky. The courtesy struck Annie more powerfully than it might have on another day.

She thanked the professor graciously for indulging a sad little sylph. "Oh, don't thank me, dear, Poultry's been looking for a chance to see you again."

They strapped in and cuddled a bit as they were carried off.

"Thanks," she said after a bit. "I really needed this."

"I enjoyed it," he said.

"We're going back to the library?"

"Yeah. Promised Ray you'd be back in his greedy hands by- WHOOF!"

"Oh, did I elbow you in the gut again?" she asked. He gasped. "I'm sorry. But don't talk about my owner like that." He coughed and nodded. "Even in jest." She listened to his wheezing for a bit. "That's my job."

--------

Ray was pacing in the corner of the library when Professor Luttuck arrived. She smiled to see him. "How long have you been waiting?" she asked.

"About a hundred years," he said. "How is she?"

"She's fine. She just needed some time to get a fresh perspective." She opened her bag and lifted out the two sylphs. She held them close enough to kiss each other goodbye, but watched Ray as they did.

He seemed happy enough. There was no flash of jealousy at seeing Annie kiss someone else. But the relief in his eyes shone bright when his sylph was handed over.

And from what she could see, the little woman was giving her owner much the same look.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Annie asked.

"For...whatever," he replied.

"Well... It was sort of..." Her free hand waved expressively. The other was gripping his finger where he held her.

"Ah," he said as if enlightened. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she replied.

"I hate expositional lumps," Poul grumped. "Authors that can't get an idea across without four pages of dialogue to-"

"That's enough, dear," Dottie said. He quieted. Ray and his sylph expressed undying gratitude. Dottie toyed with the idea of inviting them to dinner, when it was so very clear that they wanted to run off and be alone together.

But she finally made her excuses and carried her own sylph back to the car. "Good work, dear."

"I just had to find the reset button," he shrugged. "But I had hoped for a little more...intimacy?"

"Well, we can always ask THEM for a favor," she said. She lowered him to the car seat as she started the engine. "My sylph is suffering a terminal lack of nookie and wonders if Annie could help."

"Please?" he asked. Begged, even. And Dottie could never deny her sylph...

--------

Years later, Annie and Pet were listening to the radio when they heard Katy Perry's song, E.T. The male lead pointed out, 'I abducted you, I tell you what to do.' Annie gasped, eyes went wide and her face pale. For an instant, she was back at the high school, pinned under a stick, as giant Raymond reached down to pick her up.

But this time, her captor had a silvery spacesuit... And antennae.

"What?" Pet asked.

"Um... Nothing," Annie said, "just an odd sort of flashback." She glanced over at the blonde relaxing on the sofa cushion. "When you were growing up, did you have any sort of existential crisis?"

Pet blinked.

"I mean, did you have a moment when you realized you were just property? And realized Denise could sell you to someone else whenever she felt like it?"

"Ha," Pet giggled. "That'll be the day." Then her own eyes went wide at a distant memory of saying that...



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