Annie CLXVI: Manipulated





(Chronological index: Ray and Denise dating, getting serious)

Ray signed off of CompuServe and went to find the sylphs. His girlfriend’s training was over and she was headed to pick up her favoritist sylph.

He found Pet almost the instant he came out of the computer room. The little blond was sitting, alone, on the sylph-stand in front of the TV, staring at the screen. The TV was off. Annie was nowhere in sight.

“Pet? Is something wrong?” he asked. He moved to sit in the sofa next to the table.

She turned slowly to face him, the very illustration of ‘morose.’

“No,” she sighed.

“Even I know that isn’t true,” he said. He offered a palm and she slogged over to collapse onto it. He moved her close to his chest and pet her. “Denise is on her way here,” he said. “She grabbed a change of clothes at your house and she’ll be on the road even as we speak.”

“Yay,” Pet said without passion. Ray suddenly wished he’d invested in that sylph-sized thermometer. Was she sick?

“What did Annie say?” he guessed.

“She wants me to be more manipulated.”

“No, she does not,” Ray said instantly. “But maybe she wants you more manipulating?”

“That,” Pet agreed.

“And that’s a problem?”

“That’s like cheating, Ray! I don’t wanna manipulating Denise! I don’t NEED to!”

“Well, of course you don’t,” Ray agreed. He hugged her a bit with two fingers, then stroked her head some more. “You know,” he said after a minute, “Annie has two main reasons to manipulate me.”

“She does?” Pet asked, instantly followed by “And you know it?”

“She’s been doing it for more than ten years,” he said. “Even someone as dumb as an owner notices that. Eventually.”

Pet giggled at his use of Annie’s characterization of humans that subjugated obviously superior sylphs.

“Yeah,” he went on. “See, sometimes she manipulates me to get things I don’t want to give her.”

“Like chocolate!” Pet said.

Ray nodded. “Or a musical. Or three point two seven times her weight in ice cream.” Pet giggled at the exactitude. She was supposed to, so Ray smiled.

“But sometimes, she manipulates me to get something I DO want to give her.”

That confused his little guest. “What would that be?”

“Attention, mostly. When I’m doing something I think is important, but it means I’m not paying sufficient attention to one of the most important people in my life.

“Or if it’s cold and I haven’t thought to pick her up and cuddle her next to a major artery or another source of bodily warmth.” Pet smiled and sighed, eyes on the hollow of the giant’s throat.

They sat there for a moment, each lost in their thoughts.

“But why,” she finally asked, “does she have to manipulating you for something you’d give her if she was just to come out and ask straight off for it?”

“Well, it IS Annie,” he pointed out. Pet giggled at that. “Also, the Annie Giant Training Method served a purpose beyond just proving that Annie is ABLE to manipulate me.”

He settled down in his seat and let Pet sit upon his flat chest.

The sylph’s eyes were huge, big as LEDs. “You KNOW about the Annie Giant Training Method?”

“She told me all about it,” Ray said with a nod. Pet looked skeptical. “There may have been alcohol involved,” he added.

“How much?”

“She soaked a raisin in my margarita when she thought I wasn’t looking. Then she ate that and started explaining the Universe to me.

“AGTM was the…” He counted on his fingers. “Fourth thing she explained.”

Before Pet could ask, he lifted a finger, counting the first three off.

“First, SHE explained MY fascination with redheads.” He smiled. “I had seen her as a brunette and as a platinum blonde, but never as a redhead. That was essentially me living a fantasy of escapism, the one place I could go that wasn’t already inhabited by the formidable Annie.”

“Makes sense,” Pet allowed. “So you love Denny because she’s not Annie.”

“No, Pet, I love Denise because she’s Denise. Same way I love Annie because she’s Annie. And I love you because you’re…” He paused as one trying to remember the next word.

“ME!” she shouted cheerfully.

“No, you’re not me,” he teased with a perfectly straight face.

