The Bird Turns Into A Pumpkin

"Have you noticed everyone is acting insane lately?"

I sigh. "Philomena, you think everyone that isn't you is insane or tacky. You gotta be more specific."

"She's right, though, love. Your family is off their frigging nut as a collective," Leo calls from the kitchen.

"Not helping!" I yell back at him. "It smells great in here."

Tonight, it's just my immediate family in the house. Rafe and I have no planned obligations, so dinner is a closed event. We're going to play cards, eat outstanding food, and not be in the middle of all the drama. The heads of the other two families are at war with themselves and each other. The stragglers are all occupied. The bird hasn't called me since the other day, and not to jinx it, but I seem to be out of the line of fire.

It's a fucking gift, I swear.

Rafe meanders down the stairs, half-clad in jeans and paint. His long braid swings down the middle of his back as he looks around. "You were serious? We're free?"

I give him an understanding smile. "There are no strings on me, lazy. We're footloose."

"Shhh," Hex grumbles from the living room. He's busy creating a comfy space for us all to gather. "Stop tempting the sodding Fates, you nits."

He's not wrong. Those bitches have had it out for me lately.

I don't know if it's their time of year or if they're just bored. Normally, we get along pretty well because I'm the only one who acknowledges their weird ass menagerie of mates. I have enough ghosts haunting me right now. I don't need my pre-Rift shit biting me in the ass.

Yes, I meant those Fates. That's a story for another day entirely.

Victor pops his head out of the kitchen. "Red or white? Nuts and Bolts says that red will give you a hangover, but it's red food. He thinks he's a bloody Cordon bleu chef, so I'm asking you."

"Caesar would agree if he weren't out with the loony tune!" Leo yells.

I wince. He'll be a mess for weeks. Occasionally, James and Dona let Lucinda cross over to visit Caesar. It totally fucks him up, and I'd put a stop to it, but it's not my place. He and Vic refuse to see Dona that way, but Caesar hasn't let go of Lucinda. He never will if he doesn't cut this shit off, but he's an adult. He has to learn for himself.

Rafe snorts. "Oi! Red food equals red wine. She'll be fine. Cabernet or Chianti?"

I stomp my foot. "I can answer for myself."

Glaring at my primary, I growl into his mind about having enough people controlling me. He shrugs and looks sheepish. I know he gets it and I know they're all trying to help, but family time needs to be less stressful, not more.

My pocket buzzes and I jump. I'm not used to the stupid phone yet. In the other place, I had one attached to me like a parasite for every aspect of my life. Once I moved into the Rift, I gave up the techno ties that bind. Having Taurus' booty phone reminds me of that time, but it also means that I might be about to ruin everyone's evening.

Don't look at me like that. I've never been a beck and call girl—until him.

I look at the screen, wondering why I haven't randomly disappeared to another place. WTF, he's using this to actually text me. I'll be damned.

Birdbrain: At home, cutie?

Queen Kitty: Yeah. Just the fam—I mean, no extendeds. Food. Wine. Cards.

Birdbrain: If you are too busy…

Queen Kitty: When have I ever been too busy for you? Emo does NOT look good on peacocks.

Birdbrain: I won't even dignify that with a response. Still working. Miss me?

Queen Kitty: I thought you were done with re-con and yes, I did.

Birdbrain: Bloody idiots. Don't ask. How could you not?

Queen Kitty: Stop preening. You'll put out an eye with the feathers.

Birdbrain: Hilarious. I might not talk to you anymore.

Queen Kitty: Don't tempt me.

Birdbrain: I have important questions, so you're stuck with me. Plus, I'm bored, and Talia kicked me out of her head.

Queen Kitty: How much more romantic could you be?

"Love, what are you typing so furiously?" Victor arches his brow as he looks at me. "How many times have we told the bitch that texting at family functions is verboten?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You shut it, mister. No one else is paying attention, and I will happily let Leo know that you've been messing with his cabinets again."

His eyes widen and he grumbles. "I was looking for food! That git's system makes OCD look like a mild sniffle. Fine, text away. It's gotta be the feathered jackass. No one else bothers with those things."

I give him a dirty look as the phone buzzes in my hand while I'm arguing.

Birdbrain: Speaking of questions… I've been wondering something.

Queen Kitty: Since when do you not just ask?

Birdbrain: It might make you shy, and I don't want that. Also, I feel like a git asking.

Queen Kitty: Ooh. THAT sounds interesting.

Birdbrain: What are your fantasies? I mean, you know, what does it for you?

Queen Kitty: *blink* Like… what turns me on?

He doesn't answer for a few minutes and I feel like I hit the bottom of the tallest hill on a rollercoaster. I didn't expect this line of questioning, and definitely not in writing where someone could find out he asked. The whole situation is surreal. Plus, no one has ever asked me that so bluntly. I don't know how to answer this.

Why isn't he texting back?

