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Description
The muscular red-head strode down the street with confidence she never remembered herself having. After her long hiatus on the beach, it now felt natural to go about with her legs exposed to the sun, and after numerous hours practicing walking in heels, she had gotten the hang of that as well. She still didn't understand heels, or why anyone would want to wear them, but she could at least walk in them and knew enough to know that they were a prized commodity in most women's closets. Still in the back of her mind, she kept thinking she was already 3.32 standard deviations above average height for a woman, why did she need to appear 4.88 standard deviations above average height? There were limits after all, and since engineers only designed for plus or minus two standard deviations, going well over four just seemed silly.

Her mind trailed off. Sometimes she just didn't understand why people thought certain things. There is a limit to pushing practicality, and usually that meant being impractical. Her smile faded for a moment into a quizzical frown and the couple that had previously found themselves gawking at the 2.88 standard deviations too tall amazon suddenly shifted their gaze elsewhere.

"She's gotta be a meta." The woman whispered to her male companion.

"You think? I thought it was just Girl Friday on an afternoon stroll in the city of Angels."

"Dick!"

"Guilty as charged!" he said with a broad grin.

She rewarded him with a sharp elbow in the ribs to which he laughed before rubbing them sorely.

Sally heard none of this exchange, nor would she have understood why they were staring unless it was due to the extra deviations in height she had so concerned herself with recently, nor really understood why they would have averted their gaze so suddenly upon her stopping unless it had something to do with a cultural imperative for which she hadn't quite fully grasped yet. Her brow furrowed again and one hand attached to incredibly sculpted and muscular arm fell to her broad hip pushing down the skirt on her dress. It was a 50s style dress brought into the new century by the use of a black metallic cloth that had brilliant deep red metallic highlights when the sun glinted off it. She had found herself immediately drawn to the design when doc had shown it to her and instantly requested it be programmed as a civilian alternative to her nanite costume. The heels she wasn't sold on, but conceded to the wisdom of her father on this matter as she wasn't really opposed to it, even if she didn't fully understand their need. After all, flats were so much easier to fight in than heels. Was that the real point of heels, to impede fighting prowess and thus send a message of civility?

She filed that thought away for later speculation and resumed her pleasant walk through the city. It was a warm sunny day with a pleasant breeze that shifted the clouds above into miraculous and fantastic shapes. To the trained imagination of children, dragons, space ships, fire-breathing dinosaurs, astronauts, towering trees from mythical realms, giant shimmering fish, and all manner of other fantastic things floated by in the otherwise clear blue sky. The sun had brought more than good weather. It had brought out a city in shorts, skirts, sundresses, short sleeves, swimsuits, bikinis and any other legal means of staying cool and exposing skin. It also brought out the population in droves looking to catch a glimpse of one of the city's heroes and perhaps snag an autograph. None of this had occurred to Sally. Her mind was on catching up with an old acquaintance, perhaps dinner, a bit of math, and the odd social quirks of American culture.

It was with such thoughts in her head that she found herself walking by a patch of pavement in the road that was darker than the pavement around it. It was less worn, new even and roughly circular, ten feet in diameter, in a spot in the road that reminded her of just whom she was going to meet and how they had first met. She remembered sundering a powerful demon on just that spot and the thing from nightmare it carried as a weapon. A few steps later, she spotted a small lifeless spot in an otherwise verdant field of grass--a place where the weapon had lain and now seemed ever barren for it. It seemed that even in a city of Angels the lingering effects of demons can long reside.

Shuddering, she made her way up the steps. Long powerful legs planted firmly with each step creating a resounding clicking sound as her heels touched, and with each click, thickly muscular diamond-shaped calves flared to life. A moment later, she found herself at apartment 12b and rapped casually upon the door three times and stood, a smile upon her ruby lips, hands behind her back, bouncing up and down on her toes seemingly oblivious to the jiggling such bouncing caused.

She stood at the door for long moments bouncing happily on her toes seemingly oblivious to how long it was taking to get a response. Wrinkling her nose, she reached up one long powerful arm and a little more forcefully rapped on the door three times again. A loud booming sound greeted her ears with each rap, and again she began casually bouncing up and down her toes. Again, she seemed oblivious to the resultant jiggling.

A few seconds later, she heard a crash as if something made of porcelain, ceramic, or perhaps even glass fell to the floor. Along with the crash came an angry voice, "Just a damn minute, will you!" The voice was definitely male and tinged with just enough sarcasm to be familiar.