“No, I’m not you,” she agreed. “I’m me.”

“You can’t say you’re me, I’m me. I’m the only me I’ve ever known.”

“Oh,” she said with a sage nod. “I’m me, you’re a dee-eye-sea-kay.”

“Well played, little me,” he acknowledged. She preened under the compliment.

“ANYWAY,” he said, “Drunk Annie went on to explain why sylphs have the best morals.”

“Pure hearts?” Pet guessed.

“Total inability to wield a high-caliber gun to assist with the forces of disorder.” He smiled. “Though it took her six tries to say ‘disorder’ that night.” He smiled wider when he saw Pet’s lips move as she practiced slurring ‘disorder.’

“Then she explained why we needed to stock up on raisins. And ordered me to give her one, then NOT look at my drink for a while.”

“Drunk Annie’s a hoot!” Pet said.

“Depends on her mood when she starts knocking back the dried fruit,” he said. “Then finally she explained how, and WHY, she manipulates me into giving her stuff.”

“Why? Why, why, why?”

“She’s trying to train me. If she just SAYS that it’s time to pay attention to Annie, then I have no reason to ever think about Annie.

“I release all responsibility for my schedule to her, and she has the burden.”

“She likes having all the responsibility, doesn’t she?” Pet asked.

“She likes having all the POWER,” Ray corrected her. “Minions should be shouldering the responsibility.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. So, she usually tries to convince me that it’s my idea to put everything down and give her a bath, or stop playing the computer and take her to a movie.

“Or stop talking to a guest…” He reached down to the floor next to his ankle and without looking, plucked Annie up from the carpet. “And talk to my pet. Hey, Annie.”

“I never got drunk enough to explain my method to you!” Annie protested. "And you don't drink margaritas."

“No,” he agreed. She smiled, vindicated and having caught her master out in a lie. He went on to say, “You explained all this to Mom on a girl’s night out.” Annie deflated like a balloon. “MOM was still drunk when I spread you across the drunk hammock, so she explained ALLLLLL of it to me.”

He let that settle for a second. “And then she started to list all of the women she knew who had red hair. All of them her age…”

“Oh, God,” Annie moaned. “I’m surprised THAT never came up again.”

“If it did,” Ray said, “ I shoved a pencil in my brain and lobotomized the entire memory.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two, Ray smiling down on Annie who was curling up and blushing. Pet looked from face to face, finally raising her hand.

“Yes, Pet?” Ray invited her.

“What’s a drunk hammock?” she asked.

“I stretch a plastic mesh over a tub or a bucket,” he said. “Then I lay Annie over the mesh. She sleeps there and if she… Um.”

“Barfs,” Annie muttered.

“Yeah, that. It falls down through the mesh so she won’t choke on it. Makes clean-up easier.”

He leaned back, looking aside. “Annie was old enough to drink about five years before I was. I was better at tending drunks than I was at drinking until well into college.”

“He’s still better at tending than at drinking,” Annie told Pet. Pet giggled at both that line and at Ray’s excessively wounded expression.

“One night, he decided he wanted to drive home but he was so drunk he had to crawl down the sidewalk to the car.

“I guided him into the backseat, where he picked up a pizza-box and used it as a steering wheel.”

“I suppose I went vroom, vroom?” Ray asked.

“No,” Annie said. “-I- made engine and brake sounds while you steered, until you asked, ‘Where are we?’ then belched for twenty seconds, and passed out.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Wait, is that the morning I woke up in Jeffrey’s car?”

“That’s the one!” she agreed. “I wasn’t taking ANY risk your car keys would reach you ignition, not that night.

“Not after you tried to drink the guy in the mirror under the table…”

“Okay, official owner command to change the topic,” Ray said pompously.

Annie spun to grab Pet in a hug. “And I am SO proud of you, being brave enough to call my Master a dick!”

“I didn’t!” Pet protested (though she didn’t try to resist the hug).

“You did,” Ray said. “I was quite impressed as well.”