"Deli, you are looking agitated." Siren comes over and gives me a once over. "Does it have to do with the phone that is distracting you?"

Siren is the newest member of our household. She was a gift from the boys, and she's modeled after a very predatory, old school template. She's more like Taurus and his ilk than any of the people in my household. It's not surprising that she's noticed my distraction. Much like what Taurus told me about his work for Talia, Siren has a thing for hunting down people who hurt women and children. Talia would like her, I think.

"Sort of. Is it noticeable?"

"Only if you are looking." She gives me a knowing look and saunters away, deciding not to draw attention to me. That's Siren to a tee. Her assessment of the situation showed I was fine, so she didn't press any further.

Birdbrain: Sweet Christ. I want to know how to please you the way you want to be pleased. I'd rather do it better than most—yes, that's my bloody pride, so sod off, woman. I want to get into your head and toast your cookies, but good. I don't have the first clue what you specifically want or need.

Queen Kitty: Baby, I don't think you

Victor hands me a glass of Chianti—dinner must be Italian—and gives me another dirty look. I sigh because I am not in the mood for him to be pissy about Taurus. I've got enough people clambering for a spot on the ‘pissed at Deli' train—he doesn't need to hop on board. I open my mouth to chastise him, but the phone buzzes three times in rapid succession. Shit.

Birdbrain: Don't think I bloody what?!

Birdbrain: What?!

Birdbrain: Answer me, woman!

Queen Kitty: I don't think you'll have trouble pleasing me. You'll probably do it better than most with no effort. As for getting in my head, I'm not sure what you mean. You're already under my skin, so in my head seems like the next logical step.

Birdbrain: I. Want. To. Make. You. Come. Like. You. Want. To. Come. Fulfill your fantasies. Take what's in that little head of yours and give it back to you in 3D. To do that, you need to talk to me. Or write. Whatever.

Birdbrain: For example, some chits get off on the handcuff gig. Some don't. Some like toys; some don't. Some just want the big bad to be squishy with them. Boggles my mind, but they do.

Birdbrain: Oh, hell. Forget I asked.

Queen Kitty: No, I'm thinking, and you are typing like a fiend. I can't keep up.

I can't imagine how embarrassed someone as puffed up as Taurus must be asking these questions. He has to feel like a ponce. I'm not trying to make it worse, but I'm not lying. No one has ever asked me these questions out loud—they assumed what they wanted to assume. I always play along because there's no shame in the game, right? If it doesn't bother me, I'm happy to play along.

Except with Wilde. That has gone past indulgence to abuse of power, and I don't know how to stop that bullet.

Queen Kitty: Okay, bear with me here. This might be a bumpy ride.

Birdbrain: *huff*

Queen Kitty: On the other side, I worked in a fetish store. The list of what I won't do is shorter than what I will do. I don't like things over my head—like masks—and I'm not a fan of feet. Anything gross is a no, obviously. As for anything else? Toys, chains, restraints, whips, whatever—I'm down.

Queen Kitty: …

Queen Kitty: I'm an ornery sub, though. That's your warning if you want to try being top. It won't be easy on you.

Queen Kitty: As for squishy, I don't mind it occasionally, but I'd prefer it be because the person feels that way towards me. I don't want them doing it to toot my horn. One thing that I don't want anymore is people giving me what they think I want based on some idiotic misconception about me.

Birdbrain: *blinks, taking all that in*

Birdbrain: Well, the other day was good except for my abrupt departure. I kicked myself all the way home for that, but I want something better. No, that's not right. I want something more personal.

Birdbrain: You'll have to define ‘ornery sub' for me.

My mouth drops open. I suspected he and Talia didn't get into the more kinky BDSM stuff that has been the ‘new thing' in the community. But since he mentioned handcuffs, I didn't think I was talking over his head. How the hell do I explain this without spilling the beans about his brother's—and the others'—proclivities?

Queen Kitty: So, for me, it's a suspension of belief issue. I have believe in the Dom/me to feel true submission. Weak people lose me because they can't really control me, and I know it. I lose the illusion and there's no point. After that, it's cosplay and I can think of better ways to chafe my ass than latex lingerie.

Birdbrain: *short circuiting*

Birdbrain: Okay, I have a question.

Queen Kitty: *sus*

Birdbrain: There are people in this world that ARE strong enough to control you and you'd still want them? Hard to swallow.

Queen Kitty: LMFAO. You'd be surprised, but no, it doesn't happen often.

He's quiet for a moment and I panic. Maybe I revealed too much. He has to be thinking about all the people I'm rumored to have been with and what exactly I did with them. I know I would if I were talking to someone like me. Shit, shit, shit. I have to fix this.

Queen Kitty: The other day was fucking fantastic. That feels like a stupid way to describe it, but text can only go so far. I didn't get upset when you left because I knew it was work.

