Ugh. I am SO done with interviews. But hey, at least the PR firms bribed the various talk show hosts and reporters to go easy on me. So I got a lot of softball questions and agreement. Which is nice. But ugh: The same five or ten questions, phrased a little differently by a dozen different people, gets wearying. And all the different outfits… a new, designed-by-me outfit for each interview. Why’d I do that? OK, yes, it was so it wouldn't be obvious later that they were all on the same day. Maybe next time I'll disguise my shadow and have him do it. Still, blech.

But hey: I have a date.

I'm waiting on Jessica's porch for her to get home, dressed reasonably conservatively.  I have been all day, really. Seems people don't relate well to folks who are drenched in jewelry. At the moment, it's a simple strapless black silk number with a low neckline and a window for my second cleavage - because it's a date (I was wearing mostly higher necklines earlier). I am not even carrying a purse: I am keeping everything I'd carry in one in the Extradimensional Storage I get from the Warp sphere (I planted a Vicarious View spell on my phone so I'll know when it rings).  Simple mundane objects I can simply create on demand, things like ID, cash, bank cards, and the like I can pull out as a swift action (yes, I can create convincing forgeries trivially, but doing so is bad).  Enchanted gear also goes in the Extradimensional Storage, unless it's something I'd wear for a constant effect … in which case, it's on my shadow: That Shadow Stash talent is extra handy the second time. Well, unless they're creatures, like my familiar Minnie or the paintings I carry as rings.  Hmm…maybe I should turn some of them into necklaces or bracelets? I mean, I'm wearing four rings: My Mythic ring, Minnie my familiar, a Trompe l'Oeil of a Solar, and another Trompe l'Oeil of a Great Wyrm Gold Dragon. And the Gold Dragon can learn Cleric spells, so the Solar is mostly redundant, other than the spell-likes… hmmm….

As I replan my jewelry, Jessica pulls up the drive. She's wearing her woman's business suit, her hair is a little frazzled, and her makeup needs touching up. Looks like she hasn't had the greatest day either. Still… she's beautiful.

I have it pretty bad for her, don't I? Or is it pretty good? Feels nice, either way.

As Jessica climbs out of the car, I hand her a rose… no, I wasn't holding it a moment prior… and she takes a moment to hold it to her nose, close her eyes, and take a deep breath, relaxing into a smile as she does.  She opens her eyes again and looks me over as she sighs contentedly:

"Do I have time to shower and change?"

I chuckle, "Take all the time you need. Being late is a complete non-issue, although…" I mentally check the time, "If you spend more than about an hour getting ready your phone may glitch a bit."

She raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn't ask, instead heading inside to change. I go ahead and redo my jewelry, turning the fake gold dragon into a dragon-themed golden armband, and the fake solar into an angel-wing necklace, which leaves me with a much more reasonable one ring per hand (neither on the ring finger, of course).  When she comes out an hour and forty-five minutes later, she’s wearing a red backless dress with a short skirt and a cloth strap around the back of her neck holding it up, has her hair and makeup done, and has her wings out.  

“So what show are we seeing?”

“Oh, just a little musical inspired by the Wizard of Oz, imagined backstory for a couple of the characters, really.  Ready to go?”

“Certainly, my man.”

Hmm… my man… sounds nice when she says it.

I take her by the hand, and open a portal in the air to our destination, taking us to the theater in question, and closing it behind us.  Of course, we arrive a few minutes early, I only had to bend things by about forty-five minutes.  I watch as Jessica pulls her phone out of her purse and checks it, raising an eyebrow.

“OK, so I figured you might take us across time zones, but what time zone is two hours and fifteen minutes ahead?”

“Oh, we’re in New York right now…”

“That’s a three hour difference.”

“It is! As I said, your phone might glitch a bit,” I smile at her.

She seems thoughtful as we go in to watch the show.  We get a giant tub of popcorn as we go in and are escorted to our seats.  We have a balcony all to ourselves, so while Jessica gets some stares for her wings as we go inside, all eyes are on the stage as the performers sing, dance, and tell us how Glenda the Good and the Wicked Witch of the West came to be who they were for the movie.

During the intermission, I ask her, “Oh, by the way… did that professor friend of yours ever find anything out about the pebble?”