“I DIDN’T!!” she insisted. “I would never DO that!”

“That’s true,” Annie said to Ray. “She’s, like, the least likely person in Florida to call you a dick, and I’m including Mickey and Minnie Mouse.”

“You ssssson of a bish!” Ray said.

“That’s Donald Duck’s voice,” Annie criticized.

“I can’t do Mickey,” he explained.

“That would explain it.” She tapped her chin for a moment, watching Pet. “Sweetie, what is it that you think ‘dee-eye-see-kay’ spells?”

“I don’t know,” Pet shrugged. “It’s what Carol says to Chuck when he’s teasing poor little sylphs.”

“Okay,” the older sylph nodded. “Well, just as a suggestion, maybe you’d better let Carol take possession of that word. It’ll get you in trouble.”

“Okay,” Pet said. She still didn’t quite relax.

“You’re not in trouble NOW,” Ray told her. “I was teasing a sylph.”

“A poor, little, defenseless sylph,” Annie corrected him. He nodded to acknowledge her point.

Then he cleared his throat. Annie’s whole demeanor changed to a defensive crouch. “Annie, are you trying to talk Pet into asking for more hugs or something?” he asked.

“Well, um, well, you see,” Annie flustered, waving her hands. “You’ve seen them! After we get back from a movie, she puts her down on the armrest and she just sits there! No hugs, no touches, no BANTER! I don’t think I could STAND it if you and I didn’t banter!”

“That’s what you call the fighting?” Pet asked softly. Annie didn’t seem to hear her.

“Well, that’s how we roll,” Ray nodded. “That’s not how EVERYONE has to roll, though. Maybe Pet just likes proximity the way you like an exchange of ideas.”

He took a breath, then owner and sylph both turned to explain ‘proximity’ to Pet.

She squealed happily.

“You like being close all that much, huh?” Ray smiled.

“NO! No, it’s the way you two don’t talk down to me, but you also won’t forget to keep me in the conversation because you both know I’m not that smart.”

“Yes you ARE!” Annie insisted. “Not knowing words is a matter of education, not smarts. You’re as smart as I am.”

“I s’pose,” Pet said quietly.

“That’s true,” Ray said. “It never takes you more than one explanation to follow Annie’s ideas, does it?”

“No,” she said, not quite as quietly.

“Then shut up about not having the smarts, kid,” Annie decreed.

“Okay,” Pet said happily.

“Now, about the manipulation,” Ray said.

“Here it comes,” Annie muttered.

“Annie, I’d take it as a personal favor if you would not try to alter Pet and Denise’s relationship to match your standards of giant training.”

For all that he phrased it as a request, Annie heard a clear order. She rose up as straight as she could manage and returned a salute. He nodded, his own expression severe. Then he relaxed. “On the other hand, there’s no reason you can’t finely calibrate MY relationship with miss Pet."

“Ooooooh, Pet!” Annie cooed. “You know, if you shiver just a little bit, Ray thinks you’re cold and holds you up to his pulse to warm you up.”

“But what if I’m not cold?”

“Well, why else would you shiver?”

“Scared, maybe.”

“And then a big giant hand will lift you up to a warm, safe spot.”

“Oh. OH!” She clutched her own tiny shoulders. “Brr,” she practiced. “And brr.”

-----

Denise let herself into her boyfriend’s home without knocking

She knew that Ray understood that rules of personal territory were modified when Pet was already on the territory.

He treated Annie’s location in the same manner.

She found him in the kitchen, stirring a pot of melted chocolate with a sliver of apple. He smiled at her and laid the fruit down on wax paper.

There was a string of dipped slivers arrayed across the paper. At the end of the line, Annie judged the 10th piece to have cooled enough for tiny people to eat.

They paused to greet Denise’s arrival. She kissed Ray, blowing a kiss to the chocolate-covered sylphs.

“Did you dip them in the chocolate?” she asked him.