Sally stopped bouncing on her toes--an act that caused the voyeuristic next door neighbor in apartment 13A great consternation--as her sweet and slightly husky voice sang out, "Sir, are you OK?"

Another loud thump was accompanied by a faint moan followed by more yelling, "Who the hell is there?"

"Sir, Jules, it's Sally."

"Who in the cock-juggling blue balls! I don't know a Sally! Go away!"

The muscular woman's head turned slightly, "What is the nature of your distress, sir? Is someone in there with you? Are you under attack?"

There was a brief pause. "What? No, I'm fine. I just want to be left alone. Really, you have the wrong apartment. I honestly don't know a Sally."

"Sir, do you know an Aegis?"

This time his voice answered much quieter and more subdued, "Ahhh fuck me." A long pause followed, "Shit, be right there."

Turmoil ensued as a series of loud noises echoed from inside the apartment until the door finally opened. There was Jules, a small and very fresh bruise forming on his forehead. Stepping out and looking up, he muttered, "shit" under his breath, before pulling the door almost completely closed behind him. "Um, hi, sorry about that." His eyes quickly darted down and to the left looking down the hall. A moment later he made eye-contact again, smiling weakly, "I heard you were out of town, as in moved away, got your degree in complex physics or something and picked up a job making big bucks. Hung up your superhero spurs and everything."

Aegis' brows furrowed as her lips drew into a small frown, "No, sir. I graduated and went on vacation, but I'm back!" She said this last throwing her hands into the air and letting a big smile play across her face.

Jules smiled weakly and found himself straightening his back out and standing straight. "Yeah, so it seems. So, how's the apple guy?"

"Newton? He's falling down on the job, sir."

"Just like gravity, heh?"

"What, sir?"

"He's falling down like gravity...Newton...falling." His hand made the motion of a falling object along with a whistle, followed by a concerned look on his face, "no?"

Suddenly the blank expression on the muscular redhead towering over him changed to a smile and she winked at him.

"Sheesh, don't do that to me!" He barked.

Suddenly the blank expression returned, "What, sir?"

His eyes narrowed as his shoulders slumped slightly and his jaw fell open a little. There was another pause as a few beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. When he looked up, he saw the muscular and busty red-head bouncing on her toes again, jiggling, and found himself momentarily mesmerized at the sight. A second or two later, or perhaps longer--he couldn't be sure how long he stared--he shook his head and met her gaze, almost losing himself in those emerald-green eyes.

His words came haltingly with a distinct pause after every word, "Please stop bouncing."

She did so and moments later the vibrations ceased to propagate through her immaculately sculpted form. Her brows then furrowed and her head cocked slightly to the left, "Is something the matter, sir?"

"no, yes, well no, but thank you for standing still." Then, shaking his head and looking up again, "Did you grow on vacation?"

"No, sir. Why do you ask?"

"You look taller. A lot taller. I mean you were really tall before, but you look incredibly tall now! Are you sure you didn't grow?"

"No, sir. It's the heels. Doc insisted I should wear them as a cultural imperative for a date, but they make me look approximately 1.56 standard deviations taller than I was already."

"1.56, approximately. Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. Do you require a more accurate figure?"

Shaking his head from side to side, "No, I do not. What's a standard deviations. You know what, strike that. I don't want to know."

"Sir, why do women wear heels?"

"What? I, I don't know why women wear heels. I know why I like to see some women wearing heels."

The red-headed woman's head turned to one side as a single eyebrow raised, "Why is that, sir?"

"The right woman, in the right heel, well it makes her legs look fantastic, but everything has to line up perfectly."

"Oh, do these heels line up OK, sir?"

He paused only a moment then his head slowly rose and fell a few times, "Yes, yes, they most certainly do."

Another long pause ensued with the two standing there on the porch. She bounced once more on her toes, but quickly caught herself and stopped. A moment later her face scruched up like she was thinking about something before that radiant smile shot back over her face, "I didn't know you were into modern art, sir."

"What? I'm not a fan, why?"

She pointed beyond him, "The underwear stuck to the side of your refrigerator. I thought it might have been some modern art statement about the nature of man, sir. I'm curious, what adhesive did you use for that?"

Slowly, the door finished closing. "I ... I don't know what you are talking about."

"You have underwear stuck to your refrigerator, sir."

"Crap."

"Sir, that's just nasty."

"No! That's not it. What I meant to say was spaghetti sauce. I was just saying crap...you know what, never mind."

