Author's Rating: X for Erotic Sex, non-human

Author's Note: Sort of a flip-side to "Pigman's Playground" here. The events of this story occur nearly three years later. Cerise is out of the Skin Trade, having been betrayed and sold to Karma Director Anton Koslov by another undercover Cloak Agent, Trent Morgan. After a period of time, she was recovered by Cloak's Thom Jagger and Lynn Nero, put through therapy and given time to recover, and eventually re-instated as an Operative to prove herself again. Chase is a Vevaphon specifically designed for Cloak and they know each other through Jagger and Nero. All these characters are used with the permission of Rob Wood, as this background is his presentation as my GM. This story is simply a bit of fun, imagining the possibilities and the many oddities in exploring the Vevaphon as it was originally created in SLA: as a biogenetic sex toy, before eventually becoming a new Stormer infiltrator for the Company's operations.

Chasing Cerise

The Frother had been a bit moodier and depressed. He usually saw clanmates every few days at the least and it’s now going on a week. A different kind of withdrawal.

Cerise knew Camran needed an evening off; he needed to go to the Pit to see his brothers, drink with them, to remind himself what it was to be a Frother. She could see it and felt guilty for mother-henning him so much, scaring him into staying home and staying partnered up all week whenever they had a break, she herself practically wanting to attach squadmates to teach others’ hips for safety...

She sighed and started thinking about the reason for the caution, the paranoia. She'd done a good job of giving Morgan no opportunity this first week since he’d left his message on the answering machine. None at all. Zip, zilch, zero.

And she knew him. She could guess that things might escalate soon to spread around those protecting her, if she were truly behind a fortress. She could be forcing his hand sooner than he otherwise might act. He could attack one of them, but not her, out of sheer frustration and a desire to “punish” her…he would justify it somehow. But what were the alternatives?

Relax the guard a bit, maybe. Start hinting at openings and opportunities that might be predictable but aren’t. Delay the action a bit until I know more, maybe to set a trap. Stop looking so damned scared by clinging to the squad...

She could make sure Camran got in the cab okay, and he'd be pretty safe at the Pit as long as he stayed in the Sinkhole. And...then what? She would stay here alone? And do what, paperwork? She'd never be able to concentrate...

Cerise didn't feel prepared to go out tonight. There was relaxing one’s guard, and then there was being stupid. But she didn't have to stay here alone and she was getting an idea. Someone could come to her, someone who was not an easy target for Morgan. She'd be changing her “lock down” routine, seeming to open up the security, to socialize a bit like she used to...though inviting a Vevaphon Agent to share some company wasn't exactly leaving the door unlocked and the window open after going to bed.

She recalled the unique, enticing kiss Chase had offered a couple days ago, that she’d accepted almost on a dare. She had been tired of feeling nervous around the Stormer, of his oddities, because of her previous hellish experience with Goya, a rather insane Vev hanging around Roman at one time. As she kissed him, his “mouth” had trembled much more subtly, managing to oscillate and caress her tongue and lips at the same time, and he’d tasted like chocolate and cayenne. Not only had that kiss been surprisingly pleasant but then he had spoken more about things that were coded in his programming that he was more than willing to do. He was designed to please. The idea of a play-chase, maybe a massage, not to menton some very clever, sensual antics of which he boasted still intrigued her. And she could believe he wasn’t lying just to impress her. She smiled to herself, flushed suddenly at the image of an expandable, adjustable vibrator servicing her tonight and squeezed her thighs together with the tingling response.

Chase was something new for her; a marvelous distraction, mutual stress relief, no strings attached, and probably the only possible partner right now that she didn't have to worry about being ambushed by Morgan. Her nemesis would be in for a very nasty surprise if he tried. Resistant to drugs, impossible to tie up, hard as hell to shoot dead, quick and deadly with those barbs and talons and teeth...and he was custom-made for Cloak. Even as both a hunter and interrogator in their keeping, the Vev was certainly allowed to play; it increased his experience with humans and his usefulness to his masters. It was a perfect change-up of her routine, of seeming vulnerability (just inviting a man into her apartment to share the evening, right?), without actually being vulnerable in reality.

“Hey, Camran,” she began as she enters the living room where he was watching TV. “Why don’t you go out and hit Sinkhole tonight? I know you could use the break.”

The muscular Frother raised an eyebrow in protest but it was immediately clear he’d love to go. “You sure, lass? I don’t wanna leave you alone, just in case.”

"You need to see your buddies," she said. "And it's not really right to let paranoia control one's everyday things. I feel bad for letting it go on like this. It shouldn't."

Camran’s smiled as a light bulb came on. “You know, you could come with me to meet my mates,” he said. “They love to party and not all of it’s drugs and booze. Might meet a few fun people and the great thing – none of ‘em are related to me by blood!”

