Work With Me

(Denny and Pet in College)

(author's note: Yes, I know my timeline roughly puts an affordable digital camera in a sylph's hands ten years before they were widely available outside of medical applications, government surveillance and the Airline/Toothpaste Conspiracy, but the tech suits my needs and the time suits the mood I want. And it's my universe so I fall back on the debate tactic of 'because shut up, that's why' in anticipation of any complaints. Or, you could take this warning at face value and skip this chapter, whatever.)

For Denise's sophomore year, Pet still didn't get to go everywhere with her owner. Denny made sure she had almost every meal with Pet, and they were together every night, every date and all weekend.

But the school policy was no sylphs at exams. Individual teachers' rules varied, so while Pet sometimes attended class, she didn't always.

And all the financial stuff bored her out of her little mind.

But there were always volunteers to look after her, as she was widely known to be sweet and cute and ticklish.

One day after Mimsy returned Pet to Denny's room, Pet started asking about Denny's new camera.

"It's digital, right?"

"Yes," Denise agreed. She still cupped her favorite sylph in her hands. She usually didn't put Pet down for quite a few minutes after they'd been reunited.

Pet never wanted down for about an hour.

"So… It doesn't use up actual film, right?"

Denise glanced at the door Mimsy had just gone through. "What did you and the photo-journalism major do, Pet?"

"We talked about lighting and color and depth of focus and makeup and mood lighting and light filters and the differences between spots and…and…and, um, more of an area effect."

"And how much of it do you remember, Pet?" Denise's roommate asked. was on the opposite bed. She bristled for a moment at the question ready to defend Pet. Then she noticed the tone. Tovah wasn't trying to be insulting, she was genuinely curious.

"Lots!" Pet smiled. She turned back to her owner. "So, if it's digital, and I took a picture, it wouldn't be…wasting film would it?"

"Of course not!" Denny said. "You want to take a picture?" She glanced out the room window. Robins had a nest in the tree outside and Pet could spend hours watching it. "I bet I know what of."

"Of course you do!" Pet cheered. "You know you're my favorite subject."

"Well, we can set up a platform to… Wait, what?"

"That's a great idea!" Tovah said. She popped to her feet. "We need lights."

"Whoops," Pet said. "I put a quarter in her."

"It's a Friday, Pet," Denise pointed out. "You could get just as much pent-up energy out of Tovah with a penny on a Friday."

"Yeah," Pet sighed.

Twenty minutes later, the photo shoot had become a project for the entire floor. Sheets were hung on the lounge wall. Lamps had been collected from rooms and were arranged behind and before other sheets.

Three girls had done Denise's makeup, constantly asking Pet what she wanted from 'the model.'

"I want her pretty," Pet always said, then did an exaggerated double-take. "YAY! You DID it!"

The one engineering student on the floor showed more socializing in ten minutes than she had all semester. She constructed a camera rest from Legos and stir sticks that Pet could aim all by herself.

Then she stayed for the party 'in case it needs tweeks,' she explained as she sipped someone's wine.

Four more girls walked through rooms selecting clothes and dressed her to Pet's exacting standards.

"How about this?" one would ask.

"Ooh, that's pretty!" Pet would agree.

Finally, they were ready to start shooting. Lights, camera and snacks were adjusted and Denise had been fashioned to within an inch of her life.

A tape was slapped into the box and Denise was shoved onto her mark.

"Okay," Pet shouted, squinting at a screen nearly as long as her torso. "Dance, Denny!"

"To WHAM?" Denise protested.

"What's wrong with wham?" a girl asked from suspiciously close to the boom box.

"I don't dance to guys that have prettier hair than mine," Denise explained.

"Oh, come on, Denise," Pet pleaded. "Just have fun with it!"

"For you," Denise snarled. She started to dance. She remembered the video, the top-half twisting and clapping, the head shaking, the hair flying…

"Not that much fun," Pet shouted. Denny toned it down a bit. Flashes went off for a while.

Girls cheered.

Pet experimented with direction. "Dance the twist! Do the fly! Do the swim? And do the bird!"

Denny paused. "Wait, are you shouting the Blues Brothers at me?"

"You have a problem with Ray Charles?" Tovah asked. Denise shrugged and started dancing again.

"She's a little uptight," someone said, "even for a white chick."

"You have to relax, Denise!" Pet shouted. Denise went limp, sliding bonelessly to the floor. Someone stopped the music. She lay there like she'd been ejected by the force of the collision.

"Take her dead-girl picture, Pet," Tovah staged whispered.

"Not until she's drooling," Pet replied.

Denise parted her lips on cue. The flash went off once more.

"Did you zoom?" another girl asked.

"I, uh… I don't think we're allowed to zoom while we're away at college," Pet said slowly. "Mom said we shouldn't be experimenting, either of us."

"Oh, okay," Denise heard. "How about just shifting the focus?"

"How do I do that?" There was some discussion. Denise concentrated on a smooth trickle of drool. "Oooh, coooooool," Pet said and snapped another pic.

The music started, this time 'St. Elmo's Fire.' Denny rose and whipped her feather boa around Tovah, bringing her in to dance. Pet snapped away merrily.

There were lots of girls so they went through lots of songs. "All She Wants To Do Is Dance" was so popular, and so appropriate, Pet made them play it three times until she'd snapped everyone.

Pizza showed up because Elizabeth had noticed they were missing chow. The party continued even after Pet said there was a flashing message on her side of the camera. The memory was full. That just meant the dancing didn't have to be in front of the sight picture anymore, though they still looked to Pet for direction, like a late-80's square-dance caller.

And it meant Denny could put her real clothes on, so she snuck off to get out of the borrowed clothes. She was out of the room when Pet realized she didn't know where her owner was.

Alone in a forest of unfamiliar leg warmers, she took the most natural action. She screamed. And what she lacked in volume, she gained in piercingly high pitch.

Denny spun around and elbowed her way through the crowd of girls, all holding their ears and wondering why they hurt.

Denise reached the table with the camera turret just in time to see Pet taking a breath in for a second blast. She dropped to her knees and swept her iddle Pet up for a tight, urgent hug.

"Oh, hi, Denny!" Pet said.

-----------

Janice had a part time job at a CompUSA. The manager let them print the pics for no more than the price of the paper.

Pet turned out to be a vicious critic…of her own photography skills, that is.

"Oh, poo, I missed your smile," she would say. On the next several pictures she bemoaned the lighting, the focus, the angle or the aim.

Never with Denny, of course. Pet could NOT find fault with her favoritist owner in the whole wide world. Except on one subject.

"I wish I'd had a camera to get a pic of Happy," she sighed.

"Right," Denise said. "You really needed to drag a camera through the walls on a house-hippo safari."

Pet stuck out her bottom lip and glared at Denise for an entire 9.3 seconds. Then she smiled and forgave the big wonderful redhead. SHE knew Happy was real, and somewhere helping Tituba be a witch. So she turned to the next photo.

"Aw!"

"What?" Denise asked.

"You danced too close to the camera! I missed your face entirely.

"On the other hand," Tovah said, looking over Pet's shoulder, "you got a GREAT shot of her boobies."

"Who cares?" Pet asked.

"Don't worry, Pet," Tovah said. "Some day, someone'll want to worship at the altar that is Denise."

Pet stared and stared at the photo. "I dunno," she said. "Who could that be?"

About 400 miles away, Ray stood, thrusting himself up from the sofa and looking out the apartment window. "Surely you heard it THAT time!" he insisted.

"No, Master," Annie said, not looking up from her scroll. "Trust me, if there's a woman calling out to you, sylph hearing would definitely let me know about it. And better than you."





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