"Sir, you appear to be under substantial stress. Shall I return later?"

"What? No, I'm fine. Really."

"Sir, your pupils are dilated. You are sweating. Your heart rate is elevated. All are clear signs of stress in an adult citizen of Angel Falls. It also appears that a significant number of capillaries in your cornea have ruptured, however that could be caused by multiple things unrelated to your stress."

His head drooped again as he sighed deeply. "Look, you don't know how excited and terrified I am to see you right now. That's the honest truth, but can you give me, I don't know, ten minutes to straighten up?"

"Yes, sir, I can. There's a little Italian restaurant down three blocks down: Antonio's. Would you like to meet me there in say half an hour?"

"Yeah...um, let me check finances."

"I'm sorry, sir. I forget that it offends some men to be asked out. 63.7% of men prefer to make 'the first move.'" She said "the first move" by making the quotation sign with the fore and index fingers of each hand--a motion that Americans love but the rest of the world finds intensely humorous. "Did I offend with my culturally awkward question?"

One eye on the smaller man darted up as the other eye partly closed, "Which question?"

"Sir?"

"I told you not to do that."

"What, sir?"

"That."

"Yes, sir."

There was a long awkward pause in which the large woman bounced uncomfortably on her toes a couple of times. Finally Jules responded, "I would love to meet you there for dinner. I just need to go check a few things...financially, first."

"I have resources, sir. I'm not destitute."

"Yeah, well I might be."

"So, I'll meet you there. I'll pay, or is that another one of those culturally inappropriate things a woman is not supposed to suggest?" She smiled and bounced a couple more times on her toes, hands behind her back, still seemingly oblivious to the jiggling.

"Yes, and ... I'd love to meet you there. thirty minutes, got it. I'll be there or be square."

"Sir?"

"Forget it. I'll be there in thirty."

"Yes, sir."

Exhaling, Jules dove back into his apartment and slammed the door as quickly as he possibly could. The sound of something being scraped off of a metal surface was the last thing Sally heard as she bounced back down the stairs, much to the neighbor in 13a's delight.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aegis and Jules are my creations. Please ask before using either. It's not just a good idea. It's the law in Angel Falls.

This story takes place in

Description
The muscular red-head strode down the street with confidence she never remembered herself having. After her long hiatus on the beach, it now felt natural to go about with her legs exposed to the sun, and after numerous hours practicing walking in heels, she had gotten the hang of that as well. She still didn't understand heels, or why anyone would want to wear them, but she could at least walk in them and knew enough to know that they were a prized commodity in most women's closets. Still in the back of her mind, she kept thinking she was already 3.32 standard deviations above average height for a woman, why did she need to appear 4.88 standard deviations above average height? There were limits after all, and since engineers only designed for plus or minus two standard deviations, going well over four just seemed silly.

Her mind trailed off. Sometimes she just didn't understand why people thought certain things. There is a limit to pushing practicality, and usually that meant being impractical. Her smile faded for a moment into a quizzical frown and the couple that had previously found themselves gawking at the 2.88 standard deviations too tall amazon suddenly shifted their gaze elsewhere.

"She's gotta be a meta." The woman whispered to her male companion.

"You think? I thought it was just Girl Friday on an afternoon stroll in the city of Angels."

"Dick!"

"Guilty as charged!" he said with a broad grin.

She rewarded him with a sharp elbow in the ribs to which he laughed before rubbing them sorely.

Sally heard none of this exchange, nor would she have understood why they were staring unless it was due to the extra deviations in height she had so concerned herself with recently, nor really understood why they would have averted their gaze so suddenly upon her stopping unless it had something to do with a cultural imperative for which she hadn't quite fully grasped yet. Her brow furrowed again and one hand attached to incredibly sculpted and muscular arm fell to her broad hip pushing down the skirt on her dress. It was a 50s style dress brought into the new century by the use of a black metallic cloth that had brilliant deep red metallic highlights when the sun glinted off it. She had found herself immediately drawn to the design when doc had shown it to her and instantly requested it be programmed as a civilian alternative to her nanite costume. The heels she wasn't sold on, but conceded to the wisdom of her father on this matter as she wasn't really opposed to it, even if she didn't fully understand their need. After all, flats were so much easier to fight in than heels. Was that the real point of heels, to impede fighting prowess and thus send a message of civility?