Cerise chuckled affectionately at her roommate, but knew she hadn't really gotten a grip yet on how she should behave around her squadmates during downtime with her leading the squad. How much to let her hair down? With a mass of Frothers...it could easily be pushed to 'all the way'. Maybe she understood a bit of the hesitation to cut loose in public now, acting like a complete party girl in front of someone she was supposed to lead in the field. Maybe more difficult to take seriously? It was hard enough just as a pretty blonde, and it was a conflict she hadn't come to terms with yet, and wasn't quite ready to. Even aside from that...she simply wasn't in much of a mood to go out just to be in a crunch of people; she needed to recharge some other way.

She shook her head gently. "Not tonight. My head's still trying to catch up from Bethlehem and everything else. Feel a bit messed up and need to relax here, put things in order. Like you need to put things right again how you're comfortable. I don't think I'd be great company tonight but I appreciate the offer.”

He looked at her for a few moments, hesitating still at leaving her. Without warning, he rose off the couch and stepped close, gently wrapping his arms around her in a hug. He squeezed gently, careful not to bruise, and nuzzled his stubbly cheek against her temple.

Cerise drew in breath in surprise, smelling a scent she could only describe at the moment as 'chaotic' (like many Frothers in dire need of their drug of choice), but responded to hug him back. She smiled a bit at his nuzzle. Small stuff like this after escaping Anton’s chains…it was so simple and yet she had missed it so, ached for an affectionate hug once in a while.

When Camran pulled back, he looked at her eyes and cupped her face in his hands as she looked back at him. His eyes were a warm, tawny brown rather like the honey-brown of his dreads which were certainly well cared for. He did have a handsome face though he looked older than his twenty-four years from the UV.

“Why don’t cha come with me?” he asked, nearly pleading. “Either that or I’m not goin’. You’re not gonna be alone with that…bastard out there somewhere in the rain.”

She brought her hands up to touch his. Taking his concern seriously and realizing she couldn't get away with inviting Chase over in complete secrecy, she said, "You're right, Camran, I still shouldn't be alone all night. I was thinking of inviting over a friend to keep me company. He said I could call him anytime for a visit. He's part of the same Cloak unit that's hunting Morgan, so he knows all about him and would certainly make this place as safe as it needs to be."

The Frother raised an eyebrow and in doing so, his smile became mischievous. “Ah, so…you just want me outta the way then? Why dinnae ye say so?”

Cerise laughed. She hadn't really thought of calling Chase until after she realized Camran needed to see his mates. "No...honestly, Camran. You need to get out but I really don't want to be put through the Frother Fun Time wringer tonight...but I need someone to stay with me while you're gone. Trust me, a Cloak Agent is just the ticket."

Camran became more serious. “You sure you can trust ‘im?”

She nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. Inspector Jagger is his supervisor. You remember, the big, angry bald guy? My friend would get killed if he let his guard down and something happened to me. Plus he likes me anyway. I can trust him."

Camran nodded and kissed her gently on the forehead then put his forehead to hers.  

Oh... Surprised yet again, Cerise still relaxed against him, enjoying the closeness. She’d seen Frothers do this before with those they considered family, which inadvertently showed her how he was viewing her now. She'd always envied the sense of family and brotherhood among the Mac Chormaigs and the Clans in general. She'd never had that with her family...add on top of that the isolation and abuse of the last year, and she did want someone to care, wanted “pack” protection, to not be alone again on the fringe.

She smiled at Camran when he tilted his head back up. Thanks.

“Alright then,” he said. “Just keep a weapon near and me on speed dial, okay? If there’s trouble, I’ll have twenty of me mates here.”

Cerise’s smile broadened, rather liking the mental image of a mass of colorful Frothers charging into the building... "You got it. And thanks. Go and do your own thing," she said. "Hope you have a great time, you deserve the release after this hell of a week."

Camran nodded. “I’ll be back tomorrow or…maybe the day after,” he said, then chuckled. “These things are really fun. Wish you were coming.”

"I'll see you later, Camran. I'll even have a sleep mask ready for you." She grinned.

He snickered and followed it with a wince at the memory of a particularly bad hangover. “Aye, I’ll need it,” he said. “Lemme grab a few things.”

“’Kay. I’ll walk you down.”

The 313 Clint, who was the doorman for their apartment building, waved as the cab pulled away. It was odd, she realized, when she saw he was now wearing Blocker armor over his uniform and carrying firearms.

“Dat weird greaseball guy hahn’t come back,” he said. “But I’m reddy for ‘im.”

He patted his FEN AR affectionately.

Cerise smiled somewhat, a bit confused. The “greaseball” was Clint’s name for Morgan, the one time he had been seen sniffing around their place. "Ah...ahem, I see. That's cool. Why...um, why are you rigged up? Did security get upped by the building manager or something?"

He nodded. “Yah, me and Tank tok’d ‘bout it an we dessided we outta look out for truble. Yah.”

"Oh? You talked about it...Has there been other trouble for another resident or something?"

“Nah, no trubble,” he said. “Jus being careful iz all.”