She shakes her head, “Nothing of note.  Oh, she measured the energy output no problem, but she’s yet to identify the energy supply for the light.  She’s confident there is one, somewhere, she just can’t find it.”

I nod.  Didn’t really think she would… there’s a reason it’s called “magic.”  Still… it behaves predictably, so it’s a form of technology, we just need to find the principles behind it in a way that make sense. Until then, observational laws only. Or, you know, I can just look them up. But that doesn't list underlying principles.

At the end of the show, we both clap, and Jessica wraps her arm around my waist and whispers into my ear “Let’s skip the line out, hmm?” Her feathered wings tickle slightly.

Little reason not to, so… “Certainly, beautiful.” I open another portal right from the balcony, and we step through, her arm still wrapped around me.  It feels nice.

We land outside the chosen restaurant, all eyes on Jessica and her wings, and the dark-skinned lady at the entry stops us, as there is quite the line: "Do you have reservations?"

"Yes, Chris Carlson."

She checks her notes, and nods, "This way, Ms Carlson, you're exactly on time."

I sigh, "It's Mr Carlson."

She considers Jessica's wings, and gives a simple "Certainly sir," leading us to our table. They have live music tonight; a jazz band is playing in the corner, the music is quite relaxing.

Jessica asks an idle question as she looks at the menu, "How did you know exactly how long the show would take? Live action shows alway have some variation, and I was the one who suggested skipping the line out."

"Oh, that's easy: I didn't."

"Then how…" she trails off as she sees me on one of the screens, on a live news show. They're muted for the live music, but they do have captions running. "OK, spill. HOW?!"

"I have been leveling up, and time travel is now an option. So… I can be in more than one place at a time simply by coming back after I'm done with the first event and visiting the second. It breaks some assumptions in the cellular network to see you twice, so calls, texts, and cellular data get a little funky, but otherwise it's fine."

"So you've got an interview later?"

"No, I got those out of the way first, that one is… number seven, I think?... of a dozen. They kind of blur together. I've had a REALLY long day.  I figured I'd want to relax with you after."

"What’s the limit?"

"I don't know. I haven't found one yet. And that's just the threads I'll remember."

"There’s ones you won't?"

"Yes… I also have the option of grabbing a copy from an alternate future timeline, and when I do that they're not connected to me: Nothing that happens to them will affect the real me, which makes them disposable… but by the same token, I don't remember what happens to them. They're not as durable, though, and their connection to here and now breaks if they take the least little scratch."

"So you don't have an army, you are one."

"When I want to be, yes, it's how I cleared out Tehran. Oh, speaking of…" I pull my diplomatic card out of warp storage, and hand it to Jessica.

She takes a moment to look it over, "OK, so I don’t need to worry about arresting you for anything short of murder. Good," and hands it back. "So how do you justify wiping out an entire city, anyway?"

… ugh. I've been over this to death, but at least I don't have to 'dance' when talking to Jessica, "I did not kill a single civilian. The soldiers that attacked? Yes, almost all of them went to meet their maker, a relative handful are in a PoW camp in my country, but all the civilians were alive and healthy when I dropped them off elsewhere in Iran. Areas that have other civilians, mind: I didn't just abandon them in the wilderness; they'll be treated as their own country and culture dictates, at the hands of their own people. Yes, they're now as poor as it gets if they don't have bank accounts elsewhere they can get to, but civilians always get caught in the crossfire when nations go to war. It's not like I could let an attack on my nation stand: Everyone would try and take a piece. They attacked my capital, so I attacked theirs, it's not even escalation. I'm just better at it."

"They're saying you killed all the men, and only let women go…"

"They're twisting facts. I didn't kill the men. I turned them all into women before letting them go. According to their culture, they've been demoted," I pause, "Including their Supreme Leader, which I understand is a lifetime appointment, but is a position that can't be held by a woman. I've no idea how that will shake out."

"You turned… those … into…" Jessica can't seem to get the sentence out, as she's laughing.

"Yes. It seemed fitting as a punitive step. And I figured it would help their society move into the current age… seems they're collapsing instead, though. Oh well."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer bunch… ooh, lets find out what that tastes like…"

We flag the waitress over, and order. Turns out we're both curious what alligator tastes like.