She filed that thought away for later speculation and resumed her pleasant walk through the city. It was a warm sunny day with a pleasant breeze that shifted the clouds above into miraculous and fantastic shapes. To the trained imagination of children, dragons, space ships, fire-breathing dinosaurs, astronauts, towering trees from mythical realms, giant shimmering fish, and all manner of other fantastic things floated by in the otherwise clear blue sky. The sun had brought more than good weather. It had brought out a city in shorts, skirts, sundresses, short sleeves, swimsuits, bikinis and any other legal means of staying cool and exposing skin. It also brought out the population in droves looking to catch a glimpse of one of the city's heroes and perhaps snag an autograph. None of this had occurred to Sally. Her mind was on catching up with an old acquaintance, perhaps dinner, a bit of math, and the odd social quirks of American culture.

It was with such thoughts in her head that she found herself walking by a patch of pavement in the road that was darker than the pavement around it. It was less worn, new even and roughly circular, ten feet in diameter, in a spot in the road that reminded her of just whom she was going to meet and how they had first met. She remembered sundering a powerful demon on just that spot and the thing from nightmare it carried as a weapon. A few steps later, she spotted a small lifeless spot in an otherwise verdant field of grass--a place where the weapon had lain and now seemed ever barren for it. It seemed that even in a city of Angels the lingering effects of demons can long reside.

Shuddering, she made her way up the steps. Long powerful legs planted firmly with each step creating a resounding clicking sound as her heels touched, and with each click, thickly muscular diamond-shaped calves flared to life. A moment later, she found herself at apartment 12b and rapped casually upon the door three times and stood, a smile upon her ruby lips, hands behind her back, bouncing up and down on her toes seemingly oblivious to the jiggling such bouncing caused.

She stood at the door for long moments bouncing happily on her toes seemingly oblivious to how long it was taking to get a response. Wrinkling her nose, she reached up one long powerful arm and a little more forcefully rapped on the door three times again. A loud booming sound greeted her ears with each rap, and again she began casually bouncing up and down her toes. Again, she seemed oblivious to the resultant jiggling.

A few seconds later, she heard a crash as if something made of porcelain, ceramic, or perhaps even glass fell to the floor. Along with the crash came an angry voice, "Just a damn minute, will you!" The voice was definitely male and tinged with just enough sarcasm to be familiar.

Sally stopped bouncing on her toes--an act that caused the voyeuristic next door neighbor in apartment 13A great consternation--as her sweet and slightly husky voice sang out, "Sir, are you OK?"

Another loud thump was accompanied by a faint moan followed by more yelling, "Who the hell is there?"

"Sir, Jules, it's Sally."

"Who in the cock-juggling blue balls! I don't know a Sally! Go away!"

The muscular woman's head turned slightly, "What is the nature of your distress, sir? Is someone in there with you? Are you under attack?"

There was a brief pause. "What? No, I'm fine. I just want to be left alone. Really, you have the wrong apartment. I honestly don't know a Sally."

"Sir, do you know an Aegis?"

This time his voice answered much quieter and more subdued, "Ahhh fuck me." A long pause followed, "Shit, be right there."

Turmoil ensued as a series of loud noises echoed from inside the apartment until the door finally opened. There was Jules, a small and very fresh bruise forming on his forehead. Stepping out and looking up, he muttered, "shit" under his breath, before pulling the door almost completely closed behind him. "Um, hi, sorry about that." His eyes quickly darted down and to the left looking down the hall. A moment later he made eye-contact again, smiling weakly, "I heard you were out of town, as in moved away, got your degree in complex physics or something and picked up a job making big bucks. Hung up your superhero spurs and everything."

Aegis' brows furrowed as her lips drew into a small frown, "No, sir. I graduated and went on vacation, but I'm back!" She said this last throwing her hands into the air and letting a big smile play across her face.

Jules smiled weakly and found himself straightening his back out and standing straight. "Yeah, so it seems. So, how's the apple guy?"

"Newton? He's falling down on the job, sir."

"Just like gravity, heh?"

"What, sir?"

"He's falling down like gravity...Newton...falling." His hand made the motion of a falling object along with a whistle, followed by a concerned look on his face, "no?"

Suddenly the blank expression on the muscular redhead towering over him changed to a smile and she winked at him.

"Sheesh, don't do that to me!" He barked.

Suddenly the blank expression returned, "What, sir?"