"Ah," she said again, still not sure she was following but supposing she should get back upstairs and call Chase. She wasn’t sure how she felt about a doorman with an assault rifle in this neighborhood. "Well, take care of yourself, too. The flipside of carrying a weapon is there's always a chance someone could take it from you."

The 313 grinned widely. “Let ‘em try,” he said happily. “Ahm Kick Mudder.”

So is he. She waved as she headed back to her floor, grabbing her phone soon after she locked the door behind her. She had all evening free.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Chase answered on the second ring, taking a moment to ID the call and then fitting the handset where he could speak. Someone mumbled and muttered in the background, suddenly sounding like they were fighting for air.

“Hi, Cerise,” the Vev said happily. “How is life in the Operative World?”

"Hello, Chase. The usual, I think," she replied easily.

“Shit, I’m so…so sorry,” he said wryly.

"I'm not. Always was my excuse for calling the numbers on the cards I get.” Her grin could be heard through the phone. "But it’s been nose to the grind and I need a break. It sounds like you're wrestling a bit with your time as well," she added, idly wondering who was attached to his other tentacle.

Chase laughed with a touch of glee at the sign that she wanted to play. “Nah, just tying up some loose ends,” he said, responding in kind.

"No doubt. Well, I'm in a good mood tonight. I can even say I'm in the mood for a good chase." She chuckled with an inward groan at repeating his own bad joke back at him to flirt, but at least it was something she knew he understood. "Might you be up to giving me one?”

“Mmm,” he purred, a sound not unlike a woodwind as the Karma flesh vibrated in whatever construct he was using as a throat. “I would love to. Where do we meet?”

"I'd like you to come to my place, if that's alright."

“It’s not in a bad section of town, is it?” he asked with mock aghast. “I’m very careful about such things!” After a bare pause on her end, “No, really, I’d like that. I know where it is. Nice digs, by the way.”  

Nice digs? "Mm, I take it you might've been with Lynn on one of her little drop-ins?" She didn't sound upset so much as curious.

“Yeppers,” he replied lightly. “Security and stalk-term are my specialties and I needed his scent. Didn’t find much but…I do know your roomie’s scent pretty well now.”  

His scent. "Hm, so...Morgan has been inside, then?"

“Do you really want me to tell you that?” he asked, though it wasn’t exactly the stern warning she was used to from her Cloak contacts when she really “didn’t” want to know.

Cerise gave it a second to consider then realized she was already sure that he had been. No evidence, but...she just knew him. "Yes, I do."

“Yes, he has been,” he answered readily. “But your building security’s been heavily upgraded since then.”

To include Clint with an AR? she wondered. But no, she didn’t figure that was Cloak’s doing exactly, though it would explain Tank and Clint “talking” about being ready, if they were watching security upgrades all week. She frowned somewhat. What a wet-blanket to think about now… “Okay. Anyway, how long before you’ll be able to drop by?”

“I can be there in,” he began and thought aloud. “…hmm, this will take nine minutes and thirty seconds, traffic is forty-five to fifty-nine minutes this time of day per 899 metrics…say about an hour?”

Cerise started chuckling audibly about halfway through.

“What?” the Vev asked, sounding like he was smiling. “Why are you laughing?”

"Your matrix is showing," she teased. "Now I'll have to time you just to see if Chaos Theory fucks it up. Just enough time for me to shower and get ready, though. Is there anything I should have available for you to eat?”

“Yes,” he said that woodwind purr again. “You.”

She laughed. “Well, that’s a given. Anything else? I know Stormers eat a lot. Wouldn't want you to become fatigued too soon."

“You should be more concerned about yourself,” he said. “You know what they say – once you go Vat, you never got back!” Chase made a snorting sound as Cerise groaned with an eyeroll. “God, that is as bad as when I heard it…”

"Yeah, it is. Except that I've always gone back. And around, and sideways. I like widening my dating pool."

“I do admire flexibility in organics.”

"One of my better qualities."

“I can’t wait to explore how flexible you are. And I’ll bring my own sustenance but I’m good for about six hours as it is.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Fuck, Chase, get off the damn phone and hold the son of a bitch!” a woman snarled on the other end and Cerise realized with a start that it was Meg.

“Okay, okay,” he said, then muttered into the phone, “All work and no play makes a woman who is desperately in need of a good fuck, even more desperate for a good fuck…”

Cerise bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, withholding the guffaw. She might agree but she wasn't going to be the one to say so. It wasn't in her hazard pay.

“What did you just say?” Meg demanded. “Fuck it…OW…son of a bitch!”

“’Scuse me, but we’ve got a situation I need to deal with. Taste you soon,” he said. “Come on, call that a knife? I’ll show you a knife—”

He disconnected and, while genuinely hoping Meg wasn’t hurt too badly, Cerise couldn’t help chuckling a bit more. Only Chase would set up a booty call with his headset while apprehending his target.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^