Queen Kitty: Like I said, I have met one or two people who could make me believe, but not here. Not in The Rift. It was submission, yes, but not that medieval Gorean shit because I'm no one's fucking slave.

Queen Kitty: I feel you'd rather I fight back, though.

Birdbrain: Are we being honest here? I"ll answer that if you want honesty.

Queen Kitty: Do I seem like I"m being dishonest? I don't tell many people all of this shit out loud; you know.

Birdbrain: No, pet, I don't think you're putting me on. You"re not telling me what I asked, though. I wanted to know if you wanted me to be as honest as you are. Not everyone wants genuine honesty—in case you haven't noticed.

Queen Kitty: That's for damned sure. I want you to be real with me.

"Night Bloom?"

I drag my eyes away from the screen, hearing Rafe speak. His words didn't actually register because this conversation just got very interesting, so I mutter, "Um, yeah?"

"Food's ready. Are you coming or…?"

I sigh. I can't stop this conversation or I might lose this topic altogether. "No. I'll take mine upstairs. I need to lie down for a while because I'm feeling drained by all the magick. With everything going on, I haven't gone to my circle to recharge as often as I should be."

He frowns, not buying my story. "If that's what you want, Leo will bring a plate up. Do you need me?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm okay. Hang down here and have some fun; you deserve it. We don't know what'll come tomorrow, you know?"

Kissing my forehead, he murmurs, "Please be careful with him, my love. Something all to yourself is good, but getting in too deep, too quickly hasn't worked out for us."

"Thank you," I whisper, giving him a tiny smile as I scamper up the stairs to a more private venue.

Birdbrain: Let's back up, woman. You told me what you don't mind. You told me what you've had before. You told me what doesn't work well. None of that is what you want. You're being honest, but not… Hell, I'm usually better at talking than this. Sorry.

It occurs to me he has to be making the most petulant, frustrated peacock face in the universe. This can't be easy for him, especially long distance where he can't read my expressions for clues. He probably feels like a complete idiot. I flop down on the bed, trying to nail down why this is so hard for me. Is it because outside my family, no one really cares what I want anymore?

Fuck, that's dismal.

Queen Kitty: I know what you are saying…

Birdbrain: *impatient*

Queen Kitty: Frankly, what I want right now is… you. I want to experience every part of you and discover something new each time. I want to taste you and touch you everywhere and have you done the same to me. Once I get to know every inch, then I might think about scenarios or role play or whatever.

The phone screen flashes at me, taunting me with every second that he doesn't respond. I groan inwardly—I said too much. He's going to figure out I may have become far too invested in this for it to be a fling and that all my crazy life will spill onto him if he stays. He might run like he did when Rhea asked too much of him.

I can't stand the silence, goddamnit.

Queen Kitty: When someone's new to me, I want to get to know them and the things that make them crazy rather than need a lot of tricks to keep things exciting. Is that more like what you wanted to hear? Honesty wise, I mean.

Birdbrain: Uh... actually... it"s not what I expected at all. But I like it.

Queen Kitty: Oh. Well. Um. Cool.

Real smooth, Deli. You're acting like a virgin at the fucking prom. I bang my head on the mattress of my bed, groaning at my idiocy. I'll never live this shit down.

Birdbrain: Oh, sure. NOW you get demure.

Queen Kitty: It's not like I sexted you. I wasn't graphic.

Birdbrain: Gorgeous, can you do me a favor?

Queen Kitty: What?

Birdbrain: If you're going to squirm like that, can it wait until you're on my lap?

Queen Kitty: Pig!

Birdbrain: Seriously, though, what"s with the fidgety silences and squiggles when I'm there? Where do you stand on graphic in a non-stompy Sandwich moment?

Queen Kitty: I felt—and don"t laugh, you jackass—naked for a moment. I"m more of an action person than I get to know a person. Where do I stand in graphicness? Did you READ the bullshit I spilled to you up there? I obviously have a broken fucking filter.

Birdbrain: I"ve seen you naked and I don"t recall it being a laughing matter. A ‘thank Satan' moment, yeah, but not a guffaw in sight. And, since I"ve completely removed my balls during this bloody conversation, I hope I get points for sensitivity to your feminine self.

Queen Kitty: I'm sure your balls are exactly where you left them. They might be a little smaller and possibly blueish, but I doubt they've trotted off on their own. You get points for being sensitive. In fact, you get points for a lot of stuff. If I told you all of it, it wouldn"t be any fun torturing you, now would it?

Birdbrain: Bloody hell. You always have to stick a fork in me, don't you, gorgeous? It"s a sodding good thing you"re adorable.

Queen Kitty: I am NOT adorable.

Birdbrain: Pet, you are, but you"re also hot as hell and whenever I"m around you, I"m hard and ready for you in a heartbeat. All things considered, you can handle adorable, right?

Queen Kitty: Yeah... considering. I think I can deal.

Birdbrain: Oh, hell. I can just imagine.