His eyes narrowed as his shoulders slumped slightly and his jaw fell open a little. There was another pause as a few beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. When he looked up, he saw the muscular and busty red-head bouncing on her toes again, jiggling, and found himself momentarily mesmerized at the sight. A second or two later, or perhaps longer--he couldn't be sure how long he stared--he shook his head and met her gaze, almost losing himself in those emerald-green eyes.

His words came haltingly with a distinct pause after every word, "Please stop bouncing."

She did so and moments later the vibrations ceased to propagate through her immaculately sculpted form. Her brows then furrowed and her head cocked slightly to the left, "Is something the matter, sir?"

"no, yes, well no, but thank you for standing still." Then, shaking his head and looking up again, "Did you grow on vacation?"

"No, sir. Why do you ask?"

"You look taller. A lot taller. I mean you were really tall before, but you look incredibly tall now! Are you sure you didn't grow?"

"No, sir. It's the heels. Doc insisted I should wear them as a cultural imperative for a date, but they make me look approximately 1.56 standard deviations taller than I was already."

"1.56, approximately. Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir. Do you require a more accurate figure?"

Shaking his head from side to side, "No, I do not. What's a standard deviations. You know what, strike that. I don't want to know."

"Sir, why do women wear heels?"

"What? I, I don't know why women wear heels. I know why I like to see some women wearing heels."

The red-headed woman's head turned to one side as a single eyebrow raised, "Why is that, sir?"

"The right woman, in the right heel, well it makes her legs look fantastic, but everything has to line up perfectly."

"Oh, do these heels line up OK, sir?"

He paused only a moment then his head slowly rose and fell a few times, "Yes, yes, they most certainly do."

Another long pause ensued with the two standing there on the porch. She bounced once more on her toes, but quickly caught herself and stopped. A moment later her face scruched up like she was thinking about something before that radiant smile shot back over her face, "I didn't know you were into modern art, sir."

"What? I'm not a fan, why?"

She pointed beyond him, "The underwear stuck to the side of your refrigerator. I thought it might have been some modern art statement about the nature of man, sir. I'm curious, what adhesive did you use for that?"

Slowly, the door finished closing. "I ... I don't know what you are talking about."

"You have underwear stuck to your refrigerator, sir."

"Crap."

"Sir, that's just nasty."

"No! That's not it. What I meant to say was spaghetti sauce. I was just saying crap...you know what, never mind."

"Sir, you appear to be under substantial stress. Shall I return later?"

"What? No, I'm fine. Really."

"Sir, your pupils are dilated. You are sweating. Your heart rate is elevated. All are clear signs of stress in an adult citizen of Angel Falls. It also appears that a significant number of capillaries in your cornea have ruptured, however that could be caused by multiple things unrelated to your stress."

His head drooped again as he sighed deeply. "Look, you don't know how excited and terrified I am to see you right now. That's the honest truth, but can you give me, I don't know, ten minutes to straighten up?"

"Yes, sir, I can. There's a little Italian restaurant down three blocks down: Antonio's. Would you like to meet me there in say half an hour?"

"Yeah...um, let me check finances."

"I'm sorry, sir. I forget that it offends some men to be asked out. 63.7% of men prefer to make 'the first move.'" She said "the first move" by making the quotation sign with the fore and index fingers of each hand--a motion that Americans love but the rest of the world finds intensely humorous. "Did I offend with my culturally awkward question?"

One eye on the smaller man darted up as the other eye partly closed, "Which question?"

"Sir?"

"I told you not to do that."

"What, sir?"

"That."

"Yes, sir."

There was a long awkward pause in which the large woman bounced uncomfortably on her toes a couple of times. Finally Jules responded, "I would love to meet you there for dinner. I just need to go check a few things...financially, first."

"I have resources, sir. I'm not destitute."

"Yeah, well I might be."

"So, I'll meet you there. I'll pay, or is that another one of those culturally inappropriate things a woman is not supposed to suggest?" She smiled and bounced a couple more times on her toes, hands behind her back, still seemingly oblivious to the jiggling.

"Yes, and ... I'd love to meet you there. thirty minutes, got it. I'll be there or be square."

"Sir?"

"Forget it. I'll be there in thirty."

"Yes, sir."

Exhaling, Jules dove back into his apartment and slammed the door as quickly as he possibly could. The sound of something being scraped off of a metal surface was the last thing Sally heard as she bounced back down the stairs, much to the neighbor in 13a's delight.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aegis and Jules are my creations. Please ask before using either. It's not just a good idea. It's the law in Angel Falls.

This story takes place in