“No!” Pet called. “We’re on our second sliver of chocolate-dipped-apple-slivers! And you can’t eat chocolate-dipped-apple-slivers if you’re afraid of getting chocolate on your hands.”

“And face,” Ray added.

“And arms and clothes and legs,” Denise noted. She sighed theatrically. “I suppose if I’m going to touch you, I have to have a protective layer of my own.” She reached for a sliver.

Ray pointed to a plate where three fourths of the original apple was cut into wedges, rather than slivers.

He took one and stirred the pot. Denise followed his lead.

Some time later, she put down the towel and picked up her sylph. “So what are you guys up to?”

“Spoiling them rotten,” Ray said, taking up his own pet. She purred and curled up on his palm. He bowed Denise out the door. She led the way to the living room sofa.

Once there, Ray watched as she kissed and finger-hugged Pet, then set the sylph down on the armrest. Pet lay on her belly, chin in her hands, gazing adoringly up at her owner.

Then Denise turned to snuggle with her boyfriend.

“See?” Annie muttered from his shoulder.

“No banter,” Ray said, an aside as he leaned in for the snuggling.

“No what?” Denise asked.

“Banter. The verbal back and forth that Annie and I share,” he explained. She blinked, confused.

“He means the fighting,” Pet shouted.

“Is that what you call it?” Denise asked with a smile.

“If there was fighting,” Ray explained carefully, “there would be a winner and a loser.”

“Then,” Denise pointed out, “since Annie usually wins…”

“Yeah!” Annie agreed.

“Not going to fight about this,” Ray muttered.

“Well, no,” Annie said, “since you already lost.”

“ANYWAY,” Ray said. They kissed for a bit. Both humans ignored the steps Annie took, jumping from shoulder to shoulder, then down Denise’s back to the armrest. She sat by Pet.

“Do you feel marginalized AT ALL?” Annie asked.

“Denny’s mom always uses butter,” Pet said, eyes still on the adorable couple. “Says it’s more authentic that way.”

Annie thought about correcting her, then decided to let herself be sidetracked. “Moms,” she sighed. “They don’t always get everything right, but the know what things HAVE to be right.”

They shared a smile. The humans finally broke for air and leaned back.

Ray glanced over at the pets.

“So, Denise, do you have any regrets about ignoring Pet for the time you’re kissing me?”

“But I don’t ignore Pet!” Denise protested. “I always know EXACTLY where she is. And if she needs me for anything.” She explained how her grades had begun to tank when she first became the official owner of Pet.

“I paid TOO MUCH attention to her, not enough to homework.”

“Or chores!” Pet called. “I remember that lecture!”

“Dad did hit that one out of the park,” Denise agreed. She gave a shudder at the memory. “Anyway, I was also smothering Pet. I wouldn’t let her do anything at all. I moved her, I fed her, I dressed her… If I had my way, I’d have caused all her muscles to die from disuse!”

“That would be bad,” Ray nodded. “So what did you do?”

“Pet and I figured out exactly how much hugging and petting she nee-“

“And tickling!” Pet squealed. Denise didn’t pause, but her hand started creeping like a spider across the sofa. Annie and Pet couldn’t miss its approach.

Pet bit her lip, bouncing slightly where she lay in anticipation. Annie scrambled up the armrest to the back of the sofa, out of the target area.

“Needed,” Denise continued smoothly. “And maybe a little more, a sort of a fudge factor.”

“A safety margin,” Ray nodded.

“Exactly.” Her hand reached the back of the armrest, fingers bent as if coiled to spring. Her middle finger waved around like a questing antenna.

“So, with that baseline established, I was able to do homework, or the dishes…” The finger froze, pointed in Pet’s direction.

“And she was by me, where she could see me, and call for me, and always in arms- REACH!” The hand pounced, the sylph screamed. Annie shook her head, smiling at the glee Pet was obviously demonstrating.

Then the hand fell from behind Denise’s head, grabbing her in irresistible fingers.

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